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The Dinner of Eight

[When The Sandman series has one in its grip. Sigh!]

The Endless convened at their ancient table, a relic older than the stars themselves, its surface polished smooth by centuries of elbows, sighs, and spilt wine. Seven chairs stood ready, each accompanied by a book, a testament to their shared existence. Seven siblings, bound by fate and the weight of their own stories.

Destiny was the first to arrive, as always, his book chained to his wrist like a heavy secret. He did not glance at it; it was already watching him, its pages whispering the threads of fate. Death followed, her presence scattering warmth like breadcrumbs in the chill of the universe. Dream entered late, trailing a fine dust of sand and an enveloping silence. Desire glimmered with mischief, Despair cloaked in shadows, Delirium flickering with vibrant colours, and Destruction carried the scent of paint and the promise of storms.

They dined in ritual silence, each book murmuring its tales into the feast. From Death’s pages emerged a child’s fearless smile, a fleeting glimpse of innocence. Dream’s book revealed the wings of a prisoner, yearning for freedom. Desire’s tome hissed with fevered whispers, while Despair’s dripped with the weight of silence. Delirium’s pages spilled doodles across the plates, a chaotic dance of imagination. Destruction’s echoed with the sounds of wars and the quiet rebirth of gardens.

At last, as tradition dictated, Destiny opened his own book.

Half the pages lay blank, marked “Intentionally Left Blank.” Others were etched on sheets as thin as breath, the script blurring like a fading memory. The remaining pages swirled in a fog, waiting for the sun of understanding to illuminate them.

As the siblings leaned closer, a page began to clear itself. The words formed slowly, ink settling into the fabric of inevitability:

“One shall not finish this meal.”

A hush fell over the table. Even Desire’s smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty.

Then came the rip – not of paper, but of silence itself. The book shuddered, and a shadow slipped between its pages, spilling onto the table.

Chaos arrived.

There was no chair for it. The table groaned, stretching to accommodate the impossible. Chaos sprawled across the feast, kicking goblets and smearing wine across Dream’s pages, laughing with a voice like shattered glass.

Delirium clapped her hands, the butterflies in her hair falling lifeless onto the plates. Desire leaned forward, intrigued, until Chaos turned its shifting face toward them, revealing not beauty but a monstrous hunger that mirrored Desire’s own. Despair whimpered, a sound like a fading echo. Destruction clenched his fists, the tension palpable. Death’s smile vanished, replaced by a grim resolve.

Dream rose, his voice steady and commanding. “You do not belong here.”

Chaos tilted its head, a mocking gesture. “But I was written. Look, your elder has already allowed me.”

All eyes turned to Destiny. His expression remained impassive, yet his silence spoke volumes. The words on the page crawled like insects, then fled the lines altogether, scattering into the ether.

“I am your consequence,” Chaos declared, its voice a blend of mirth and menace. “You blurred your borders. You wrote where you should not write. You dreamed what was not yours to dream. I seeped through.”

Death’s voice cut through the tension, sharp as iron. “Then I will take you.”

Chaos smiled with a face that twisted and morphed. “You cannot. I was not born. I cannot die. I exist in the spaces between.”

The turkey crumbled into ash. The wine soured, turning to vinegar. The feast blackened, a reflection of the chaos unleashed.

Destiny closed his book with a sound like a lock turning, the finality echoing in the air. On the clasp, a single word glowed ominously:

“Irrevocable.”

And though Chaos dissolved like smoke, the taste of rot lingered in the air, a bitter reminder of the disruption. The table had been carved for seven, yet eight had feasted, leaving an indelible mark on their gathering – a reminder that even the most sacred traditions could be upended by the unexpected.

 
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Posted by on 10/09/2025 in Uncategorized

 

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