Let's see what's going on in the Cave...


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Scene 5: To Determine

2020 B.C.


She had not spoken to Clotho, since their heated confrontation not too long ago. Not even so much as a glance had been exchanged between the two of them, since then. The youngest Fate had made her feelings clear, toward Rider and toward her sister, and had made quite a scene of inferring what Lachesis's intentions were.

For that - as well as other factors, all the love and favor Clotho constantly received but did not rightfully deserve, of course - Lachesis vehemently hated her.

And she always would. Her audacity, in assuming and asserting that her own sister's intentions weren't good! No matter whether it was true, whether or not Lachesis harbored any ulterior aim, it was Clotho's place to trust and to respect her elder sister, all the same.

These were the sentiments and beliefs that the middle Fate forcibly tried to ingrain in her own troubled brain. Convincing herself that she had every right to stay by Rider's side, for he had chosen her as his bride. She was his wife; their union was legitimate, and set to last for life. Had Clotho any such claim to him? No, she most definitively didn't.

As Clotho's golden thread inched closer toward Rider's with each passing day, each fateful visit to the Cave, Lachesis's efforts to convince herself that she was entitled to stay with her husband grew ever more desperate. Surely the approach of an encroaching little sister was no reason for two matrimonially bound souls to separate.

Down on earth, while waiting for Rider along with the rest of his camp, as he went forth to Argos to fight his father, she had decided to take a brief nap so as to revisit the Cave in her dreams. Now here she was. And meanwhile on earth, her sister was currently dangerously close to crossing paths with Rider, it seemed.

Despite her power as the weaver, Lachesis wasn't dumb enough to try to derail Clotho and Chrysaor from their path to rejoin Rider, after the harsh words she'd heard loud and clear from her sister - Atropos and Chaos had heard them as well, and Lachesis wasn't sure she could afford to have the whole Cave turn on her.

It was bad enough that doubt had been cast on her decency and honesty; her task now was to act in such a way as to always be able to defend her own integrity. Standing by one's husband was always a morally defensible choice, surely-

"Love, may I ask what troubles you?" broke in a gentle coo.

Lachesis swiveled her head, startled at the interruption; Chaos's sudden presence always came as unexpected. She cleared her throat and cracked a smile. "Oh, nothing at all, I - I'm just... doing what I do."

"Determining the paths of threads upon the Loom?"

"Mm-hmm," Lachesis hummed in affirmation, taking up another pair of random mortal threads to interlace together. Too distracted at the moment to consider whether they were well suited to each other.

"Are you distracted at all, in wondering what to do with your own?"

She blinked and went on blindly weaving. "How do you mean?"

"Well, in light of your recent altercation with your sister, I just wasn't sure whether-"

"Whether what?" Lachesis somewhat spastically cut in. "Whether a wife has a right to remain faithfully by her beloved husband's side?"

A subtle smile played across the lips of the primordial deity, amused at Lachesis's compulsive defense of her firm sense of marital sanctity. It was a good thing that the Fate kept her gaze fixed upon the Loom and didn't see, as it was something of an insult to her dignity.

"Of course not, dearest," Chaos reassured her. "I daresay every wife has such a right. I just wasn't sure whether there might be any other factors that could possibly affect what you decide."

Lachesis frowned at the next pair of souls she was set to unite, reflecting that they somehow felt perfect for one another, then filled with a fleeting urge to keep their threads apart, just out of spite.

It was a fleeting urge, and silly; she would never do something out of sheer spite. Her motives were always more virtuous, surely.

At any rate, here Chaos was trying to imply that there were other aspects of the situation that should influence Lachesis's decision. She was clearly taking Clotho's side, as Mother always had, as everybody always did, and that just wasn't right. Lachesis had to remind her that holy matrimony was what truly mattered. Such a primordial being was surely vastly ignorant about the mortal world, about the operations of human relations and the all-important institution of marriage, besides.

"I love him, and he-" she paused, wishing she could claim in honesty that her affection was returned, but unable to utter the lie, "...he chose me as his bride."

"Yes, I understand," Chaos acknowledged with a bow of her silvery head. "But I also understand that your sister is set to join you, very soon. Unless you choose to redirect her path upon the Loom..."

Wide blue eyes blinked, sensitive and indignant. "What makes you think I would do such a thing?"

Primordial greys pierced through the pretense of innocence pasted onto the Fate's pale face. It seemed that little, if anything, was beyond the vast scope of her gaze. "If you and Clotho should cross paths upon the earth, the both of you standing before the man you cherish as your husband - what do you imagine will happen?"

Lachesis grew paler by the second. She had not wished to think on that, and wished that Chaos hadn't mentioned it. But so she had.

"Well, given the ease and certainty of your decision, you must be confident that this man's heart belongs to you," the deity pronounced. "That the love you share as man and wife is mutual and true. As long as you are sure of this, then you must know exactly what to do."

The Fate resumed her routine work upon the Loom.

"Poor Clotho, though - it will be hard for her, no?" the grey-eyed goddess reckoned. "To be a woman spurned, rejected by her dearly beloved, the man to whom her poor heart is devoted - to determine to pursue someone who does not love you... it just seems so sad. I can hardly fathom a fate more desperate or more tragic than that."

Why did this white-haired hag's words seem to be saturated with subtext? Were those undertones of irony or sarcasm that Lachesis so resentfully detected? She would not stand for such a galling insult...

"But don't mind me - I'll let you get back to doing what you do," Chaos excused herself, faint hints of condescension in her honeyed coo. "The path of all threads is entirely yours to determine, of course."

So it was.

Lachesis sat still and did nothing for a moment after the primordial visitor had left. When she next extended her hand toward the Loom, she wished fiercely that she could alter the path of a certain golden thread... but then reached for another instead.



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... Any reactions, predictions? ;)


Next scene, we'll check in with #Axria...


P.S. I know that many of you are probably eager for more #Cloder, in both A.D. and B.C. - and it will happen a bit later on in Episode 10, promise!! :) Till then, we will be seeing Atria and Lacey more often than Cloe; as I was planning out this episode, I just had to arrange scenes in this order for purposes of chronology/consistency. So hopefully that makes sense, and to all my dear #Cloder fans, thanks for your patience! ❤️


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