Lachesis: Dear Reader, we interrupt this tale to speak directly to you—not as the author, not as the narrator, but as the three who weave the threads of destiny itself. You have witnessed much darkness in these pages. Perhaps you are angry. Perhaps you are horrified. Perhaps you wish to throw this book into the fire and be done with it.
Atropos: We would not blame you. We have seen mortals do far worse when confronted with truths they cannot bear.
Clotho: But if you are still here, still reading, it is because you hope—as all mortals hope—for justice. For vengeance. For some cosmic reckoning that will set the scales right again.
Lachesis: And so we must pause here, at this darkest hour, to speak of what we are, what we do, and why we allow such suffering to exist in the threads we spin.
Clotho: I am Clotho, the Spinner. I spin the thread of life from my distaff onto my spindle. I determine when a mortal is born and when their thread begins.
Lachesis: I am Lachesis, the Allotter. I measure the thread with my rod, deciding its length, its direction, its purpose. I assign destinies—goodness or cruelty, beauty or ugliness, fortune or misfortune.
Atropos: I am Atropos, the Inflexible. I carry the shears that cut the thread when life must end. What I cut cannot be undone. Not by prayer. Not by pleading. Not even by the gods themselves.
Lachesis: Together, we are known as the Moirai—the Fates. We are older than Zeus, older than Olympus, older than the gods you worship. We are the daughters of Necessity, born of Themis, the Goddess of Divine Law and Order.
Atropos: Even Zeus bows to our decrees. Even immortal gods must submit to our design.
Clotho: You have heard stories of us—that we were once three lovely daughters, beautiful and fair. But as Time passed, we were depicted as ugly hags, cold and unmerciful.
Lachesis: Why? Because mortals fear what they cannot control. And they cannot control us.
Atropos: But we are not always deaf to the pleading of others. When I cut the thread of King Admetus, who was beloved by Apollo, the god begged us to undo our work. It was not in our power to do so—what is cut cannot be re-spun.
Clotho: But we promised that if someone took Admetus' place in the gloomy world of Hades' domain, he would live.
Lachesis: The king's wife, Alcestis, said she would take his place. But Hercules rescued her from the underworld, and Admetus and Alcestis were reunited.
All Three: You see? Even we can be moved by love. Even we can be swayed by sacrifice.
Lachesis: You think this story is about good versus evil. You think it is about revenge, or honor, or justice. But it is not. This tale is about only two elements and their concomitant association to one another: Time and Chance.
Clotho: Time—that non-spatial sequential continuum of forward movement. That continual second by second, moment by moment ticking in which events occur in irreversible succession from the past through the present and to the future.
Lachesis: Mortals can know the past and hopefully learn from it. They can adjust their reasoning in the present, gaining a clearer picture of the world around them and their place in it.
Atropos: But the future—that great beyond, that great unknown—remains ever and always veiled from mortal eyes. Even we cannot always see where the threads will lead once they are woven.
Clotho: And then there is Chance—the unknown, unpredictable element in all happenings. That which has no assignable or discernible cause. That which can neither be predicted nor controlled.
Lachesis: A force, sometimes sinister, sometimes good, that causes events mortals cannot foresee or manipulate.
Atropos: Chance and luck are often linked, but we do not believe in luck. One can be in the right place at the right time, or at the wrong place at the wrong time. That is not luck—that is Chance intersecting with Time.
Clotho: One thing is certain in dealing with life: nothing is certain! That is the great paradox mortals must accept.
Lachesis: Now we must speak of ourselves more directly—of Fate and Destiny. Elements that could fill entire volumes, yet remain as elusive as Time and Chance themselves.
Clotho: Each mortal is born with a portion of both good and evil. It is folly or wisdom that determines which wins out in the end.
Lachesis: I spin the thread. I measure its length and direction. I assign its purpose—but the mortal must walk the path.
Atropos: And when the time comes, I cut the thread. This is predestination—but not in the way mortals think. The end is fixed, but the journey is yours to make.
Clotho: Think of it as a chess game. You are pieces on the board, but you have will. You have choice within the moves we permit.
Lachesis: And here is where we must address human nature itself—in all its ugliness, horror, sublimity, and beauty. When we distill Time, Chance, Fate, and Destiny together, we get the essence of what it means to be human.
Atropos: And what is human nature, you ask?
Clotho: Is it permanent or impermanent?
Lachesis: Is it an essence that strives for happiness?
Atropos: Is it a road leading to pain, suffering, and death?
Clotho: Is it good? Is it evil?
Lachesis: Is it the ultimate struggle between light and darkness?
Atropos: Is it shaped by nature or by nurture?
Clotho: Is it divinely given, like free will?
Lachesis: Is it driven by base instinct in conflict with civilization?
Atropos: Does it spring from some collective unconscious, recurring in dreams and archetypes?
All Three: We do not know! And we are the Fates! All we know is that human nature exists, and all mortals are subjected to it—for better or worse.
Clotho: You have watched Elizabeth suffer. You have watched Edward struggle. You have watched Beaumont inflict cruelty upon cruelty. And you wonder: Where are we? Why do we allow this?
Lachesis: Consider: I spun Elizabeth's thread with beauty, talent, and charm. I assigned her goodness, kindness, and innocence. And yet she has endured violation, captivity, and horror.
Atropos: Why? Because the thread is not finished being woven.
Clotho: You see only this dark chapter. You do not see the pattern emerging on the loom.
Lachesis: You do not see how suffering can forge strength. You do not see how Fear and Shame can transform into Fortitude and Resilience.
Atropos: Elizabeth is not the same girl you met at the beginning of this tale. She has been changed—but not destroyed.
Clotho: She has been violated—but not broken.
Lachesis: She has been imprisoned—but she is planning her escape.
Atropos: That is the thread we are weaving. Steel forged in fire. A soul tested and emerging stronger.
Clotho: We cannot undo what Beaumont has done. Even we cannot turn back Time.
Lachesis: But we can decide what comes next. And we have decided that Elizabeth's thread is not yet ready to be cut.
Atropos: Her destiny is not yet fulfilled.
Clotho: So we ask you, dear reader: Will you continue?
Lachesis: Will you see her story through to its end?
Atropos: Or will you abandon her now, in her darkest hour, when she needs witnesses most?
Clotho: You came this far seeking justice. Seeking vengeance. Seeking some punishment for Beaumont's cruelty.
Lachesis: We cannot promise you will receive what you seek. But we can promise the thread is not yet cut.
Atropos: The pattern is not yet complete.
Clotho: And Elizabeth—dear, brave, suffering Elizabeth—has one more transformation yet to undergo.
Lachesis: The next chapter awaits.
Atropos: Turn the page.
All Three: The choice, as always, is yours.
End of Entr'acte