Mythlands: THE HEIST

The Destiny Trap

At approximately the same time that The Glass Cat's contingent had made their way roughly a quarter of the forty miles they needed to transverse to reach the nearest railway hub, the black cat with the white markings, also known as SC, was already comfortably ensconced in a private compartment of a much earlier train that was steaming towards the Narnian capital of Cair Paravel.

He was deep in thought.

Sadness and a sense of melancholia lay heavily upon SC. How could it not ... given his abilities. He knew the outcome, you see and he could empathize with all the major players. There was however, a glimmer of hope and this hope compelled his actions.

SC was, by dint of his very existence, a most philosophical cat and once again, as was his wont in the quieter moments, he lay on the seat, thinking, analysing and contemplating the qualities of existence.

Paths taken and paths as yet untaken. There were choices, but destiny wanted to happen, in one form or another. This force, of which he was so intimately aware, was not sentient and yet it was almost a living, breathing thing. Destiny allowed a certain flexibility within the confines of it's vastness but it was inexorable, unstoppable, cruel, kind and omnipresent. Yes, the details could change and the outcome as well, but certain events would always take place in the broader scale of things.

Destiny was a trap. An individual might escape that trap once it had been sprung, but they could no sooner avoid the closing jaws, than the sun could avoid rising and setting.

SC thought about the seers. Doomed to see the almost certainty of terrible things ahead. Knowing they might have the tiniest of chances to use their foreknowledge to avert cataclysm but also suffering under the burden of knowing that even if they could prevent the horrific whole, many small tragedies would still occur - some facilitated by their very actions.

Destiny was cruel. It had given terrible purpose to the Magic Mirror. That being, aided and abetted by Dorian Grey was now defined by the visions he saw and the desperate need to prevent them. What might the mirror have otherwise been? A question in no need of answering for it was forever fated to be merely an instrument of knowledge and now foreknowledge. So had it ever been and so it shall remain - for that was the way it had been written.

SC shuddered, his sad eyes moist as he contemplated his own story. He had been burdened with even greater knowledge of how the universe works and yet there were still things hidden from his sight. The why of The Mythlands ... who had written the stories and who had decreed the paths of Destiny?

He knew more than most about the workings, but that burning question, he had no answer for. You see, it was something that was hidden in the time gone by and he could only see ahead.

The black cat thought of George. Once upon a time, before he had lost the last vestiges of his naivety, he had planned to discover the hidden truths with the help of this man who had become his friend and ally. But eventually he had looked ahead and come to realize that this would never come to pass. George still had a role to play though ... just not with him.

Then there was Chicken-Licken. The Destiny Trap had almost driven poor Chicken mad, but it wasn't fated to be so. The fluffy yellow chick, once mocked and thought a laughing stock, had regained respect and prestige. This had to be so ... because he needed to become a Professor and a teacher, so that one day a red headed girl would walk into his class and almost two decades later, that same girl would encounter a certain Hare and their paths would lead them back to Chicken and he would play his part.

The Hare and his friend The Tortoise. Both had fallen into the Destiny Trap. Did everything link back to the paths ahead? The race where they met and their subsequent dysfunctional relationship? Would both Tortoise and Hare have been happier, more fulfilled people if not for their destiny? Destiny had decreed that The Hare be the man he was and the man he was becoming. Destiny had placed The Tortoise in a leadership role and brought him into contact with the Godheads. The Vault and its secrets and the way they were revealed - could The Tortoise and others be blamed or was it merely their destiny?

Who else? Loki, who fumed and seethed beneath the shadow of Odin, he who made plans and schemed schemes. The Glass Cat, mischief maker, rebel, exile, hero and villain. They and every other 'character' were where they were supposed to be.

The Destiny Trap had closed upon the Mythlands. The paths were set.

But Destiny was not entirely unkind. A chance still existed.