Plans within plans.

Pandora had never possessed much patience for doors.

The Wayward Heir descended upon Delos in a streak of incandescent colour, hurtling from the heavens at a thoroughly inadvisable speed. She struck the old marketplace amid a violent eruption of stone, timber, and glass. Empty stalls splintered beneath the blast. Masonry cracked and dust rolled out into the surrounding streets while the remnants of awnings tore free and tumbled through the square.

Pandora emerged from the centre of the devastation with a delighted twirl.

Plans within plans within plans.

The thought had occupied Her for some time now. One little bargain opened another possibility, which led somewhere else entirely, and that had given Her another idea. Truthfully, there were so many pieces in motion now that even Pandora had yet to decide where some of them belonged and which ones to pursue further.

Wonderful.

Her gaze travelled across the wreckage. An old stall had folded in upon itself. Splintered boards littered the paving stones. Somewhere nearby, timber gave a prolonged groan before another neglected section of the marketplace collapsed.

Ah. Perhaps She had come in a little quickly.

No matter. Beyond the old marketplace, Delos continued about its considerable business, and somewhere among its streets stood the temple of Prospero, Lord of Wealth. Pandora skipped through the smoking wreckage toward it, trailing stray motes of colour through the dust.

The Merchant God had something She wanted. Pandora, fortunately, had something to offer.

What passed between the Wayward Heir and the Lord of Wealth remained behind the temple doors. Neither God announced the terms. Those near enough received only the occasional tremor beneath their feet and, once, the unmistakable sound of laughter carrying from somewhere deep within the temple.

Eventually, Pandora emerged. The bargain had been struck.

Humming a tuneless little song, She wandered back through the shattered remains of the old marketplace, wholly heedless of the additional devastation She had brought to it. Another bargain secured, another part of Her scheme had fallen into place, and there remained so very much to do.

Plans within plans within plans.

With one final twirl, the Wayward Heir dissolved into a vivid cloud of colour, leaving Prospero to His wealth and the long neglected marketplace in considerably worse condition than She had found it.

~~~~~

Summary: Pandora, the Wayward Heir, struck an unknown bargain with Prospero, God of Wealth. The merchants of Delos were left to contend with the consequences of Her rather enthusiastic arrival.

Penned by My hand on the 12th of Mayan, in the year 1013 AF.