Chapter Text
The Fates and Khaos
Part 1
“Foolish.” Clotho (The Spinner) hissed.
“Selfish.” Lachesis (The Allotter) continued.
“Unworthy.” Atropos (The Cutter) finished.
The three fates of a corrupted pantheon observed their tapestry with heavy eyes. So much pain, and loss and sorrow drained the once beautiful work of almost all color. All that remained was shades of gray.
Through time, the fates had to watch once vibrant powerful young gods age and become bitter and paranoid. The thirst for power crept in. The paranoia of plots from their own family creeping like a sickness through their minds. The once loving bond of family becoming both a leash, and a punishment.
Time after time the fates watched bright, brilliant little lights, that they knew as demigods, come screaming into the world, only to watch them dim and flicker under the weight of expectation, abandonment, and loss of hope.
A vicious cycle had been created since the beginning of the young world. Uranus, who mistreated his children out of fear of their power was castrated and overthrown by his son Kronos at the behest of his mother Gaia. Kronos in his own fear of a later prophecy ate his own children to prevent it in his paranoia. Only later his wife Rhea tricked him into eating a rock instead of his youngest son Zeus. Once Kronos was tricked by Zeus into disgorging his other siblings, the gods cut him into thousands of pieces and scattered his remains in Tartarus.
Now once again the fates watched. They watched as Zeus, his siblings, and children repeated the cycle.
Demigods had been meant to be loved and cherished. They would have been loyal and powerful allies for their parents that would have kept the pantheon strong and prospering for the rest of time.
Instead the bitter ache within the demigods grew and worsened with each generation. And the gods didn’t care. They kept on living selfish and ignorant lives that excluded their mortal children. The wounds of abandonment began to fester. The hunger for recognition and love grew into an unwavering anger and hatred that would never heal.
Generation after generation of demigods would rise and fall, each passing their story and the empty truth of their parentage to the next.
The fates while not happy with this outcome and dreading the fade of their tapestries colors, could not interfere. They were bound by the laws of their mother Khaos. As long as the tapestry was not at threat of ending early, then they must be observers and impartial to the free will of their charges.
So Clotho would spin the yarn, twining the threads combining brilliant raw colors.
Lachesis would allot the yarn, fitting each strand into its rightful place in the tapestry.
And Atropos would measure the yarn to it’s complete length before cutting it from the tapestry.
It was a process as old as time itself and while the fates may have felt the occasional fondness for their charges, they had never allowed themselves to become attached.
Until now.
Until within Clotho’s hands formed a new thread. A brilliant, vibrant swirl of greens and blues that radiated light and love. While the thread captivated them with its color, it was the abundant array of gold threads woven throughout the blues and greens that truly caught their attention.
A demigod with the strands of ascension already woven through their thread. A girl that would be born with more ichor than blood in their veins. One who would be riddled with prophecy and unable to escape the impossible weight that would be placed upon her shoulders.
The sisters watched the thread with awe filled eyes. It was beautiful in more than just its colors. This girl, a princess, Daughter of Poseidon, Storm Bringer, Earth Shaker, Father of Horses and the willfully strong mortal Sally Jackson was impossibly kind.
Kind. Loyal. Loving.
She would grow, drawing in the love, trust, and loyalty of her fellow demigods. She would be a general. A sister. A friend. And a Saviour too many times over.
She would be called a monster. Blamed. Beaten. Sacrificed.
She would suffer as no child ever should.
A child is the one thing she would never get to be.
The fates watched the thread, beings aching each time she suffered another blow, physical or emotional. They longed to pull her thread and give her the world. They wanted to take her away from the selfish, ignorant, fools of her universe.
And unknown to the sisters, Khaos watched.
Khaos had stirred at the all consuming ache that resonated from her three favored daughters. The three fates that spun the tapestries of each world in every universe.
Her daughters had always been firm in their duties. They grew fond of their charges, yes, but never have they gotten attached. So what had caused such a painful ache to reached Khaos from the abyss? What had captured her daughters in such and emotionally damaging way?
Khaos watched them silently, as she always had, and observed the cause of their upset.
Clotho held a thread so gently it was like she was cradling a newborn babe in her hands. She tended the spinning of this particular thread like a loving mother.
Lachesis guided the same brilliant little blue/green/gold thread into its designed place so delicately it’s like she was afraid to break it. Khaos could see her hesitate when placing the thread at certain points of the tapestry.
Atropos watched the thread carefully, hand shaking as she gripped the scissors. Khaos could tell she did not want this thread to end. Like all things had to end.
She could not bare to watch her babies suffer.
“My darlings, what has upset you so?” Khaos crooned, enveloping the three sisters in her shadows embrace. “What is it about this thread that makes you hesitate?”
All three fates nuzzled into the shadows that made up their mothers being. It was not often that she was awake, and they cherished every moment of it.
“The thread.” Clotho murmured. “The girl holds more weight on her shoulders than any demigod before her. We mourn as she mourns. We laugh as she laughs. We have cried when she has cried.”
Lachesis reached out to hold her sisters hand. “Never have we felt such a connection with our charges. Many have suffered and we have held firm in our resolve. Never have we caved to ease the paths of those we have favored.”
“We have also never favored one such as her before. One who stands tall even when the trials that are thrust upon her erode her very being.” Atropos explained. “Where all have turned bitter and cold, when suffering as she has, she has risen above. She remains strong and kind. Loving and gentle, even as she breaks.”
Khaos feeling the depth of her daughter’s despair for the little demigod girl decided to do what she did best.
Khaos watched.
Khaos stretched her being across the girls thread, merging herself as a passenger in the girls spirit. Each and every moment of the girls life, Khaos was there. From her birth, to finding out she was a demigod, her mothers ‘death’, the death of the demigods she had claimed as family, two wars, overbearing yet negligent gods…
Khaos cried.
Khaos had cried during the creation of everything. And Khaos cried for the birth of her beloved daughters.
And now Khaos, the beginning and end of everything, cried for Gemini Oceana Jackson.
Khaos was both order and mayhem. She watched as each of her creations shaped their own futures based on free will.
Khaos never interfered…
Until today.
Today Khaos would act. For the small girl who accomplished the impossible and asked for nothing in return. For the small girl her daughters had grown adore. For the small girl who Khaos has now claimed among her daughters.
Yes, Khaos thought to herself. Today she would act. She would take her newest, youngest daughter from the world she had saved, and bring her to a world with a family that would love her unconditionally.
But which world? Who would prove worthy for her darling daughter?
A Colosseum lined with hundreds of thrones flashed through her memories and Khaos let a smile slowly twist her lips up. Oh yes. That world would do very nicely.
Gemini would want for nothing, and they would adore her.
The inhabitants of this world were ruthless, possessive, And absolutely loyal to family. Gemini would have the life she never got to have in her own world.
Pulling her three daughter tighter in to her hole, Khaos smiled with a happy sight.
Now to put everything into motion.