The old gods are dead.
“Oh what a grandiose lie,” says a girl dressed in green.
“Indeed,” says the girl in black.
“Almost too big to believe,” agrees the third in purple.
“I think humans just like the drama,” says a new voice, surprising the three girls. They all get up at once and assemble in a line before the newcomer. “Oh, there’s no need for that girls,” the woman glides past them to look at the table they had previously surrounded.
“Pretty neat, hu?” gloats the girl in green, flopping back into a plush chair.
“We designed it ourselves,” says the one in black timidly.
“Do you think it will work?” asks the one in purple.
The woman pressed a finger to her chin, considering, “Explain this to me,” she said, pointing to a section of one of the sheets of paper spread about the table in methodic chaos.
“Shouldn’t you-” the girl in green was cut off by a look from the woman.
The girl in black cleared her throat, “That’s the fail safe. If something goes wrong, that bit there will minimize the damage.”
“Do you really have so little confidence?” The woman asked, circling around to the other side of the table to overlook the rest of the plans.
The girl in purple spoke up, “What my triplets were trying to explain is, without your power backing us, we, as mortals, could make a mistake.”
The woman straightened abruptly, momentarily splitting into three separate beings, “See to it that you don’t make that mistake.”
“Yes my lady,” said all three at once.
The girl in green stood from her position lounged on the chair to stand beside her patron, “Will it work then? If we don’t mess up?”
The woman eyed her, then her sisters, “I shan't say either way.”
The girl in black spoke up from where she was scribbling notes on a sheet of paper, “Will you give us what we need then?”
The woman looked to the girl in purple, “Persuade me.”
“You want the fates to fall as much as we do, my lady.”
The girl in green made a noise of frustration, throwing her hands in the air, “You’ve said so over and over again. You asked us to design the spell for the Earth’s sake!”
The woman nodded, “Alright, I’ll give you what you need.”
She vanished, a fog falling to the floor where she stood, and when it cleared, in her place the sisters found a pair of identical torches, alite with green flames. They shared a look. The girl in black took the torches from the floor.
Three figures stood together just before the break of dawn. All of them identical in every way from their grey robes to their faces, they took a collective breath. With two of them holding the torches of Hecate, one each, the third began the spell.
By the time the sun’s first rays peeked over the horizon, the triplets had acquired the powers of the three fates of myth. This time, when the once-mocked words were spoken, they were true. The old gods are dead.