Chapter Text
The Moirai were ecstatic, not only the ones from this world but the one from the next as well.
They watched in excitement as the Moirai of this world patiently explained to Apollo, their little light was alive, the reason they were taking them away, giving them away.
Not only had they been able to convince these versions of themselves but 'pollo came to them and agreed! Such a smart little miracle, and so cooperative too.
Their blood did boil upon hearing what he had gone through, what all of them had gone through. But it quickly subsided when they realized that they were being given the very children listed! This universe, these sorry excuses for gods, did not deserve what they had lost.
They watched as each string was clipped, cut, and carefully arranged into small cloth bags. So many miracles.
Atropos approached slowly and in full view of the Moirai of this world "So I take it you accept our offer?" She tried hard to keep the unrivaled joy from her voice as she approached them.
"We have, on one condition," Their Atropos responded "don't let your gods become like ours."
Atropos smiled, "of course, we want for nothing less." She said as she reached for the small bags. Each was placed gently in her arms.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched her sister Clotho gently lift Apollon into her arms. The boy didn't make much of a fuss, probably due to the fact that he could not move.
They smiled and bowed to the Moirai of this world.
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Clotho set 'pollo next to her as her sisters inspected the new godlings. Leaning him onto her side.
"Let's set aside these for now." Atropos said as she moved the God's threads to the side. "Let's start with the first bag, shall we."
She pulled from the first bag setting each string carefully in the middle of the room. There was an electric blue.
Lachesis rolled the string in between her fingers.
Next, was a deep rich purple with warm pink woven in, then a red spool. a lavender string, with small jewels braider. Then, a dark green that smelled of burnt wood. Finally, a sea green string interwoven with gold.
Clotho pushed the second bag to her sisters. As she pulled the large golden one towards herself and Apollon
A deep pomegranate color, A dark purple and a lighter one were intertwined together, A coppery red string, one of Forest green. And finally two strings of tan.
Clotho pulled a few strings out of the bag and gently laid the strings in Apollo’s arms. His son's sunshine yellow, Will, (15) his healer. Austin (14) his musician, his daughter Kayla (15). Then the two of his fallen sons; sunset yellow, Lee (16) and sunset orange, Michael (16).
There were more still in the bag but it probably was not a good idea to have him juggle more.
They were silent as her sisters organized the strings into little groups.
“Now for the curses.” Atropos spoke as she opened the last bag she had set aside.
She felt the concern radiate off Apollon as he moved (as much as he could) to shield the strings in his arms.
“Apollo, the curse will only be for the gods,” she soothed, “we need to give you a curse or our Kronos will.”
Atropos cleared her throat as she pointed at each string in turn “‘Pollo, will fade every time the sun sets,”
“Hermes will have narcolepsy, just so we know he'll sleep this time,”
“Dionysus could use a little more madness,”
“Hebe won't be able to hold her age, but always under 18,”
“Kym, won't be able to direct her wrath, it will still do damage, but won't harm who she wishes to.”
Clotho ran her hand through Apollo's hair, “the curses will go away once you settle into your domains in our world.”