Court

“Master?” Destiny asked, aghast at what she was seeing, “Mother?!”

“My wife,” her Father spoke, His voice filling the void between every atom within earshot, “you have returned to me.”

Destiny’s mother did not look up, but instead lay atop the naked mortal, hiding her face in his bosom so as to not lock eyes with him, allowing his erection to press into her divine body.

"Husband," Wisdom said into the human's chest, "I have returned, but my path has brought me to another. He is precious beyond measure, and must be protected at all costs."

Destiny watched as her Father took a stop toward the pair on the ground. To the human eyes He would appear a diminutive older man, but to Destiny's eyes, He was a mountain of power. As He peered at the mortal beneath His wife, Destiny could feel her Father's eyes peeling back His creation, examining what had occurred, what had been made. Her ears thrummed at the power, a tiny fraction of what He could do if roused.

Then His eyes were turned to Destiny's mother. The proud Wisdom, face buried in the mortal's chest, seemed smaller, meeker. Meek would never have been a word that Destiny would have given to her mother, but nonetheless it was an apt description.

"My wife," her Father spoke again, this time a curious tone to his voice, a hint of a chuckle, "What has befallen you?"

He held out His hand, then spread His fingers. As he did, screams filled the air. Justice, Lust, and Desire all flew from their mother's body and were thrown across the room in three different directions. When they came to a rest, the noises of alarm did as well. Finally Wisdom, mother of the immortals, slowly climbed to her feet. Her face was flushed, her breath came in laboured pants.

"Husband," her voice was cold, removed. She straightened her dress, her hair, then locked her eyes on Destiny's Father.

“When I came looking for guidance,” Justice’s voice cut the tension as the old woman climbed to her feet, “that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

Destiny watched as her parents stared each other down, Justice shuffled toward her, and the twins, Lust and Desire, scrambled to their mortal and knelt down, checking on his well-being. This Tim Thompson hadn’t just upset the futures of his species, but of her family as well.

“Father,” Destiny said, “this mortal brings upheaval and disorder. Your creation has been perverted by his misdeeds. You must intervene.”

“Must I?” His impossibly deep voice inquired, “I was not informed that my actions are now dictated by my daughters. Do you forget your place?”

“See,” Destiny pressed on, widening her arms, using her power to project a throbbing ball of orange light above her, the accumulated impact of Tim Thompson’s changes to fate, “the potential for chaos builds to levels that must not be released. If creation is impacted much more, mitigation will be beyond my abilities.”

“None of this would have happened if you bitches had just left him alone,” Justice spat, “So now you come crying to daddy because you can’t take your medicine.”

“How dare you, you insolent…”

“Wife,” Destiny’s father said, examining the ball of light, “now that you have returned, perhaps you can share your gift with me. This chaos,” he indicated with his left hand, “what would you have me do?”

There was a moment of silence as the Mother of Immortality stepped next to her husband for the first time in millennia. Her black eyes squinted as she examined her daughter’s projection.

“It is dangerous, and unknown,” she said, “and yet…”

“Yes?”

“My time in communion with Desire and Lust has left me changed,” she said, her eyes turning back to the mortal, “I find myself unable to recommend anything that doesn’t benefit this human, despite any threat he would pose to creation.”

“He wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Justice said, “he’s a good boy! Now, if you’ll just let us…”

“No,” their Father said, “I will not have my creation destroyed. Your games and machinations were a fine distraction, but you have gone too far, Justice. If you wish for your mortal to leave my presence, you will offer a trade, and dissipate this danger.”

“Thank-you, Father,” Destiny said, “Soon we will have..”

“Do not think that your role as instigator is forgotten, daughter,” he cut her off, his bushy eyebrows lifting high, “your appetites have led us to this disaster. Should you not learn to control yourself, there may be further intervention.”

“My apologies, Father,” she stepped back, “I meant no disrespect.”

“Justice,” he rumbled, “I expect you wish to proceed.”

“Well, you heard the man, kiddo,” Destiny’s sister croaked, “let’s get to it.”