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The Sea Wolf

By: Orioles2131

Prologue

The darkness of the room was only broken up by the flames dancing in the fire pit in the center of the hut. Three elderly women sit around it knitting with bright different colored wools. Oddly radiating a strong aura of power from both the old ladies and the wool itself. An eerie silence is filling the hut as the only sounds are of the knitting needles tapping off of each other.

A pounding on the outside of the hut causes the three women to look up. Turing their eyes which seem to radiate knowledge and power.

The middle one turning her head turns towards the door to the hut. "Come in, we've been expecting you." Her raspy voice sounds more like a whisper in the wind as she speaks.

The door opens as a tall man enters the hut. His skin the color of pale ash stands out in stark contrast to the darkness of the rest of the hut. His eyes swirling like a searing bright red and orange flame eye in the fire in the middle of the hut. Taking in a deep breath the fire seems to call out to him as it lurches towards him as he breathes. An abrupt cough from the sister in the middle wielding the shears ends the consumption of the flame. As he instead breathes out allowing the fire to retake its place in the pit.

The sister on the right turns to the man as his sister continues to measure the wool for the next life to be measured. "Ah yes, young R'hllor what can we do for you?" While her eldest sister had a voice of a raspy old grandmother, one that is a sign of things to end. The middle one had a voice of boredom. As if this is a task for her to do and that's it.

Lowering his head in a greeting he stares down at the cold stone floor beneath him. "I'm sorry to interrupt my ladies but I have an urgent request from you."

The third sister slowly turns her attention from the wool she was closely turning over in order to be knit into the strings. "And what request does the so-called Lord of Light ask of us?" Her voice unlike her older sisters was one of kindness and caring. More like a mother talking to a newborn child than anything.

"Well, my ladies, I'm hoping to talk to you about the prophecy that is coming to fruition over in the realm of Planetos." His eyes fires rage with a look of hope as he stares down the Moirai.

The eldest sister with her raspy voice stares down the God of Light. "The prophecy will end when it ends. The end has been written by us. What more could you ask for?

As R'hllor begins his rebuttal the younger sister shoots him a look of silence. Taking the cue he simmers down for a moment as the younger sister looks her older one over. "Now, now sister. The prophecy is coming, and we already have an idea of who to use."

The sister on the right speaks up as she continues to knit together the wool. "Well Sisters, it's quite simple why he crossed realms to come to see us." Her boredom is now teetering on the side of tiredness. "He wants a say on who will fulfill the prophecy." Yawning now she leans back in her chair with a complete look of apathy on her face.

"Is that true young one?" The raspy-voiced sister breathes out as she sets her shears to the side of her. Leaning in close to the fire it begins to illuminate her skin. Ashen grey and covered in more wrinkles than what R'hllor thought was possible. "Do you think that you know more of fate than us? Are you that petulant to think that We The Fates don't know what will happen well enough?"

Taking a step back from the eldest fate R'hllor's eyes light ablaze with unbridled fury. The fire pit roars and grows up touching the ceiling of the hut. "You dare accuse me of that? This prophecy is for the fate of the realm that I am sworn to protect?"

Sensing the rising tension, the youngest sister reaches out to R'hllor and they disappear in a bright white flash. "Stupid Clotho." The eldest sister's voice rasps out throughout the now completely dark hut. "She cares too much about these beings and people It's clouding her of her duties."

Meanwhile in a flash of white Clotho and R'hllor appear now in an open vast field. The field between realms. "We don't have a lot of time to talk before my sisters come. I've already helped you some. I've already decided who will be the Hero. He will be one of the greatest heroes this realm will ever see."

Bowing to the Fate before him R'hllor thanks her for the care she is putting in. "Thank you, my lady. The realm won't fall because of your generosity tonight."

Shooting the god, a smile Clotho motions for him to rise. "No need to thank me, remember I have stakes in this fight as well. If the realms continue to fall, I can't continue my job. But go quickly my sister's wont be happy about this and will certainly wreak havoc in the life of the chosen."

Bowing and vanishing in a bright rush of flame the Lord of Light disappears leaving just Clotho standing alone in the fields between realms.

"You know I would like to apologize to you now. I truly didn't mean for your life to come to this." Seemingly talking to herself as the light next to her begins to shimmer.

The shimmer ends as a teenage boy around the age of 18 is standing there holding a hat belonging to the New York Yankees. He looks extremely annoyed at the conversation he had to overhear. "Cut the shit lady. I just wish you didn't have to plan all the bad events in the multiverse to occur based around me."

Nodding her head in amusement at his attitude she gives him a sorry look at him. "I truly am sorry Perseus. But you have my word as one of the Fates. You will be finished up once this prophecy is finished up. This I swear on the Styx."

As thunder booms even between the realms Percy nods his head in acceptance. "Alright. Let's get this over with."

As Clotho reaches out a new strand of wool begins to appear. This one is grey mixed with specks of sea green as it gets longer and longer. But as the length of the wool increases the more faded Percy becomes before he fades from existence.

Bowing her head Clotho lets out a prayer for his safety. "Best of Luck young Demigod and I hope that my sisters are kind to you."

Percy opens his eyes as he begins to scream. The big woman clad in robes picks him up and begins to clean him off. "He's a beautiful boy, my lady. He truly takes after his lord father."

The mother, tired and caked in sweat, her orange hair clinging to her passes off the Baby she was already cradling to the man standing next to her. "Bring him to me, let me see my other son."

Passing her off to the Lady of the house she looks down at one of her newborn sons, her blue eyes meet his dark grey ones with swirls of sea green located in the. Smiling down at her son she welcomes him to the world. "Welcome to the world Perseus."