mars into libra and august 2025 | the strategist and the drowned daughter

I was gifted a Masterclass subscription a few weeks back and without time to do both this blog and the creative writing assignment this week, I thought I'd combine the two.

Mars in Libra part I is HERE and we talked about it in the monthly. Part I is the astro and surely the most useful. This is Part II - something different/a fictional interpretation of the archetypes and myths. It includes the asteroids I didn't get to in Part I (we will talk about them in the Full Moon post).

OK, here is the story of Mars into Libra in the summer of 2025 with all the other stuff including - Thereus conjunct Mars, Sedna conjunct Uranus and Borasisi (the dystopian tech future that is haunting us) conjunct Saturn and Neptune.

THE STRATEGIST AND THE DROWNED DAUGHTER

There was once a kingdom suspended in a delicate BALANCE.

Built like a collection of giant hourglasses over shifting sands. Its beauty was dazzling and its symmetry legendary. A land of equality. A land of peace. A land of artful avoidance. The Kingdom of Libra was ruled not by kings or queens, but by agreements. Treaties. Compromises. And when the truth became too unruly, it was ruled by the pink paint the Librans poured over problems until they disappeared.

In this land lived Marsellus, a soldier turned Strategist. He had ended five wars with his pen and dinner jacket never once drawing his sword. Marsellus knew about justice. He knew how to charm, how to placate, how to weigh, and when he needed to, he knew how to wound without blood.

One night, as the Full Moon rose, cold and pale above the glass towers of the city, a rumble echoed across the sky. A message from the outer worlds carried by the inner winds arrived. The stars cracked open. The carefully balanced kingdom of Libra began to tilt.

Across the horizon walked two towering forms from the fiery land of Aries.

There was Saturnius - the man of steel, the architect of obedience, the battle-tested ruler of time and authority. And there was Neptunius - the dreamer, glowing with righteous illusions, eyes burning with both inspiration and delusion.

They claimed a New Law had been written. The age of compromise was over. From now on, action would be absolute - or not at all. They promised order AND transcendence.

"The way forward is to obey and to believe", they said, speaking with one voice. And for a while the people of the kingdom did just that, lulled by ritual and rhetoric, comforted by the familiar feelings of busyness and numbness.

As the summer dragged on and the people grew more and more tired, Marcellus was summoned to negotiate with the visitors.

As he approached the twin figures, he saw what the others had missed. He saw what stood behind Saturnius and Neptunius. He saw a nearly invisible flame, flickering but potent. Its name was Borasisi, a false Sun who whispered stories of a perfect world, one built with the tech fed on every word that had ever been uttered. A perfect world built on "truths" that had never been tested and the lies we believe in order to be happy.

“Why do they believe this?” Marcellus asked Thereus, his quiet shadow self - the beast-man who followed him with bear claws and silent eyes.

“There are lies,” Thereus said, “that feel warmer than the truth. They build cities on them.”

Marsellus looked at the shifting sand and felt the world spinning differently now. The old balance cracked. The wind carried not just rebellion, but MEMORY.

Together they moved through the city, door by door, den by den, dragging out the truths long buried beneath progress, faith, patriarchy and comfort. They turned east, where a new star had fallen into the sea.

There Marsellus found Sedna. The drowned daughter had begun to weep. Cast away long ago, betrayed by her father to save himself and swallowed by the deep seas. And there, like many women before her, she had grown both monstrous and divine. Her eyes were storm-clouds. Her fingers were broken bone. Beside her stood Urania, daughter of stars, whose voice was prophecy and whose words cracked across the night sky like a bug in the fractured code of Borasisi's collective consciousness.

“Why do you rise now?” Marsellus asked Sedna. Sedna raised her voice, and the sea boiled. “Because they forgot me. Because they told stories where I was too inconvenient to remember. Because in their world, pain is ornamental and entertaining. But I have waited, and I have watched. And now they must see, too.”

So, Marsellus returned to the city, but not with a treaty as expected. This time he came with a storm. He brought Sedna’s grief into the Council of Libra. He shattered their glass towers with Urania's words. He laid bare the illusions of Borasisi and Neptunius and peeled back Saturnius's laws to reveal the blood, bone and backs that built them.

There was no applause from the Librans. No one slept. The people did not praise the truth and freedom that blistered their eyes wide open.

But something shifted. The imbalance that had been camouflaged raged awake. The towers bent. The treaties rewritten. The people remembered what had been erased and gave names to the wounds they had inherited. They began to speak not as victims and not as survivors but as AUTHORS and the words and old stories were laid down like kindling and set on fire to make way for the new words.

Marsellus walked away from the ashes with Thereus behind him.

“You destroyed the world,” Thereus said.

“No,” said Marsellus. “I told it the truth.”

xo all

and, yes, it's kind of Matrix-y, I couldn't help myself - let's see what kind of 'truth' August brings us .....