They appeared suddenly on a shore of a lake, with the sun setting above them, just barely still over the mountains. The lake was pristine and still, the mountains calm and the world silent around them. Atropos squinted at Tim and shook her head.

“I must send you back home, we’re about to do a lot of swimming, and while we are protected, we can’t risk it with you,” she said.

Tim looked stunned and began to protest before vanishing. Martha looked sternly at Atropos, but knew now wasn’t the time to argue. She changed into a swimsuit, and both ladies stood on the edge of the lake.

“I must warn you,” Atropos said, “we are likely to encounter their guards. This lake is the entrance to the fountain, and we must dive beneath it. I can’t get any closer using teleportation, and this, at least, will give us some opportunity to explain ourselves.”

She then pulled Martha in with her, not even allowing time for a response, as they dove. Their swimming speed was incredible, but of course, both were really “jetting” through the water, unperturbed by the increasingly high pressure beneath.

As they got to the bottom of the lake, they found themselves in an underwater city. Martha was stunned.

“This used to be a human settlement, when they had favor with the gods,” Atropos explained, “no one knows exactly what went wrong, but now it is quarters for the Guard of the Tigris.”

And yet, the city was deathly silent, even for something underwater. Martha, even as she willed her hearing better and better, found no trace of any noise. She turned to Atropos, pointing to her ears inconspicuously. Atropos bowed her head.

“So you don’t hear them either,” Atropos said solemnly, “it’s just as I feared.”

To demonstrate, she opened the door to a house, and inside, about a half dozen guards were in various states of death.

“B..but,” Martha said, “the Tigris is still flowing, otherwise we’d surely have heard sooner.”

“And I’m going to bet,” Atropos said, “that its water is now coming from the Euphrates. There’s only one way to find out.”

She pointed towards a pathway that led into a cave. Even from a distance, Martha could tell it was spewing water at an insane pace. Both flew towards it with renewed strength.

A few minutes later, both surfaced in a large patio beneath a rotunda, with blue water sparkling with gold radiating from the center of it. And in the center, three young (or seemingly so) Naiads were arguing.

“Which one of you agreed to let my water be rerouted and killed my sister, that’s all I’m asking!” one of them yelled at the other two.

“And we’ve told you we could never do such a thing!” the tallest of the bunch calmly responded, clearly exasperated.

Atropos made an ‘ahem’ noise, before dodging the trident thrown in her direction, it stabbing into the wall behind her harmlessly instead.

“Who goes there?” the tallest asked.

“I am Atropos, eldest of the Three Sisters of the Thread,” she replied.

“When I last saw you, young one,” she responded, “you were the youngest of the three. If you are here, it must mean something very grave indeed. Apologies for the introduction, my name is Pishon, and my sister Gehen, and the youngest now of us, Euphrates.”

Both Atropos and Martha bowed, before Atropos spoke, “It’s a pleasure to meet you all, this is my apprentice, Martha, set to replace me soon. But first, we are here to solve the most disturbing mystery confronting us all.”

“What insights do you have, Atropos, that we have not already seen?” Gehen asked boredly, “for we know our sister is dead, and despite Euphrates’ petulant insistence, we know it was not one of us three who caused it.”

“We came here to ascertain that ourselves,” Atropos replied, “and I take it you’ve seen how her guards have been destroyed too?”

“We could sense their loss of life, yes,” Pishon spoke, “but none of us dared help her, for fear that all the water of youth might be lost.”

“It was you or Gehen, I know it was! Do not play these games with me!” Euphrates protested, “I only still stand here because I will surely lose standing against both of my sisters.”

“What makes you so sure it was one of the other two?” Martha asked, puzzled.

“She can feel premonitions in her depths at times,” Pishon replied, “and it seems they have suggested to her it was a sister.”

“But, aren’t you all sisters with all Naiads?” Martha asked, confusedly.

“But not one of the lesser beings can match our power, not unless they were bestowed with the powers of the heavens themselves,” Gehen explained, “it would be impossible unless the High King himself had imposed these powers.”

“Then it was,” Atropos replied, “that’s all that makes sense.”

“But…why?” Pishon asked, bewildered.

“I’m not sure how well you’ve been keeping up with the heavens, but they are not exactly what they used to be. It’s taken me centuries to get a new cutting machine, and my sister even longer for a new loom. To put it bluntly, they’ve obviously gotten lazy with approvals,” she explained.

“You mean my sister died because of bureaucracy?” Euphrates fumed.

“Well,” Atropos replied, “in part, yes.”

“This… has gone too far. We’ll keep in touch, Atropos, but we’re afraid we don’t have any more answers other than what you’ve seen and we’ve already told you. Best of luck, but please do not return, we will be pooling our guards to defend these sacred halls themselves, and drying the waters up for the time being,” Pishon spoke.

Atropos nodded, and then whisked them back home. On the couch, Tim was mindlessly reading a chapter of The Metamorphosis that Martha had gotten for them. They looked up at the two and waved, blushing as they looked at Martha and turning back conspicuously towards their book, making a concerted effort not to look up again. It was then Martha realized she was still in the suit, and magic’d it off of her.

Meanwhile, Atropos had already started the walk to the back. Martha turned around behind her, to see her collapsed on the floor a little ways down the hallway. As she ran to pick her sister up, she noticed how much older she seemed, if not in her looks, then in her soul.

“Atropos,” Martha asked, “are you awake?”

“Yes, Martha,” Atropos replied, coughing, “I might need to take a quick nap.”

Martha held her hand up to Atropos’ forehead, noticing the feverish sensation. She knew there was no pulse to check, but Atropos being unable to contain her body temperature was worrying enough.

“Atropos,” Martha said, “I’m going to put you in bed.”

“Okay, dear,” Atropos replied, “thank you. Be a dear and run the threads for me a bit while I recover? Just like I showed you?”

Martha nodded, walking with Atropos in her arms to the room, and laying Atropos in the bed she’d scarcely seen the old woman in since the day she first arrived at the house. She thought about doting on Atropos more, but she knew there was little you could get a goddess who could whip up anything she needed, other than the one thing she knew Atropos would be worried sick about if it weren’t done.

After a few hours of getting through the backlogs caused by a jam while they were away, Martha noticed Atropos stirring in the bed. She set the machine to automatic and walked silently to her sister’s side.

“This isn’t the end yet, is it?” Martha asked, worriedly.

“Not yet, dear,” Atropos said, her mouth not even opening, “but I’m conserving my energy.”

“You used up a lot of what was left, huh?” Martha asked, a tear beginning to roll down her face.

Atropos delicately and shakily lifted up a finger to wipe away the tear, and then replied, “Yes, sister. I’m so proud of all you’ve become, and I know that when the time does come, you will do well.”

Martha turned to leave the room, before saying, “Rest up, but do let me know if the damned machine jams again so I can fix it. I’m going to talk with Tim.”

Atropos made a little smirk and nodded once, and Martha shut the door. She walked out of the hallway and towards the living room, where Tim had just about finished the book.

“So,” Tim said, putting a bookmark in and setting the book down next to them, “how did it go?”

“Well,” Martha said, “all the water from the Fountain of Youth is drying up for the time being, I’m not sure how much more about it I can say.”

Tim looked uncomfortably at her, then down at their feet. “That isn’t good, is it?”

Martha shook her head and gently hugged them, letting the embrace last for a few minutes. They’d reached an understanding in the past few months, being roommates as they were, of how to comfort each other, talk to each other, cook for each other, and be with each other. Neither spoke for sometime, but the fondness of the embrace said all that needed to be said.

“What are you going to do now?” Tim asked.

“I don’t know,” Martha replied, “Atropos always made the plans, I just apprenticed.”

“Maybe it’s time to put that training into practice?” they replied.

Martha turned to them and smiled. “I think so, I’ll call my other sisters just to be sure what I’m thinking of is a good idea.”