Chapter 18

Cave of the Moirai, Olympus, 567 A.D.

Whispers erupted in the flickering torchlight as Daphne rounded the corner. Inside, three figures perched on marble stone slabs around a boiling cauldron.

"I told you she would come. Did I not?"

"Yes, yes. We all knew she would. It was the when which was questionable."

"I cannot recall the color of her thread."

"It was clear. I remember."

"Are you sure it was not red? I am thinking red."

"No, no. It was black. Misery and twists and twists and twists—"

Daphne cleared her throat, and the three Fates silenced themselves and turned to her, blinking in unison. Apollo had left her behind while he traipsed throughout the mortal world, enlightening mortals to art and music. Finally allowed freedom to roam about Olympus on her own, she embarked on a search for Hermes. When that failed, she began exploring and meeting the inhabitants throughout.

Which was how she found herself inside the cave of the Moirai. Three women dressed in white robes, in a cave, talking about threads; had to be who they were. Although, they didn't seem to be ghastly, old, blind women as the tales claimed, but beautiful women with creamy pale skin from the lack of sunlight.

"Apologies for interrupting. I was roaming and did not realize this cave was inhabited." She turned to go.

"Do not leave!'

"Please stay."

"We have been expecting you."

Daphne didn't know what to say. It would probably be considered rude to deny the Fates any request. Were they talking about my destiny being miserable and twisting? The woman in the middle wrapped a silver, sparkling thread around a thick staff. The thread originated from a spindle held by the woman on the left.

"I do not wish to be a bother," she said, afraid maybe they were merely being courteous.

The woman on the right smoothed a hand through her white hair as though to strengthen her appearance. She stood and glided to where Daphne lingered and took her hands. "Do not rush off. We rarely receive visitors on the Olympus side. Mortals." She waved her hand dramatically over her shoulder. "All the time they come to us, demanding this, bargaining for that. I am Atropos. Clotho is my sister over there." She pointed to the fiery-haired sister on the left. "In the middle is Lachesis."

"I am Daphne."

"The nymph, we know," Lachesis commented.

"Apollo tampered with your destiny," Clotho added.

"We were displeased. Zeus won't permit me to cut him." Atropos' voice was soft and high like a child's though she appeared, like the others, to be in her prime.

"Cut him?"

"His string." Clotho smiled. "What did you think she meant?"

All three giggled.

Atropos pulled Daphne toward a long slab sitting across from them with the cauldron in the middle. Bubbles formed and popped at the surface of the acrid fluid, steam rising.

"Speak with us," said Atropos as she hurried back to her seat.

"We have only time." Lachesis glanced up from her twining the string around the staff. It had been silver and shiny moments before, but had darkened to black.

"Time is all we have." Clotho smiled warmly, her eyes dark but warm. Inviting.

Daphne sat, clasping her hands together in her lap. "I must say, you were not how I anticipated."

"You expected old crones?" Clotho nodded.

"They all do." Lachesis began twisting faster and faster, pulling hard on the string. Clotho had to grasp the spindle with both hands.

"We never wish to disappoint." Atropos retrieved a sphere of clear crystal from a rocky shelf beside her, and the moment she did, her entire figure changed. Where before she had been young, with smooth white-blonde tresses and gray eyes, a crone peered at her with glossy cataracts of a blind woman with thinning hair. Daphne squeaked in surprise, which provoked Atropos to toss back her grizzled head and cackle.

"She loves to do that," Clotho told her.

"It is a fine trick."

Atropos brandished her orb in one hand and a sharpened device in her other that was composed of two crystal blade-like structures connected in the middle. She leaned closer to Lachesis, who tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder and gave the thread a final twist. She pulled the string taut from Clotho's spindle and nodded to Atropos.

"Not a trick, but fate. Fate is no trick. Never clear, never fear, you just cannot pick." Atropos sliced through the darkened string, which swung limply next to Lachesis' staff as it fell free of the spindle. Lachesis began to unwind it, creating a pile of thread at her feet.

Chills ran over her body. How unfazed Atropos was when she'd made the cut. Then again, she did so all the time. That had been someone's life being written. Predestined. Why had the thread turned dark?

Clotho set her spindle on a slab beside her. Another crystal sphere sat upon it. She picked it up and her beauty faded like Atropos' had. Her teeth spaced apart and yellowed. Warts protruded upon her flesh. "So sad. So very sad." She stared into the orb and shook her frail head.

"So many years." Lachesis continued to unwind the thread. "A turn for a year. Black from anguish. Black from tears."

Atropos wiped a lone teardrop from her cheek. "The first time we wove his string he'd lived a life of triumph. Gods tamper with fate, corrupt our work."

Starting to feel like she'd interrupted a private moment, Daphne rose to her feet. "It looks like you are busy..."

"We are finished." Lachesis had half her string unwound, spinning the staff and pulling it loose. Unraveling the life they'd cut moments before. The pile on the ground was quite large.

"You are not." Clotho nodded. "Finished that is. Sit down." She did as she was told.

"We awaited your visit," said Atropos.

They were the Fates, of course they'd foresee her visit. However, the logic did nothing to quell the terror slowly mounting within her gut. Her gaze returned to the pile of string. Her vision swam. She placed a palm against her forehead to steady herself. "Whose life is that?"

She didn't want to know. She didn't want the answer. A life of triumph corrupted by the gods. Please don't be—

"Ariston of Thespiae."

"Brother to Adonis."

"Satyros."

She expelled the breath she was holding. Almost certain they would say Melancton's name, her body nearly shut down. While she didn't wish Ariston any harm, she barely knew him. Only knew his name from rumors she'd heard of Aphrodite's former lover. Daphne remembered the twins from the night of the curse, but Ariston didn't have a connection to her, and as far as she knew, he'd not been part of Melancton's life either.

Yet curiosity could not be denied, and she voiced her earlier contemplation. "Why did the string turn dark?"

"It was not supposed to," Clotho said sadly.

"He was cursed, fate changed," Lachesis added. "Some curses we foresee, others happen on a whim."

Atropos sighed. "Gods and curses cheat the Fates, but only for so long."

"Everything ends."

"Nothing indefinite."

"All will meet the inevitable." Atropos made a snipping motion with her sheers.

Cryptic and creepy, Daphne wanted to leave. "Why did you say it was important for me to know about Ariston?"

Clotho wandered over and took a seat next to Daphne. She held out the sphere so Daphne could see. "This is a crystalline orb. We three each have one of our own. Though, when we leave Olympus, we only take one and share it among us as a single all-seeing-eye." She leaned in and whispered, "That is important. Keep it stored."

Daphne could only nod even though she was horribly confused.

Oblivious, Clotho continued, "The orbs show truth of fate for any being at any time. We are able to watch them from birth until death. We also see moments of importance. Moments in which the path of destiny could be altered, should someone have enough forewarning."

"Delicate," Lachesis mumbled. "Delicate. Delicate. A single slip can lead to destruction."

"Are you saying you want me to alter Ariston's fate?" Daphne asked Clotho, and then glanced at the others.

Atropos cackled again. "I like this one. She believes in free will."

"We are not asking," Clotho said softly, her warty nose inches from her face.

"We are demanding," Lachesis freed the final twists of string and gathered up the bundle. She could barely hold the whole heap in her arms before she chucked it into the boiling cauldron. It hissed and steamed black smoke.

"This is not the fate we gave him," Atropos set her orb down and her beauty and youth returned. "We could foresee Dionysus cursing Pan, but something went wrong."

Daphne rubbed her palms over her knees. "Pan's attempt to counter the curse. It disrupted fate."

"His powers are unpredictable, even for us. We did not foresee it. Nonetheless, he did not grant immortality to twenty-three mortals. The changes would be few as opposed to the vastness elongated life provides."

"Apollo did." Daphne confirmed.

When Atropos spoke next, she did so in a hushed voice, as if she worried to be overheard. "Changed fate takes time to see to the end, which is why we have yet to finish cutting the threads for the Satyroi a second time. We are observing what shall happen should we not interfere, and we find it changes the fate of many."

"Including a Satyros known as Melancton."

Daphne's head whipped around and she gawked at Clotho. "What happens to Melancton?"

Clotho shrugged. "Misery. Heartbreak. Loss. Violent end."

"His string was saturated in red," Lachesis whispered. "A life soaked in blood."

"A death in blood." Atropos shuddered.

"You are aware you still have to breathe even though you are immortal?" Clotho pounded on Daphne's back and she struggled for air without gaining any.

"He cannot die. No! No!"

"He will. And Ariston. And Adonis. And Pan."

"No!"

"And the others, so many others. Death surrounds the Satyroi."

"Are you really attempting to argue with Fate?" Clotho arched a bushy gray brow.

"She must return," Lachesis said suddenly. Daphne turned toward her. The Fate had retrieved an orb and was no longer the dark-haired beauty she once was, but a hunched over woman with gnarled hands. "Apollo comes. Should he find her with us, she will not set forth on the task we require."

Clotho set down her orb and pulled Daphne to her feet as her features transformed. "Hurry, you must go. Return when next he leaves Olympus. If you do not, fate remains untouched."

"How do I change fate?"

"Seek it."

"Find the cause."

"Make him believe."

She shook her head. "And it will save them, the Satyroi, from death?"

Atropos appeared weary at her words. "My dear, death is inevitable. It comes to all who live. One should never fuss about when it will occur, but do all they can to make the most out of the time they are given."

With those words, Daphne was shoved toward the mouth of the cave, and from there, she ran for Apollo's temple. By pure luck, she made it before he did.

Days passed, the number lost in the endless trials of living as Apollo's captive. When he finally returned to the mortal world, Daphne did not hesitate to return to the cave. Only, the Fates were not there. Even the cauldron had been removed.

A torch remained lit, however, and the flame reflected off the surface of a crystalline orb in the far left corner. Clotho's. She'd told Daphne they leave two behind when they were in the mortal world, and she'd left it in the open. "Seek it." She'd said. "Find the cause," Lachesis had added. Who did Atropos want Daphne to have believe...and believe what?

Ariston. They said it began with Ariston. Somewhere down the line, Ariston's fate changed for the worse and Melancton, Pan, and others would suffer from it. Melancton would die. Violently. Which Daphne could never allow if she had anything to do with it. She snatched up the orb, half expecting to turn into an old woman, but her hands stayed the same. Must be some strange magic unique to the Fates.

"Show me Ariston's destiny," she told the orb.

At first nothing happened, but then a light began to glow from within. A spectrum of colors burst apart in the middle revealing Ariston as he chased a female with dark hair plaited down her back. He was nude. His long blond hair was dusted with leaves and his ebony ram horns were slick and shiny from rain. He captured a woman dressed in strange clothing. She attempted to flee again, but slipped, losing consciousness.

The colors blurred, and Melancton appeared. Daphne's heart skipped a beat, and she pulled the orb closer. She hadn’t seen him in so long, and to have him displayed before her was a balm to her heart. Ariston stood tall between the nymph and Melancton, and then a fight broke out. Melancton, holding his hands in front of him, attempted to placate Ariston. When it didn't work, they fought like dogs. Melancton to be free of it. Ariston, defending the female watching them with fear in her eyes.

The scene changed again, and Ariston stared at the sky. The moon was massive and full. A shadow at the edge displayed the beginnings of the Satyr Moon. The girl appeared, removing her clothing.

She's a nymph! Ariston is going to break the curse! Daphne smiled, pleased the one request of hers Apollo actually honored would see someone free of the curse which had changed their lives forever. Ariston paused and glanced behind him at a wooden structure obscured by darkness. A hut of some kind. He went inside, and Adonis struck him unconscious.

When Ariston returned for his nymph, she lay in a crumpled heap, weeping, naked. The sight of Ariston sent her into a panic. She screamed and attempted to crawl away. Adonis lingered in the shadows of the trees, human.

A knot formed in Daphne's stomach as the implications became clear. Adonis had posed as Ariston to break his curse. Ariston realized this as well and attacked. He killed his brother with his bare hands. Daphne held a hand over her mouth and gagged at the carnage. She returned the orb to the place she found it, and attempted to digest what she'd seen. Her hands were shaking and she felt sick.

It hasn't happened. You can change it. Ariston would be spared the horrors she had seen. Although she didn't know him personally, she could not live with herself if she allowed what was fated to happen. Not just to him, but the poor nymph. She'd been terrified! Had she known, when it happened—had she known it wasn't Ariston?

She shuddered. How could Adonis do such a thing? And then the answer became clear: Dionysus. Both Adonis and Melancton had been there, and two Boeotians in the same area either meant they were working together, though Melancton would have never allowed what had transpired to occur, or Dionysus had something to do with it.

The Fates had claimed by helping Ariston, it affected Melancton, Adonis, Pan and others. Could what she did prevent Adonis from making a decision that was both deplorable and end in death? The issue they'd had wasn't so much in how the Satyroi died, but that they'd not had a hand in causing it to happen.

And they knew Daphne would be kind-hearted enough to fall into their scheme to change it. She could only hope she didn't make matters worse, and she would really help them onto a better path.

First thing she needed to do was find a way out of Olympus long enough to speak with Ariston. The factor that changed things was Melancton. He had to trust Melancton. If Ariston hadn't fought with Melancton when they ran into each other, would Melancton have stayed behind to control Adonis? Only time would tell.

It wasn't until she returned to Apollo's temple and the Olympian strutted in, yelling at her when she rejected him again, that she realized she'd never looked or asked once about what would happen to her.