The Three Sisters of Fate
Prometheus’s misty eyes carried a strange sense of disconnection, as though he were staring at some faraway place rather than the here and now. It wasn’t merely a feeling. He truly was looking at a distant realm that had nothing to do with me.
The one who thinks ahead. A prophet gifted with the insight to peer into the future and predict the present. He was an existence who guarded secrets of the world even the king of gods, Zeus, did not know. If anyone could answer my questions, it was him.
“I came because I have something to ask.”
“Then release me.”
I raised Napoleon’s pistol and fired at the flock of eagles tearing at his liver.
Bang—! Bang—!
With shrill cries, the eagles scattered into the distance. I then summoned the Twin Dragon Sword and sliced through the iron chains binding Prometheus to the rock. There was no hesitation in my movements. Freeing Prometheus was a fixed event in history.
When Heracles had undertaken the eleventh labor to retrieve Hera’s golden apples, one of the clues had been the liberation of Prometheus. The actor had changed, but since the act itself did not alter a major historical turning point, the quest permitted it. Above all, the fact that the future-seeing Prometheus had allowed it gave my actions legitimacy.
Clatter—
The chains that had held Prometheus for countless ages fell away. Though they had once bound a god, Zeus’s wrath no longer lingered within them. In exchange for revealing one of the world’s secrets, Zeus had forgiven him and had simply been waiting for the one who would set him free.
Clatter—
The moment Prometheus was released, the iron chains shrank and transformed into a small ring. Prometheus slipped the shrunken chain-ring onto his finger and spoke.
“Typhon’s remnants still linger in the world. That is what has changed his children.”
Typhon. Chaos born from Tartarus, father of all monsters. The evil deity who had driven Olympus to the brink of destruction single-handedly. The monster Zeus had sealed beneath Mount Etna was Typhon. Even imprisoned underground, the evil god’s essence had remained in the world, influencing his offspring. This was, after all, a parallel world that had diverged from official history.
Learning the truth left me troubled. If Prometheus was right, it would be difficult for Heracles to defeat the Hydra. Even with his nephew’s help, the monster Heracles had ultimately failed to finish off completely was the Hydra. And now that same Hydra had been strengthened to the point of growing three additional heads. Even if he managed to slay the empowered Hydra, it was hard to believe he could overcome the remaining ten trials alone. The golden-apple-guarding dragon Ladon and the hellhound Cerberus were both stronger than the Hydra. Overcoming the trials would take a very long time, and I could not stay with Heracles for that many years.
I need to change the terms of the labors.
Zeus was out of the question. He knew everything yet remained silent. Hera was even worse; she despised Heracles enough to inflict a curse of madness upon him. That left only one other god who could alter Heracles’s labors.
A god capable of changing laws set by the king of the gods.
Did such a god even exist? And even if one did, there was no guarantee they would listen to my request. I was still lost in those worries when Prometheus spoke again.
“Go seek the three sisters of fate.”
…The three sisters of fate.
The three sisters of fate Prometheus referred to were the Moirae, the goddesses who governed the threads of life. When the eldest, Clotho, spun the thread, the second, Lachesis, measured it, and when life reached its end, the youngest, Atropos, cut it. The fate they decided was absolute; even Zeus, king of the gods, could not defy what the three sisters decreed. They were the sole beings in existence beyond Zeus’s influence, the only ones capable of overturning even the rules he established.
Yet the Moirae were not beings one could simply decide to visit. They existed not in physical space but in a conceptual realm known as the Garden Where Fates Intertwine.
“How do I reach them?”
“You will know soon enough, naturally.”
Prometheus placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled gently, as though repaying me for his liberation. By the time his smile began to blur, he had already vanished. Only the returning eagles remained, circling the empty rock with their piercing cries.
“I didn’t get to ask about Hera’s madness.”
Well, Jeanne would handle that on her own. Having obtained my answer, I descended the rocky mountain. I needed to meet the three sisters of fate.
*
When I returned after meeting Prometheus, Heracles was inside the quarters prepared by the king of Mycenae, running his hands over the Nemean lion pelt. He had tried to cut it by force, but the hide refused to yield. I offered him advice.
“Use its own claws. That should cut it.”
“The lion’s claws?”
“Yes.”
To cut the Nemean lion’s pelt, one had to use the beast’s own claws. Ordinary blades could not even scratch it, yet the lion’s own talons could pierce the hide. In the original myth, Heracles had struggled for days before realizing the same thing.
Soon Heracles yanked out a claw and sliced through the pelt with a powerful stroke. His eyes gleamed.
“Hah. It really works.”
“How’s your mind?”
“Much clearer.”
The amber pupils that had been clouded with madness had grown considerably clearer. The insanity still lurked beneath the surface, but it was no longer so severe that conversation was impossible. Jeanne had spent the last several days purifying Hera’s curse.
“Jeanne, Vanessa.”
I summoned the two women and gave each a request.
“Seojun-nim, did everything go well on your errand?”
“Yes, it did. For now, I’d like you to continue purifying Heracles-nim.”
“Of course.”
After entrusting Heracles’s purification to Jeanne, I turned to Vanessa.
“Vanessa-nim.”
“Shall I fashion the pelt into clothing for him?”
“Just enough to wear is fine. You know how he is.”
“And you, sir?”
“I’ll receive my reward later. It’s all right.”
Truthfully, I wasn’t sure I could even use it. The Nemean lion was a child of the evil god Typhon. Its hide carried a demonic curse; even slight contact could poison an ordinary human. It was a demonic beast difficult to purify even with Jeanne’s holy power, so I would have to handle it with extreme care. Only someone of Heracles’s caliber could wear it without consequence.
It hasn’t become an artifact yet, either.
More pressing was the question of how to meet the three sisters of fate. Prometheus had said I would learn naturally, but the Hydra hunt was already imminent. The moment Heracles donned the lion pelt, he looked ready to depart. I was barely keeping him here under the pretext of purifying his madness.
Tomorrow at the earliest.
At the latest, the day after tomorrow. Heracles would head for the Lerna swamp to slay the Hydra. Before then, I had to meet the Moirae no matter what. With that thought weighing on my mind, I fell asleep, wondering how to keep him occupied.
And then…
It’s been sixty-eight years.
Its time is up. Cut it.
Yeah. Got it.
I woke to the sound of whispering. The scenery before my eyes was utterly bewildering. I had definitely just fallen asleep inside the general store. This was an indoor space, yet…
“……”
When I opened my eyes, what unfolded was the Milky Way. The sea of stars hung so close it seemed ready to pour down at any moment. Below me stretched another Milky Way, and when I turned, I saw a clear lakeside veiled in pale mist. A strange, mystical space that defied definition.
We must cut it.
Apollo begged us to spare him.
Can he bring a substitute?
Let’s wait and see.
Yeah.
The whispering came from beyond the lakeside. Before a spinning wheel of fate, three beautiful women were handling the threads of life. The moment I saw them, I realized this was the Moirae’s dwelling—the Garden Where Fates Intertwine.
You will know soon enough, naturally.
Prometheus had smiled kindly as he rested his hand on my shoulder. The god who had created humanity had brought me here. I offered him silent thanks and rose to my feet.
Unaware of my arrival, the three sisters continued weaving threads before the spinning wheel as they always had. Clotho drew out the thread of life, Lachesis assigned its destiny, and Atropos severed it to declare the end. In their hands, the workings of the world were decided.
Suddenly I noticed a single thread lying on the ground near Clotho’s feet. It must have been someone’s fate that she had accidentally dropped. Yet even a “mistake” by the Moirae was itself fate. I picked up the fallen thread and approached them.
Only then did the three sisters realize a stranger had entered their garden. They turned toward me in unison.
“Who are you?”
“How did you get in here?”
“I sense Prometheus’s presence.”
“I picked up the fallen thread.”
I showed them the thread. Their eyes widened.
“Clotho, did you drop a thread?”
“We’ll have to measure the length again.”
“But how could that human touch it?”
“How indeed?”
It seemed only the three sisters were permitted to touch the threads of fate on that spinning wheel. Yet—
“I feel no fate from him.”
“It’s true. There is no thread.”
“How can this be?”
The three sisters stared at me in astonishment, then began rummaging through the spinning wheel as though searching for my thread. In the end, they could not find it. In a way, it was only natural. My thread of fate belonged to a parallel world; it could not exist with this world’s Moirae. To them, I must have appeared as a heretical being outside the spinning wheel of fate, unbound by its rules.
“I have a request.”
The three sisters, who had been whispering among themselves, now regarded me warily.
“Since you returned the thread, we will grant that much.”
“Only that much. Nothing more.”
“Do not touch the spinning wheel.”
“Please allow me to assist Heracles with his twelve labors.”
At my words, the sisters froze.
“Heracles?”
“Zeus’s son?”
“Hera?”
They began to deliberate.
“Could we not cut it longer?”
“Yes, that might be possible.”
“That human did bring back the thread. We simply need to remeasure the full length.”
The whispering continued far longer than before. Yet I was not worried. The Moirae were goddesses beyond even Zeus’s reach. Their word was an unassailable fate.
As expected, they reached their verdict.
“Understood.”
“Then leave now.”
“Farewell.”
“It was nice to meet you.”
My vision blurred. When I opened my eyes again, I was back inside the general store. I had thought it a dream, but I soon learned otherwise.
The content of the labors has changed.
Those were the first words Heracles spoke when he came to see me that morning.