A Pacifist

Abaddon's face darkened.

He was not unfamiliar with the three women. The Moirai, also called the Three Fates, were members of the Temple of Oracles. To be more precise, the Three Fates was a position as opposed to a permanent identity.

However, this was a secret of the Temple.

As far as subhuman and human races had known since the days of old, the Three Fates were three old women who decided the destiny of mortals with a thread.

The reality of the matter was much simpler. The Temple, like other powerful groups, assigned the role to the most suitable candidates. The chosen would serve for a thousand years before the mantle was passed on.

"Is the Temple planning on interfering with matters outside of Auspex?" Abaddon asked.

The three women did not respond right away. Aisling looked at them with some interest as she remained in Abaddon's arms. Their faces were covered in a white veil, but she could see a silhouette that indicated they were not as old and ugly as the ancient stories told.

"The Banshee belongs with us." The three Fates spoke as one.

Abaddon's arms subconsciously tightened his arms around Aisling. His irritation was obvious.

"Leave the Banshee with us." One of the Fates spoke.

"The threads of her destiny are intertwined with the fate of the word." Another one added.

"Her destiny must be fulfilled." The last one spoke.

Aisling frowned and tapped Abaddon's shoulder to indicate for him to put her on her feet. Even though she still felt dizzy, she was not too weak to stand. Abaddon frowned, but he complied. However, he kept an arm around her.

"What is my destiny?" Aisling asked with a subtle smile as she faced the women.

"The future is clouded."

"But the fog hides a destiny greater than imagined."

"This destiny must be fulfilled."

Aisling lifted her brow.

"So, you want me to come with you so that I can fulfil a destiny that you do not know?" She paused. "And if I am truly important to your Temple, why didn't you look for me before?"

Aisling could see that these people were up to something. Even if Abaddon did not warn her about the mercenary nature of the Temple of Oracles, she would not follow these women. They had their interests.

It was probably related to the purification of the hill.

Otherwise, if they had a genuine interest in her from the beginning, they would have looked for her along with or before Abaddon sent the Order for her. After all, they were the ones who gave Abaddon hints on finding her.

"Impudent!" One of the Fates materialised a wooden staff in her hand and hit the ground.

A crack appeared and split the ground and rushed towards Aisling.

Abaddon frowned and looked at the crack nearing them. Immediately, the crack stopped. Then, the crack widened and moved back towards the Moirai. When the three realised the situation, they rose in tandem into the air.

Abaddon lips stretched into a cold smile, and he started to lift his hand.

"I heard that the King became a pacifist. It seems the rumours are wrong." A female voice spoke out.

The sound seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. Aisling felt discomfited by the voice. It had a certain slippery quality.

"If I do not take action once in a while, people forget why I am a pacifist," Rex responded with a chill.

As he responded, a woman appeared on the hill. She was tall and curvaceous in her silky green dress. Also, she had distinctively narrow pupils and green irises. However, what stood out most to Aisling was a distinctively sweet scent that seemed to surround her.

"I apologise on behalf of my subordinates." Pythia bowed a little toward Rex.

Abaddon did not put too much meaning into that bow. He had sensed her presence before the Fates attacked. She had been watching to see his reaction. It was the reason he had lifted his hand as if to retaliate.

He did not need to do anything more than use a thought to deal with the Moirai. However, he had made to lift his hand because he knew Pythia could not watch. After all, it was said that once he lifted his hand, he would obliterate even the soul. She was a cold-hearted snake, but she had some affection for her people.

"What do you want?" Rex had an overbearing tone.

"The Banshee has the markings of a great diviner. There is no better place for her to learn the craft of divination than in the Temple of Oracles. She could reveal everything that surrounds the dark destiny we saw awaits Panthalassa." Pythia responded.

As the Oracle, Pythia had been a little interested when she had seen the young banshee drawing in the foul energy which had confounded the Temple into herself. However, what had made her pay real attention is the detection of her raw divining power.

At that moment, she seemed like someone who could hold the world in her hands.

She could not let such a person join forces with anyone other than the Temple of Oracles.