𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐓𝐘 ━ 𝚠𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚙.

Intermission - He Who Sees Beyond The Veil

there are stars in your eyes, a galaxy unexplored

a world of burning supernova, unseen by those who look

༻𖥸༺

THERE ARE STARS IN YOUR EYES, a myriad of lights of beauty unrivalled, whispering words of unknown meanings, of gods and blood of liquid gold, of curses and magic dark as the pits of Tartarus.

You, beloved child of Apollo, have the burning soul of Ares, forged by war and discord and the eternal flames of Hephaestus.

You, whose visage is nurtured by the wicked Aphrodite, whose soul as kind as the budding Persephone holds a silver of Thanatos' essence.

With eyes akin to gems procured from the depths of Hades' domain, you are an anomaly in this reality you were reborn.

The Council has gathered.

Things are bad when they do, the fae mutter, wings of glittering stardust but a mere illusion of cruelty to those unknowing.

Beyond the doors (gates) lay the Hall of Requirem, where your (Im-) mortal soul has no privy to the meetings of those from the Other.

Destiny is worried, wearily eyeing Fate as she plots.

Life and Death are silent, faintly amused by the proceedings that surround them.

Chaos buzzes in anticipation, Peace seems resigned as Balance does nothing but stare at its two children.

The red strings are tightening around your existence; what are you, if not a puppet to their whims?

Those from Beyond the Veil have spoken, their decision made, but the fea are not in the knowing. (They never are.)

The Seer of the Stars is smiling, long willowy fingers dark, as if dipped in the barriers of the world. She Sees things, yet she is blind to the world of the mundanes.

Do you sense it? She asks, curious, ever-smiling and eyes unseen from underneath her obsidian hood. There is a storm brewing at the edges of your Sight. The birds have scattered, the sun is chained and the all encompassing sky is cloudy. The lightning is restless and the rain is heavy, desperate to wash away the discord. She tilts her head, contemplating. The mist is obscuring the Future, an illusion stands in its place. The Past is muddled, what do you make of this, ye child of the Stars?

Silence is all that she receives, and yet she smiles, her miem never-changing, sculpted with an eternal kindness, yet void of any emotion.

There is fire following at your feet, a shadow of who you were a mere two steps behind一 chained, always seeming to know more than you do.

(She speaks in riddles, many say. It may be so, the Stars laugh, for those who do not See.)

You, whose soul is detached, can you hear them? The (war) drums echo in the horizon, foreboding.

Chaos is gleeful一 why wouldn't they be, when their cold embrace waits for you. Unleash us child, they goad, voice soft, promising of (fake) safety. What do you wish for?

Yes, the Seer echoes, strangely distant, form lost as if watching something beyond their world, what do you wish for, child of prophecy?

You, a blank slate, an existence unplanned for, whose Destiny in Life is unknown, what do you wish for?

The stars in your eyes are telling, signs of greatness, yet hidden behind the Veil. Who is there to see but not look?

...

Somewhere in the world, under the dawning sky, a child with hair a pale mirror of the sun awakens and laughs.