The Moirae.

The sister Fates.

Clotho, who spun the thread.

Lachesis, who measured the thread.

Atropos, who cut the thread.

Eternal.

Trapped inside the body of a mutant after angering the Lord Scania. Eternally. The Lord Scania rules all, but none rules Lord Scania. The Grim Reaper shall execute, in the form of a monster.

The Horntail.

Extracted from records of the Unspeakable Ones. The 627th year of the rule of Lord Scania.


The beast sits- invincible, immovable. Her eyes are closed. She would rather not see the blood-stained crystals in it's abode, or hear the constant dripping sound of blood from the crystals to the ground.

Instead she focuses on a tiny object- almost negligible in his great eyes. A beautiful, ruby-red pendant.

A single tear flows from all three counterparts of the beast.

Respectively, they are Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos.

As a collective self, they are the Moirae of the Horntail family.

But there was another who went by that name- a little girl with pretty blonde hair and crimson red eyes. So long ago. The Moirae shed another tear for the girl.

They were called Horntail.

She was called Moira.


Demon child!

Devil!

Burn her- by Scania, she does not deserve to live!

No, my child!

Lakelis fled from her Ellinian home, hugging her small bundle of life close to her chest. The toddler giggled and her unnatural crimson eyes twinkled with joy. Lakelis smiled down at the little girl, stopping and hiding behind a tree.

'Where is she?!'

Lakelis' pupils dilated with fear. Not now! Not here. She took out her staff and muttered a few incantations. If a fellow mage had been there, the mage might have noticed the beginning strands of a teleportation spell.

A sharp-eared archer heard her voice and spotted her. `

'There she is! Get her!'

Not now. The teleportation spell hasn't been finished- dear Scania, I need to send her to Spiruna. Please-

An arrow shot the tree next to her.

I'm sorry, child- so sorry. I can only put you in the hands of the fates.

With a final flourish of the staff, Lakelis broke off from what was left of her spell, instead shouting the final word immediately.

'Moirae.'


The Horntail reared it's ugly head when they were disturbed in their favourite activity- sleeping. All of the heads turned to the brief flash of intense light.

A wisp of blonde hair…

Atropos recognized the signs immediately.

Clotho, Lachesis! A human- be on guard.

Even young, the Horntail was a wary being. Their few encounters with human had ended in the various pools of blood still gathered on the floor. They were quite prepared for more blood to run down the crystal walls.

'Foolish human, why do you come to challenge us?'

The human stirred, and the white cloth covering her burst into flame. The Moirae watched disinterestedly. If the human wanted to burn itself to death, so be it. A child stood up when the cloth had disappeared with a flash of fire.

She was a child, she was so petite, and she had hair of gold and eyes of flowing blood. And the Moirae thought that she was the most beautiful creature in the world.

Their murderous intent faded, replaced by gentle curiousity.

'Hello, little child,' they crooned. 'Why are you here? Where is your mother?'

The toddler smiled and gurgled nonsense back at the Horntail. She had yet to learn to speak. But there was something else about her…

The toddler reached up for a hug. Surprised, they extended a hand to the child and watched curiously as she hugged their knuckle.

The Moirae smiled approvingly.

This child, she has the scent of blood on her. And she is not afraid.


They called her Moira, after themselves. She had the potential to become a tinker mage- she enjoyed crafting the crystals and ores she found strewn around the cave into miniature statues of the Horntail with her fire powers.

'Happy birthday, Atropos, Lachesis, Clotho!'

She smiled happily at the monster, not at all intimidated by its' domineering presence. Of course, this wasn't actually the birthday of the Moirae. Just a day that she chose. How she knew about the quaint human tradition when she had been living with monsters for almost all of her life, only Scania knows.

Moira giggled, her hands still concealing the object behind her back. The horntail smiled indulgently at her antics.

'Come now, Moira. The suspense is terrible.' Atropos mock-sighed.

'Indeed, Moira. Is this how you repay us?' Lachesis chimed in, her bell-like voice sounding strangely ethereal coming from her mutant body.

Moira shook her head and smiled. She held out three beautiful pendants- a ruby was embedded in the center surrounded by delicately-twisted strands of gold. The Moirae were impressed.

'It's beautiful, Moira. If I could cry, I would.' Clotho whispered in barely-disguised delight. The Moirae took the pendants and gazed at them as if they were some godlike object they dared not touch.

'Look closer at the ruby. I've added something extra.' Moira grinned at them, happy that they liked the gift.

The Moirae squinted at the tiny pendants, then let out shrieking laughs.

'Moira…'

The girl in question beamed happily at them.

All was well.

Now, that was just tempting the Fates, wasn't it?


Harsh panting.

Eyes widened in terror.

The smell of blood thick in the air.

Moira watched with tears in her eyes as Atropos, Clotho and Lachesis battled the immense group of people. The salty liquid was streaked all over her doll-like face and her fists were clenched.

Why can't they just die already? Why did they have to come?

There was a bellow from Lachesis as a warrior stuck his spear in her eye, but Atropos retaliated for her by biting the warrior's Zakum helmet and flinging him across the cave. He died swiftly- his body impaled by the crystals that sprouted everywhere in the cave.

Moira watched from her hiding space as her fellow humans slaughtered the monsters who had been her immediate family.

You're helpless.

Clothos fell.

You're useless.

Lachesis fell.

And you're going to die.

Atropos followed them both to hell.

The humans dug around in the remains of the Moirae three, chuckling as they boasted to each other of their success. A Dragon Knight rummaged around and picked up something golden and crimson.

Moira gasped- a desperate sound that was not unheard by the entire group. Their eyes zoned in on her hiding place, and an archer dragged her out.

'Who. Are. You.' He asked, sneering arrogantly at her.

Moira did not look at him, instead focusing on the Dragon Knight who had by now found all three of the beautiful pendants. He smirked as he headed out of the portal, unknowing that a certain girl was about to throw himself after him.

'Not so fast, kid. Who the hell are yo- Holy shi-'

Moira glared at them, her stormy grey eyes bleeding crimson. Trickles of fire began to leak from her, spreading like hellfire across the ground, through the crystals and towards the humans.

'Wait, you're that hell-child who burnt down Henesys! I recognize you.' The archer spat. 'Do you know,' he smirked, 'that I killed your mother?'

Moira smiled sweetly at him as her fire began to devour the nearest members of the group.

'Is that so, bowmaster? How proud you must be.'

A tiny flicker of flame leapt from her hand to his body. His eyes widened as he watched the grotesque scene of his body being burnt up. Moira grinned happily as the smell of charred flesh filled the cave.

Several members of the cave began screaming.

And Moira laughed, laughed, laughed. Laughed as the flames devoured them. With one last look at the flaming cave, she flung herself out into the closing portal.

Clothos fell.
Lachesis fell.
Atropos followed them both to hell.


Moira clutched the travelers' hands as they looked at her with eyes full of pity.

'You have to defeat Horntail! Its' darkness is suffocating our lands… We have to stop it!'

The travelers promised tearfully that they would defeat Horntail for her. Feeling recharged and chivalrous, the motley crew of hermits, dragon knights, archers and priests stormed into Horntail's lair.

To their deaths, Moira hoped. Leaning back into the cage of bones, she smirked.

She owed Clothos, Lachesis and Atropos that much. How on earth would she know that they'd regenerate? Ah, well. Maybe she'd visit them later and apologize for destroying the cave.

Moira grinned as she sang her song.

Clotho fell

Lachesis fell,

Atropos followed them both to hell.

Lord Scania cast his final spell.

And Moira waved them all farewell.


The Dragon Knight smiled to himself as he studied the pendant again. He was no mage, but he could feel intense power radiating from it. It'd earn a pretty penny in the Free Market for looks alone.

As he looked closer, he could something strange.

There was a little girl's image on the ruby, holding hands with three beautiful women. He blinked- he hadn't seen it there before. He rubbed the ruby and the images of the women disappeared, but the girl remained.

His eyes widened and his hands suddenly went to his throat, crushing his windpipe, blocking any traces of air from getting through. He fought for control over his body, but he was losing, losing, losing.

What is this? What the-

The ghostly girl in the ruby smiled at him, and he dropped the pendant immediately as if it was on fire.

Thief, thief, thief.

Clotho fell,

Lachesis fell,

Atropos followed them both to hell.

Lord Scania cast his final spell.

And Moira waved them all farewell.

Thieves of the Fates will hear our death knell.

Pilfering hearts and lustful souls

Throughout the lands are cursed to roam.


It is said that after departing the cave, Moira lived a short life. The curse of the Horntail's pendant faded with time. It was deemed safe to wear. People defeated Horntail, people acquired the pendants. But not one noticed the single important feature of the beautiful jewel.

The ghostly image of the girl was smiling.

Wickedly.


fin.