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It's a funny thing
when stars align--no one actually knows it. There may be astronomers with
their telescopes and astrologers with their charts trying to keep track,
but they can't see. . .not really.
The light from one star might take two hundred years to reach the earth.
The light from another might take a few thousand. By the time someone saw
the cosmic connection it would have long since ceased to be, and, because
of the world's limited vantage point, the alignment the person did
see would only be an illusion.
We never see the real deal. The real deal happens without our noticing,
and without our even having the ability to notice. Perhaps a mathematician
of the genius variety, an Einstein or a Hawking, could figure it out if
they knew what to look for, but there are so many stars. . .
With all the bits of light and matter following their own paths of motion,
no one could be expected to sense the true moment when the connection had
been made. And, given the speed of light and the distances traveled, by
the time someone understood the connection all that would be left would be
the light and shadow and aftereffects. Aftereffects like the mist
enveloping the cliff where not too long ago a witch gathered forces too
dark and too powerful for her to control. The black magic had been
siphoned off her and channeled into the earth where, in the fading light
of dusk, a gray tendril of preternatural brume stretches from the cliff
down the hill to the graveyard where beings of unearthly power had
violently been turned to dust.
Fate may have noticed the alignment. Fate may have foreseen the events
that produced such consequences, and, if the Earth had been an inch to the
left or spinning a fraction of an second faster, the whole mess would have
been avoided. But Fate was a bitch and didn't really care. Besides, this
was Sunnydale and stuff happens. . .
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