Chapter 2: The Children Called Fate

“The Fates guide the person who accepts them and hinder the person who resists them.”

- Cleanthes, (230-299 BCE)

Erebus and Tartarus were not like their siblings. Tartarus may have had a body, but he also was the Underneath; he felt a greater affinity to the area around him more than he did his own body. He was beneath the Earth that Gaia had grown and helped cultivate.

Erebus, though, was a little more complicated than even Tartarus. He was Darkness itself. Some of what made Nyx in her shadowy, wispy form was because of him. But there were parts of the Underworld that felt wholly of his essence.

In their own way, Erebus and Nyx were inseparable in the early days. But after the unity of Gaia and Ouranos, it was apparent that every part of Greece, divine or not, would be changing. With that in mind, Erebus looked at Tartarus’ example. As the Underworld formed, Erebus found his comfort for the land was how it was meant to be as if it were the most natural order of things.

His physical form was once tall and mighty, imposing even amongst these earliest Primordials. He had long, flowing robes; his skin was a deep and husky black, and his hair was inky darkness.

Each day after the coupling of the King and Queen of the immortals, Erebus realized he was visibly fading from the world into which Chaos had brought him, but he was also becoming more part of the world with his very spirit. This was fine by Erebus.

When Nyx brought the night to Gaia and Ouranos’ Realm, she would rest in the darkness of Erebus’ domain. In his realm, he would provide a place where Nyx was protected forever. His part of the Underworld would be a tribute to her.

For Erebus, it was like when they were all new to the world. He caressed her as she slept with tender intentions. In the dead of her night, in his darkness, words from Chaos rang in his mind of a godly King who would be a hero and warrior but also a traveler.

The words were spoken without Chaos being physically present, and not hearing it in his ears, but his mind, Erebus felt the primal emotion called fear for the first time in his existence. Instinctively, Erebus rushed to protect Nyx, for the words felt dangerous to him somehow.

When his grasp reached her, a quick succession of events occurred one right after another. Nyx’s body bulged to expand at her waist before the very blackness of darkness itself expanded around her. Then ... this blackness of her stomach, dress, and Erebus’ touch culminated until they separated into three beings, which sprung from Nyx.

They were miniscule by the standards of Primordials. They could fit into the hands of Erebus if he chose to return to his living, breathing form. However, he could see the light of magically divine purpose within each.

Startled, Nyx awoke both from and to the emergence of the new deities. “What?” Nyx asked, looking from one to another. “Who are you?”

While part of her might have been aware of Erebus’ ethereal form, all of her attention was focused on the remarkable beings before her.

“I am Clothos,” said the first. She was a young girl by appearance, just exiting her adolescence.

“I am Lachesis,” remarked the middle woman, who had the looks of a female between adolescence and a crone.

“And I am Atropos,” answered the last. She was the eldest by appearance with wispy gray hair on her head.

“We are the Sisters of Fate,” they said together. “We have come to bring order to the cosmos and help many discover their destiny.”

Erebus blanched in confusion in his observation. Nyx clutched her dress, unaware that her brother held her in his arms of darkness.

For her part, Nyx was both excited and afraid as to what that meant. The back of her neck tingled in anticipation.

“Our destinies?” Nyx wondered, imploring her children. “What order are you talking about?”

“Mother,” said Lachesis. “You need not worry. We are of no danger to you. We have our own tasks in these lands, even as you and your siblings have yours.”

While she heard her daughter, Mother Night was still lost. She focused on what had passed rather than what was occurring right before her.

“How did you come to be?” Nyx asked.

The youngest looking of the sisters smiled at her Mother with reassurance in her eyes. “Chaos has given the First Prophecy, and it is for us, as the Fates, to determine how to weave the past with the present into the future.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Nyx said joyfully. While her children’s birth was unconventional, Nyx’s love for them was still every bit as maternal as Gaia’s love for her children. As such, it was unending.

“But daunting, Mother Night,” the eldest remarked. “It is we who shall see the lands of Greece have an order, and our magic will weave a fabric of destiny for all beings. Kingdoms shall rise and fall by our very wish. We will look into the hearts of all and see their demise.”

“Demise?” Nyx inquired. While the mind of a Primordial was prodigious, she could not be sure of its meaning. “Surely, that cannot mean this will all end.”

“Even the darkest shadow must give way to light, Mother,” Atropos said with the wisdom unbound by time. “But you shall come to know that. Well, at least, I think you should. The future is so hazy.”

While the words did not scare her, The Primordial of Night tried to accept the gift of insight her daughters offered. In the end, Nyx could only stare at her children’s strange behavior.

If Ouranos were older or had been given more time, he would have been shocked by the story of the Fates’ arrival. Thankfully, their arrival had been timed just right for his temperament.

He recognized that they were an incredible addition to his dominion. The Sisters could offer him counsel if their gifts were as abundant as they seemed. They explained that children from his union with Gaia came from more than just her body.

Exploring his Realm, he found Nyx’s children were correct. When he and Gaia had made love and conceived the Hecatoncheires as well as the land, other beings had been brought into the world. The Last Primordial found three one-eyed beings roaming the lands.

Similar to his immense might, they reflected the aspects of an angry thunderstorm. Truth be told, he was impressed. He watched over them, deciding what to do. They were nothing like the Titans that the Progenitor promised, which brought forth irritation.

Still, since his wife had named the Hecatoncheires, he only thought it fair to give the same honor to his Cyclopes children. He named them Brontes for the Thunder, Steropes for the Lightning, and Arges for the Brightness.

As they interacted with him very little, it seemed that they cared very little for their Primordial father or the kindness that he had bestowed upon them by allowing them to exist in his Realm. Their disinterest only seemed to raise Ouranos’ anger.

He cared nothing for them. Why should their disrespect matter to him when he was the ruler of all of Greece? While he had no answer, the question begged another. How had his union with Gaia brought them forth? She had not carried the one-eyed beings in her body as she had with the Hecatoncheires, or even as it had been for him.

Had they been born from the seeds of the disappointment he felt towards their Hecatoncheires brethren? Were his emotions just as potent in the act of creation? Were those emotions just as important to making life in this wildly new existence?

Upon realizing how powerful his children could be, he knew where he might obtain guidance.

The sisters enjoyed traveling the land freely, but whatever the sky touched, Ouranos could see. Finding them was the simplest task for the Sky Primordial to accomplish. The three were walking on one of the many islands surrounding the peninsula.

They were exchanging words as they each, in turn, inspected the rocky green ground. Ouranos did not care for whatever evaluation they had for his Realm. He intended to make use of their vision and Progenitor-gifted wisdom.

“You would do well to control your lustful urges, Great King,” Lachesis remarked offhandedly. She made her statement before the Primordial King could even manage a word. “The land cannot stand much more of your coital exchanges with Mother Gaia.”

Ouranos could not say anything at first. The brazen fearlessness of the Fates was something to behold. “That is not why I have come,” he said back, trying to steer them towards his needs.

“We know why you have come,” Clothos said disinterestedly. She bent down to look at a blade of grass, inspecting it with great care.

“And does my reason bore you?” Ouranos asked. He closed his fist, restraining the fury. He was the Sky King, chosen by Chaos. All the Realm was meant to serve him, and while he could not harm the Progenitor, he could bring these insubordinate children of his fellow Primordial to heel.

“It does,” Atropos answered with complete honesty. She held her posture as her eyes analyzed the dirt and rocks on the ground.

“If you are angry with your progeny, I will remind you again that it would be beneficial to refrain from lying with your wife,” Lachesis warned. She had completed her observation of the place around them.

“After all, she is the earth itself, and as fertile as the ground that grows the trees that touch your skies,” Atropos added. She looked up to the heavens, seeing something that was not there just yet.

“But will she have children like her and me?” Ouranos asked. His frustration was mounting at the three. How could they have such disregard for him?

“Do you mean children you will not reject, like your many-handed ones, or those you do not enjoy acknowledging like the Cyclopes?” Clothos wondered.

The clouds above began to congregate and crash against one another. Sounds of thunder joined flashes of lightning to match the storm that was brewing within Ouranos.

“Watch your tone, Daughters of Nyx!” Ouranos warned. “Chaos chose me to be King, and I rule, even over you!”

“Do you, now?” Atropos wondered. She and her sisters were entirely unbothered by the King and his feelings. “Perhaps for now,” she conceded as he towered over all three of them. “But your selfish greed shall be your doom, Ouranos.”