There exists a pce that is not quite a pce—a space that could not be described as space, a point that exists far beyond the aetherial pnes where celestial attendants dance, further even from the worlds of mortals, a point that is time yet has no time, a point of being that the Gods call, Aevum.

  Within the temporal shrouds of Aevum hangs a luminous tapestry of existence that stretches infinitely. Charged with the duty to oversee this ineffable thing of fate, was the Goddess Klotho. The youngest of three divine sisters, each of whom held the fateful threads of the universe in their ethereal hands.

  Klotho's whole being was dedicated to weaving the threads of life and death, for it was decreed that she, and she alone, would hold dominion over the moment when mortal souls would breathe their first breaths and, if she willed them to be, be granted another chance at life—rebirth.

  But truthfully, the powers she wielded were as mercurial as the tapestry she wove.

  Klotho's touch was capricious and unpredictable—which caused misgivings and sorrow in many worlds. The denizens of which cried out and prayed to remedy their misfortunes.

  Gods of all pantheons knew the name Klotho and associated it with camity and tragedy.

  Klotho mented her own fate, which seemingly existed outside of her control. A fate she thought was crueler than those who bmed her for their hardships.

  Her sisters, Lachesis and Atropos, held mastery over the threads of destiny and mortality, and they did not hesitate to bme Klotho for the strife her fickle powers sowed among the realms.

  The divine pantheons, assemblies of gods and goddesses who presided over the cosmos, grew weary of Klotho's perceived negligence.

  They turned their backs on her, throwing accusations which cimed she was purposefully bringing discord to the worlds.

  Their divine voices rose in volume as they decreed her punishment: Exile from the heights of Aevum.

  The Gods appeased themselves with the thoughts of her presence being removed from their vicinity. If she was unable to spin the threads of fate, misfortune would disappear with her.

  And so, Klotho found herself cast out into the infinite expanse of Aevum. Forever cursed to wander aimlessly, barred from returning to the divine sanctum of the Gods.

  Though time had no true meaning in Aevum, it did flow in the realms below. And years began to pass.

  No longer did her sisters seek her counsel.

  Not that I cared for the way they belittled me when they did.

  No longer did her hands sway the destinies of mortals.

  Not that I truly had control over their destinies to begin with.

  She had been cast aside, beled a wayward deity.

  I never enjoyed the company of other gods.

  She had been beled as a pariah, bmed for the troubles that had befallen the realms.

  I’ve never belonged with the others from the start.

  And before long Klotho had been adrift for over ten thousand years, with nothing but her sorid thoughts to keep her company.

  During those thousands of years, however, the divine pantheons witnessed the consequences of their actions in the worlds they governed.

  Without Klotho’s steady hand, no new life could be born into these worlds.

  At first, many gods and goddesses were overjoyed by the decline of souls in need of judgment, guidance, and purpose.

  But it was instead a curse levied upon themselves.

  In just a few hundred years, many worlds were devoid of mortal life. War, famine, or pgue had wiped out struggling poputions.

  The cosmic bance wavered.

  Therefore, two decrees were made to the remaining sisters by the pantheons.

  Atropos was banned from severing the life of any mortals, and Lachesis could never instigate a feud that would lead to any deaths.

  Soon some of the worlds the Gods watched over began to forge destinies contrary to the gods' intentions. Civilizations flourished. They began to advance their philosophies and their technologies.

  Mortals, now effectively immortal, cimed the Gods to be dead. They no longer built shrines or temples. They no longer prayed.

  And the powers of the Gods waned.

  Amidst their growing dissatisfaction, the Gods convened in an inner sanctum made of aetherial stardust.

  Once again, they bmed all their woes upon Klotho, Goddess of Fate.

  Celestial attendants were sent out in every direction to search the depths of Aevum. Their mandate was simple.

  “Find the Evil Goddess, Klotho. Shackle her and deliver her to us to face Justice.”

  Deep within a scintilting sea of stars that seemed to stretch endlessly before her, Klotho wandered through the vast cosmic expanse.

  After being exiled by the pantheons and bmed for every instance of chaos that had occurred in the lower realms, she was having trouble bearing the burden of this newfound solitude.

  Tiny specks of starlight shone all around her like distant beacons. Their brilliance, she thought, was a stark contrast to the gnawing void that consumed her mind.

  Klotho's once-glorious abaster white robes of divinity had changed. The vicious storm of her emotions dyed the divine raiment a light-consuming bck.

  Her once radiant eyes, brimming with the power of creation and fate, had dulled. All that remained were pools of sorrow which reflected the inky darkness that surrounded her.

  As she trudged her way through the void, her movements were weighed down by the immense feelings of isotion.

  Her divine footsteps once echoed with the memories of worlds she had touched, destinies she had woven. But now, the universe was indifferent to her presence—the threads of fate were an enigmatic tapestry, always beyond her reach.

  Now, only her thoughts accompanied her.

  She had begun to speak to herself often, even though her words faded away in the vast emptiness.

  “A thousand years… How long am I to bear this endless solitude? Am I a goddess, or nothing more than a wretched wanderer?”

  I am a shadow of my former self, she mused in the quiet corners of her mind.

  “I once held the power to weave the threads of life or prolong death. Now, I can barely hold the threads of my mind together!” The forlorn goddess yelled, her voice cracked in desperation.

  There was no response to her wails. There never was.

  Memories of her moment of exile were a constant torment. She repyed the accusations of the other gods and goddesses in her mind, the bme for chaos she hadn't caused.

  “I was not at fault,” she muttered, her voice filled with bitterness. “I tried to tell them, begged them to accept that it was not my doing. But they refused to listen.”

  Klotho sighed.

  The passage of time continued.

  Throughout the cosmos, the heavenly bodies became her only friends. But even the stars, while offering their silent beauty, provided no real soce for her lonely heart.

  The concept of time itself had become a cruel tormentor. "Ten thousand years," she whispered, her voice shaking with anguish. "A mere blink in the eye of the universe, but an eternity in the heart of one who is abandoned."

  She knew that time did not pass directly for her—no one in Aevum felt the passage of time. But she knew time would pass in the realms of mortals, and somewhere deep in her heart there was an aching.

  Certain thoughts consumed her mind.

  Klotho's grasp on her own identity had grown fragile. She had a harder time distinguishing the boundaries between her divine nature and her despair. She longed for the company of her divine kin, the ughter of her celestial sisters, and the camaraderie of the pantheon.

  The memories of why she had been exiled had blurred.

  The memories of how the others had treated her had faded.

  “Was my punishment deserved?”

  Her question was a desperate plea to the cosmic void.

  “What was it that made them cast me aside? I miss the warmth of their presence, the feeling of belonging to something greater.”

  The fields of Aevum continued to stretch infinitely.

  “I am a goddess of fate,” she whispered to the stars, her voice fading into the cosmic void. “And yet, is my own destiny is a cruel paradox? Alone, adrift, and forgotten…”

  And then there was a new light. Noise that came not from her, but from something else—someone else.

  It was a moment both unexpected and surreal, the faint shimmer of movement in the unending cosmic sea. A band of celestial attendants, their forms radiant and ephemeral, descended upon her like specters of the heavens. Their ethereal essence was the embodiment of divine servitude, for these attendants, bound by cosmic contract, upheld the will of the Gods in the myriad realms.

  Klotho could not be certain that these newly appeared beings were not just apparitions of her mind; her loneliness made manifest.

  But as they encircled her, their collective presence became a shimmering wall of celestial energy. She felt herself drawn to their will, powerless to resist their influence.

  “Klotho,” One of the attendants intoned with a voice like the ringing of chimes, “You will come with us. You’ve caused enough harm to the realms, and must now face justice.”

  Her gentle-sounding words acted as a command that echoed through the cosmic void.

  Klotho's vision, blurred by the tears of her solitude, refocused on the attendants. She was shackled by their aetherial magicks that shimmered like liquid starlight, binding her wrists and ankles in iridescent chains.

  Bound and encircled, her blurry memories whipped through her mind. The knowledge was fragmented, but she knew she had not been welcome in the sanctum.

  She knew that if she was taken back there, she would be hurt even further.

  “Let me be,” she pleaded, her voice quivering with desperation. “I cannot return. I am an outcast, a shadow of my former self. I can bring only chaos to the realms.”

  The celestial attendants masked their expressions and remained steadfast in their mission. With synchronized movements, they hoisted Klotho into their arms and began their ascent to the heights of Aevum.

  The goddess, shackled and powerless, could only gaze back at the endless sea she had dwelled as it faded into obscurity.