Kicking the Peace Habit for Chaos

Because her town abounded with aristocratic activities, the warrior clan matriarch was usually overbooked. This evening was no different. She selected her green-eyed scholar’s scroll talk; she hoped he would join her at the Chaos party later.

Rumors about Chaos God followers flourished. The followers and their ways were flamboyant, extravagant, and exotic. Her sun circles taught her she needed more than War God exercises and Peace temple scroll talks.

She settled in. Her scholar discussed a Goddess of Peace scroll about femininity issues. Followers of both deities had similar stands, but Peace followers tended to increase women’s restrictions.

He’d spoken well. The crowd dissipated before the Chaos party began. She begged him with her blue eyes, “Joining me at the Chaos party?”

“No, why would I? They don’t follow the right rules.”

“Yes, but what would the Goddess of Peace do? How can you share what you believe if you don’t first know what they believe?”

His jaw dropped; his green eyes became slits. She knew that look–she’d be alone at the Chaos party. Sighing indignantly, she turned on her heels and left without argument.

She arrived at the Chaos party. Most attendees followed the Goddess of No-Named-God. How exactly can a female deity rule over a male deity with no name? Her followers never gathered for worship. They simply ridiculed and ostracized people that worshipped real deities.

At the center were a female and male Chaos God devotee. The female was unremarkable, but the male… he was chiseled and fit with twinkling brown eyes full of life. She was jealous that the War God didn’t make his followers with that shape.

The woman was shuffling papers covered with pictures. Something about pulling 13 papers and laying them out in a certain pattern gave her the advice she needed for the person asking questions about their life course.

The man was throwing bones on the floor; each bone had a different mark. Somehow, which ones showed the mark and which ones didn’t was again supposed to tell future plans. She couldn’t clearly understand what he called the bones, but the name did rhyme with “ruin.”

She thought they’d both come to ruin relying on chance to make decisions. She wanted to bolt and tell her scholar he was right, but those making the presentation had a quixotic magnetism. Well, at least the male…

As the presentation continued, the warrior clan matriarch decided to avoid her scholar’s after-party because she enjoyed novel ideas. And, honestly, she was laughing inside at the foolishness of making decisions with bones and paper. However, intellectually, more exploration was required to discern if it truly was foolishness.


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