Have you ever considered destiny? Being forced along one path because, well, it was the path that you had to go on. For some reason. The Architect was never quite sure what the true meaning of destiny was, but it was her belief that whatever happened would happen after a few millennia and she was quite content to wait. And really that's what destiny tends to be anyway – there is always a reason for something to occur even if the reason is fairly arbitrary or completely made up to fit the circumstances.
At any rate, she had to leave the House.
The Architect was packing her bag and filling its cavernous belly with all sorts of necessary instruments and clothes. A lady must remain respectable and fully equipped for any situation, and not even she knew what destiny had in store for her. In went the Book of Why, the ointment of zilot, a fetching sunhat, a green hillslod (which belched quietly), and an ever-replenishing box of fish paste sandwiches. On and on it went until any other bag would have been tearing at the seams, but hers simply sat on the wicker chair with a slight sag at the lips. At last she was done, straightened up, and smiled at the mirror hung on the wall (not for any particular reason, happiness is not a quality she felt the need to possess, just that in a human guise she felt it was right to emulate those funny little creatures), and the mirror refused to smile back, staring in stony silence. "You really must learn some manners," she muttered at the glass face, "you have become most insolent as of late." The mirror-Architect made a mue of displeasure as a reply and nothing more. "If that is how you choose to make your goodbyes, then that is your choice. I shall not suffer for it!" the Architect said with equal displeasure, picking up the sagging bag and walking out the Room of Infinite Paces in a few short strides.
Down the stairs, past the Broom Cupboard of Thought, around the Pillar of Memories (a few times, the Pillar had an annoying habit of making you forget where you were going and had ensnared a careless one butler time making him circle it for a several aeons) and down another set of stairs to the Front Door, where the Sins stood in wait.
The Sins were hungry, lowly beings. But they were the Architect's first children and she loved them. They were the embodiment of all that was wrong with her creations; lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy, and pride, but they were also the only things that gave her creations free will – the removal of some automaton destiny that bound them to some miserable form of servitude. She was warned not to pull the Sins from the Nothing, but how could she not when all that she birthed from her mind was a dull copy of herself? From them she had distilled and perfected what it meant to live – something she watch, but never feel. She found all of this rather irritating, and had no doubt in her mind that somewhere destiny was chuckling to itself, pleased with how things all turned out. And somewhere floating in the Nothing were some inky letters from a holy-book that was once impervious to the blackness, but was the paper had since been eaten away to leave only the scratchings of a prophet who belonged to the Siblings of Sin…
"Invidia was the first-made, but how could envy thrive in a world that inhabited only one? Her loneliness and bitter thoughts soon began to turn inwards, and she became obsessed with self-loathing, picking at her beautiful face and tearing at her raven-hair. For her, the Architect made Avaritia, who became greedy of all that the Architect gave his sister-creation, and began to push Invidia into the darkness of the Nothing, in the hope that his Mother-Creator would love only him. But like all his children after him, his twisted mind thought in vain, and the Architect, loving her children equally, and having only just learnt what it meant to live, became sharply aware of what it meant to die. In her panic she gave Avaritia her dearest possession – her gardens – in the hopes that he would leave his sister in peace. Swiftly after came twinned Luxuria and Ira, who raged and longed for each other in equal measure, and from them spawned the incestuous wars that would ravage worlds for eternity. Then Gula was born. Gula never had any children of her own, instead choosing to invite her nieces and nephews into her cult. Not all survived the rituals of entry, instead being consumed by members alive and squirming, so that Gula could grow fat and stinking. The Architect, disgusted by the slovenliness of her youngest daughter made Superbia, her most calm child. He was clean and industrious, but everything he made was stripped from him by Avaritia. Superbia took to hiding himself away and perfecting his work, rising to the top of all the Sins. In his isolation he became crazed and thought there was no-one so great as he, even to rival his Mother-Creator, and for that she struck him down to the pits of Nothing. But even she could not lower Superbia to the level of Acedia, who was her last-born and most sickly. He had not the mind nor the body to work, and became peevish and wretched in his imagined illnesses. From him came all those who were named sloth, and who could not be loved by anyone but their Mother-Creator…"
Avaritia was the first to step towards the Architect, eager to receive his gift. The Architect sniffed and looked down her nose at him, "I have nothing to give you, you received my gardens, and you know that is my dearest gift – if only to stop you from murdering your sister". Avaritia, taken aback shrunk to the height of stooping Acedia.
"But, but I have done nothing but serve you, Mother… nothing but served you faithfully," Avaritia protested, still hoping for more.
"You have, but nothing I could give you could be compared to the gardens, and nothing more I shall give you," the Architect replied, dismissing back to the others. He bowed stiffly and returned to stand beside Invidia, making sure to become the tallest of all the siblings once more.
Invidia was the next to approach the Architect. The Architect lovingly stroked her hair and tucked it behind her ear. "To you I am giving the Upper House, and all that it entails, look after it for me, my love," the Architect said sadly, knowing that her troubled daughter would never be happy.
"I would be grateful for the Incomparable Gardens, Mother, and as the eldest are they not my birth-right?" Invidia asked, a bitter note in her voice.
"They are…" the Architect began, but was cut off by her daughter.
"Then let me have them!" Invidia cried, tears beginning to roll down her face. The Architect sighed softly and kissed her Nothing-burned cheeks.
"I cannot, losing you would cause my heart to break, and the House to crumble, go now."
Next to come, hand in hand, were Luxuria and Ira, who thoroughly repulsed all of the other Sins, and any other denizen that spent time in their company. To her daughter she handed the key of the Middle House, and to her son she gave the keys to the Great Maze. Though it was unfathomable to the Architect as to why they had formed a deep attraction to each other, it did make giving them their keys easier – she knew they would be happy with anything as long as they were close enough to hate and love each other with no distance to dull their passions. The pair bowed and Ira swept Luxuria up in his arms to carry her back to their siblings, each with a smug look on their handsome faces.
Then came Gula, whose looks had melted into her sweating fat. She was by far the shortest of the siblings, but that still put her at over six foot tall. What concerned the Architect was that she was also over six foot wide. The Architect had planned on giving her the Lower House, but having seen the condition her daughter was in one hundred years ago (when she was only about five foot wide) she guessed that destiny would have planned to have her swell many more times, and had adjusted her own plans to accommodate as such; "You have the Border Sea, daughter, it is large and full of goodness, treat it well."
There was a snigger from Acedia, "Larger than Gula I hope, Mother, or when she bathes will all the water have to be displaced to the beaches." The other siblings tried to hide their smirks, and Gula looked to the ground, her swollen face reddening, which only made them laugh out loud, their tongues gleaming.
"Quiet, all of you," the Architect snapped, "or I shall send you back to the Nothing from where you came." After silence settled she signalled for Superbia to step forward. He came in quick, purposeful paces and waited with his hand behind is back for his key.
"It is your choice, the Lower House or the Far Reaches, I know Acedia will not care which he is given," said the Architect.
Without a moment's pause Superbia replied, "The Far Reaches, Mother. It has become my home and the industry that Nothingness creates suits me far more than Acedia." With that, the Architect gave him the black key, that melted into a pair of silver gauntlets on his touch. "Thank you, Mother. I will not disappoint you."
Before he turned to leave she handed him the key of the Lower House, "give this to your brother, I know he does not have the energy to come and meet me after his earlier outburst," said the Architect, placing an edge on the command that would have made even her surly mirror quiver.
With the ceremony done, she walked through her children to the Front Door. As she placed her hand on the handle Avaritia cried out, "who will have control of the House as a whole, Mother?"
"Not him, surely," spat Invidia.
The Architect laughed softly to herself, knowing that destiny was probably with her on this one, "No, dear, the House shall be held by no one until my return, you will find that in the Will." With that she flung open the door and stepped out into the darkness.
The Sins turned to each other. Avaritia smiled and spread his hands open, "It is a new era, siblings, and I have become bored of my name, I think new ones are in order."