Jadina ran her fingers over the rough tombstone, her eyes fixed on her prize.
“Jadina, how can you know it’s there?”
“Shh! It can hear us.”
Maylin slowly swiveled her gaze around the necropolis. The moonlight cast no reflections from the dark tombs along the wide dirt rows. Silence wrapped itself around the withered trees and the dark scorched grasses left from years of neglect, heat and drought.
“There’s nothing here,” Maylin said, her voice barely audible above the dry rasping breath of the tombs.
Jadina – quiet as death itself – crept forward, darting between tombs and trees, her sword glinting in the moonlight. Maylin watched with envy, all the while praying she would not be detected by their quarry as she followed hesitantly behind.
“It’s that thing, isn’t it?” Maylin said as she caught up to Jadina. “The thing that lets you see into the past so clearly? Hypersia? Hypermastic? Whatever it was.”
“It’s called hypermnesia. There is a bit more to it, but yes.”
“I don’t just recall my life; I have total recall of every life that was ever lived, including those victims of the abominations. That is why the Vatican sent me out to destroy them in the first place.”
“Oh… everyone’s? Even the time I-”
“No, not your life. Your life is like a foggy path traced through history. An affect of being a Fate, I think. Now quiet. This creature’s hearing is acute.”
Maylin lowered her eyes, cowed.
Jadina put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a crooked smile. “You asked for this, you will see it. Your help will ensure its destruction.”
“I know... I’m just...”
“I know, don’t worry. You wouldn’t be human if you weren’t afraid. Ultimately, that is why you are here. To bring some humanity to my cause.”
Maylin nodded, for there was truth in Jadina’s statement. Maylin had been sent by the Vatican to help ground Jadina. One to see the past, and one to see the present. Another was guarded in the walls of the Vatican itself, the one who saw the future. At one time they called this trio the Fates, goddesses in their own right. In the age of enlightenment, the Catholic Church had realized what an asset they were, and put them to work in its service.
No longer goddesses, but tools. The Vatican claimed their abilities were gifts from God. The fact that the Fates did not always believe in the god of the Church did not matter. The Vatican found other ways to keep them under control.
To think that she, Maylin, could be a Fate... She shivered as Jadina turned back to the path. The silence grew thicker around them.
At the end of the path a large tomb loomed. A door there hung askance, hinges broken, stone cracked and jagged in places. The putrid smell of decay wafted through a window carved into the stonework. At one corner a gnarled tree as black as deepest night had spread broken limbs on the ground like kindling.
Jadina crouched down behind a statue of an angel, dewdrops flowing down its cheeks like tears. Maylin crept up beside her. The pair were a study in contrast. Jadina possessed a tall, athletic build, black hair cut short, and eyes so dark you could feel yourself falling into the depth of time confined within them. Maylin stood only to Jadina’s shoulder. Her hair was mousy brown, her eyes green and lively, and her cheeks were round. More cute than beautiful, and unremarkable in most ways. Maylin was a ground, a living conduit to the present for Jadina, who was often lost to her memories of the past. Maylin pulled her back from those memories, kept her in the present and fighting for the future. She was the link holding the three Fates together.