Three women stood hunched over a spinning wheel in the center of the spacious room. The one that controlled it was the oldest of the three. She was a withered crone spinning the threads as they left her hands in a rainbow of colors. Her blue eyes were clouded with age. “This one turned out well enough, the sin was stopped in time.”
The second was middle-aged and a brunette and inspected each colored thread as it came into her hands. She’d weave some threads together, and then tear others apart, a smile on her lips as she did so. “Only because she broke free of the life set for her. If she hadn’t been a pure soul to start with, that could have corrupted her for the entirety of her cycle. Can you imagine?”
The last of the three was a teenager, who took the threads and wound them into a gre
