They disappeared into one of Tartarus’s many caves. The empty black hole had once been a bright and vibrant hall. During childhood, the Furies told him many stories of the Hall of Echoes. The magnificent tales formed vivid images within his mind, and as he walked into the black, his imagination took hold.
A path of worn salt crystals, colored in a rosy pink of human flesh, dissected the hall and sapphire pools lined the cave walls, reflecting massive candlelit chandeliers. Their flickering light illuminated the beige rocks, making them glow a soft gold. Looking in each pool was looking into a moment in time. They acted as the Furies’ direct link to the Mortal Realm, levels of the Underworld, and how they checked on him during his training. Soft popping under his feet jarred him from his daydream.
He shook his head, releasing made-up images of the past. Bioluminescent insects twitched on the ground beneath his shoes. He followed their greenish orbs of light as they led him down the once beautiful path and to the only remaining pure waters of Tartarus.
In the vast black, the Galazoneri stood as a beacon of hope for their dying home. The turquoise pool appeared alive and sentient as it rippled and shone bright in the windless dark. Mother? Maiden, and Crone circled the timeless waters and placed their fingertips in its beauty.
Alek stood still and silent behind his mothers. He tensed his broad back against the uncertainty writhing within him. I am the Immortal Warrior of Tartarus. He reminded himself. There is no task at which I will not succeed.
Water spun around the women’s fingers. The mini whirlpools grew wider and wider with every breath they took. Each underwater tornado swallowed its neighbor until only one enormous spinning pool remained. The Furies removed their fingers from the well and waited. Beads of water detached from the spinning pool and floated up. They moved slowly at first, as every drop waited for the previous to reach its destination. Then, more quickly, as hundreds of droplets wiggled up, binding together to form inchoate shapes. The spin of the pool slowed as the shape took form. Arms sprouted from the large ball of pulsing water, then legs, and a head. The water in the basin stilled, but remained bright and illuminated the liquid figure floating above. Details rippled to the surface, and Alek recognized it as Atropos, one of the three Fates, and sister to the Furies.
“Ah, sisters, it has been long since we have spoken.” Atropos’s creaky voice exited her watery silhouette.
Crone spoke first. “You are well, my sister?”
“Always.” A smirk lifted the corners of her mouth. “My work keeps me young.”
“Indeed, it has been too long. I had almost forgotten how you enjoy the task you perform.”
“Yes. Still the only being with the power to cut the thread of life.” Her smiled widened. “A task of which I shall never grow weary.”
“And for that, you will always be my favorite of the Fates,” Alek chuckled.
“Alek? You cannot possibly be the grown man I see. Come closer.”
He moved forward and stood in between Crone and Maiden. “I assure you, I am the same Alek.”
“The same?” she scoffed.
“I have not called on you since I was a boy and many changes have taken hold since then. But my purpose will stay true. In this task, and all others, I will forever protect the Underworld.” Speaking his purpose aloud eliminated all doubt, and he relaxed into his place beside his mothers.
“It is remarkable how far you have come. I have great faith in you, Warrior.”
He nodded respectfully. “Your words are much appreciated, Atropos.”
“You spoke of a task. I assume this call is for more than just reminiscing.”
“You are correct, sister,” Mother said. “We have called upon you for a pressing matter.”
“We must know more about the descendant of Pythia,” Crone added.
“If you wish to dive straight into the muck, I suppose we will do so. I shall return in a moment.” Alek stared into Atropos’s eyes, not wanting to miss what he knew was coming. Her eyelids fluttered rapidly and each iris disappeared as they rolled backward and into her head. Her nostrils flared, and the tendons in her neck flexed tight. Her chest expanded, and when her lungs were full, the watery body relaxed and her eyes continued their circle, rolling back into place.
“It is fortunate you called upon me so soon. The timeline of the Mortal Realm’s new Oracle has skipped ahead.”
Maiden spoke for the first time during the call, “Skipped ahead? What is meant by this?”