Adriana Calloway
3rd Period English
January 23, 1945

Mr. Zibowitz: This is my example of a story avoiding Deus Ex Machina. I tried to make it subtle, but I think it worked.

Hemera smiled in the misted dusk, silently witnessing Rue entering the door of her secluded hideout among the various tunnels. He was a handsome sight, dressed in blue silks, battered only slightly from his long journey. She cooed to him, "Come, my love."

He found it impossible to ignore such a bold request, so he stumbled, weak, weary, and even confused from lack of sleep, toward his fiance. "Hello, sweet one," he began, "I have scoured the distant lands in search of a way to stop my father, but have failed." He frowned, distant, lost, saddened by his words and deeds.

She grinned at him, almost lupine in barely leashed ridicule. "I am not worried." she said. "Your father works deals with creatures most foul, completely unaware the line he treads—the chances he takes with his very soul. His defeat lies simply within upsetting that balance, disrupting his bargain. Demons never take excuses, and will always depart when difficulty arises, for there are easier souls to steal." She paused and closed her eyes in a resigned sigh. "Though I fear saving your father, even the small honorable part of him that remains, is impossible. The demons will throw him to the dogs to avoid blame, and he's already far too involved to claim ignorance."

Rue breathed in undisguised relief; she did understand. That would certainly make things easier. "True," he nodded in agreement. "But saving him is the least of my worries. His folly has ruined our entire kingdom, and with his contrived marriage proposal, has dragged your lands into the miasma." He sat upon a nearby stump and tried collecting his thoughts. "Cerebus himself strove to thwart my journey. This is far beyond him, or any possible contract he could sign."

Hemera, shocked, gasped "What? Cerebus?! Surely you're wrong."

"No. And to my great relief, the gods themselves interceded on my behalf. Cerebus was stricken back to hell, and I continued to find you." He tilted his head in inquiry, "what is wrong, my sweet?"

"This is terrible!" she shouted, a disgusted sneer rippling through her fur. "Gods and devils play significant games, and now we're directly included, as pawns in some larger scheme! I'd rather they killed us outright!" she sniffed.

Had Rue not expected such an outburst, he might have endeavored to sooth Hemera's fear, but he knew the stakes, and their implications. "Maybe. But I like to think the gods are just as misguided as you or I. Their power speaks nothing of their wisdom, so their mistakes are merely flush with grandeur."

Intrigued, she wondered, "Tell me what you mean."

"I mean, that Erebos and his allies, dark and twisted, have attracted the ire of even greater powers. Now that this is beyond us, we can almost stand aside and look upon the battle, even through generations, as the gods rage upon each other. No matter who wins, our kingdom will have long been forgotten."

She nodded, unfazed by his reasoning. "And what if you're destroyed in the cataclysm of their overwhelming power?"

He'd expected that. When dealing with gods of any alignment, one knew the destruction they could wreak, even without offence. "Then I ask a boon. Benevolent beings will repay my devotion, and others will desire future lopsided deals. We win, regardless of their casualties."

Hemera wished it could be that easy. "Yes. And what if nothing is left?"

"Then it won't matter," he said without pause. "Destroyed or otherwise embroiled, our kingdom is lost without some victor. Damn my father's stupidity."

Hemera, ever the predator, smiled. "And what if I could guarantee your safety? Everyone's safety?" It was an interesting question, not without possible risk, though not a single detail of the plan had yet been revealed.

"Tell me," he said. He'd traveled these many leagues for just this reason: her ultimate wisdom, for good or ill, to resolve the impossible.

She frowned then, a picture of depression and defeat. "You seek to manipulate things, forces, beyond yourself." And then a picture formed before her. "You must equalize all, and find a champion. Even through time, space, and death itself, must you search. The gods care nothing of us, and eventually we'll be forgotten." A tear slid down her cheek, then, though she ignored its passage. "I've seen, Rue, where this leads. To save your kingdom, you shall lose all. Your father, your subjects, your life, and even me."

He didn't want that. Anything, even death and an eternity of torment, would be preferable. But he understood. He'd pay for his father's sins, a multitude of unparalleled transgressions without equal, and even forget himself for good measure. To thwart the gods, he'd lose everything he held dear, and damn the consequences. "What of me?" he asked.

"You'll pay the highest, and worst price of all," she said, now crying outright. "You'll be forever damned, a chaotic lynchpin within the loom of fate. When the pantheon is finally brought low, and you seem a mere tool of decay and pain, everything will depend on memories you've long since discarded. Without your champion, our champion, the gods themselves will feel the ultimate bite of demise, utter nonexistence, and every consequence as everything unravels into oblivion."

Shocked by everything he'd been told, he had only one question: "Why?"

"Because," Hemera whispered. "Gods, machines, men, rabbits, everything ultimately bows to infinity and its lack. All exists because it simultaneously does not, and within that conflicting maelstrom, sits raw possibility. I fear we are a casualty of chance. Somehow you'll shatter this predicament, and though separated by entropy itself, your suffering will usher enlightenment."

"Then I am content." he stated, boldly. "I work to manipulate eternity, and any small success is a grand celebration. If you see true, even with my purpose forever lost to the annals of history, to the detriment of my kingdom, and your love, the champion will set things right because they have no choice. I am the instrument to force their involvement barring ultimate obliteration. Even spanning aeons, we've already won."

She kissed him, then. "Then I shall see you again in ten thousand, thousand years, when fortune and forever relegate us to a beam across the facets."

Still not fully understanding, he acquiesced. She always spoke of the facets without explaining them. So be it, he thought to himself. Shimmer or split, the gods will heed my call, or else exterminate creation. Really, they had no choice.