Alarmed, Judas let out a cry.
“It is okay, Judas. That is part of the process. Jo will recover shortly.” Kelly stepped forward to take her mother’s hand. When their palms touched, an aura of silver glowed around their bodies and a breeze lifted strands of their long hair. An old melody, long forgotten, played through the room, and in it, the details of Sir Thomas’s life were shared. When the song ended, Kelly spoke in a similarly hollow voice. “I find the betrayer, Judas, to be absolved from the sins of his betrayal.”
The colors and wind died when the connection broke, and Kelly slipped to the floor in a heap.
Casey approached Atropos with caution, stepping over her sisters’ prone bodies. She glanced at Judas. The old woman’s wrinkled hands enveloped Casey’s youthful ones, and a gasp tore from her throat. An impenetrable beam of shimmering white light spilled from her lips. The old woman watched as the scenes, one after another, flashed onto the light beam. Lieutenant Thomas, as he had been known, had been quite the life lesson, it turned out. His hands on Casey’s pregnant stomach, her lips pressing softly upon his, anger furrowing his brow when his brother approached on a stallion that should have belonged to Thomas. Judas couldn’t tamp down the emotions that threatened to reignite.
His heart beat erratically, and he couldn’t catch his breath. More scenes filtered from Casey’s mouth. His father sitting behind a desk. It was the moment he told Thomas his life meant nothing, that his brother would inherit Thomas’s childhood home, would go to college, would always be more, and he would be less. Casey’s sobbing form when she lost their first child. It was too much.
“Stop!” he cried. “Please, stop.”
But, Judas’s pleas were ignored. Atropos watched, her eyes taking in everything, sharp as the eye of a hawk despite her age. Then came the images of their son, of their son with another man as his father, and Casey as another man’s wife. It damn near killed Judas to behold.
With a loud boom, Casey’s mouth snapped shut, and the light show was over. The images were burnt into his mind, and his body shook from the visual assault. Sure, she had told him about marrying their neighbor, but seeing it was more than Judas could bear.
Atropos squeezed Casey’s hand as if awakening her. Instead of coming back to life, she fell into a similar trance, her voice ringing out strong and sure, nothing like the sweet voice he was used to. “I find the betrayer, Judas Iscariot, redeemed.” Casey collapsed immediately next to her sisters. Before she fell, Judas lunged forward to try to catch her, but an invisible force pinned him against an equally invisible wall.
“Do not move!” said another of the old women. She was taller than the other two and very thin, missing the fingernail on the digit she extended. “I am Clotho, and you will show my sister respect!”
His upper lip shook with exertion. It was as if his body was being crushed, and he couldn’t lift the weight off it. “I am sorry.” It rasped out between difficult breaths.
“Release him,” Atropos ordered quietly, and Clotho waved her hand toward Judas. He fell to his knees, gasping for air. The skin at his neck felt hot, as though hands had choked him. Those three wrinkled hags were perhaps more powerful than their daughters. I would be wise to be cautious.
The third of the elderly women spoke. “We have a majority, but would like to hear from our final two daughters.”
“I agree, Lachesis.” Atropos motioned to Nichole. “It is your turn.”
She stepped forward, placing her hand within the woman’s. “Mother,” Nichole said with a smile.
As soon as their hands connected, the light show began, bouncing off each other and creating a screen effect where they crossed. Images of Nichole in the dark alley, a brute’s arms roughly forcing her farther back. The bruises Tommy tended, the dance they shared, and the quiet cab ride home. Then Frankie, a boy so filled with life he was impossible not to love. Images of the family they would become, the love they shared, and how happy they were together made Judas smile, but it didn’t last long. The wonders they shared passed all too quickly to reveal the horrors.
His stomach tightened with anger and sadness at the image of Capone and his men. What they had done to Nichole’s landlady—that poor woman—and how they had taken Frankie. Then later, what they had driven Tommy to do, and the loss he had suffered because of them. It ripped through him as if it were happening all over again.
While still holding Nichole’s hands, Atropos watched him closely, as did the other elders. He refrained from lashing out again, knowing it would be in vain. Bile rose in his throat, but he held it in, waiting to see what would happen next. Just as with her sisters before her, Nichole was awakened from the trance, her voice strong when she stated, “I find the betrayer, Judas, absolved of his sins.” Then, like the other three, she slipped into unconsciousness and melted to the floor.
Only one daughter was left standing, but she did not appear afraid. In fact, her expression was almost eager.
“Come here, child,” Atropos wheezed to the final sister.
When Tia stepped forward, she almost tripped over the pile of her sisters.
Atropos caught her daughter’s hands, with more strength than the old woman should have possessed, and held her child up. Although the smallest of the three mothers, not a single muscle bulged at the effort of lifting Tia.
Judas flinched, and a ribbon of awe tied itself around his middle at the herculean display.
“I am sorry, Mother.”
Again, the raspy snake voice issued forth. “I hope you are over your clumsiness.”
Like a scolded child, Tia nodded and stared at the floor while she grasped her mother’s hands, and the exchange began.
Tia’s head jerked back, her mouth fell agape, and dark scenes of alleys and poorly lit street corners flew from her as life regurgitated. Everything was so dark in comparison to the others’ memories, Judas struggled to see detailed images. Then, one flash of bright white followed by another gradually illuminated a particular scene, and it crept to the forefront.
Judas remembered it all too well. Cradling Tia in his arms, clutching her as she professed her love, he watched the light drain from her eyes and felt her body go limp. Then, a rage of loss erupted from T-Dogg as a guttural scream and reverberated throughout the space. Judas watched as his body jerked with the force of bullets ripping through his chest. Dark red liquid oozed down his shirt as he fell next to the lifeless form of his beloved.
Judas’s nails pierced the rugged skin of his palm, his fists clenched from the moment the image came forth, and a thin line of blood trickled past his wrists and around to his forearm. His hands shook as he unfurled his fingers. Deep creases—lifelines he was once told—were etched in crimson blood. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to witness another devastating moment from his lives. His heart constricted with pain and loss.
An eerie silence came over the room, and he lifted his lids with hesitation.
“You have come this far, do not succumb to your feelings now,” Atropos said, her voice an octave lower than the last time she spoke.
He knew what would come next as he saw Tia’s eyes flutter and the light within them begin to shine again. Her words would bring absolution or condemnation.
“What say you?” Atropos prodded when Tia hesitated, her eyes glued to Judas. Their connection seized his breathing as he awaited her judgment.
“I stand with my sisters and find the betrayer, Judas, absolved of his sins. “As she uttered the final word, her body collapsed onto another.
Judas pulsed with the need to take Tia into his arms and cradle her as he had done before, to gather each of his loves into his embrace, but Atropos waved her finger back and forth in front of him while clicking her tongue. “No, no, no. She will return to us. They all will. Do not fear. Do not lose your focus.
“All the judgments have been heard,” she said, her voice like a thousand knives drilling into his head. “Our daughters have found you to be redeemed. Do you have final words, betrayer?�
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He paled as her eyes pierced through him. All he could do was shake his head and tremble in fear. Five women lay on the floor in a heap, and he could do nothing to help them or himself. Gathering all his courage, he voiced the question that had been nagging at him since the memories of his first life were returned. “W… Why were you three charged with my fate? I held belief in the Christian God in my first life, and thought you three to be the creation of Pagan lunatics. Should it not have been His task to decide what should happen with my soul?”
Chuckling, Atropos turned the corners of her mouth up into a sneer. “Would you prefer the one who fathered the man you condemned to death to have the ultimate decision in your fate?”
Judas’s blood drained to his feet, and he felt his cheeks grow cold.
“He propositioned us to find another way, believing as He always does that His creations are redeemable. While you were the catalyst in His son’s demise, you were also one of the twelve, a recipient of Jesus’s teachings. You were, and are, a special case.”
Clotho and Lachesis cackled.
“Do you understand now, betrayer?”
He nodded and swallowed around a tongue that felt as though it had been dipped in sand.
“Then be silent, and let us complete our task.” Atropos turned back to her sisters. “We have seen and heard all there is. Do we give the power of the judgment over to our daughters in this most important trial?”
Lachesis was the one who answered. “This is what they were created to do. We do not have time to tend every life. I say, let it be as they deem. They are as wise as they are beautiful and terrible.”
Clotho nodded.
“You, Judas Iscariot, the betrayer, have been found redeemed.” Atropos clapped her hands, and the three old women disappeared.
As the light from the old ones’ exit faded, the five sisters awakened.
Judas rushed to them, helping them to their feet, embracing each one in turn. Once they were all standing, and he was assured they were fully recovered, he spoke. “Thank you for having forgiveness in your hearts. A man like me, who erred so egregiously, does not deserve your love. But I am grateful for it. Your mothers have accepted your council, and my soul has been freed. Because of all of you.”
Jo hugged him. “You are a good man. Everyone errs, but those with a pure heart find their way to redemption. Go, Judas, and let it end with peace.”
He embraced each of the remaining sisters one last time and turned in a circle, seeking an exit.
A path, full of light, with a riot of colors bouncing in circles, opened in the middle of the room and floated there. The scent of flowers filled the air, along with a sense of joy. Judas found himself being pulled toward the opening.
Casey blew him a kiss. “Goodbye, Judas.”
One foot in front of the other, he slowly walked into the spiraling mass of luminescence. As his body was consumed, he sighed. He was finally free.
The End
“Perhaps a mother’s greatest gift to the world is her offspring. Hope for the next generation.”
Fate of the Fates
The Fates, known to most as Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, controlled the lives and destinies of mortals. Although the goddesses had a most important job, they grew weary of it and each other. What they longed for most was to give life from their own flesh and blood. Atropos, especially, longed for this, for she was the one to take it from mankind.
On a particularly cold and bleak evening, the goddesses huddled near the hearth, rubbing their arms to find warmth and discussing their bleak lives.
Clotho, tired of always complaining about things and not taking action, rose and paced while she chastised her sisters. “Why can we not control our own fate? What is stopping us from creating daughters of our own? On this eve, we shall do just that.”
She crossed to the mantle and brought down a beautiful box, carved from ivory and accented with gold. With a gentle caress of the cover, she lifted the lid and pulled out three golden strings.
Lachesis gasped. “We must use our lifelines?”
With a gentle smile, Clotho nodded at her sister. “How else can we give life except through our own? Giving over a piece of one’s body is how the mortals do it, though their process is a lot messier. We shall do the same.”
Atropos, eager to bring forth hope rather than instill fear, took her lifeline from her sister and cut three even pieces. While the other two watched, a ribbon of Atropos’s silky raven hair turned white, and she winced. Unbothered beyond the spark of pain, she clutched the three segments to her heart and handed the remainder of the string back to her sister to place in the box.
Encouraged by their sister’s brave act, Clotho and Lachesis each cut a segment from their lines, similar in length to the ones Atropos cuddled.
Clotho cried out when she cut her line and a fingernail fell off her left hand.
“There must be pain in order for us to feel indebted to our creations, as you mentioned,” Atropos said. “Lachesis, are you well?”
Lachesis’s arms were wrapped tightly around her abdomen, but she nodded.
“Then, let us proceed.”
The sisters dropped the five segments in a boiling pot, and Lachesis stirred.
The liquid changed from black tar to shimmery, silvery ichor, and a scent filled the air that was both floral and joyful. Music, encapsulating all the orchestral instruments, flowed from an unknown source and filled the room.
“You first,” Clotho whispered to Atropos. “You were the bravest one.”
Atropos rested her hands on the side of the cauldron and peered in. The heat did not scald her; as a goddess, she was immune to such mortal dangers. “My daughters.” She spoke in hushed tones. “You will be fair and wise. Mankind accuses me of being unjust, not allowing them to choose their own destiny. I give you as a gift to them, to guide them, and to help them make wise decisions.”
In response, the liquid bubbled and sizzled. Three silver spheres rose and floated into the waiting arms of their mother. With a gentle pop, the globes morphed into three beautiful baby girls.
Holding up the first baby with downy, white blonde hair, Atropos said, “I name you Nichole, and you will be the harbinger of peace. When mortal souls tremble with bitterness and rage, you will bring them the gift to forgive and let go of resentment and regret.”
She held up the second baby, whose head was adorned with bountiful curls, and kissed her plump, rosy cheeks. “You, my darling, I name Casey, and your gift is generosity. When man finds himself laden with greed and envy, you will encourage him to share what he has, celebrate the success of others, and be richer for it.”
The last baby she cuddled close, breathing in her sweet scent. “Darling daughter, I name you Kelly. Modesty will be your path. When talents grow and hearts boast with pride, you will be the whisper in the wind that keeps man true.”
A large wooden crib shimmered into existence, and Atropos gently laid her daughters inside. The babies cooed and squirmed before settling into sleep, their arms wound tightly around one another. Their mother beamed. “They are already so graceful and loving.”
“I am next!” Lachesis called with glee. She gripped the pot in excitement and anticipation. “My job is to determine a soul’s worth, its length in the mortal world. For my daughter, I grant her faithfulness to guide mankind through the journey, no matter how long or short.”
Another bubble rose from the cauldron. Like before, this one landed gently in the arms of its mother. This time, revealing a cherubic girl with soft, dark wisps upon her head. Placing a gentle kiss on the baby’s forehead, Lachesis pronounced, “I name you Tia. Your steadfast ways will help those who struggle with commitment stay the course and find their dedication. You shall be the savior of so many souls.”
The baby gurgled as if to agree, and the sisters gasped in response. The two new mothers turned their expectant eyes to Clotho, who trembled as she stepped up to the large kettle.
“It is my joy
and burden to spin the threads of human life. I do this knowing, at some point, the spool holding that existence will run out of room. This job requires discipline and strength of heart, the same qualities I wish for in my offspring. To you, my daughter, I request self-control, that you may know your role in this world and adhere to it.”
On a light sigh, the liquid released its final gift. As the sphere floated to Clotho’s waiting arms, the women watched the silver mixture dull to a sickly gray. It would give no more life.
And yet, as the last bubble popped and the baby gave a healthy cry, the sisters laughed.
“Jo,” Clotho declared. “You will be strong when the mortals you assist are weak. Your self-control will allow you to encourage them to work hard, becoming their backbones when they feel they cannot continue, and never to partake in more than they need to sustain life.”
As the newest babies settled in with their sisters, the women sighed with satisfaction. Their wish had been fulfilled. They were now mothers, and their daughters would grow to help mankind.
Clotho stared at the infants. “We need a way to draw them back once we have put them on one path or another. Something that will keep them rooted in their true selves and remind them of their tasks.”
The women sat around the fire and discussed what gift they could bestow.
Lachesis snapped her bony fingers. “Silver. We should bestow upon them necklaces, made from the purest silver, with their antitheses etched on small bars. While the charms will appear blank when in the human realm, their reminders will burn brightly. Once the girls return home, the words will become visible.”
“Silver is perfect. It will match their eyes when they are in goddess form. I will conjure the metal,” Atropos said.
“I will enchant them so they grow as our daughters do and always remain the perfect size,” Clotho said.
Lachesis felt she needed to add her contribution. “I will infuse the metal with our blood, so the girls always feel us close by.”
All the women nodded and set to work.
7: The Seven Deadly Sins Page 23
