"There, that's the best I can do. Do you think anyone will notice?"
"Clotho my dear, it's already been noticed. It's been hanging there in two pieces for months now. Anyway who else looks at the threads?"
Clotho folded her arms stubbornly across her rounded stomach, "Zeus does."
The third sister who had so far remained silent piped up, "But it doesn't matter what 'he' thinks sisters. He can't change anything unless we say he can."
"Who changed things this time? How can you tie the thread today and not yesterday?"
"They did it themselves this time, no outside help at all. I felt it as I slept and so I came straight here. Oh, but it's such a difficult thing to reattatch one of the threads!" Clotho stepped closer to the pattern of coloured threads that were intertwined over a large wooden frame. "Look at all the knots!"
"It's unsightly, no matter what Zeus says, that's what I think!" Lachesis had always liked things to be nice and tidy.
Atropos sighed, "Well don't blame me! I haven't gone near that thread yet. I always do as you ask my dear, I always wait until the time is right."
Lachesis tutted her annoyance, "I know Atropos, I know it's not you. He will keep insisting on getting killed. It's such a pretty thread too, I wish he'd be more careful. I hate it when a thread breaks without our intervention, it's ungrateful, not to mention unsightly!"
"Yes, but don't forget that it isn't him that breaks the thread, too many of the powers seem to want him dead. It's dreadfully rude of them to go behind our backs!"
Clotho gently laid a finger on the thread in question and it shivered under her light touch. "Mmm, beautiful. I love that shade of purple, don't you sisters? And the golden light it gives off - definitely one of my better efforts."
"You didn't think so when you drew it! I remember distinctly you saying how gaudy it was and how you didn't think its owner would come to anything but a bad end."
Clotho laughed, "Well he's done that a few times. Still, it didn't glow like that when I first drew it from my distaff. That is something its done by itself, getting brighter and brighter as the years pass, I can't take credit for the glow. I wonder why it does."
"He's a special soul, one of the rare ones. A true hero. And now that he's been ... well, in the..." Atropos lowered her voice and spoke with awe and some fear in her voice, " ... Light."
The others nodded solemnly; the Light was something outside of even their understanding, the one power in the universe that they could not touch. Their own power lay in their control over the life thread of every mortal that would ever live, and over the threads of the gods. It was a vital role they played, a huge power they weilded, but it did not extend into the Light. Their helplessness over it made them fear it. They watched the purple thread with the unsightly knots in silent contemplation for a few minutes before Atropos finally spoke again.
"He'll be a very old man when I cut his thread, I hope he will have had a good life. On occasion I regret my job sisters. Clotho, for you it's easy, you have a wonderful job. You bring them into the world, you draw forth their thread, and you give them breath. Lachesis, you have to decide. Should this one live a long life, this one die a babe? I do not envy you that, but I would rather have even that job than my own. For the most part I bear it, I even find satisfaction in sending a soul whose time has come, or whose life was wasted and evil to Hades, but sometimes there is a thread that I don't want to cut. I don't want to be the one to send that particular life on its flight to the underworld. It will be that way with Iolaus, his life is filled with light and vitality, he makes me smile, even this thread of his makes me smile."
Atropos was not used to such lengthy speeches, she lapsed into a troubled silence.
"But I gave him a long life, it will be his time when he goes, it will be fair. He'll be ready." Lachesis had let an edge of petulance into her voice; she hated it when anyone questioned her decisions. She took great care over her work.
Atropos pushed her hands into the small of her back and stretched, a knife was hanging at her belt, its edge gleaming in the dim light of the room. She followed the path of Iolaus' thread with her eyes, for most of its length it ran close to another extraordinary thread, another one she did not want to cut. This other thread was tawny in colour, it didn't glow but somehow it accented the purple beside it. She smiled the two threads complemented each other just as their owners complemented each other in life.
"I sometimes wish..." the eldest sister, shook her head, her white hair falling into her eyes, some things were best left unsaid. But her sisters didn't agree.
"Wish what Atro?"
"What do you wish dear? Come on now, you can't tease us like that."
Lachesis smiled as she looked into her sister's eyes, "I think I know. You sometimes wish that you could accidentally forget to cut a particular thread - like that one, with all its knots and its golden glow. But what would happen if you did leave the thread uncut after its time had come?"
Atropos was usually seen as a terrible creature, probably because it was at her hand that a man's life expired. A mortal may deal the blow but death was only assured if Atropos wielded her knife. She usually enjoyed the image, revelled in the power she had over mortals, but she wasn't cold hearted, she cared for the people whose lives were in her hands. Sometimes she found herself caring more than she should.
"I don't know sister. I almost want to try it so that I would know. But I don't think that it would be good. Anyway, this one deserves his time in the..." she looked upwards and gestured with a hand, "... you know... the Light. He'll get his wings then."
"How can you know that?"
Atropos blushed, "Well, you see, I was in the vicinity, near Olympus, it's only across to the left a bit and closer to morning. And ... I thought I'd ... drop in on Michael."
"Sister!"
"No! Really? Really?"
The shocked expressions on her sister's faces made Atropos, the most feared of the Fates, giggle like a teenager. "You should see your faces!" She squealed, suddenly feeling a bit hysterical. She mimicked her sisters shocked voices, " 'Oh no! How could you? Michael!' I bet you want to know what he was like don't you?"
Clotho nodded, her mouth snapping shut as Lachesis put a finger under her chin. She couldn't believe the gall of her sister but she was desperate to know all about Michael.
"Is he yummy?"
Another fit of the giggles hit Atropos, "Yummy? Yummy!"
Clotho was embarrassed and looked down at her shoes, "Well, you know what I mean. Anyway, what did he say about Iolaus? The little dear".
Lachesis snorted, "Who, Iolaus or Michael?"
"Iolaus of course, he's such a sweetie."
"Oooh, she fancies him! I bet that you do too Atro, isn't that why you went to see Michael?"
Atropos chose to ignore the comment and attempting to regain her dignity straightened her back and tried to look superior. It was always difficult for her to do this successfully, as she was the shortest of the three sisters, and somewhat stout.
"Michael told me, in the strictest confidence mind, that Iolaus was certain of returning to his Guardianship, he'll get wings! And Hercules will be a Guardian too, and they can be together for all eternity!"
Atropos got quite excited as she relayed the good news, but her sisters could tell there was more and they waited expectantly.
"Ssshh, don't tell a soul, but he also said..." The excited Fate looked round her to be sure that no one was eavesdropping and lowered her voice so that her sisters had to lean in very close to hear what she said. "Well, he also said, in the strictest confidence of course - he was really very trusting of me - that Iolaus and Hercules would probably be used as the Light's ambassadors on earth. He thought that by the time they had been Guardians for a while and Iolaus had gotten used to his wings - well won't he look grand with wings - the world would be ready for a little more direct intervention. Angels on earth, wouldn't that be nice."
Lachesis, always the practical one, pondered for a moment before asking; "Won't they be all old and crinkly though? Not a good look for angels, or guardians, with or without wings."
There was a smug smile on Atropos' face as she answered, "That's exactly what I said, Michael didn't seem to have thought of it, but he said that he thought it would probably be a good idea if they looked as they had in the prime of life. Lachesis, he even said that you should chose what part of the thread that was for each of them, as you know their threads so well."
Lachesis reached out and placed her fingers gently over the two threads, "Just here. That's their best time, not too young and foolish, not too old to enjoy the freedom of the road and thrive on the adrenaline rush of adventure. Yes, just there. They were something to behold then, before this..." She reached out and touched the last and the most complicated of the knots in the purple thread.
The three sisters went back to contemplating the thread that was benefiting from their extra interest; it's knots and the shimmering golden light it gave off making it stand out clearly from all the other threads on the frame. It really was a beautiful thing.
Atropos suddenly tutted and reached for her knife, a long brown thread that wove through many of the others and had begun to fray at one end was calling her.
"It's time for you, old Scolious. Go to Charon and may your family send you on your way with love and a coin for the ferryman's fee."
The work of the Fates never ended, it was a continuous circle; Clotho creating, Lachesis testing and appraising, Atropos waiting for the final moment and the swift cut of her knife. She always ensured her blade was sharp, it was the only gift she could offer to these mortals under her power. She vowed to herself that when Iolaus' time came it would be a clean cut.
The End
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