The Eladrin sat on the sandy rooftop and moved a volcanic rock, the better to pin his 3rd chart down. This one had been drawn on a transparent vellum made from the egg sack of some chittering creature out in the deserts, he didn’t ask how, the fallen ones had their filthy ways, but their wares were useful, this one could be laid over his master Horoscope and the variations in the stars compared.
There was his star, not in ascendance, or building toward spectacular supanovic-self-destructive, like those of the younger races. Instead, fixed, a graceful orbit, never deviating or changing much in 3 centuries. Most of the other bodies that moved through the firmament in a similar fashion had winked out of existence many centuries earlier, and those that still persisted did not trouble their neighbouring constellations over-much. Thus now and again he would check his own course.
A few weeks ago his star had shifted ever so slightly into the orbits of the Sign of the Golden Ram, bringing he and it into complicated interactions with the Scyth of Luan and the Thri-kreen’s Belt. It had lead him to other secret mysteries hidden on his pages of paper and vellum, other wonderous eye opening calculations predicting dangerous and curious possible futures, paths that he now found himself mixed up with. So he almost looked forward to his nightly check on the stars, and the charts, for a fleeting glimpse at what the future may hold.
Now though. Now, this was beyond curious…. Where was his star tonight? Search as he might amongst the maps, or indeed in the celestial dance above him, he could find no sign of it. He willed a spy-glass into being and peered into the closer distance wondering if it was simply obfuscated by the sandstorm blowing up on the horizon, but no.
His star was simply gone. Here was the six armed lady, here was the devil with a secret, he could see their orbits, their paths, he could assume his fate would be caught up with theirs… and yet, his star was gone.
He was literally off the charts.
With the raise of an eyebrow (that caused the tip a foot away to crack upward whip-like and swat away a small fly) the long fair figure breathed;