Orn was wheezing when he finally made it to the chapel. Just one flight of stairs and he was out of breath. This had seemed normal a couple weeks ago, but the with context from his new memories he had begun to realize how truly weak he was.

He managed to catch his breath in time to see a hung over Olrich step out of the chapel. “Welcome young one to the start of the path. Are you ready to leave childhood behind and step onto the path chosen for you?”

Orn had several thoughts about the path set for him, but he had no choice. He had to go forward with the ceremony. “Yes.”

Olrich nodded and then stepped aside opening the path for Orn. “The time is right for this thread to find its place, and this humble one commends this tread to the loom.” Then in a deeper voice Olrich added, “ On behalf of the Goddess of the Shuttle.”

“On behalf of the Goddess of the Shuttle.” The people in the chapel replied watching Orn.

Humble one, yeah... Orn thought as he stepped past his cousin who was decked out in so much gold, he resembled a gilded pig.

Orn walked along the isle in the middle of the room, as he had been told. The small room seemed smaller today, since every chair that could fit in the small space was brought in. His parents, and the senior staff members were present as witnesses.

Olrich slowly walked behind Orn continuing, “The shuttle passes the thread across the loom. The thread passes between many other threads. These bind the thread and set it within the grand design.”

A handful of steps carried Orn past his parents and to the front of the shrine. At the end of the isle a small loom was set against the wall. A piece of cloth ran from the loom and onto the floor. At the end the cloth was folded, making a small cushion to protect his knees. He gingerly knelt on the small pile of cloth, and examined the small figures carved into the side of the loom. The carvings showed the goddesses working their own loom and telling some story Orn could not quite make out.

Orn felt Olrich’s gut brush past him as the priest tried to discreetly slide between Orn and his father in the front row. As Olrich took his place next to Orn, he stopped trying to suck in his gut.

From the corner of his eye Orn watched the priest’s belt strain. A very, fat gilded pig.

“The thread is ready to take its place in the great tapestry.” Olrich said reaching down to touch Orn’s forehead. “May the goddesses’ grace make this clear to you.”

Orn bowed his head as he had been told and noticed colored lights on the floor. There were gasps around the room. Orn started to turn his head, but Olrich’s hand was now resting on the back of Orn’s head keeping him facing forward.

Orn stopped trying to turn as he remembered the priest’s lessons. You must only look down and forward until the ceremony is over.

Slowly Orn watched as a faint light slowly lifted from the floor in front of him. The light slowly began to resolve itself, into a thread from the cloth he kneeled on. This thread seemed to widen until he felt he was kneeling on a lit path.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Having taken its place in the tapestry the Goddess of the patterns will reveal this one’s path. Let us all pray. …” Olrich began to drone on.

Orn felt the path the goddess intended for him. Any hope Orn had that the goddesses did not realize he knew disappeared as he understood the path, they gave him…

NO! Orn screamed internally.

Their intent rushed into his mind. Broken, a soul crippled in body and spirit. May you seek mercy in the goddesses’ grace. Your faith will lead others to the true path and await your rewards in the next life.

But with this he also somehow knew things the goddesses did not want him to know. He understood the cause of his weakness.

Cursed by the goddess of the pattern-You have insulted the goddess and are refused a path blessed by her grace.

Cursed by the goddess of the loom-The goddess is angry with you. You are domed to ill health but denied the mercy of your thread being cut.

Cursed by the goddess of the shuttle-The goddess punishes you by placing obstacles in your path.

As Orn considered the curses laid upon him, he felt one final though will up. Do you accept the will of the goddesses, will you walk the path before you?

Orn bit his tongue to keep from yelling obscenities.

{Moving Threads}

On the night Orn remembered, three figures worked at a loom in an otherwise empty room. The beater kept a steady rhythm, and the shuttle flew across the loom.

“What is this?!” The voice came out shrill breaking the rhythm in the room. The standing figure reached over the woman working the beater and pointed at the cloth coming from the loom.

The young woman working the beater stopped and stared where her sister pointed. Several threads had moved. Their paths had changed. Staring at the fabric they watched men running through a forest, heading straight for an unsuspecting imperial scouting party. Bringing her focus back up, the men turned back into threads. Gently her finger ran across the cloth, tracing the threads back along their path. This lead to another out of place thread, then to another.

Finally, her finger rested on a thread the goddesses knew well. The one they drug across the tapestry years ago. The goddess sitting at the loom glared up at her sister, then returned to her work. The beater moved slowly at first picking up speed as the goddess’ irritation bled into her work.

With each strike of the beater, they watched the threads of the empire’s scouts disappear from the tapestry. They were meant to find a path through the forest. They would only find the ends of their paths instead.

Atr looked up to the threads still being woven and watched the developing pattern. The change was subtle. The truce was still signed, and the peace would hold for years to come. But the war that followed would not be a quick victory, but a grueling affair. This could not stand.

The goddess at the loom stopped again. “Well, what now?”

The older goddess’s hands clenched into fists. Through clenched teeth she ground out. “We adjust the pattern. Corrections will be made. He will be punished.” Then turning to the youngest woman who was staring idly at the shuttle in her hands, “and you will pick a prophet…”