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. (Gods are causing the trouble, not solving it!)

"I think," said the stranger, "that thou shouldst call me Lord."

Rue scowled. "I know you not," he icily returned, "and the son of Erebos calls no man Lord."

"Oh?" the man smiled. There was mischief there, and darker things: bodies baked in the sun; fulsome malevolence; chaos. "I should think, son or no, any hare against King Erebos be traitor. And to a traitor, all others art Lord." Smirking, enjoying the banter.

Rue's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

"A name thou want? Mayhap I shall tell thee... Oh, but that wouldst so dreary." The stranger turned around and seemed to ponder something, holding his chin in mock consideration. "Some call me Lopt; to others, Walker of Skies, Wizard of Lies, Shapeless, and Sly." He pouted then, grieving at his reputation; Rue almost felt remorse for this downtrodden being, almost consumed by his spell. "They do me great injustice! For I be but a simple wanderer; stories and prophecies I speak—to entertain—and fools act upon mine jests."

"Loki." Rue said through clenched teeth, air whistling through his paired incisors like a hiss. I am damned!

"Ah, but I see thou dost know me already. So this shalt be far simpler, mine friend!"

Of course Rue knew the stories, the rumors. Hemera herself warned him the gods would strive to thwart him. Erebos, for whatever reason, had their favor, though his evil was legendary. "How can I trust the God of Guile, when Erebos, full of spite, is treated like cherubim? What want you with me, other than my failure!?" he spat.

Loki shrugged. "What art thou to me but a passing beggar. I didst see thee not. I merely bring thee a story."

Rue was suspicious, but knew Loki would not leave before he had his say. He may seek to outwit the gods, but he could not confront one outright; he must wait. "Go on, then," he sighed.

The chaotic god cleared his throat, stood straight and tall, and fired Rue a wink both vicious and innocent with mirth.

"One who slivers the weave,
will befuddle and deceive.
So lives the she,
to draw the he,
'till none have cause to grieve."

"Such foolishness. Even from you, I expected more!" Rue barked, angry. The harlequin sought to annoy him, make him a fool. "You weave words like a child."

Loki held a finger to his lips, shushing Rue, and continued.

"There will come a girl,
and she will know thy name.
Protect her dear,
'till he is near,
and shed the bonds of blame."

Rue's heart skipped a beat. What treachery is this!? It was almost the same as Hemera's prophesy, but worse, for it carried the unmistakable scent of command. Rue felt dizzy, compelled as a thrall—enslaved. He stared at Loki, panic rolling through his furry frame like thunder, spilling from his eyes as pure desperation.

"What have you done!?" cried Rue.

Loki's laugh echoed through the sky, deep and haughty, full of self-satisfaction. "I require but a boon from thee, little one. T'is but a trifle, for the likes of thee. But worry not: thou shalt not die, till thy debt is repaid."

"Debt?" Confusion. Oh, so much confusion! Was this servitude the damnation of which Hemera spoke?

"The end of thy father's reign. Is that not what thou didst seek? In that, I am but thy servant." Loki bowed then, humble and sincere.

"But I–"

"Did not ask? Come, rabbit so full of sorrow, art thou so blind?" Loki stared, mischievous as ever. "When thou didst vow to oppose the gods—I who oppose all, heard thy call."

Rue cursed at himself: it was so obvious, so plain. But he already knew the stakes, so he was not afraid.