VII. The Fates

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- Apollo -

Across the world from where Olympus stood, a dark and uninviting tower loomed over an abandoned land. It was encased in vines and little purple flowers that climbed to the spire, an indication of how long it had stood.

Inside, there were almost always three sounds present.

Pull. Measure. Cut.

A song that never seemed to end. The destiny of those little threads was discussed as the song went on.

"An untimely death, what a pity-"

"Perhaps he should've been more kind."

"A wife and child will be left alone-"

"This man will be cruel, they won't mind."

Laughter would peal out the open tower doors before the song would continue.

Pull. Measure. Cut.

"A god's thread here, see how it shines?"

"Ah, and look at where it intertwines!"

"A child of two such opposite in nature?"

"Shush dear, don't laugh- she'll be a queen in time."

The voices that discussed the future so calmly and casually belonged to three women- Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos. Three sisters who could see past, present, and future, and who's divine role was to determine the fate of each individual. So, naturally, they were nicknamed the Fates.

Clotho, the sweetest of the three, would pull out the thread and see it's possibility. She tried to weave happiness into each fiber, but happiness is much harder to find than trials.

Lachesis, the logical one, would measure out the life span, and see the misfortune in each one. She was blunt, and spoke her mind. She didn't care much for humans, gods, or any other creatures besides the other two in the room beside her.

Atropos, who cut the thread to mark the end of life. She spent a great deal of time in the Underworld, and took the passing of life quite seriously. Her aim was never off, despite what those on Earth would say when someone died seemingly early. No, each life was always cut at the precise point it needed. Atropos was a teacher- sometimes a life ended to teach the liver a lesson. Sometimes it ended to teach those around it. Whatever the case, her job was done with upmost care and accuracy.

The three had been at this for longer than they could remember. Even as children, born of Zeus and the Goddess Titan, they had spent their time prophesying and foreseeing.

Below them, the black, red, blue, and purple threads of human life intertwined and weave, each cutting off to let a new one take place. Black defined the wicked, red the righteous. Blue were those somewhere in between who just tried to survive. Purple were those innocent who were killed, never having time to pick another side.

Above them were threads of gold- the threads of the immortals. They stretched seemingly forever, and perhaps they did. There were no individual markings of attitude- the gods changed too many times over eternity for such a thing. But the Fates knew each string from another, and watched with great interest.

For example, their eyes had been set on sweet Kore's, which was drifting from their mother's to another thread. Hades and Kore were a pairing they had foreseen, of course, but it was one event in the immortal sphere that didn't make them roll their eyes or curse at their endless dramas.

How did I know this, you might ask?

Because I am Apollo, of course. And with power comes connections, like the wise oracle who worshipped in my temple and gave me constant updates on the Fates.

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