The golden tendrils of the ethereal goddess swept over all who bore witness. It was an epic moment that many had spent their entire lives awaiting and emotions were high as their eternal dreams were at last ready to be delivered, their tearful eyes fixed to the iridescent sky lest they suffer the misfortune of neglecting the majestic sight they longed for.
A thousand people stood in trance upon the mountain-top as they searched the painted skies, enraptured by the curls that wrought themselves amongst the shining stars, and a serenity rapidly washed over them as a sudden, blinding light burst over the horizon and temporarily shrouded the Favoured with a splendour they had not expected, yet all had secretly desired.
Moments passed and moments lost, the event that promised the greatest of fortune had vanished for another century. The sky returned to its natural, midnight hues as the golden swirls retreated into the ether, and a thousand people awoke from their bewildered stupor, their memories of the fortuitous experience forever lost... all had been found wanting and all had been denied.
The Favoured were now the Downtrodden, rejected and cursed by the fickle goddess they had served, their only prestige remained in guiding the future generations for the celestial event that would come once more. The Ascension was inevitable; one day there would come a disciple who remembered, and they would become their next sovereign.
RE: Fractal Writing Contest #9, and winners of the previous one.