Erebus caught it.
Erebus inspected it.
Erebus nodded.
Erebus left.
Nyx was paralyzed as she saw the gods depart; the deal was made. In that moment, she was an amphora running over with ancient, cosmic power. It leaked out of the cracks in her chest, threatening to drown the world in perpetuity as she leaned down over Asphodel. A great, silent shriek suffocated the rest of the peace out of her body as it threatened to cripple Nyx mid-air. Erebus had gotten into bed with her, encouraged her, swore his fealty to her… and went out to meet Zeus the very next day, accepting his terms.
Then let there be a war, Erebus, if you so desperately want one.
Nyx’s thoughts turned wicked and vile, thoughts of an eternal night and a blackness that could end worlds consumed her. She struggled to keep her rage contained, desperately trying to conjure images of her acolytes, of bystanders and civilians, those who would suffer if she unleashed her pain on the world. How often do men break hearts and leave the pieces for women to pick up, to cut themselves against, only to strike them down for crying out when they bleed?
If you were me, Erebus, you would have surrendered to your shadows with this pain and bathed us all in them…
There were too many thoughts in Nyx’s mind as her body was ripped apart through the sky and pulled in each of the four directions. She could hardly focus enough to bring herself back into one form, until a singular thought cut through the static in her soul.
The Fates.
Nyx took a deep breath. Then two. Then three. She felt the pieces of her beginning to reassemble from where they had been thrown across the sky with her rage. Slowly, she stepped down to the earth, her feet solidifying on the dirt, in the footprints of Erebus. The rest of her body followed suit and once she was fully corporeal, Nyx set off on foot to keep her power in check.
The Fates sat up a little straighter, making note that Nyx would be early.
???
“Sister!”The voice was light, melodic, as it rang out through the cavernous hallways.
“Yes, Lachesis?” Clotho’s voice was echoed in response.
“Will you get Atropos and meet me in the great hall? It seems—”
“Nyx is here early.”
“I’m already in the hall!”
The three voices of the Fates rang out in one song as they constantly talked over one another. Far from the old spinsters of legend, the sisters were impossibly beautiful and lithe. They prepared themselves for the age of the gods by camouflaging their true appearances whenever they were paid a visit, knowing all-too-well how beauty would cause the downfall of many a god. The only souls that they did not hide themselves from were Nyx, Erebus by extension, and Hades—simply because it would be too much work to glamour themselves constantly from those who lived in the Underworld. Clotho especially didn’t mind seeking Hades out every once in a while when her sister’s company grew too predictable.
The Fates lived in a large estate between Tartarus and Elysium, out of reach from anyone who was sent to either heaven or hell. Their loom was held in a center courtyard, protected on all sides by the estate’s walls. More importantly, it was protected through layers of enchantment. If anyone other than the sisters dared to cross into the courtyard and manipulate fate, their existence and memory would dissolve entirely. It was an oblivion that no soul could be recovered from, no matter if they were immortal.
Nyx approached on foot, which confirmed for the sisters that she was as distraught as they had foreseen. The front door opened to the great hall, making it easier for them to greet guests and keep those guests far from the sister’s weaving. The roof was covered in large, wooden beams, and there was a large basin of water in the very center, painted on all sides with glyphs in a language that pre-dated everyone in the room, including Nyx. Swirls of incense smoke curled up towards the ceiling and disappeared as painted tapestries of events future and past hung down from the ceiling.
Along the back wall of the room, sat three floor cushions, each threadbare cotton and worn around the edges. They were the opposite of thrones, simple resting places, where the Fates sat to pass judgement and hold discourse as a reminder that there was nothing simultaneously as simple and resolute as the word of the sisters. There were temples in Greece that were not as carefully designed or reverent in their layout.
It was into this hall that Nyx stepped, pulling on the heavy oak door without announcing her presence. There was no point, and she knew that, having a long, respectful relationship with the Fates. She had never once come to them in a panic, begging or pleading for them to change course, except on her acolyte’s behalf. To only cry about destiny once in her long, primordial life showed an acceptance and doggedness about Nyx that the sisters had long admired. Each of them was now seated on the floor, soft smiles making their way across the sister’s faces in tandem as the primordial stepped fully inside.
“It’s creepy when your faces move at the same time.” Nyx raised an eyebrow, a smirk of her own appearing on her face. She made her way across the tiled floor, gliding as if her feet had disappeared back into the ether. The sisters sat up a little straighter, eyeing her for a second before they broke into laughter.
Each of the Fates stood up and went to meet Nyx, the Goddess of night and the sisters meeting in the middle of the room. They kissed one another’s cheeks and stroked each other’s hair, finding that rare form of companionship amongst powerful women that knew too well what awaited them in the world of gods and men.
“What troubles you, Nýchta? Tell us,” Lachesis inquired, tilting her head to the side.
“Tell us.”
“Tell us.” The sisters echoed one another. Nyx took a deep breath and felt her tears quickly threatening to fall. She hadn’t anticipated that all it would take was one question, asked with care, to make her break.
“You already know.” Nyx tried to laugh it off with a wave of her hand, her eyes going to the statues that lined the walls. “I don’t know why you want me to rehash it.”
“We need to hear it from you.”
