Lineage of the Mortals: Fall of the golden era

Escape

Deep in Tartarus the Moirai spun the threads for every living creature, none were exempt from their scope. The dark cave in which the three crones did their work contained an endless blackness. The tapestry, which extended up the cavern walls around them and out of sight, was the only exception. Its surface seemed to waver and writhe as circumstances coiled threads together, tore them apart and changed their colour. There was no definitive pattern to the piece, its shape and form dictated by the fates instinct. The threads were a multitude of colours where each creature had their own individuality. Some were vivid, sparkling in the gloom, where others were faded and dark.

The ever growing tapestry was nurtured and managed by each Fate. Clotho was the youngest, her distaff suspended in the air before her. It drew in the darkness like a lightning rod, coalescing into a mass at the distaffs upper end. Guided by Clotho’s hands to her spindle, the thread would begin to take shape. The next fate, Lachesis, would draw the thread from the end of the spindle and pin the newly born string to the tapestry. Pinching her fore-finger and thumb along the thread, Lachesis would stretch it against her measuring rod. This would give the thread its colour and dictate that persons experiences, destiny, and personality. There the threads would remain, extending like a web from the spindle to the tapestry, until they meet the shears of the third fate. The inevitable Atropos. Her shears would sever them from life and their thread would fully seat itself into the tapestry, the only reminder of their existence on the surface.

The three continued silently in their immortal work. Each fate’s hands moving slowly, precisely and with purpose, as if guided by some unknown force. They would move like this for all eternity, finishing when the very fabric of the world had lived out its own thread. Their movements weren’t interrupted when a shrouded figure began to materialise out of the darkness. The figure lifted its hood to reveal the grey, sallow face of a man. He looked to the fates with clear distaste.

“I have an eternal misery to live out. What is it you want sisters?”

He greeted. The man’s voice was unusually compelling for his thin appearance. Thick and convincing, it would numb your mind in waves. That voice was built to manipulate, planting ideas and thoughts, ensnaring you into a deadly trance. A fitting gift for the daimone of depression, despair and self-doubt.

Moros.

“We have a request”

“I gathered that. I’m not a servant on call. My time used to be precious.”

Moros replied sarcastically. He moved closer to his sisters. To others it may have seemed intimidating but his gesture didn’t disturb the fates.

“Excess time can be a burden rather than a blessing. Too much of a commodity tarnishes its value”

Lachesis commented. She measured out her newest thread, contemplating its length. Moros loomed over the middle sister.

“Value is relative. It’s my choice what I do with it. I could choose to find the time to inflict my gifts onto you three”

Moros sneered. The Moirai maintained a calm composure, he wasn’t getting the reaction he wanted. Moros sighed loudly.

“That said I still can’t do my best work banished under the surface.”

He lamented. The sister closest to him, Clotho, smiled slightly.

“It’s endearing you think you would have an effect on us. Besides we are very familiar with your gifts and their work without being the recipients.”

Clotho replied. Moros looked to his own sleek black thread on the tapestry. It coiled its way around other threads, choking them and cutting them short.

“Well it’s good to know my power is recognised”

Moros commented in a mocking tone, taking a slight bow.

“You would do well to be more respectful. Your interference increases my workload”

Atropos declared, closing her shears for emphasis.

“Someone needs to keep you occupied.”

Moros remarked.

“Enough. We called you here to listen not talk”

“I thought you would be more courteous, not many hear me talk and live long enough to remember it.”

Moros goaded. When he didn’t get a reply he sighed again and motioned for the fates to keep talking.

“Fine, I have time to waste. What is it?”

“We need you to give a message to Cronus”

Moros’ eyes widened in shock.

“Are you three insane? Of course I can deliver a message. Why don’t we all have a daytrip to the surface? I’m sure his golden majesty king Cronus would just adore a casual drop in from his banished cousins. He has always had a special place in his heart for our kind. My specialty is encouraging self-destruction not partaking in it.”

Moros ranted. The fates continued their slow careful movements in silence while Moros could fully process what they were asking of him. Their grey eyes stared into the distance but he could feel their attention on him.

“Why not send Aparte? Or Dolos? I hear he’s an apprentice of Iapetus’ sons these days. Riveting as this is I’m not going on a suicide attempt to the surface. What could possibly entice me to do such a thing?”

“Prey”

The Moirai explained in unison. Moros raised his eyebrow incredulously, his interest piqued.

“The bottom of the tapestry. What do you see?”

Atropos continued. Moros looked at Gaea’s thread, a thick emerald green rope, protruding from the end of the tapestry. From it emerged a web of small, uniform white hairs. These threads were different from the others. They remained separate and their ends were not connected to Clotho’s spindle. Instead they re-joined with Gaea’s own thread. Moros crossed his arms impatiently.

“I’m getting sick of riddles.”

“Each of those white threads represents a mortal. Mortals are a race of people that Cronus helped create. They are born from Gaea and kept in luxury on the surface, until they die and re-join her”

“I didn’t know there was such a race”

“You find yourself and your siblings banished to the realms of the underworld and don’t think to question why? Cronus idolises them. He would do anything to protect them and keep them from the influences of your brethren.”

“Splendid. Am I supposed to jump to your whim for a few easy morsels? I thought you would give me more credit than that. I have no desire to fight Cronus. Find someone else.”

Moros turned and began to meld into the shadows

“He won’t be king for long”

The Moirai said in unison. Moros didn’t know what made him hesitate. Maybe it was the omniscient tone of their voices, or the vague glimmer of hope of being let free. To be set loose upon the world to do what he did best. The Moirai continued to speak, their instinct taking over.

“The golden era shall not last,

Destined to fade,

As bright and fleeting as the setting sun,

The titans will set as six heirs rise,

Once son usurps father,

The cycle becomes full again.”

Each of the crones said their lines in turn. Moros always had a quip or a retort, but he found himself speechless. A shiver ran up Moros’ spine and his breathing quickened. As the words of the prophecy rang through his ears he could see what they saw. Moros could hear his victim’s whimpers, delighting in their sadness and lapping up every drop of their despair. His work had stopped when the titans took over. He hungered, he yearned, for that feeling again. It filled his mind every minute. He had tried denying it, he had tried exploring into the darkest recesses of Erebus and Tartarus to quell his thirst. Nothing could distract him from his true calling.

“What do you need me to do?”

Moros could barely keep his voice level as he quivered in anticipation. He hadn’t felt such exhilaration since before the fall of Ouranos.

“Deliver the prophecy to Cronus. He may appreciate a reminder…..”

The Moirai continued to explain their plans. None of the daimones noticed a small pale green thread emerge from Gaea’s. The small thread twisted and turned towards the other mortal threads, as if seeking them out. The surrounding white threads loosely began to coil around it, taking on pale colours of their own.

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I sat under my elm watching the people go about their day. It had felt like an age since I’d seen Astraea last and I needed her guidance more than ever. Since my birth celebrations she visited regularly, teaching me about the various titans that ruled the realm and about the world that provided for us. At first, when I was enjoying the weeks with Ismenara and Xyanthe, I had a distraction from her disappearances. We would spend the days together exploring the forest and swimming in the stream. But the more time I spent with them the more I noticed how different Ismenara and her kind were from us. Ismenara gleamed like a jewel among stones. Not just in her looks but in the way she talked and moved. When she smiled her eyes would shine, you could see the happiness behind it. Whereas when one of the people would smile, even Xyanthe, I couldn’t see the light behind it. Even Xyanthe’s laugh began to ring hollow in my ears.

I did think it was a case of getting used to it. But every time Ismenara or Astraea came into the meadow the mortals would be drawn to them like moths to flame. It was as if the mortals could sense the life in them that they didn’t possess themselves, subconsciously wanting a small taste of it. Recently, I found myself going to my elm most days. The way the leaves swayed in the wind was more animated than the people in the meadow before me; a respite from facing the hollowed eyes of my kin.

I looked on as three mortals were talking among the flowers. It pained me to know that there was no connection between them. I had started to think they might be incapable of it. The longer I remained with them the more I realised how rare a pair like Xyanthe and I were. If one of them disappeared I wasn’t sure if the other two would grieve or even remember them. Some would leave and others would arrive, but their movements had no impact on the residents. The only time they reacted to anything was when Astraea would visit.

I wanted to run over to them and shake them to rouse them from their false sense of contentment. I winced as one of them laughed, the hollow sound echoing in the air.

As if whispering in reassurance the leaves of the elm rustled quietly above me. I looked up at the towering tree and leaned harder into the bark. I was too lost in my thoughts to notice Xyanthe walking up to me.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding. I was going to get some fruits would you like to come with me?”

She asked, I thought I could hear an edge of concern. For a moment there was something tangible, something emotional, but, like smoke, it was gone in an instant. Still in my cloud of dark thoughts I didn’t respond. Xyanthe crouched, her brow furrowed in concern as she saw the sad look on my face.

“Is something the matter?”

Xyanthe asked, I jumped when she placed a hand on my shoulder. I wasn’t often she noticed my moods.

“No. Nothing. What fruits were you planning for today?”

I replied nonchalantly. The meaningless conversation tasted bitter on my tongue. The fact that deep down Xyanthe wouldn’t care if I was gone made me sick to my stomach. Even if she didn’t feel the same I looked forward to spending the days with her. She was the only companion I had. Xyanthe ignored my change of subject.

“Whats wrong Callidora? You’ve been so happy”

The concern had drifted back into her tone. I paused, debating over whether or not to tell her. Usually she didn’t press matters very far but there were rare occasions she would become less impassive. This was really something I wanted to talk to Astraea about but she didn’t seem to be coming back anytime soon.

“Do you remember when we first ate the pomegranates together?”

“Yes. Of course I do”

“That was weeks ago. Many mortals have gone since then. Don’t you want to join them?”

Xyanthe was clearly taken aback by my question. I guess not many mortals thought of these things. I could see from her face that Xyanthe was struggling to think of an answer.

“I’m not that sure. I’ve not felt the need to move on”

“What if I left? What would you do then?”

I didn’t notice the eagerness in my voice as I got closer to hearing what I hope Xyanthe would say. Without warning a tear darted down Xyanthe’s cheek. She seemed as startled as I was when she put a hand to her face and it came away wet.

“What? I……”

Xyanthe stammered in disbelief. The pained look Xyanthe had when I started to talk about these matters returned. Clearly her reaction had been involuntary and I didn’t want to put her under any more strain.

“Let’s go and see what we can find in the forest. You never told me what you felt like having”

I mustered as happy a tone as I could to divert her attention. This seemed to distract her from her reaction. Xyanthe and I stood and she locked her arm with mine.

“Great I’m starving”

“IRIS! ARKE!” Rhea screamed. She held her pregnant belly protectively as she ran down the corridors and stairs of the palace, making her way to escape. If she made it to solid earth she could defend herself, a daughter of Gaea would never come to any harm on her mother’s soil. She could hear the sound of Cronos’ feet on the marble floor running behind her, catching up to her. She had to do anything to get away, if he reached her Rhea knew she would never be able to get away again.

“STOP RHEA LET ME EXPLAIN”

Cronos shouted behind her, his voice vibrating off the walls around her. Nothing he could say would ever convince her, she had heard too much.

“HELP! IRIS! ARKE!”

Rhea screamed again. Her breathing was becoming more ragged and her back began to ache. Rhea began to despair, she wasn’t going to reach the doors in time. Turning a corner, she continued to run as fast as she could. The light of the evening sun flashed in her eyes as she passed the windows. In her effort to push on, Rhea tripped over the hem of her chiton and fell to the floor. Pain shot up her arm as she twisted mid-fall to land on her side. She couldn’t see him but Rhea knew Cronos had caught up. He was walking deliberately up the corridor behind her.

“My dear you shouldn’t push yourself like this in your condition”

Cronos scolded lightly as he attempted to help her up, but Rhea was having none of it. Shaking out of Cronus’ grip and falling to the floor again, she scrambled away from him and propped herself up against the far wall. Rhea continued to stare at her husband venomously as she used the nearest window ledge to stand. She had been subject to this charming act before. It had worked again, and again, and again. If it didn’t, he was content with breaking her resolve with force instead. Most of the time she gave in before it got that far. But it was different this time.

“Please Rhea don’t be like this I hate it when we fight”

Cronus pleaded. He moved to help her up again but Rhea skirted from his embrace. She knew the next step was coming, the blue of his eyes was darkening and a sneer was playing on Cronus’ lips. She could only stall until they came to her rescue.

“IRIS!! ARKE!!”

Rhea shouted again. Cronus lunged on top of her, grabbing her by the throat.

“Please dearest we don’t need to involve anyone else. Why won’t you talk to me?”

His harsh grip betrayed his caring tone. He forced her head to face him and looked into her eyes. His voice lowered threateningly.

“When will you learn? You. Are. On. Your. Own. Without me do you think any of them would bother with a treacherous liar like you? I keep your secrets, I try my best to keep you in luxury and there is no gratitude. They won’t take you in like I have.”

“ple......please……”

Rhea begged, clawing at his hand on her neck.

“They would reject you, vilify you, it’s only because of me that you even have any integrity now. It’s time for us to be good. Do you understand? We don’t need anyone else, you will do as I tell you am I clear?”

Cronus’ continued his threat. When he released his grip, Rhea slumped backwards, coughing and spluttering. She could already hear the excuses.

“Now you see what you make me do? If you would just see sense this could all be avoided. I try to be good king, but you have this effect on me Rhea.”

Cronus accused. All Rhea could do was stare at her husband, hoping her aides would arrive soon.

“SAY SOMETHING!!!!”

Cronus exploded, making Rhea jump as if he had kicked her.

“I would rather live on my own before suffering here any longer. You have been deceiving me this entire time. You used your children, MY children, as pawns to hold onto power. I can’t stand to be near you anymore. You won’t have this child, I will make sure of that at least.”

Rhea whispered. It was all the resistance she could muster. She just needed to keep him talking until help could arrive. Cronus bent back down to her again, his face only a hair’s breadth from Rhea’s.

“If I don’t take it you will only drive it away. Moros was lying. If you would stop and listen I can explain it all.”

“HESTIA! HERA! POSIEDON! DEMETER! HADES! Have you forgotten them already? The children you dragged away? I thought you would feel some remorse.”

“My dear, who wanted to have the children in the first place? I tried protecting you from the truth but, still knowing their fate, you wanted to bring them into this world anyway. I took them to where they would be safe. You told me to keep them safe. You were more than willing to go along with this. Even this little one........”

Cronus whispered furiously into her ear. Cronus tried to hold her stomach but Rhea immediately pushed him back. As if sharing her revulsion at their father, she could feel the baby kick.

“You will not be getting this little one Cronus. I don’t care what happens to me but you are not taking this child. I heard Moros tell you that our children will be your undoing. You would keep our children locked away, you would lie to me, just to save yourself?”

“You don’t understand! Everything I have built! I will not see it fall! it will be perfect! I will show everyone what I can do! I did this to save them. I could have been rid of them years ago but I left them alive for you!”

Cronus screamed, his face still inches from Rhea. Rhea felt the rage build inside her like electricity. She didn’t know where the impulse came from, Rhea screamed back and pushed Cronus away. Static exploded from her hands sending the king flying backwards. Colliding into the ceiling, Cronus landed with a loud crash.. Rhea was stunned, looking at her hands in disbelief. They were smoking slightly. She never had an affinity for electricity before. When she looked back at her husband Rhea instantly regretted her actions. He lifted himself up slowly, pieces of the ceiling falling around him. There was pure rage in Cronus’ eyes, which were almost black rather than blue. She could see the front of his chiton was burnt where she had touched him.

“I thought you might be redeemable but you have shown me you can’t see my perfect vision. You want our children? Join them then”

Cronus’ cool, detached tone sent shivers up Rhea’s spine. The air darkened around them, as if the light was being drained away. The golden armlet coiled around Cronus’ arm glowed and came alive. It snaked its way down his bicep and forearm towards his outstretched hand. In his fist the armlet changed shape into a long gold staff. Rhea could feel the power vibrating from the weapon. Gold light pulsed up its length, causing the characters carved into it to glow.

“What is that?”

Rhea managed to whisper. She was rooted to the spot with fear. Cronus smiled evilly as he twirled the staff in front of him.

“Salvation”

He stated. Holding the staff in front of him like a spear, Cronus crouched down and charged toward her. Frozen, Rhea could only watch Cronus get closer. Suddenly, a girl with iridescent wings knelt in front of her. She embraced Rhea and drew her out of his path. Rhea could feel the shockwave as his deadly charge passed them. The marble wall behind them exploded, destroying the perfect façade and sending debris out into the hallway. The next second Rhea felt two arms hook themselves under her armpits and pull her smoothly from the nearest window. Rhea looked into Cronus’ eyes, stunned, as everything moved around her.

“NO!!!”

Cronus shouted in desperation. He swept rainbow-winged woman aside, causing her to violently collide with the wall, and reached to grab Rhea. He managed to clutch onto a bronze anklet. When Rhea felt the tug between Cronus and her rescuer she was jolted back into the real world. She looked at the maddened look in Cronus’ eyes as he desperately clung to her in an attempt to keep control.

“IRIS!!!! GET HIM OFF QUICK I CAN’T HOLD ON FOR LONG”

Arke shouted to her sister. Iris had her forehead cupped in her hand as she slowly got to her feet. Rhea could feel the desperate cling of Arke’s grasp under her arms slipping, as the vice around her ankle tightened. Rhea screamed as she tried to get her ankle free. She saw Iris lift herself up and float into the air. Faster than Rhea could follow, Iris charged into Cronus and sent him flying down the hall. As soon as the queen was free, Arke darted from the façade. Soon after Rhea could see the multitude of colours from Iris’ wings flying next to them. Storm clouds began to gather around them, heavy with rain and thunder. Rhea could feel the baby kicking furiously. Even though the wind was squealing in Rhea’s ears she could still hear Cronus calling after her. She maybe free but as they flew through the rough storm Rhea knew this wasn’t the end.

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The moon was high in the sky as I emerged from the forest. The flowers all took on light grey colours in the moonlight, as if reflecting the stars in the sky. I couldn’t sleep so I wanted to come back to my elm for some comfort. Endless thoughts and sleep never went hand in hand.

I continued to tiptoe my way between the sleeping people to the elm, the grass cooling on my feet. I could see a figure standing at the foot of my elm. I was ready to tell them to get away. When I got closer I realised the figure under the tree had wings, there was only one goddess I knew with wings. She was standing with her arms and wings outstretched, as if basking in the moonlight. There was a meditative stillness in the air around her. I quickened my pace, eager to reach her when the image of the mortals flocking to Ismenara flashed across my mind. The thought of their subconscious desire at a glimpse of life made me quickly stop. I stood awkwardly for a moment before Astraea opened her eyes and smiled down at me. She knelt down on the grass and patted the space next to her with her hand.

“Hello Callidora. Shouldn’t you be asleep this late?”

“The forest and the meadow are beautiful at night. sometimes I like to stay awake to see it”

I tried my best to sound as normal as possible but I just couldn’t seem to muster it. I made my way over the last few people and joined her, trying my best to avoid her eyes. I didn’t want to see another look of curiosity without an explanation.

“Is there something wrong? Aren’t you happy?”

Astraea asked. I just continued to sit awkwardly, not knowing what to do next. I tried a smile but Astraea was more difficult to fool than Xyanthe. She frowned and took my hand.

“Talk to me”

She urged. I breathed deeply, looking out at the meadow. We sat in silence for some time. I had no idea how to begin to tell her the thoughts in my head. Would she be offended? Will she just dismiss it?

“Callidora you can tell me anything. It’s what I’m here for”

“The people…….. The other mortals I don’t think. Well I……..”

“Are you not fitting in well? I could take you to a different province if you like”

“No. there’s no need for that. I…… I just……”

I exclaimed, faltering as tried to explain my thoughts. Astraea just looked at me but there was no urgency. She was waiting patiently for me to get my words.

“Don’t you think it’s strange the way all the mortals look at you?”

“It’s the way it has always been. There’s nothing wrong with being liked. I try to be as good as I can with the role I’ve been given”

“But it’s more than that. It’s the same with Ismenara. They…… they cling to people like you”

“I don’t know what you mean”

Astraea replied slowly, obviously no-one had told her this before.

“I don’t mean it in a cruel way but I know there is something………… strange and I don’t understand it. It seems like I’m the only one who sees it and anytime I try and find out any answers someone gets hurt. It’s all I think about and I can’t figure it out. I notice the looks you give me and I know there is something wrong. What’s wrong with me Astraea?”

My final question hung in the air. Astraea remained silent. She reached a hand out to my face and rubbed away a tear that was rolling down my cheek. The only sound was the grass rustling in the night breeze. I shifted awkwardly and brought my knees to my chin, unsure of Astraea’s silence.

“I... I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said anything”

“Come with me”

Astraea stood and took my hand.

“Where are we going?”

Astraea smiled with tears in her eyes

“To ease your mind”

Astraea slowly began flapping her silver lined wings and lifted us off the ground.