Let's check in at the Cave, and maybe witness a confrontation between two of the Fates...
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Scene 8: Intentions
2020 B.C.
This was no accident. She wished it were, so that her heart right now weren't swelling with distrust — even a sentiment that bordered on disgust — toward her sister. But she knew it was no accident, no mere coincidence that had caused her to cross paths with Chrysaor. This twist of fate had been intentional, Clotho was sure. And her soul was now full of suspicion and doubt, after what he had told her.
It was one thing to feel blindsided by the force of fate, as mortals surely often were; to feel betrayed by fate, by one's own sister, was another.
Returning to the Cave, this time, she looked upon the Loom and saw Chrysaor's thread laid next to hers. No doubt Lachesis had set this connection in motion during the Fates' most recent visit to this place. Clotho hadn't even detected it then, since it was just a simple intersection, easily neglected — her thread and his weren't closely intertwined or anything like that. At least not yet.
Had she seen this familiar thread fated to cross with hers, she would of course have recognized it; but the intersection was so subtly arranged, smoothly mixed in with all the other souls Clotho had met the previous day, that she hadn't even noticed.
This subtlety, the carefulness with which the meeting had been orchestrated, was the reason she knew it was the handiwork of Lachesis. What she did not know was just why her sister had done this. Somehow she sensed that her intentions weren't good. Not in the slightest.
And now that the sisters were back in the Cave, the weaver of fate had to answer for this. Whether or not her answer would be honest.
Clotho rose and strode across the shadowed space, her pace as vigorous as the ire written all across her face. "What are you doing?"
Wide blue eyes blinked as if they had a right to be surprised. "I..."
"Don't say you don't know what I mean. No more lies."
Lachesis took a long pause before she replied, fighting against her instant reflex to deny. "Do — do you mean your crossing paths with Chrysaor?"
Affirmation came in the form of an impatient, steady stare.
"I... set your two threads on a path toward each other..."
The chestnut stare narrowed and sharpened. "I can see that. And on earth? How did you manage to make that work?"
Lachesis swallowed, pale gaze lowered, soft voice guiltless as she answered. "I just... told him where you were."
Clotho had no patience for these pretenses of innocence. Nothing about this made sense. She shook her head, unable to fathom the reasons. "But why, and how — how could you even tell him such a thing? How did you claim knowledge of my whereabouts? Did you reveal that you and I know each other, that we're sisters — that we are the Fates, for gods' sakes?"
"No, no of course not," Lachesis insisted, shuddering in defensive distress at the thought. "I know that it would be unwise to disclose our true identities, our immortality, to men on earth. I simply told Chrysaor that I have a certain... gift of sight. That although I am a mere mortal, truths sometimes reveal themselves to me in dreams."
So there were multiple layers of lies, behind the weaver's schemes. Clotho started to fear now that her sister's motives might be even worse than they had seemed. "Why would you tell him such a lie?"
Lachesis shook her head, in a refusal of wrongdoing and a plea for mercy. "Clotho, please don't be upset with me..."
"I'll reserve judgment till I've heard the rest of this twisted story."
The middle Fate turned toward the eldest then, who sat across the Cave, a fair distance away from them and yet well within earshot of their every word. Atropos and Chaos both were audience to this confrontation, the heated pitch of it too high to go unheard. Her silent gaze begged for support from either of them, earning it from neither. They knew nothing of what she'd done; even if they wanted to, they had no way of helping or defending her.
Nevertheless, she wished they would. Why couldn't they all just trust that her intentions were good?
They were good. This she knew, because she had convinced herself that it was true; now she just had to convince her sister, too. So she summoned the courage, what little she could, to meet Clotho's stare and continued. "I know Chrysaor to be a good man, and he very clearly cares for you; I thought it would make a fine match, if I coupled you two..."
Clotho raised her brows over her dark gaze, appalled and ablaze. "You tried to use your powers on me — another Fate, your own sister?"
"I'd just thought that if the two of you crossed paths again..."
"Do you even know the extent of your power?" her sister inquired. "Have you ever even tried to understand it, to realize its limits? You think that just by placing threads together or apart, you can control how people feel? That you have power over forces of the heart?"
Lachesis blinked. "I didn't know, I — I didn't think..."
"But you had hoped. That's what you wanted. Isn't it."
It had not been a question. Even so, she shook her head, as if to clear away the thoughts that her sister had already read.
"Well, let me tell you this, for whatever it's worth: my heart is no different," Clotho declared. "No different from the night when last we spoke on earth. I trusted that you knew nothing of how I felt, at first. For if you knew, I didn't think that you could choose to..."
"Clotho, I didn't know..." Lachesis convinced herself that it was true.
"Even if I were to believe you, that you didn't then — now you do."
"But you chose to leave him, didn't you...?"
"I did, which is why I don't blame you for marrying him. In spite of everything. It was your choice to make, if you so wished. Even if I would never have done the same, had I been in your place, for that I don't hold you to blame," Clotho granted. "But then you chose to stay, Lachesis. Without a care as to your husband's health or happiness. And you chose to lie."
"To lie? You mean to Chrysaor, about my—"
"I mean to me. About Rider. Telling me that he has been happy."
"Why do you think that was a lie?" Lachesis asked, eyes wide in a show of deluded sincerity. "He seems happy enough, with me..."
"Chrysaor told me otherwise," Clotho stated bluntly. "If your plan was to force the two of us together, I will have you know that it failed. He came to tell me how unhappy and unwell Rider has been. And urged me to return with him on the next ship set to sail."
What? Why on earth would Chrysaor do that? Lachesis inwardly asked. Wasn't he fond of Clotho — didn't he want her for himself? And if so, why and how could he set out now to return her to his friend...? She simply could not comprehend. This was not what she had intended...
Clotho went on. "Apparently Rider is out to kill. Set on a dark, dangerous path leading him straight to hell."
Lachesis shook her head again. "I... I didn't know that he's been so unwell. He has been kind to me, even if to no one else lately..."
"Kindness toward his own wife, likely from a place of mercy, does not mean that he is happy," Clotho asserted. "Chrysaor knows him well. Certainly better than you do. He wouldn't urge me to return were it not in his friend's best interests."
The weaver was unsure how to refute that. Instead of trying to, she opted to speak in a tone that she hoped would appeal to her sister's sense of family loyalty, or at least elicit pity. "So you believe him, trust him, more than me?"
"I guess we'll see," Clotho supposed before turning to leave, "which of you deserves to be believed. Tomorrow I plan to accompany Chrysaor to the mainland, to rejoin Rider and his band. Where your path and mine, dear sister, just might cross a second time. And if you try to use your powers to derail what I have planned — know that I will never forgive you, never make the mistake of trusting you again."
So Lachesis knew. Assured herself for the millionth time that, no matter what her sister said, her intentions were good — but this time, she could not convince herself that it was true.
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... Any reactions? Thoughts as to what's going to happen? o_o
Next scene, we'll check in with #Axria in modern-day Greece...
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