{"id":2462,"date":"2023-01-07T14:37:47","date_gmt":"2023-01-07T21:37:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/?p=2462"},"modified":"2023-01-09T16:19:47","modified_gmt":"2023-01-09T23:19:47","slug":"a-lady-scorned","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/2023\/01\/07\/a-lady-scorned\/","title":{"rendered":"A Lady Scorned"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

prompt: Write about someone whose luck is running out.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

available at Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

She clapped her leathery wings in rage, her eyes glowing like hot coals. Her champion had not only let her down, he\u2019d flat-out betrayed her. As usual, only her favorite brother was here to comfort her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRelax, sister.\u201d Pride placed his arm and one wing around her. \u201cYou knew there was a chance to lose, and you took it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah, sure. You can puff yourself up with \u2018at least I tried\u2019 but that doesn\u2019t cut it for me; I have<\/em> to win.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Pride stood, holding his sister close. \u201cThere will be others,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe was to be my champion. I thought he was steadfast in his devotion to me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re my favorite sister, but I never understood why you chose him in the first place. Born to an addicted mother living in a hovel, with an alcoholic father serving a life sentence.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cExactly. And on his first birthday?\u201d She looked at her brother and saw no response. \u201cDo you remember what happened on his first birthday?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHis mother ODed in her car in the convenience store parking lot, he was in the back seat.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRight, but an off-duty police officer happened to be there. One whose brother and sister-in-law were in a uniquely perfect position to take in a child.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBecause they\u2019d just found out she was barren, right?\u201d Pride raised an eyebrow and pulled her close. \u201cI try to tell people, of all my siblings, Luck is the coldest, but they never believe me. Anyhow, carry on.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRight. Well, they were ready to take in and care for a special-needs child; child of a junkie mother and father in jail and all. He was<\/em> undersize and underweight, but that\u2019s because I was slowing his brain development.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat? Why?\u201d Pride released his sister and stepped back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe was genetically gifted, but without the proper environment, he\u2019d never reach his full potential. I held him back until he had that environment.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Luck took a deep breath and let the fire in her eyes calm. \u201cI made sure he had everything he needed: good schools, healthy food, loving parents. I even helped his adoptive father get elected to congress in order to get him to an even better school and ensure his acceptance to MIT at fifteen.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd all that time he remained your champion?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAlways. He attributed his situation and success to me. \u2018Luck has been kind to me,\u2019 he\u2019d say.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat changed?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDear brother, I don\u2019t know how, but your influence found him. I know you kept your part of the deal and never touched him directly, but\u2026.\u201d She let out a heavy sigh and settled into a squat position, elbows on her knees, face on her hands, wings behind her like a gargoyle on a parapet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat is it?\u201d Pride asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy is it easier for the brothers than the sisters? You, Envy, Wrath, Sloth, Lust, all of you. You influence someone a certain way and you gain power. It\u2019s not the same for me and my sisters.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cExcept Love,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt seems that way, but she is outright worshipped<\/em> by millions. No, we need belief\u2026<\/em>not just influence. Me, Chaos, Order, Fate, Wisdom\u2026well, she does a little better than the rest of us, but of the sisters, only Love truly prospers.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTell me what happened with your champion?\u201d Pride asked. \u201cThe one you bet Sloth a hundred years servitude would acknowledge you in an influential speech.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe finished out his PhD in Neuroscience, with his thesis, The Role of Ventromedial Pre-Frontal Cortex Excitation in Unconscious Bias and Apophenia<\/em>. The more he researched, the more he became convinced that his luck was a story he told himself to make sense of accomplishments he didn\u2019t feel deserving of.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAfter everything I did for him, everything for which he thanked me and praised me for years, he had the gall to denounce me in the footnotes of his paper. \u2018Despite the lies I told myself, there is no such thing as luck. Every accomplishment I\u2019ve made is a combination of my own efforts and my environment. There is no luck, just random, sometimes cruel, chance, as seen through the lens of our own biases. Our own actions determine our luck.\u2019<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Pride crouched down next to his sister. \u201cOof. He gave the credit to himself and<\/em> Chaos.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hot tears streamed down her face. \u201cHe did, but he\u2019s about to find out that I\u2019m a lot crueler than my sister. She plays fair; everyone is treated the same and the outcome is equally unsure. Not me.\u201d Luck took a deep breath and rose to her feet, spreading her wings, electricity building in arcs around her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Pride stood and stepped away from her. \u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m giving every bit of energy he gave me back.\u201d Her eyes were black pits and lightning arced between her teeth as she let out a pained scream.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The mass expulsion of power brought all the siblings to her side. The lives of individual mortals were rarely of any consideration, but this one had to be special to elicit such a response from their usually cold sister.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat now?\u201d Pride asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe watch and wait\u2026see if he ever comes back to my side.\u201d Luck smiled but it was a mirthless, icy thing. \u201cEven believing in bad luck is believing in me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The siblings watched as the man who had lived a charmed life faced a change in circumstance. His fianc\u00e9 left him stranded at the altar, leading him to drinks with his closest friend.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was the first time he\u2019d ever gotten drunk, and as gifted as he was genetically, he was just as cursed with a proclivity to addiction. It took months, but he entered a downward spiral. Alcohol took his job, then his possessions, then his home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Even as he ended up sleeping under a bridge because he couldn\u2019t be bothered to stay sober long enough to sleep in the shelter, he continued to attribute everything to himself. He knew that he had a high likelihood of addictive tendencies, yet he allowed himself to repeatedly drink until he was drunk to dull the pain of rejection.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His clothes wore thin, and he warmed himself by a barrel of burning garbage. An early winter storm had come in mid-autumn and marked the beginning of a brutal winter. There were no warm places left to sleep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The people he considered his \u201cfriends,\u201d the ones that helped keep him drunk, had sobered enough to get into the shelter, filling it to capacity. There were a few people still sleeping in tents with warm sleeping bags, but they wouldn\u2019t allow him anywhere near them. He didn\u2019t blame them. He clung to the belief that everything that happened to him, good and bad, was a direct result of his own choices.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The winter remained harsh, and his body began to show signs of failing. Thanks to not having anywhere left to panhandle, he had been sober for nearly a week when he built himself a nest under a bridge.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As he lay there shivering, he came to the realization that he had wasted his life. He hadn\u2019t published anything since his doctoral thesis. He\u2019d barely begun working in his field when he let himself be taken down by one negative event.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not<\/em> all my fault,\u201d he said to the bridge above him. \u201cSure, the drinking, or at least the starting drinking. I need to get help. But what started it all?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He curled into a ball, still shivering. \u201cShe got cold feet at the worst possible time, but I didn\u2019t do that. Now I\u2019m shivering, probably hypothermia, I\u2019ll be dead by morning. I used to have such good luck, right up until I decided there was no such thing. I guess my luck now is to freeze to death. You\u2019re a bitch, Lady Luck, even if I deserve it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She folded her wings, the electrical crackling around her fading to nothing. Her eyes brightened and her stance relaxed. She looked around to see that only Pride remained by her side, her other siblings having grown weary of her tantrum. \u201cHe\u2019s back,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot for long,\u201d Pride said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Luck twitched a finger, and a patrol officer turned on her search light and pointed it under the bridge on a whim, illuminating his huddled form. \u201cFate says as long as I intervene, he\u2019s got years,\u201d she said, \u201cbut he has no more chances with me. Any day he doesn\u2019t acknowledge my presence, I won\u2019t be there. If he ever<\/em> betrays me again, I\u2019ll end him then and there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re my favorite sibling,\u201d Pride said, \u201cI just hope that I remain yours.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

prompt: Write about someone whose luck is running out. available at Reedsy She clapped her leathery wings in rage, her eyes glowing like hot coals. Her champion had not only let her down, he\u2019d flat-out …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[208],"tags":[216,210,209],"class_list":["post-2462","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-trunk-stories","tag-fantasy","tag-fiction","tag-short-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pxT7i-DI","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2462","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2462"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2462\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2464,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2462\/revisions\/2464"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2462"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2462"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2462"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}