25. FORTUNA

FORTUNA

The Present

T HE goddess Fortuna sat alone at a table inside the Mediterranean bistro on Queen St. West. Her face was pensive; she was lost in deep thought, contemplating her next move. Nearly thirty minutes had passed since the warrior-god left the establishment with his prey. The diners remaining in the place occasionally broke the silence around her with their clinking of utensils and whispered conversations.

Despite sitting near Coriolanus during his exchange with the mortal and intensely watching, Fortuna went unnoticed by the god, even when she first entered the establishment, as eye-catching as she was. Her ability to stay undetectable to other immortals regardless of proximity or their age and power was without equal.

Fortuna styled her dark curly hair in a long double-twisted ponytail with genuine gold woven into it. She wore a metallic blue satin maxi skirt and a V-neck blouse in black linen with long puff sleeves. On her feet, Grecian sandals shimmered in a vibrant gold shade to match her expensive jewelry and the gold in her hair. Classic in her Mediterranean loveliness, she looked every bit the modern, twenty-first-century fashionista.

The goddess of luck and fortune was presently in Toronto to reunite her favoured star-crossed lovers and finally break the curse upon Olympius that haunted them. Through her gift of foresight, Fortuna experienced a particularly powerful premonition of this very night several months back, filled with details of an event significant enough to potentially liberate the lovers from perpetual heartache and banish the ghost that secretly tormented them.

Long ago, Fortuna took it upon herself to monitor the tragic love story of Olympius and Coriolanus throughout the ages. The sinister ghost of Olympius’ Maker was the root cause of their initial breakup and continued to sabotage every opportunity for their reconciliation and everlasting union. The Fates forbade Fortuna from directly telling the lovers about the curse and the apparition’s animosity toward them, but she could subtly manipulate situations and events .

And she often did, nudging Olympius and Coriolanus down specific paths amid the grand theatre of their lives. The goddess never crossed the line into outright meddling but created scenarios that allowed luck and chance to work their magic on the two gods.

And without fail, the apparition always showed up to spoil things.

Not long after Coriolanus first left Olympius, the warrior-god had booked passage on a ship sailing from Italia to Greece, choosing not to use his power of flight to cross the waters. He had wanted the long journey amid the company of mortals, having his fill of boisterous gods.

Having foreseen Olympius coming to his senses and going after Coriolanus to apologize and make things right, Fortuna had gone to the port ahead of him to witness the reunion. But she arrived too late to prevent the apparition from setting fire to the dock, burning to ash every sail-worthy ship. The malevolent spirit carried out the crime in the false flesh of Olympius, ensuring that others saw that face as the perpetrator of the sinister act.

When witnesses described Olympius’ features to Coriolanus, their thoughts verified his Maker as the culprit. The enraged warrior-god saw this as another attempt by Olympius to restrain his autonomy and punish him for leaving.

This incident at the dock, which the goddess did not foresee, set any potential reconciliation back years.

A particularly devastating turn of events in the tragic love story of the two star-crossed lovers occurred in fourth-century Brittania .

Having assumed the guise of Gian, a humble tavern owner, Coriolanus, despite his broken immortal heart, finally found a sense of contentment, even some solace, in the peaceful setting of a quaint coastal village in ancient Devonshire. The gentle lull of the ocean and the warm embrace of the welcoming locals helped ease the pain within his wounded soul.

One hundred years had passed since Olympius’ last unsuccessful attempt to reconcile with Coriolanus. However, despite past failures, he finally mustered the courage to try again. Finding the warrior-god was never an issue for Olympius, given that he was his Maker and could instinctively locate Coriolanus anywhere in the world through their blood connection.

Shortly after deciding to reunite, Olympius saw Fortuna in a waking dream, warning him of a terrible event about to happen. She urged him to act quickly in seeing Coriolanus yet could not reveal further details or explain the urgency. Although her messages were often vague, Olympius knew to trust her portents.

That very night, he took to the dark skies from his residence in Greece and flew as fast as he could to Britannia.

Having ventured out on a feeding excursion as the sun set on the village that evening, Coriolanus was some distance away from his new home. At this opportune time, the apparition, with its malicious intentions, materialized in the physical realm.

Upon again assuming the form of Olympius, hardly a challenging endeavour anymore for its ghostly state, the apparition killed everyone in the village with its powerful pseudo-flesh, leaving only one mortal alive to inform Coriolanus about the evil that transpired in his absence and to ascribe blame to Olympius. And the warrior-god just happened to return moments after the real Olympius arrived.

Before being snatched back to the immaterial abyss that unfailingly called for it, the apparition, in ghostly form, watched with glee as Coriolanus, through blood tears and a rage that could reawaken Mount Vesuvius, rebuked Olympius, believing he committed the atrocity before him and cast him out of his life forever.

However, forever was too long for either lover to stay committed to.

Over the centuries, both gods, though Olympius far more often than Coriolanus, attempted to reunite, explain their side, apologize, and implore forgiveness. Every time, though, no matter how hard Fortuna tried to intervene for good, shackled by the limitations of her directives, the apparition managed to thwart every attempt—sometimes in little mischievous ways, but more often substantial, reprehensible ways.

During the Napoleonic Wars, Coriolanus finally snapped after one too many heartbreaks.

Having encountered Olympius unexpectedly upon the battlefield at the fall of Madrid while he was feeding upon dying soldiers, Coriolanus repudiated his Maker for once again entering his life uninvited to attempt another pointless reconciliation under his terms and when it was convenient for him. No longer capable of enduring their acrimonious love story, flitting century after century between anger and numbness, Coriolanus refused to hear Olympius out and banished him from his life.

Fortuna could sense the warrior-god’s shattered heart and knew he meant what he said this time. Had she failed in her ancient promise to see true love prevail? Had the vile apparition ultimately won? Even though she did not see the imp with its vitriolic spite during this dreadful occasion, she heard its mocking laughter ringing in her head.

Sadly, Fortuna remained unsuccessful at motivating the ancient night god to make more reconciliation attempts with Coriolanus. For over two hundred years, she observed Olympius’ gradual descent into despair as he withdrew from the world, wallowed in self-pity, and secluded himself in a grand villa, which stood upon the ancient spot where he had elevated his beloved to godhood.

And Olympius steadfastly honoured Coriolanus’ desire for separation and stayed away—until this eve.

In her potent vision concerning this night, Fortuna saw why the ancient god chose to break his pledge and leave his misery, solitude, and self-confinement to see Coriolanus—but not face him. It was a lamentable, horrifying reason and one she needed to prevent from coming to pass.

Utilizing the crucial insights from her prophetic vision, the goddess skillfully orchestrated events to fulfill her objectives, deftly maneuvering all the key players to their intended positions, ensuring every step aligned with her grand design .

Fortuna foresaw Toronto, where Coriolanus currently lived, as the place where the poignant event was to occur. Upon her arrival in the city on the very night when it would all go down, she quickly discovered Olympius haunting the area, watching his beloved warrior-god, but always from a distance.

To Fortuna, both gods being in the same place for the first time in hundreds of years and existing in an era with such technological advantages was the epitome of good luck and a fortuitous instance of chance. Providentia had called her fertile mind to action, to concoct a plan to reunite the two lovers at last and for eternity. Fortuna believed this with all her heart and soul.

The face of a young mortal man who looked strikingly similar to Olympius was also revealed in the vision. Fortuna only knew his role in this affair once she arrived in the bustling metropolis and discovered Coriolanus’ intention to perform at a strip club. Then, she understood the mortal’s purpose. To suit her objective, she placed the idea of going to the strip club in the heads of the mortal’s highly suggestable, pushy friends.

Fortuna wished for the ancient god to be repeatedly reminded of his true love that night, the one she needed him to be with, the one he deserved to be with.

Intentionally causing Olympius to have a stroke of bad luck, Fortuna was responsible for the lapse in his concentration, which allowed Coriolanus to sense him, albeit briefly. Whether the warrior-god believed he detected his Maker’s presence mattered little; she knew Olympius would remain in his thoughts all night. The momentum of her scheme was in full swing.

Seeing the waiter approaching her with the bill, for it was close to closing time, Fortuna snapped her fingers. The man stopped, turned around, and walked back to the POS station. After a minute, he returned to her table and told her that another diner had paid her bill. Though it was only a glass of wine—that never once touched her lips, not that anyone noticed—she smiled and told the waiter to thank the person for her.

“This must be my lucky night,” she smirked.

“Have any plans for the rest of the evening?” the waiter inquired. He figured it was a stupid question due to the late hour, but one said from habit.

“As a matter of fact, I do. I’m on a quest to mend broken hearts, save true love, reap some revenge, and restore balance.”

Fortuna’s response, delivered with a flair of theatricality, left the waiter wide-eyed and speechless. With urgency, she walked past the shocked man, left the restaurant, and headed towards the alley where she believed the night’s drama would reach its conclusion.

However, she had sadly foreseen possible tragic outcomes for several participants and prayed that she could prevent at least one from becoming a reality.