Fortune. Some people have it, some people seek it, some claim to predict it, and some say that it favours the brave. Write a ficlette inspired by the word ‘fortune.’
O Fortune,
like the moon, you are changeable,
ever waxing and waning;
hateful life. first oppresses
and then soothes, as fancy takes it;
poverty and power
it melts them like ice.
Fate – monstrous and empty,
you whirling wheel, you are malevolent,
well-being is vain and always fades to nothing,
shadowed and veiled, you plague me too;
now through the game I bring my bare back
to your villainy.
e are all slaves to fortune of one kind or another, whether we will or no. Some view it as fame, that magickal elixir that will insure immortality of a kind. From the great Greek warrior, Achilles, to the meanest scullery maid hoping to catch the notice, if not fleeting, of her Lord, fortune takes many forms. Fortuna, that fickle Goddess is ever changeable. Her insignia, the wheel, is like the spinning wheel of the Fates, and very much like the wheel of mediaeval torture. Sometimes it is torture to endure the turns that the wheel makes within our life. It is at the centre of the Wheel and in our life that balance is found. The Wheel of Fortune also can become like the wheel of a ship, whereby we make it to serve us – rather than being dictated by it and blown about by the winds of Fate.
All who knew Morgienne knew her to be intelligent as well as ruthless. It is perhaps to her that I owe my present position, for so often there is no glory for a woman unless she were to be far more ruthless than any man could ever be. It was I who took the Wheel of Fortune within my grasp and wrenched it free from the hands of the Fates and from Morgienne.
I face the same now as she did then. I know that Fortuna shall cast her gaze from me and affix it upon another. And for their time, they shall rise up and I shall be seemingly plunged down, cast from power, rent asunder. Unlike Morgienne, however, I will remain and rise up again. This I know. You see, I have one thing on my side. That one thing is the gift of incredible age, for even as my enemies who will rise to power, they too will fall and I will still yet live. Though the profane shall pass away, the spirit is constant. It is imperishable. The answer to the riddle of the Sphinx, also found within the symbology of the Tarot, is Time. Time is what I have plenty of. And so goes the cycle of life.
So spins the wheel of Fortuna.
Muse: Fanny Fae
Fandom: Original Character / Folklore / Mythology
Word Count: 369 (Not including the portion of translated lyrics of “O’ Fortuna” from “Carmina Burana” by Carl Orff )
Crossposted to
Life Belongs to Sekhmet 