[At the loom]
Clo glowered at the fabric between her fingers. “It is getting rougher.”
Atr looked up from the basket of strings and the knot she is struggling to untie. “Is it that bad?”
Since Clo did not respond she set the basket aside she rose from her chair. Walking to her sister’s side she looked down at the loom, “What is wrong? I cannot see any major changes to the pattern. It must not be that bad.”
“I am not talking about the pattern!” Clo snapped and lifted the cloth in her fist. “I am talking about this. The little ridges, the tension they make in the fabric.”
Atr looked at the part of the fabric her sister held out to her, then sighed. Walking back to her chair she gave Clo a sidelong glance. “I cannot see anything, so it is minor. You have spent so long worrying over the fabric that you have started seeing things that are not…”
“If you say it is not there…” Clo growled lowering the cloth.
“Critical.” Atr replied flatly, sitting in the chair. “I cannot see the fabric’s weaving unless there is something badly wrong. That is why mother put you in charge of it, just like how neither of us can see individual threads, all that…”
Atr muttered a curse and started rummaging through the bag of threads as she returned it to her lap. “I just had a knot, I know I did. There should not be so many left. I swear Lac, is not trying to even untie these…”
[Lac]
Lac leaned back on the boulder as the ogres bored of tormenting the man. The biggest among them grabbed a small tree it used as a club, and in one swift motion brought it down on the mangled body of the would-be prophet. Lac felt the smile on her face grow at the wet snapping sound of bones shattering. One less thread I have to deal with. Now if only they would stop reappearing in the basket.
A familiar voice coming from behind her made the smile disappear immediately. “What are you doing?”
Finally get a moment to myself, and she has to show up. Lac sighed, “I thought you were busy with your toy Kao.”
Her sister appeared next to her and looked down at the ogres laughing as they began to eat the remains. Lac saw Kao grimace as she watched the gruesome sight below. Lac had to fight the urge to scoff, I still cannot understand why she cares at all for them. They take so much more effort than everything else.
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“You are glaring at me Lac. Is something wrong?” Kao’s question was one of concern, but the sing-song voice that carried it could only be called mocking.
“Yes, there is. I had a moment alone, for the first time in a long time, and now you are here.” Lac stood and brushed off her silver dress. “Now if you will excuse me. I have other things to do.”
As Lac turned and walked away when a question made her miss a step. “What are you doing? It must be very important for Atr and Clo to let you away from the loom.”
Relax. She commanded herself. There is no way she knows. She has never had a prophet and never seemed interested in the pattern, only the threads involved.
“Even those two, recognize the need to get a break from the loom. This is my turn, and you are ruining it.” Lac snapped back.
Kao turned back to the grisly scene below. “It is not their fault mother went to sleep. You know that right?”
[Kao]
Her question met with silence, but she knew Lac was already gone. Back to the task their sisters had put her to. I cannot believe you think I am that stupid. Keep looking for your prophet Lac. You understand them less than our sisters, and it will come back to haunt you.
Kao took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
When she opened them, her form was changed to the looming hooded figure of Death. Her hollow eye sockets scanned the torn an bloody ground before stopping on the reason she came to the morbid scene. Around her ogres made disgusting sounds as they enjoyed their meal. Kao ignored them, instead focused on a hazy figure standing beside where his corpse had once laid.
“Why did they not come for me? Was I not faithful enough?” the ghost’s eyes were pleading. “Please tell me, death. Please tell me that the goddesses do not hate me.”
“The goddesses do not hate you.” Kao's words seemed to echo even as they passed between her teeth. She gently reached down to rest a skeletal hand the soul’s head.
Only one goddess hates mortals. Keeping the thought to herself, she stroked the hair of the crying ghost in an effort to comfort him. “It is time for you to find your way back to the basket. There you will await your next place in the tapestry.”
The ghost looked at her with hope in his eyes, a sense of peace filling his face. Kao watched as he faded from view, his thread no longer attached to the tapestry.
Shaking her head, she grabbed the hilt of the blade hanging at the waist of her robes. As she drew the blade it transformed into a sickle. If only I had the time to see you all off as gently.
She made a quick slash in the air with the sickle. The motion was at once effortless, but also heavy with the weight of the burdens holding countless souls. She put away the blade as threads now trimmed of their lingering attachments, moved on to the next life.
Her work done, her form changed back into the one she was most comfortable with, and she began to walk away. As she walked she absent mindedly stroked the hilt of the blade. I wonder what Orn's expression would be if... No. When. When I tell him what I have been fighting him with...