Primalcraft: Sins of Bygone days (book 2)

Chapter 6

"You will need to enter the realm of Moira," Coney said like it was obvious.

"Who is Moira?"

"A very grumpy old hag," Ahriman muttered and Blake could only frown at him. That did not help at all.

"Don't speak of her that way. She is the one who weaves fate and is both kind and beautiful."

"What does a rabbit know of beauty?"

"Fine, I might not know but she must be great. She is the one who creates fates!"

"Kissass."

"Both of you, quiet, please. Now, is Moira a god then?" Blake asked. Coney looked insulted while Ahriman chuckled.

"No, she is a tad above the gods."

"There is something above the gods?" Blake asked while frowning. He assumed the gods were the highest in rank and power, but then again. Ahriman is a god so...

"Archons are considered below gods but are often stronger than them. Avatars are the reincarnation of gods and other powerful beings and are considered above gods. And most of all, Moira is an Anterion. It means the first in some ancient language long forgotten," Ahriman explained to a confused Blake.

"An Anterion. Suggesting there is more than one. Why are they called the first then? There can only be one first," Blake muttered.

"Correct, the true Anterion who all others are named after is Khaos. He created all the worlds and is the source of all magic."

"He?"

"Fine, we say he but it's more of an it."

"And the others?"

"All life is born from Khaos. Even the other Anterions, but the Anterions were created to be the source of something. Moira and her brother Kala represent fate and time. Moira is the one who weaves the time and Kala is the one who makes sure time always follows what his sister has weaved on the Tapestry of Fate."

"Then... I will need to look at the Tapestry of Fate to see the future," Blake concluded.

"Yes, that is correct. The Sight of Moirai where in ancient Greece the three goddesses who weaved the past, present and the future. They are all based on Moira. That said, using the Sight of Moirai is no easy feat as Moira doesn't allow sneak peeks on her tapestry," Ahriman sighed and rubbed his face."I tried once and got slapped to some unknown dimension. The lady has no sense of humor."

"Then will I be fine?" Blake asked worryingly. He was no god so a slap from an Anterion would certainly kill him.

"Well..."

"Ahriman!"

"Ignore the foul being. It's only your soul which will travel to the Realm of Moira, it should be fine."

"I thought I didn't have a one!"

"Mortals and their limited understanding," Ahriman huffed," Anima's have something similar to a soul, it just doesn't work the same as a soul. It won't be reincarnated. It is like an object that can't be inhertited by the next generation. It ends with the death of that person instead of moving on to the next one. We higher beings still consider it a soul, maybe because that is what we have and we would like to think we have a soul, but humans do not think so."

Blake stared at Ahriman like he was insane, "So according to you, only my soul will be sent to another dimension if she finds me?!"

"Exactly," Ahriman said cheerily and Coney bit his leg.

"Don't listen to him! Moira only did that to Ahriman because he tried to change the weave. You will only look at it. She will only send you back if she discovers you," Coney said after letting go of Ahriman's leg.

Blake cocked an eyebrow at Ahriman who chuckled. "I didn't like what she had woven so I decided to improve it! Well, I tried. Turned out, I'm no weaver."

Blake groaned and rubbed his temples," no wonder she slapped you."

"Now, now. Coney do you have the thing?"

"Of course!" Coney huffed and puffed up in concentration. In an array of small lights, a bag fell out.

"I have no idea how a little rabbit was able to ground the powder but..." Ahriman muttered as he grabbed onto it. "You will need to pour it onto your eyes, a fair warning though. It hurts like hell."

"What's in it?" Blake asked and reached for the bag.

"It's better not knowing," Coney said solemnly.

"Let's see, tears of a widow, breath of a baby, the blood of a spirit, sperm of a god-" Ahriman said while counting on his fingers.

"What? Blood... Coney did you- Hold on! Sperm?! Whose? From a god? Ahriman is this yours!" said Blake. He felt like he received a heart attack and almost dropped the bag.

"I'm not affirming or denying anything."

"Damnit, Ahriman. I am not pouring this shit into my eyes!"

"Then you won't receive the Sight of Moirai," Ahriman shrugged and Blake cursed under his breath before pouring the hellish powder into his eyes with trembling hands.

Blake let out a scream when he felt a searing pain on his eyeballs. "Fuck me!"

"I rather not," Ahriman said amusingly.

"Not funny! Goddamnit, this hurt."

"I told you it would."

"Damnit, do I even have eyes left. I cannot see anything. I swear it's your sperm doing this!"

"It will pass soon, Blake. Be strong!" Coney's voice echoed. Blake could not see the little rabbit but felt his paw against his leg comforting him while he desperately tried to regain his sight. He will kill them if it turns out the damn powder robbed him of his sight.

Just as his thoughts calmed down, the sight returned. But much to his surprise, he was also able to see other things.

Threads, they flashed for a while like silver strings before vanishing.

"Can I already see the Tapestry of Fate?" Blake said hopefully as he did not want to enter the Realm of Moira.

"No, what you see is the Threads of Fate which Moira weave the Tapestry with. You should see a thread coming out of Coney. It's his life, his thread which Moira then weaves his fate," Ahriman explained and Blake merely nodded as he observed the threads.

"Our's are intertwined," Blake suddenly said.

"Excuse me?" said Ahriman.

"Our two threads are intertwined. Almost like they are the same."

"That tends to happen when two fates are shared. Since I tend to be with you for a long time then it's only natural what happens to you will also occur to me," Ahriman explained casually while he helped Coney draw symbols on the ground. "Are you ready little rabbit?"

Coney huffed before looking at Blake with his cute little eyes. "Don't worry about me, Blake. I will be fine. See you later!"

Blake was just about to ask what he meant when Ahriman pulled out a dagger from god knows where and stabbed the little rabbit without remorse.

"What are you doing?"

"Sacrifice. In order to send you to the Realm of Moira, a spirit need to be sacrificed," Ahriman muttered as he watched the circle lit up. He nodded in contentment before turning to Blake who looked furious. Ahriman rolled his eyes.

"This was Coney's idea. He is fine, he just needs to rest up in the Realm of Spirits. Then you can summon the skipping little vermin again."

"You are making it a habit of killing Coney."

"You noticed!"

Blake was just about to retort when Ahriman grabbed onto him, apparently tired of the hesitation, and threw him into the circle. In an array of light, Blake's soul was ripped out from his body and pushed towards the stars.