Epilogue: The Free Will of Fate

It’s something unpredictable

But in the end, it’s right

I hope you had the time of your lifeGreen Day, Good Riddance (Time of Your Life), from Nimrod, 1997, written by Billie Joe Armstrong, copyright © 1997 Reprise Records, a Warner Music Group Company.

The Moirai had decided to be on Olympus for the events when the time schism began. They knew if they had been in the Underworld, events might have been altered. They needed to be more intelligent than those who sought to use them or to change their destiny.

They gathered at their loom of fate. They too saw events of the past, present and future. How could they not? This was their vocality. While their ancient hands weaved the intricate threads of time, they observed the elder Cronos come and go.

As the elder Cronos vanished into the timestream, they suspected he would be returning to his future. The three of them looked at one another, and their cackles filled the room.

Clothos tugged at a thread while her face held a mischievous smile. “He departs, believing he can change what is woven.”

Lachesis smirked as she measured the strand. “People might change but scarcely enough to alter events.”

Atropos gleamed, scissors in hand. “No matter his power, Cronos will never escape his fate. He is bound in chains more powerful than anything Olympus might forge.”

“Might he change things, Sister?” Clothos wondered.

Atropos considered the question. “He is one of the few that might. If one saw our future and what they saw did not command them, they could change things, but more powerful beings like the youngest son of Cronos and Rhea would not allow it. However, Cronos is in a unique position. He cannot let go of his rage towards Zeus, Rhea’s betrayal, or even his need for power. If he changed any of himself or his feelings on those events, dear sister, he might have altered the future.”

“But he can’t,” Lachesis remarked with a laugh.

Atropos gave her younger sister a look before all of them locked eyes once more. They considered their design. They looked upon a lone god standing between Cronos and his brothers at his back. They laughed in unison as their tapestry had two brothers at that gods back.

One with the power of the Underworld and darkness, and the other wielding lightning, water, and the dead. Their joy echoed with the inevitability of destiny.

They yearned to see their design made real. So long as choice existed, so too could free will, and so their tapestry was always in danger of not coming into fruition, but they suspected that these divinities could not help but march to their destruction.

The Moirai longed to see how it all played out. They yearned to see Cronos’ revenge. They wanted to see Zeus’ greatest and lowest days. They wanted to see the heart of a Queen sway. They burned for these and more. These events might come to pass, and the daughters of Nyx prayed to Chaos that they might.