Dear Readers: Here it is the premiere of Book II :)  Picking up right where we left off, at the end of Episode 5, in a very special year: 1184 B.C.

Many of you have already read this scene posted as a Sneak Peek at the end of Book I, but *slight* changes have been made, so I hope you'll revisit it now ;)  Hope you'll enjoy it! Please do tune into the music, too!

And without further ado... let's jump into Book II :D



Scene 1: What It Meant

1184 B.C.

"What happened."

It was not a question. It was a demand. A cry, its echo shrill amidst the shadows of the Cave; a curse, of an immortal soul against the human heart that she'd allowed to beat.

It was an answer. The answer she had hoped to deny, to escape—the knowledge that it had been wrong of her to hope for anything.

Whatever had happened, it was her fault. This Clotho knew. She'd brought it down upon the world. That was the answer to her prayers: the death of them. Of everything she'd ever dared to dream, and dared to love, upon the mortal earth.

Yet there were still more answers to be told. Clotho stared, brown gaze dark and cold, upon the grey-clad goddess kneeling on the stony floor.

"What happened," she demanded once again.

Her two sisters stayed silent, at their stations by the Loom. The stations to which they always returned, as if they'd never left, each time they fell asleep in mortal form. From this, it was clear that the vortex had knocked them unconscious, during their most recent visit to earth. Unconscious, or worse.

But that was not what mattered. Clotho could not have cared less now, about whatever fate befell her mortal form. There was so much that mattered more.

After the last resounding echo of her words, the sole sound to be heard was heavy breathing—that of Chaos, spent and winded, as if she'd just shouldered the weight of the world on her shuddering frame.

The sight reminded Clotho of the first time she'd set eyes upon the deity. On Olympus, struggling to rise from the dust, in the wake of the vortex that had come to swallow all three Fates so long ago. Surely the same force had gone down to earth just now. But why? And how? What did it mean; what had it done?

She found that she was shuddering, too, even more violently than Chaos. The answers terrified her. Clotho hadn't even braved a glance toward the Loom yet, toward the threads. Afraid of what she might see if she dared to look. Her stare remained set upon Chaos, who presently raised her own gaze. Stormy greys, seemingly a shade darker now, for having witnessed and weathered a harrowing storm on the earth far below.

And in that gaze, Clotho knew all the answers lay. Although she couldn't read them all. Just like the Book of Fate.

Chaos released a sigh, composure restored with that last panting breath, words carried on a chilling whisper. "I had warned you."

"I know," Clotho replied, upon the instant. "And I know the fault is mine."

Lachesis started to object, voice burdened with a bitter sort of sympathy. "Clotho..."

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