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you are a god.

you weave fate into constellations, threading tapestries of destinies. you breathe life into dying kingdoms, and let thriving ones burn. it has been this way for eons, unchanging, as most gods are. it does not matter what wars are waged, or which immortal dies, for the gods never change. perhaps that is why you take such pleasure in granting human wishes.

your crown is made of stars, each one a dream undreamed. when they fall, hundreds of wishes are granted, and yet only some would be worth anything. for the humans wish, and then they revolt against tyrants, against lords, against entities more than they could ever know. you watch on from above, amused.

change has always been a god’s undoing.