hi, i had random insperation to write this while playing chess. And reading the mark of Athena (for like the 100th time) while waiting for my opponant to play i would read a page or so. please tell me what you think. adios.
The fates stood, in their part of the underworld. And they looked down at the game in front of them, only it wasn't a game, it was real life. Real life chess.
Atropos moved her old bony hand. She was the fate that cut the string of life. She rested her index finger on a small pawn. The minute her skin came into contact with the chess piece, she saw a rush of images. A tiny baby being found drifting down a flood, a small girl leaving an orphanage, three children hiking down the side of a river, the same three children fighting a hydra, the girl, now about twelve, crouching down beside a boy. The boy surrounded in blood. Two girls crossing the border to camp, the girl with a blazing hammer symbol above her head, her first quest, then killing a pack of hellhounds with only a hammer. Atropos pushed the pawn forward. A final image flashed in her head, another demigod stabbing a sword into the stomach of the girl, into the stomach of Ember Palo.
Sacrifices, she had to be used so that the rest could advance.
Clotho sighed, she was the fate that spun the thread of life. She reached out and touched the chess piece. She had a feeling that this would be next. It was a knight. A steady stream of images began to transmit into her head. A boy about six, holding a pure black dagger, gazing into it with icy blue eyes. The same boy looking at a giant scorpion, the boy, now about twelve, holding hands with a girl about the same age. The boy standing over the girls body weeping, and a felling of hatred, so much hatred. Hatred that had guided his actions ever since. She tapped the knight with her finger, and it slid forward. Like it was only a piece of wood, not the soul of some boy. There was no final image this time.
Just Black.
Lachesis, the fate that measured the string of life. Yet she still had her job in this game. Just as much as everyone else. She selected her piece, a bishop. And she waited patiently for what would follow. A tall man towering over them, a small girl with blonde hair and stormy grey eyes, then the same girl with two others, a boy and a girl- both of them looked older, the boy giving her a knife. The boy, now a lot older with glowing golden eyes, Another boy, this one with sea green eyes, a tall pine tree. A satyr, and a centaur, a war ridden new York, a huge war ship. And almost like a photograph, nine people standing together. The girl with the blond hair, a boy with sea green eyes and messy black hair, a girl with curly hair and golden eyes, a girl with choppy hair and kaleidoscope eyes, a boy with blond hair and blue eyes, a boy with black hair and eyes, a boy with curly brown hair and eyes, a big burly boy and a girl with electric blue eyes and black hair. The heroes of Olympus Lachesis thought. She went to move the Bishop forward, but then hesitated. For there was one piece that stood in her way. One piece that would stop her killing off the girl. The king. She knew that the king would do anything to stop her killing this bishop.
Percy Jackson would do anything to stop her killing Annabeth Chase.