“The Battle of Hirmera was bloody, but our warriors made it through. Our temples still stand strong.”
Lachesis smiled as she remembered the words her cousin had told her and her sisters, regaling them with tales of bravery. The battle had been a long one, a bloody one. They had lost many people on both sides, both warriors and innocents. But the battle was over and it was once again time to count their blessings and weave the fabric of time.
Lachesis’ssister Clotho, one of the three spinners of fate, sat beside Lachesis singing of the things that are as she spun and weaved the threads of life on her spindle for the latest soul placed in her keeping. It was a duty given to Lachesis and her sisters before time began by their father, Zeus, and one they did with a steadfast dedication.
Lachesis sang of the things that were as she measured the threads woven by Clotho. It was her job to measure the thread of life allotted to each person with her measuring rod, choosing the lot in life a mortal would have and measuring off how long that life would be.
Beside them both sat Atropos, singing of the things that are to be as she cut the threads of life. She chose the manner of each person's death; and when their time came, she cut their life-thread with ‘her abhorred shears’.
They were the Moirai sisters, the Three Hands of Fate. They controlled the threads of life of every mortal from birth until death. At the moment of birth, they spun the threads of destiny, because birth ordained death. They give mortals at birth both evil and good moments, determining when they were brought into the world, and when they left.
Lachesis reached for another length of thread from her sister’s basket. Clotho had chosen the souls from the abyss and woven them into her threads then entwined the two life threads together. Once she was done, she placed the threads into a basket and then it was Lachesis’s turn.
Lachesis drew the two long threads out and measured them, checking for consistency between the entwined life spans. After a recent experience where two soul mates who should have been born during the same time period, but were separated by sorcery, they were being especially vigilant.
Very few times in the history of man had there been a snag in the fabric of time—the fall of Babylon, Pompeii, the Black Plague, the two great wars that had covered the entire surface of the world, numerous earthquakes and tsunamis, and chia pets, just to name a few.
And every time, mischievous and often evil forces had been at work.
Lachesis hummed happily as she smoothed the entwined threads between her fingers, and then stretched them out along her measuring rod. As she went to measure the segment, choosing the length of time the mortals would live, the two threads unraveled, separating.
Lachesis blinked in bewilderment. That had never happened before, not even when Mount Vesuvius erupted in AD 79. That had been a complete disaster, with over 16,000 people dying. Natural disasters happened. It was a fact of life. But the eruption of Mount Vesuvius had been caused by sorcery.
Lachesis pulled the two threads together and stretch them out along her measuring rod. The second she let go of them, they fell apart again. Lachesis swallowed hard as she lifted the two threads into her hand.
“Sister, did you entwine these two threads?”
Clotho leaned over, peering down at the two red threads. “Did you pull them from my basket?”
“Then I entwined them.” Clotho grabbed the two threads and spun them around in her hands. “What did you do to them?”
“I have done nothing to them!” Lachesis clenched her jaw so she wouldn’t snap at her sister. This was not Clotho’s fault. “I picked them out of your basket and stretched them along my measuring rod. The moment I let go of them, they simply fell apart.”
“Hmm.” Clotho wrapped both threads on her spindle and started spinning them again. Once both threads were entwined again, she unwrapped them and handed them back to Lachesis. “Here, this should do it.”
Maybe it had just been an accident.
Lachesis took the entwined threads and stretched them out along her measuring rod. The moment she let go of them, the two threads started to unwind and fall apart. “Sister!”
“I don’t understand,” Clotho said. “I’ve spun them twice. There is no reason why they should not stay together. They are destined soul mates.”