3

Under Olympus in the realm of the Tartarus

Deep in the underbelly of the realm of Hades lived the fates, three old crones whom even the gods feared save one. Years had passed in the realms of man while the Queen of Olympus journeyed to their sullen realm. The three crones didn't look up as the queen of the Olympians entered their chambers. They sat lounging beside a pool of murky water. Before the queen could speak, the middle crone cleared her throat.

"We have a visitor, dear sisters," the middle crone rasped.

The two crones on either side slowly turned their gazes to Hera. The queen stopped in her tracks, halting just out of reach of the witch's grasp.

"Wise move for a foolish queen," the three crackled in unison.

Hera stood tall despite her powerlessness in front of the fates. The fates looked at one another, greatly amused by the queen's defiance.

"So what brings you us, most unlove queen of Olympus," the first crone cackled.

Hera winced as the crones' words stung.

"You know why sister," the second crone added.

"She wants to see the girl…" the third crone hissed.

"Yes, the girl she wishes to send to her to the false god of Apokolips," the first crone answered.

The three witches shook their heads.

"Foolish woman," they mocked.

"Darkseid, slayer of gods," the second crone mused. "All shall fall if you send her to him. Is that what you wish? For the Void to consume us all…"

"For a husband who has always despised you," the third crone added.

Hera stared at the old witches, whose piercing gazes looked down at her with disgust. Though still a fool, the Olympian queen knew the fates' taunting words were meant to do. Once spoken, Hera's words couldn't be unheard; a dangerous thing to do before the all-powerful fates. But that are three old witches compared to a goddess? Hera narrowed her gaze as she pulled a peacock feather out of the air.

"Tell me what I need and I shall protect you from what is to come," Hera said through her teeth.

The three crones laughed, one after the other.

"She thinks she can protect us from what she is about to unleash upon our world," the third crone laughed.

"The slayer of gods cares not for your foolish games…" the first crone said.

"We have an agreement…"

"What are promises in the hands of one without a soul…" the second crone interjected. "And we have seen what his word truly means."

"Nothing," they say in unison.

Hera took a step back as the crones stood to their feet.

"I don't have time for your riddles," Hera hissed. "Show me the child and I shall spare your worthless lives from my wrath."

The three fates looked at each other before replying in unison.

"As you wish,"

Each crone reached into the murky water in front of them. Their eyes began to illuminate as they opened their mouths. Without moving their lips, a guttural chant flowed from them. So horrid were their screams that the queen of the gods covered her ears. Unable to block out the sound of their voices, the queen of Olympus crumpled to her knees. Their unhinged chanting grew more guttural as the first crone pulled out a single golden thread. Laced between their fingers, the crones cried out.

"Child of Zeus," they shrieked. "Beauty and strength shall be her gifts…"

Hera struggled to lift her head as an image of a young girl appeared before her. The child had floor-length raven hair. She sat alone in a room filled with treasure. With her knees to her chest, the poor child reached out for the woman and wept as she called.

"Please let me out… I'll be good..."

Hera smiled as the child's cries fell on deaf ears as the guard closed the massive door without acknowledging the child's presence.

"Your suffering has only begun, bastard of my husband," Hera muttered gleefully.

The crone's tune changed as the child grew before Hera's eyes. A weeping child turned into a radiant beauty whose beauty rivaled her own. Blessed with olive skin and raven hair, the grown girl sat alone once more in the darkness.

"Jealous…" their voices echoed.

"Silence!"

"As you wish…" they cooed.

The third crone released the thread and pulled something from underneath their robes, a small square box.

"If you truly wish to go down this path," the crones continued. "Then place this in the waters."

Hera looked at the crones puzzled.

"What is it?"

"Bait," the crones replied.

Hera looked between the three old witches, skeptical of their words.

"Place it in there yourselves," Hera answered.

"So be it…"

The third crone tossed the cube into the water. Slowly, it sank through the water. Downwards it fell until it landed in the treasure room with the girl.

"It is done," they said in unison. "You may take your leave…"

The three women pointed to the pathway in which Hera entered their chambers. Hera watched as the image of the girl began to fade. She panicked.

"How will I know when she fell for the bait?" Hera asked as the old crone took their seats once more.

They laughed, "When you hear the wails of the Amazonian queen. NOW GO!"

The crones' voices echoed throughout their chambers. Hera knew her time before them was up so she thanked them before leaving.

"Thank you for your time,"

The three crones looked at one another before they started to laugh.

"Our time is beyond your comprehension, unloved queen," they said one after the other. "Heed our warning if you truly wish to honor us. Let the child live and you shall be spared from his wrath."

Hera was taken aback by their words.

"I fear not my unfaithful husband nor Darkseid," Hera replied.

"We speak of dark sun," they cackled.

"There is no such thing,"

"Then your fate is sealed, Hera of Olympus," they continued. "He shall wipe you from existence for what you have done."

Hera stood to her feet and bowed to the crones.

"I have protectors," she said as she turned to leave. "They shall protect me…"

The crones watched Hera leave their presence in a rage.

"May he have mercy on us all…"

4

"As long as she believes the child is no more…"

The golden queen's words hung like a fog over Themyscira as the faint cries of the babe grew silent. Time passed on the island as if no child of Zeus was ever born. No one in the palace spoke of the child nor did the queen. Once the babe was locked away the queen's indiscretion was locked away with her. All was quiet until the queen's yearly visit to where her daughter was imprisoned.

The child remembered it well, the first time she saw her mother. She recalled an unfamiliar face with golden hair standing in the middle of the massive door that let the light in. The sound of the old door woke her. As she wiped the sleep from her eyes, she saw her. A woman called Queen. The child stumbled toward the golden woman with hope in her heart. Yet in turn, she was met with women holding spears.

Fear gripped the child as she cried and cried for someone to touch her. To hold her, to love her yet, no one did. The golden queen merely stood at the entrance and watched behind her guards.

As time passed, the queen grew weary of seeing her daughter rioting in her golden prison so, the visitations stopped. The girl noticed only the woman called Philippa came. She asked of the golden woman and was told that the woman had died.

"Did she give me a name?" the girl asked.

Philippa shook her head and said no before leaving. The girl understood from that moment on that she was alone. One day, the girl overheard Philippa refer to her as Kóre. She knew not the words meaning but she liked the sound of it. So she began to refer to herself by that name. A part of her hoped the golden woman gave her that name before she died but she never asked. Fear held a tight grip on her on such matters. She remembered the golden woman telling her to not ask about where the light came from.

"The light was dangerous," she warned. "Remaining here will keep you safe my..."

The golden-haired woman's words rang in the girl's ears each time the thought of escaping crossed her mind. What might the light do to her? Until one day, a gift fell from the skies.

Themyscira 25 years later, the treasury.

The box the third crone tossed into the water tumbled through the ether until it landed in the treasury of Themycria.

Crash!

With a loud bang, the box crashed into the marble floor of the treasury awakening the sleeping woman within. The young woman looked about in the darkness for the sound matched neither the sound of footprints nor the old creak of the doors that kept her imprisoned.

"Hello?" the woman said into the darkness.

Her gentle voice was met with silence.

"... is someone there?"

Clink, clink, boom!

The sound of an explosion broke through the darkness. The woman immediately turned in the direction of the sound and reached for her golden spear. The woman's eyes grew wide as she saw a pillar of light rise to the ceiling. Like a beckon, the woman was drawn toward the light. Walking in the direction of the bright light flash, she saw a glowing square box in the middle of the treasury. The box was riddled with holes and emitted red smoke from each.

"What an odd object," she thought.

The young woman had memorized every item in the treasury by heart. Whatever was before her was something new. The real question was but from where. As the woman turned to see where the item may have come from, a voice as soft as a whistling wind called out.

"Touch it, child," it cooed

The woman took a few steps back from the box as she heard the unfamiliar voice speak.

"Who's there?" she asked, tightening her grip on the spear in her hand.

"...Freedom…" the voice cooed. "Touch it…"

Turning around in a circle, the woman took a defensive position.

"Show yourself vile spirit!"

"I offer your freedom and I am a vile spirit," the voice replied.

"If you aren't an evil spirit, then show yourself!" the young woman ordered.

"I am one of three," the voice replied.

As the voice spoke, an image of a feeble old woman appeared. She reached down and picked up the box from the ground.

"Better Diana?" the old woman asked.

"Who is that?"

The old woman laughed, "You poor child."

The young woman lowered the spear in her hand.

"I have no name, but Kóre," the young woman replied.

The old woman smirked as she walked closer to the young woman. Extending her hand out, the old woman offered the young woman the box in her hand.

"I know a great many things about you Diana," the old woman continued. "Take the box and I shall show you the sun."

The young woman hesitated as the old woman lifted the box to her face.

"The light is dangerous," the young woman replied.

The old woman's hand clamped down on the box. It let out a low hiss as a portal started to open behind her. A bright light showed through the portal blinding the young woman. Shielding her eyes, the young woman looked away from the light.

"It won't harm you, child see…"

The old woman reached out for the young woman's arm. Latching onto her, the young opened her eyes. Still blinded by the light, the young woman noticed the old haggard woman had vanished. Yet when she looked down, someone else was holding her arm.