PROLOGUE

The abode of the three sisters of fate was a small, thatched dilapidated hut. It was built of old oak and had a few creeper wines brocading its shabby appearance. But something about the simplicity, the shabbiness or perhaps the very quiddity of the hut made you want to enter it. Inside it, it was much larger than it looked. There were rows and rows of shelves containing different coloured threads of life, crimson for mortals, a misty violet for the supernatural and gold for the Gods. There were looms and scissors, it all looked like a fancy tailor’s shop. But it was perhaps a special tailor’s shop, for in this hut, the lives and destiny of Gods and mortals were decided. This was the home, the workspace of the Moirai, the three old crones, the three sisters of fate. They looked around the numerous threads of life, inspecting which one to choose.

“What an odd request he had!”, Clotho exclaimed, running an old wrinkled finger over her precious loom.

“Indeed, a request from the King of the Underworld, Hades himself! Why, I never thought I would see that!”, piped in Lachesis.

Atropos grinned a twisted smile,

“Well odd or not, when he has requested us something himself, we ought to fulfil his wishes, don’t you agree sisters?”

Clotho and Lachesis hummed in approval. The request, as odd it was, should be granted. They themselves approved of the request.

“But who should we choose? Who would love the God of Death? The only companion of Death is fear, not any living being.” Atropos said, her shrewd and keen eyes looking around all the yarns of threads around them.

Thanatos. The God of Death. He was to have a companion, that was Hade’s request to Moirai. He had undoubtedly given loyal service to Hades and the Underworld, but a companion for a reward? That was hard, for he was death, and no living being wished to be the companion of death.

Lachesis’s head clicked sharply to the light thud which disrupted the thoughtful silence. A reel of thread had fallen. All three sisters peered at the reel. How? The threads of life were under the control of the three sisters, they wrote the destiny of all in this cosmos, so how did a reel fall on its own? This was beyond destiny, beyond magic itself. The three sisters looked at the reel with a slight tinge of fear, how was it no under their control? It was beautiful, a soft periwinkle, with specks of gold. It was the life, thread of a supernatural, but why was it flecked with gold the colour of the Gods?

“Whose is that?”, Atropos demanded still staring at it with veiled hostility.

Clotho walked over to the reel and nimbly picked it up. She looked at, letting it speak to her.

“Corvina Nightfall, a young witch, daughter of the Leader of the Nightfall coven.”, Clotho said.

“But why is her thread flecked with gold, and how did she move on her own?” Lachesis asked, her voice a low whisper.

“It can’t be…it absolutely can not. Can it?” asked Atropos with wonder lining her voice, her previous anger of the thread slipping her control vanishing.

Lachesis and Clotho looked at her solemnly.

“It must be sister, otherwise how would it move on its own? This life,”, Clotho pointed to the enchanting and mystical reel,

“Is beyond fate, beyond destiny, beyond the Gods, beyond us. It must be it. She, she must be the Companion of Death.”

The three sisters took a long breath. A life beyond destiny? A life which none of them could remember spinning and making.

“Then she shall be his. After eons, Death, shall have a companion, a bride. Corvina Nightfall will be the companion of Death. The companion of Thanatos.”, Atropos decided, gently touching the silken thread.

Lachesis took out another reel of thread, this one a pure gold, shining silver when the musty sunlight hit it. The thread of life of Thanatos. The life of Death. Clotho, the spinner, took the two threads and began waving them together. A force beyond destiny had chosen the destiny of Corvina and Thanatos, the God and Goddess of death.

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