Unspooling the threads

Of unavoidable things

Such a fragile thing, such a fragile one.

Leo Valdez is just shy of 12 years old when he discovers the ichor in his veins as he careens down into the abyss and fear fails to seize him; that isn't what gives it away, but it does play a huge part in the discovery, the fact that death doesn't scare him. It has nothing to do with a misplaced belief that he's immortal, as he's yet to know his connection to those who are; but rather a cold acceptance, a resignation to his perceived fate, and maybe that's why he ends up where he does.

Leo, unlike others who've taken this trip downwards, has enough time to notice the castle in the distance, to see the different fields expanding beneath it, the picture gets sharply cut by a purplish black spire, and then he's in darkness surrounded by a fog-like substance that impossibly seems to be slowing his descent; he doesn't remember much after that.

When he wakes up he's in a pile of dark colored cloth, on a room speckled in whites and black, somehow illuminated by slender middle-ages styled torches with green fire... Leo does a double take, rubs his eyes, gets to his feet, paces a little, looks again and, no, the fire's still green. This pattern of black-white-green persists throughout the entirety of the house he finds himself in, a building of black stone walls, heavy doors, and furniture Leo's not entirely convinced isn't made out of actual bone.

He doesn't look through any of the three closed doors in the hallway, attention drawn instead to the slightly ajar door at the end, from it three very distinct voices can be heard; one is high-pitched and almost loud enough to be understood even at this distance, the other is even and melodic with exhaustion, the third is raspy and paused. Leo walks forwards.

It'll always be hard to describe properly, the room with the infinite colorful strings, as he is one of the very few being alive to see its truth other than its users; in the middle of the room, three figures masterfully weave the strands into place, a dance older than time itself, this Leo can tell from the moment he steps foot inside the room that first day. Strangely, and against all rules that may be, and all that he will find himself to be, the room welcomes him in; strangely, and yet obviously, as nothing is ever not predetermined, even when not everything manages to happen.

Which, granted, is a hard concept to grasp, but Leo's a little... out-of-touch, when it comes to simpler ways to explain things.

That first day, he watches mesmerized for an entire 10 minutes, then notices something, and doesn't realize he's pointed it out loudly, until three faces turn to him, hands never stopping their actions. They know who he is, and what he's meant to become, his presence is not what surprises them; he instinctively knows who they are, even if the name doesn't exist in his head yet, that doesn't surprise them either.

What makes them turn is the way the strings react, the way they seem to curl around him, shining slightly brighter, and telling him things he's not supposed to know; even if he doesn't understand that's what's happening right then. The fates turn again, matching smiles on all three faces, and speak up as one.

"Join us then"

And despite how unsettling this whole thing has been, Leo does.

He learns their names the same moment he learns just how powerful such things are; and he learns how to be careful in tandem. He does them by initial, much to their joint amusement, and that is another thing he has to learn, how they express emotions.

Lady C, the spinner, is the most playful, lady L, the allotter, is the chattiest, and lady A is the most mature; they're all technically the same age, if age is a thing that could be applied to beings such as them, but take the appearance of old woman, young adult woman, and little girl respectively. Leo tucks all this information away as he grows into his own role; but they're not the only deities he meets on his time there.

The nymph of the Phlegethon is a no-nonsense sort of person, and an extremely strict teacher; as Leo's blood makes him target to monsters, particularly this close to the pit, they have no option but to be. At first Leo loathes them, as they force him to use his fire without fail, but lady A says he has to be able to defend himself if he wants to visit the surface; it's part of his role technically, but him having that role at all could easily change if he doesn't follow the right steps.

So he trains until he reeks of sulfur and ash, until he stops repressing the heat beneath his skin, until covering himself entirely in flames is as easy as breathing. He's also given a weapon and someone to train with; they tried many before the hammer, but in the end blood pulled the way it was always meant to.

The unnamed spirit who teaches Leo everything about fighting with a hammer is a bit weirder to interact with than the deities, if only for how human they are; they only speak in Spanish, which was a little weird to get back to after the last three years without practice. Still, Leo takes to using the hammer a lot easier; and eventually he learns to combine both things effectively.

Finally, and inevitably, he gets to go to the castle, to be introduced under his new title, to the rulers of the place. Lady L insists that he's lucky for he'll get audience with both rulers, mostly, Leo feels weary; a feeling that stays as he goes through the proper curtseys and listens to the triad of voices come from the triangle that hangs from his neck as they introduce him as Κοράκι.

He's nothing if not proud of the name, if only for what it means in context; he's their messenger, their spy, and their representative. He's guided into the tower where all corvids reside for the last part of his training, and though his title comes mostly out of necessity, he still finds himself adopted into the murder.