“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’s sister 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?”
“Yes.”
“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.”
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