The Eye of Winter's Fury
“Threads of silver unravelling at breakneck speed. Each tear, each split drew more blinding pain. The spinner covered her face, fingernails raking back and forth. Make it stop! Gabriel, I beg you. Make it stop! The symphony of the plan, the great work, had come undone. Its sharp crashing notes cut like murderous knives, growing louder and more insistent as the silver tracery writhed in chaos. Lives. Millions of fates were suddenly cast adrift without purpose or end.
The spinner could not weave the web. She could only give it life. Gabriel had been the weaver. The one who knew the purpose of the plan, as it had always been since the beginning of creation. He had decided the fate of every being. Every destiny had been known. But Aisa had ended all that. For she was the changer. She was death.
The music stopped. Silence.
An absence more deafening than the previous cacophony.
Then the threads began to move again, tangling together in knotted patterns, forming a bright maze across the starlit ether.
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