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"Am I not also beautiful, Father? You once saw me as so."
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The triangular tile glowed and pulsed, emanating through the dark chamber an icy, white light.
Brought to this world from far-off, cosmic lands, it was all that remained of the cruel deities they had long since done away with. And in the gods’ absence, the glowing mineral triangle found a new purpose in the hands that had once been enslaved. Now, a figure knelt at each tip, holding long black, glass crystals before them. They each wore white, hooded garments and covered their faces with sheer, silken fabric. All at once the figures cast their glasses, letting them shatter on the ground. As they did so, each whispered their ancient prayer, filling the chamber with guttural hisses and sighs. In unison, they then became silent, bowing their heads in meditation. One of the figures raised his arms, fingers outstretched over the array of broken glass. “Our ritual is complete,” he moaned in a course alien tongue, “Observer. You may now discern the shattered omens.” Another figure rose to revealed his face, widening his black eyes. Pacing the triangle from one tip to the other, he inspected the casting, silently chanting; searching for insight. He would stop and point to certain shards and sneer, sometimes chuckle. He would sigh and mutter, cradle his head in his hand. And then finally, “Here. Something unique.” His voice was airy and deep. It was almost impossible to see; a few glass particles, hovering above the triangle like insects. The Observer caught them on the tip of his finger and brought them to his mouth to taste. Closing his eyes, he focused on flavor of the particle, which was already starting to fade. When the favor melted away, he swallowed and continued to divine the casting. He was eager to finish. “What do you see, Observer?” The first figure inquired. He was quickly cut off by the third. “Patience, friend.” The Observer knelt back at his point on the triangle as his companions leaned forward. Many omens were revealed to him in this casting, he explained. One of the glasses shattered into long, sharp fragments. This meant a plentiful harvest. Other fragments twinkled like gems. A poor fishing season, you see. And the floating particles. The certain something new… “Cosmic minerals,” he said, “Delivered from the heavens.” One of his companions leaned back, jutting his chest. “