A/N: This chapter is a bit peculiar and contains some foreshadowing. It also shows us a different point of view. For those who are not familiarized with the "Fates", they are three mythological sisters that oversee the fates that befall each human being. They are also acquainted with the Grim Reaper Dispatch and the Reapers who are "always busy with work".
The Fates are three, each associated with one phase of our life. Clothos is the youngest, Lachesis is the middle one and Atropos is the eldest. They have plenty of sisters and brothers, one of them being the secretive Hecate, the Goddess of Magic and other things xD. Their clothes are Ancient-Greek inspired: there is the himation (a sort of a cloak that is worn over the tunic) and peplos, a tunic that was the standard outfit for women).
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Kuroshitsuji, Sinbad or the mythological characters that appear here. Though, their role in this story and personality is solely my creation.
In a different plane of reality, three female figures watched over the pair of young witches through a basin full of water. Their Souls were glowing bright, the closeness creating a special melody that could only be heard by certain beings.
"The new Soulkeeper...is so young. Too young," the first commented softly. She was the youngest-looking of the trio and her himation was pale pink. Her hands were spinning a golden thread from a distaff onto a spindle.
"Younger than those of the last millennia," the second agreed, her fingers holding a rod that measured the spun thread's length. She was wearing a deep green peplos. "However, no Soulkeeper has met their Soulmate."
"Just for a curt time," the first finished, her blue eyes mournful.
"The Fate of this one's Soulmate has been decided. Less than one year remains," the third warned, arms folded over her chest. Her voice was akin to an old woman's. A pair of golden shears floated at her side. Clad in a long tunic whose colour could be confused with black, she was the only one wearing a dark hood that hid half of her face. "It is unprecedented." Her eyes narrowed under the hood. "An Aura Seer as a Soulkeeper? What was our sister thinking?"
"She must have her reasons, Atropos," the first said to the other in a placating tone. "I can sense this young human means her thanks to us. She is...how do humans say...ah, one of a kind."
"She is not only a future Soulkeeper," declared an imperious voice from behind the trio, surprising them. It belonged to a woman with brown hair and white tips. She was in her twenties and wore a deep red robe. A pair of snakes was curling around her arms, giving the impression of long bracelets. She also had a tiara with a crescent moon. "Hello, Sisters of mine."
"Hecate," Lachesis addressed curtly as their sister joined them, a burning torch floating by her side. "For one thousand years, you have been keeping something from us concerning this human's bloodline...something that not even Apollo could himself discern. Only that Priestess of yours' progeny is aware."
"Why? As Fates, we must know," Atropos said while sending an accusing look at the solemn Hecate. "An Aura Seer cannot be a Soulkeeper; the length of their lifespans is exactly the opposite from the other."
"This one is a special case, for she is of the same blood as her champion," Hecate explained vaguely, despite the stronger inflexion when she said "her" making the trio exchange a grim nod amongst themselves. "Amintha's granddaughter Electra Tranquilflow foresaw a second outcome to that prophecy, should the Heiress fail in her Soulkeeper duties. And of course, there is Arista's last dream before she joined her predecessors in the Elysian Fields." Her voice became deeper and, for a brief moment, the flames surrounding the basin flickered due to her Elemental Magic. "Both are tremendously unsettling. The balance shall be lost."
The Fates' posture straightened instantly, the eldest being the first to open her mouth, dark eyes boring into her fellow goddess, "Explain," she ordered.
Hecate nodded. "Arista's adoptive daughter dream-walked and she saw the Heiress and the Heir united, the former wielding the wand that no human should possess as she casts the Heir's Mark in the sky. The wand that is currently with Eris' former champion."
"What did you say?" Asked a frightened Clotho, eyes looking left and right to her sisters. "Eris' former champion? But isn't he Gellert Grindelwald, the one who met the Soulkeeper years ago in St Blasien?"
"Oh yes, the one whose wand wood comes from the Underworld itself and that was..." Atropos's eyes flashed with anger. "...stolen by Eris who had the galls to masquerade herself as the Chief Grim Reaper and give it to the eldest Peverell brother. Zeus himself had to intervene and she was temporarily forbidden from going to the human world."
"She did not seem much worried about that though; her children were all too pleased to do her bidding," Clotho remarked sadly. "Too many Souls lost their bodies and too many became eternal damned beings..."
"But why did she change her champion again?" Asked the half-exasperated Lachesis, naming some of their insufferable sibling's champions with her fingers. "Herpo, Salazar Slytherin, Zelena Greengrass, Antioch Peverell, Icarus Black, Louis Lestrange, Beatrice Bennet, Licorus Black, Mallory Malfoy, Ivan Dolohov, Grigori Rasputin, Richard Rosefield and finally, Gellert Grindelwald. The number of Soulkeepers needed to avoid her so-loved 'Glorious Chaos' was enormous." She turned to Hecate. "And I am just referring to the humans who learned magic. If we want to add in supernatural beings and other humans, our fingers would not be enough to count."
"Yes, indeed," Hecate said, waving her hand. The images on the water basin no longer showed the two Soulmates but the Soulkeeper and a second person: a dark-haired boy with cold dark brown eyes. "They share the same Ancestor, but a different Ancestress. Born on the same day, yet at a different hour, this boy is Eris' new champion," she informed, her lips pursing into a thin line. "According to Electra's dream, he aims to forever rule the world of magic and the mundane by using the Elder Wand and splitting continuously his Soul. His yew wand shall be forsaken for power. A new power."
"The Heir of Salazar Slytherin," Lachesis breathed, glancing at the silent Atropos. "Is there any way to prevent it? A Soulmate dying like this has never happened before; Herpo split the Soul by committing fratricide."
"You know as well as I that we are forbidden of interfering in a human's Fate, Lachesis. It goes against our very nature," the last Moirae argued quietly. "This Soulkeeper will walk the same path of Eris's champion."
Lachesis nodded. "Or the path that will allow her to meet the Lost Child again."
"But only if she willingly parts with something important to her twice," Clotho concluded. "And she has to do it for love."
"It is her choice alone," Hecate supplied before letting out a tired sigh. "The current state of affairs of the human realm is already bordering on Chaos. If the Heir succeeds, we will never hear the end of this from our sister. I can perfectly imagine that smug smile of hers before she says the two words she is so fond of."
"Glorious Chaos," the trio chorused, Atropos' tone being clearly sardonic.
"More like 'Eternal Chaos'," Lachesis muttered, gripping the thread that was in her hands in clear distaste for the scenario that had just flashed through their heads. "The Underworld will overflow with Souls."
"Hades himself would be forced to share some of his Souls with the Grim Reapers," Atropos mused, twirling her Shears absently. "The many branches of the Grim Reaper Dispatch would forever bother us with their complaints about the 'huge workload', like that obnoxious Reaper, Knox." Annoyance took over her calm features for a split second. "All thanks to our sister, of course."
"Speaking of which, where is she at now?" Clotho asked Hecate, who waved her hand again. The image was replaced by a place called "Vauxhall Road" and then, a building with the sign "Pomum Aurantium: Books and Writing Supplies". On its showcase, literary fiction, epics, plays and translated works had been put on display. The number "114" could be seen engraved on the left side of the name of the shop.
"This is as far as I can show you, I am afraid," Hecate clarified to the Fates. "To the common human, it is a run-down building, but for her champion, it is a place he has gone to as a child. He feels compelled to go there sometimes."
It did not take too long for the Goddesses to translate the words. "'Golden Apple'," Atropos said before scoffing. The fruit that had been the beginning of everything. "How appropriate of her."
"This time, it will not be like Troy, burnt to ashes because of a human whose beauty rivalled Aphrodite's," Hecate interjected carefully. "Eris' champion has her cunning. Even the most inoffensive object can become a weapon...if one desires such thing."
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