A glowing golden strand stretched between the gnarled spinning wheel and the loom. Knotted hands deftly spun the thick, golden yarn. Slightly younger hands, quick and experienced, wove the strand into the tapestry. Finally, at the end of the loom the youngest pair of hands sniped the strands of yarn at the end of the tapestries.
These three pairs of hands belong to the fates. The crone, in her wisdom, spins the essence of life– the soul of the person. The mother, with her experience, guides the life’s actions and paths. Finally the maiden, in her innocence, decides when life will end. Their ages, however, are deceiving. No god nor man truly knows how old the fates are. They are simply components to the endless cycle. They perceive realms and realities beyond what mortals could ever comprehend. With each tapestry they create, a new life is brought to fruition. The completion of a tapestry marks the birth of a cognizant life, and it’s planned path to the hereafter.
The only time the fates pause their work is to deliver a prophecy to the gods and the oracle at Delphi. Being multidimensional and all knowing, they serve only Time and her infinite number of realities.
This is a tale of caution. When you react to prophecy with fear, the ending you may seek to avoid, is exactly what you find.
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It was a bright, breezy day on Olympus. Hermes flitted about the clouds, shouting news from the valley to the mountain tops. Demeter, goddess of harvest and hearth, had birthed a beautiful baby girl with eyes as green as spring moss. The gods gathered at Demeter’s table, rejoicing in the birth of a new goddess.
“What will you call her?” Athena’s powerful voice rang out above the crowd. The group of gods hushed, allowing the new mother to speak without shouting.
Demeter smiled down at the tiny bundle in her arms. Thick hair black as fertile soil was already sprouting from the babe’s head. “Her name is Kore.” Kore cooed happily and the crowd of gods continued to chatter about baby Kore.
“What do you think will be her domain?”
“Spring obviously”
“Summer perhaps?”
“Maybe a fertility goddess?”
“We haven’t had a new fertility goddess in centuries!”
The conversations flowed from god to goddess, Aphrodite, Apollo and Dionysus all putting in their thoughts and opinions. When Zeus finally appeared at the table (absent a jealous Hera), there was already an electric buzz of energy that his presence fed exponentially. Although their merriment stretched time, it was mere hours after the child’s birth that the three fates appeared.
The fates were silent as they materialized in the room. The gods hardly noticed their presence at all– they were all so wrapped up in the baby goddess. Demeter was the first to see the trinity. Her face fell and she clutched her child closer to her chest. A somber energy befell the group as they all slowly realized that they had powerful company.
Three pairs of purple eyes glowed, swimming with galaxies instead of pupils. The mysterious women spoke in unison, their slow, rhythmic speech patterns effortlessly cascading from their ancient lips.
“Demeter a daughter born to thee
A spring goddess of fertility
Shall be an image of perfection
Her nineteenth year to change direction
A darkness grown in cracks between
Will give Hell its everlasting Queen
Olympus beware this poison flower
Will sanctify Hell and rise to power.”
As the fates locked eyes on Kore Demeter moved to cover her face, as if the prophecy were truly a curse. The fates faded slowly, their presence blowing away like an evening fog, leaving a chill in their wake.
Demeter’s face had drained of all color by the time the gods got around to discussing the situation. She could feel Zeus’s rage above all else, his infamous anger making the sky crackle. “She must go.” His voice was as unmoving as his stature. Standing at his full height he towered over the table, some of the minor gods and goddesses shrinking in fear.
Demeter spluttered to respond. “But she- she’s still just a child–”
“A child that threatens Olympus with her very existence. We cannot bring Olympus to war under any circumstance. She needs to leave, and never return, else she’ll face death if she does.” Demeter struggled to keep from shouting out at her king. She wanted to scream in defiance, but she knew he was right. As she hung her head in defeat, Zeus addressed the rest of the gods and goddesses at the table, “Hades should not be told of this Prophecy, whatsoever. Hell cannot be allowed to hold power over us. He must never meet Kore. This is not an event to be spoken of amongst other gods.” Zeus looked pointedly at Hermes, “You must not spread this news. No one will know other than the gods in this room, understood.” Hermes nodded quickly.
Zeus waved a hand, effectively dismissing the room. Gods vanished left and right and the room was left to Zeus, Demeter, and Kore. Zeus’s expression softened and he put an arm around his sister. “I know this is hard Demeter, but you have to do what is good for Olympus.”
Demeter nodded resignedly, “Yes, Zeus. I will find a place for her on the mortal plane. One where she will be safe from ever knowing us.” Zeus nodded once before disappearing with a crackle, leaving behind a smell of ozone and smoke.
Demeter rocked Kore gently and a single tear slipped down her cheek as she stared into the deep earthy green of her daughter’s eyes. “Oh my beautiful Kore. I will love you for an eternity.”
Kore stretched her tiny arms into the air and sighed contentedly, falling asleep in her mother’s comfortable arms. Demeter hugged her daughter close as she made her way to the waters of time at the edge of the gods’ dimension. At the water’s edge she fell to her knees, letting the soft grass hold her weight. With trembling hands she held Kore out over the serene water and watched as an eddy started to form beneath the fragile infant’s body. Time, sweet goddess, please keep my daughter safe. Take her to a safer time on the mortal plane. Bless her with a happy life.
With that final prayer, Demeter released her hold on her daughter and watched her be absorbed into the endless abyss at the center of the eddy, not knowing where Kore might end up.
Finite Fiction 