“The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.”
― Marcus Aurelius
"You're sooo annoying, you big fat turtle!" Kalina said, head rested on her cupped hands, held upright with her elbows.
She leaned on a thick, wooden bar, perched on a stool that seemed about to break. An untouched mug steamed before her, the mist that topped its rim a halo around her head.
"What makes these two so special anyways?" Kalina asked, her gaze fixed on her cup. "That little fish is strange, but the girl is nobody."
A large, leathered face loomed into her line of sight, its blind eyes more than empty even as it smiled.
"We were both nobodies, Goddess," The oversized reptile spoke with a deep voice, but his tone was soft. "That girl's fate was destined to be tragic, but the other one is hidden."
Two massive hands settled on the wood before her, thick, elephantine clubs that somehow held a mug with delicate grace.
"If he can blind the eyes of fate, then her path becomes what we've always dreamed of."
"Maybe, but at what cost?" Kalina looked down, lost in the haze of her drink. "We've both created so much in this world, this risks everything we've built."
"It casts aside all for a single chance," the turtle said, a flash visible within his empty gaze. "A single chance to set right an injustice that is held over every living being."
He sipped from his cup, his calm smile a barb in her already troubled mind.
"What if I don't care, Ooulin?" She spat into her untouched drink. "What if I want to keep safe what's mine and leave the rest to fate?"
"Pfff," Ooulin snorted, "Fate has plans for us both Mother, and neither of us ever agreed with them."
"Maybe so, little Turtle," Kalina returned his smile and placed a hand on her drink. "His hands have stopped us at every turn."
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Her aura of depression, pushed back by the turtle's poor humor, had lightened.
"What makes you think we can change our destiny now?" She paused, her lips placed above the rim of her glass. "What's so special about the little fish?"
"His future, his past, none of them exist in the threads of fate," Ooulin said as Kalina tipped her neck back and downed her drink. "What can't be seen can change the outcome, and I've never encountered anything that stands outside of fate as he does."
Kalina frowned, even as the taste of her drink filled her senses with fresh ocean air. Fate... She had long believed herself the master of her path, but she'd learned the truth. She was just as trapped as any mortal in this world, bound to the limits and outcomes chosen by powers far beyond her.
"Am I a terrible mother?" Kalina asked, "I would walk hand in hand with my children into the face of death, all so I can take back what's mine." The old turtle frowned for the first time in her memory.
"We walk with you gladly Mother," His large hand reached out and rested lightly on her shoulder. "To take back what's been stolen from us all."
"What do you lot know," Kalina huffed as she rolled his hand away. "You're a bunch of stupid fish, you don't have five brain cells between you!"
Tears dropped down her cheeks, trapped by the cup in her hands.
"We both know that you can't stand by and let justice remain blind." Ooulin's grin returned, and the light hidden in his eyes grew brighter. "You taught me everything I know, and all that I have learned tells me this choice is the right one."
He gazed into Kalina's tear-stained face and pulled a smile from beneath the rain.
"Yah, yah, you smelly turtle." As fast as they'd come, the tears dried, and Kalina's gaze now held fire. "Face the world and leave it better." She reached out and flicked him softly on the forehead. "Trust you to take my throw-away words and found a religion around it."
Resolved, she wrapped her sadness behind a wall, a barrier made strong with years of use.
"You really were the best of them," Kalina placed her arms behind her head, eyes closed. "Such a brave little turtle, playing 'Knights and Bandits' with the world."
"And I'll never stop."
It had been a long, long time since she'd first heard him say those words, his parting line as he'd set off into the world of men to make it a better place.
"No, I don't suppose you will," Kalina stood, her opened eyes filled with a tinge of red. "And neither will I," She turned and pushed open a weather-beaten door. "It's not in my nature."
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The galaxy-eyed man, a murderous rage in his gaze, raised his fist into the air.
He stood within the empty laboratory that had birthed Ven. The shattered glass and rusted filth around him vibrated ominously as his fist pressed toward the ground. A slow-motion representation of perfect form, the man's softball-sized knuckles impacted the corroded metal floor.
The blow formed a windstorm of epic proportions that stripped the black layer of filth away, scrapped free by the air itself. The grinder swept the space clean and continued beyond to shake the pillar itself. Great swathes of ice tumbled free, an impact beyond any artillery barrage that slammed into the plains below.
Revealed to the light, a shining, silver monument stood tall against the sky. A tower, so covered in runic letters that the original color was lost in their light. A rhythmic pulse ran down its length from an unknown peak. It raced down, a golden glow, driven beneath the earth.
The air cleared and, a hulking figure exploded free of the fallen ice. His face a mask of furry, teeth barred in a snarl reserved for nightmares, the star-eyed man dragged his gaze across the horizon. He took a deep breath, the scent of his target almost unnoticeable, but still there, hidden in the wind.
"No child of the titan shall walk the earth." The man intoned to the empty air, his eyes fixed on a point beyond the horizon. "Not even that Witch can save you from the commandment of God."
The man stepped forward, an explosion of cold air all that remained as he streaked into the distance. The stars in his eyes spun around his black pupils, and each pulsed with a dim, black light.