35. Clara
35
CLARA
“ I am surprised you are not watching him.”
Clara turned from her balcony window. Phaedrus was better dressed in loose white pants with navy fabric that wrapped around his waist and fell in a rectangle between his legs. It was lined with gold thread and matched the tunic that fit his muscled body, dipping in a deep V neck. Fur sat diagonally from his large shoulder to his narrow hip and gold jewelry covered his wrists and ears.
Clara had watched Drakonis in his new form. Both men had their similarities, but she couldn’t help pointing out the differences.
“I fight the urge to, but if I constantly look at him through that mirror how am I to stay rooted in reality?”
How would she find a way to escape to him? Her heart yearned to see him. Drakonis was in pain, and his home was now destroyed. She wanted to take him in her arms and heal him in any way she could. Ever since the night they joined, her body was numb and empty. As if she was missing a piece of herself.
“The last time he saw me I was dying. Drakonis loves me so much and has experienced so much death. It must have…” She could not say the words.
“He has not experienced a fraction of what he will.” Clara met Phaedrus’s eyes. He looked sad, his frown deepening with every word that she said. He glared over at the compact mirror that Hades had given her. She saw his hands twitch as if he itched to break it. “I would break that mirror if I could. But…it would hurt your feelings. And that bastard God probably made it indestructible.”
His words started off so sweet then turned to those of a child. Clara chuckled. Were all dragons so clumsy when dealing with emotion?
“You laughed?” Phaedrus’s eyes were widened. He took a step forward.
“I suppose I did,” Clara said.
“Please tell me what made you do so,” Phaedrus said.
“You do not need to strive to please me,” Clara said.
“I am unlearned in the ways of romance and affection. Hades has offered me tips, but they have not seemed to work.”
Clara tilted her head.
“The God of the Underworld has advised you on how to gain a woman’s affection?” Imagining two great beings gossiping like women made her almost want to hold her stomach in laughter. A god and demigod who represented death and rebirth gossiped about romance?
“He has had two partners; one nymph that loved him until her demise and the goddess Persephone.” The rumored love between the two was a beautiful story. But his words piqued her curiosity.
“May I ask what Hades has advised you?”
“He advised me to steal you away and show my affections in a way that pleases you.”
So, him taking her from the earthly realm and spoiling her with the finest the Underworld had to offer was Hades’s idea?
“Are all dragon men incapable of handing emotion?” Clara muttered, touching her temple with her fingers.
“Forgive me, Innana .”
The new name was foreign to her. “What does that mean?”
“She is a goddess of beauty and love.” The straightforward way Phaedrus said it made her cheeks tinge. She turned her head to look out the balcony. “Is the name not to your liking? If she saw you, I believe she would consider in at honor.”
“N-no. It’s just unexpected. I do not expect such an endearing name from someone who barely knows me.”
Clara felt him before she heard him. His long, thick finger ran through her hair.
“I believe I know you well. You are the third child out of four from a peaceful southern region. The blood of the Fates runs through you. You are kind and see beauty in even the ugliest of people.” Phaedrus’s fingers pulled a lock towards him, making Clara turn her head. “Those that do earn your affection you love stronger than any other. It is where you derive your strength and determination. You are one who seeks peace and see all creatures as equal no matter their status.” Phaedrus brought a lock of hair to his lips, kissing it, but never moving his eyes from hers. “You are a jewel so rare that kings would trade lands and best herd and sheep.”
“You claim you know me so, yet you keep me from the one I love and hold secrets about my destiny.”
“You speak of my words concerning the Moirai?” Clara nodded. It didn’t escape her notice that he disregarded Drakonis. Phaedrus seemed distracted for a moment, looking out the balcony window at the black starry night and the river surrounding the palace with a tinge to it.
“I see all fates, but I am blind to my own. I am but a burden when it comes to battle and, when I do try to help, I put those I care about in danger,” Clara said.
“Not all that are strong need to wield weapons.” His eyes narrowed.Phaedrus had answered her musings.
“Is everything alright?” Clara asked.
“Yes.” He finally met her eyes again. “Come. If it is the Moirai you wish to see, then I will take you to them.”
Clara’s eyes widened. They were in the Underworld, but Phaedrus could see the Fates? Meet them?
“W-we can do that?”
He smiled with an arched brow. “I have made many connections over my time here. Does this impress you?”
Clara was conflicted. She already wasn’t sure if Phaedrus was truly an ally or an enemy. It was already a dream that she was in the Underworld, but to meet the goddesses of fate was something she never thought in the realm of possibility. If she allowed him to take her would that further twine her with Phaedrus?
“Your emotions show on your face,” Phaedrus said. “It is amusing and refreshing. Come. You owe me nothing to meet those that favor you.”
Clara’s palms became sweaty as she was guided away with a strong hand on her lower back. Even if she met the Fates that did not guarantee she would get answers. Would the love of her life really die since he has now become the Heir? What was the new evil that she saw when she touched Elisora, and the one that Drakonis was destined to help defeat?
She looked up at Phaedrus’s profile. His jaw was strong, his nose perfectly angular. Simultaneously he looked young and ancient; indestructible and vulnerable.
Would the Moirai be able to tell her if this man could really be set free? He said he desired her because he had seen her in a dream. Even if that was so, she could not accept him because she was already with Drakonis. And a deep part of her said that it wasn’t uniquely her, but just a companion he craved. Being an emperor meant you were alone, but was that truly fact?
Clara didn’t question why she did it. She grabbed Phaedrus’s hand. It was so large that she felt like a child, holding three of his fingers. Just as she had with Drakonis, and her brothers after Xenakis fell, she wanted to take away Phaedrus’s loneliness. He was one that did so much and asked for nothing, suffering in silence.
Phaedrus ran his thumb running up the vein in her wrist. She hoped he didn’t read more into this than what it was, but every part of her wanted to give him peace.
But while Clara’s heart was truly conflicted, she did not realize that secrets were kept from her from the one she pitied, and that her true mate was closer than she thought.
Just like everywhere else, the home of the Fates held no decor. Endless fog and a black marble floor like every other room. But past the fog, spinning wheels with varieties of colored string were wall to wall. She saw no sign of life but heard singing.
Clara looked over her shoulder at Phaedrus, who spoke softly to a black hooded figure with a scythe.
“Are you sure it’s alright for us to come here?” Clara asked.
Phaedrus held up his hand, ending the discussion he was having. It seemed her action before emboldened him as he returned to her side, grasping her hand. “All is well. The only thing you must not do is touch any thread. Do so and you will change the fate of the one linked.”
Clara’s eyes widened. She tried to make herself small, pushing herself into Phaedrus’s side. His chuckle made her look up with red cheeks. Something clicked.
“You are making that up,” she accused.
His chuckle became a full-blown laugh. “Forgive me.” Phaedrus said. “You looked so scared I could do naught but tease you.” She tried to tug her hand away, but he held firm. “I was not completely lying though. You must be careful of where you tread and not touch anything before getting explicit permission. These women are quite particular about where things are.”
“The great Phaedrus is laughing,” a womanly voice said.
“When he has always looked so sullen,” another one said.
“Alas, what surprises we may have yet to see,” a third said.
Clara forgot her embarrassment, walking forward, watching for ground that did not have silk or string. The large jokester followed behind, pulling her back if she strayed too far.
“How many times must I ask that you not speak of me as if I am not here?” Phaedrus sighed.
The three women giggled like small girls.
The further Phaedrus and she walked, the more the room changed. Strings became thick scarves, the scarves intertwined into bolts of fabric, blankets, then tapestries. Colors were varied and intricately detailed. Some cloth glittered like gems and other were dull and unremarkable.
“The girl beside him is one of Nyx.”
“She has come with confusion in her heart.”
“And is integral in our future.”
She was one of Nyx? She had heard this from the Drakaina but thought nothing of it. After the three gave their greetings, they began to sing. Their voices were soft like a lullaby.
The Fates were rumored to be ugly hags, but Clara gasped at seeing the reality of the triplets. One looked as if she were solid gold. Her hair was wavy and the color of the finest wheat, skin the color of the sun’s rays, and eyes a deep bronze. The second had cerulean hair that reminded her of Oceanus, with gray blue skin, and deep purple eyes. The final was silvery like the moon, hair cropped to her shoulders and straight with bangs that came to her slate gray eyes, and stone skin like that of gargoyles. They looked like elemental nymphs, but instead of frolicking in the wood they were spinning and singing.
“The golden one is Clotho. She is of the present time who spins the thread of life.” Clara followed Phaedrus’s gaze to the one who looked as if she came from the ocean. “That is Lachesis. She represents the future. When weaving a fate, she is the one that decides how long one lives.”
“So, she…” Clara pointed to the short haired one that reminded her of a gargoyle.
“That is Atropos. She is of the past. When it is time for one to die, she is the one that cuts the thread of life with her scissors.”
Clara had no words. The three were stunningly beautiful and a homeliness feeling filled her heart.
“She is speechless to see us,” Clotho sang.
“And she is unsure of her value,” Lachesis said.
“And has questioned what we have destined and attempted to change.” Atropos said.
“I never meant any disrespect.” Clara’s hand left Phaedrus’s. She clasped them together at her waist and bowed to the three. “I only…”
“Wished to save your siblings and beloved,” Atropos finished.
“You do not need to explain yourself.” Clotho added.
“For we know what you have done and will do,” Lachesis said.
Words tumbled out of Clara’s mouth before she had a chance to contain them. “The visions you sent me harmed my loved ones. I only wish to know if there is a way to change what will come or prepare.” Clara didn’t lift her head.
“There is a balance of good and evil that must always be in the world,” Atropos said.
“Once we have weaved a fate it is done and can never be changed,” Lachesis said.
“But people can change,” Clara challenged.
“Hearts and desires may, but the fate will not,” Lachesis said. Clara looked to Clotho who had been silent. She continued to spin her wheel. The string wrapped between her fingers looked as if it was made of diamonds. Clara was drawn to it; her fingers ached to hold it.
“Not even the gods can make us waver. For we are the balance,” Clotho sang, her eyes never wavering.
“Then may I ask…” Clara began.
“For the fate of your mate?” Clotho finished.
“We are forbidden to speak of the future,” Lachesis said.
“You must trust in what we have shown you or look to the Book of Fate,” Atropos said.
The Book of Fate?
“Where is the Book?” Clara asked.
None of the triplets answered. They continued to sing their song that sounded of the lullaby. Clara looked to Phaedrus who simply nodded to her. She tried another question.
“If I may ask another question. I have touched many and seen their futures, and only revealed what must be. Yet when I touch either Drakonis, or Phaedrus, I see nothing. Does that mean that….”
“Your fate is intwined with theirs,” Lachesis said.
“We give you the visions but cannot let you see your own,” Clotho said.
“For you must grow to be the sister that completes us,” Atropos finished.
Her head was beginning to hurt. Every time a sister talked the others finished the statement.
I may not get full answers, but I have new questions, Clara thought.
“Trust in your heart,” Clotho said.
“Trust in the dragon god,” Lachesis said.
“Do not trust those that may appear close,” Atropos finished.
Atropos words haunted her. She cannot trust those that appear close? There were few that she considered herself close to; really her siblings, her godfather, and Drakonis.
Her stomach lurched, remembering Phaedrus’s words when she entered the Underworld.
No. Her heart was sure of it. Drakonis had gone through so much and had been betrayed his whole life.
Clara looked up at Phaedrus.
He was betrayed by even the one that had been with him since birth. There would be no way he would declare himself hers then betray her.
Phaedrus looked at the three as if he had more to say. When he noticed her stare, his smile returned. He pushed her at her lower back to guide her past the Fates.
“Where are we going?” Clara pushed.
“There is somewhere else I wish to show you.” Phaedrus answered. He bowed to the Fates. “Ladies please enjoy the new looms I have obtained for you.”
The three squealed like little children.
Clara tried to put some distance between the two of them, but Phaedrus kept her close, pulling her arm. He didn’t hurt her but since he had entered her room, he had been clingy and watched his surroundings.
“Is something wrong?” Clara asked.
“Not at all,” Phaedrus answered. “After all, I have you and my freedom is approaching. How could I want anything more?”
His freedom was approaching? That meant only one thing.
“Drakonis is coming.” Phaedrus did not answer, but his silence was confirmation. “I should meet him if he’s coming.”
“I despise how you light up at the mention of him,” Phaedrus said.
“Phaedrus…”
“If you are meant to see him you will. But for now, I wish to show you around the Underworld. After all, you do not want to stay locked up in your room do you?”
This demigod who had been so sweet had a menacing undertone. Clara’s throat closed. She nodded as he squeezed her arm. What could she do to escape him though?
Please Drakonis. Find me. Clara thought. Before it’s too late.