"The Savior and Lord of Fate, I praised your name. We pray for your blessings, and may your children be blessed. Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos glorify thy name. Moirai."
…. Elli bows down as she finish the last verse of her prayer.
"Moirai…"
replied by jack's younger brother, Max Morgan.
Jack is 19 years old and is fascinated by the prayers his parents are chanting. Since he was a child, he has wondered why his parents pray every night, before dinner and before going to bed. He didn't get why the gods needed their children to sing praises to their names. Is it true that names are so essential to them?
"Jack! how many times do I have to tell you not to use scissors when it's time for prayer! Lord Atropos will not like her child to act this way."
When Jack was about to cut out the part of newspaper his father had read so he could read it later, her angry mother Ellie cried out. Jack kept his mouth shut since he knew that retorting to his mother would only make her reprimand him more.
Have you ever considered whether God is real to you? Atropos was said to be the thread of life's cutter. SHE is said to have chosen the method in which each person died, and when the time came, she snipped their life-thread with "HER abhorred shears." Clotho, who spun the thread of life from HER distaff onto HER "spindle," and Lachesis, who used HER "measuring rod" to measure the thread of life assigned to each person, were the other MOIRAI.
My family believes in the Temple of Fate and worships the MOIRAI, which are three goddesses of fate who personified man's unavoidable fate and assigned each person their fate or portion in the scheme of life. I'm not sure why the church of fate has so many gods to worship, or whether these gods are just one being with multiple names. It's not like anything will change whether or not I believe they are one entity.
"Mother... Father, I'm going outside with Amelie at a teacher's house since we have lectures from Mr. Anderson."
Jack lied. I had no intention of attending, but Amelie, his next-door neighbor, pleaded with him to accompany her to her teacher's place, so Jack excused himself from his parents. Anyway, I'll just wander down the street until anything piques my curiosity.
"Son, you need to be careful going out at night; I heard from a coworker that there are criminals prowling in our neighborhood, and it appears that the disappearance of teens is linked to this."
My father said, referring to the recent events in our town.
"Hansel! I haven't agreed to him going out late at night; you know how unsafe it is out there, and it's already quarter past seven."
My mother yells at my father, concerned.
"I'll be back before midnight, mother and I'm not going out alone, and I can't leave Amelie out there alone at night."
I reason out before she gets upset at father.
"Fine." As she placed the dishes in the sink, she murmured
"You're going on a date night with Amelie?" Max joked
"Don't speak nonsense."
I flicked on his forehead. I sit up and get ready to meet up with Amelie.
Max screamed "Mommmmmmmm!"
"Here's ten mora, buy bread on your way home."
his father said as he was about to leave. His family is from a lower social status, but thankfully, his father works in an industry that pays slightly more than slaves. Manual labor vocations are employed by workers.
They only ate twice a day and obtaining work entails graduating from a professional who makes a living as a teacher. Artisans, merchants, bureaucrats, officials, professionals, officers, and commissioners make up the middle class. Climbing to a higher class, however, is nearly impossible for them. Slaves, in particular, are mistreated by the upper class. The upper class, which includes nobles, priests, and kings, is the highest class. To Jack, they are gods who are enjoying their time on earth. Just thought of going outside makes him sigh. The threat, according to him, is not those mysterious criminals, but rather those in the upper class who discriminate against them.
His father gets 100 mora per week, which is just enough to keep them afloat for the week. His brother aspires to be a professional one day, but in order to do so, he must be a genius and possess the necessary mora to fend off those money-hungry teachers. Fortunately, Amelie was able to assist Jack in learning from her teacher.
Amelie's father owns a bakery and a merchant. It will be enough for her to accomplish her ambition of one day becoming a professional teacher. Mr. Anderson is her teacher, and in a month, he earns over a thousand mora.
Max and I shared a room in a modest apartment that cost 100 mora per month to rent. I picked up my coat and waited for Amelie to exit their residence. As the colds seeped through my ears, I clasped my hands together.
"I have gloves with me, Jack. Please, take them. It's chilly outside, you know."
She said while she handed me the gloves. She's always been like this, generous and caring. We've been friends since childhood, and Jack is perplexed of why she keeps him as a friend.
"I wouldn't be freezing cold if you didn't insist on taking me with you."
I mused as I rolled my eyes.
"Mr. Jack, you've already agreed to accompany me, so there's no turning back now; up we go, before you change your mind."
She took my hands in hers and began walking with me out of the upper slum, afraid that I would reconsider my decision.
"Have you heard that some individuals have gone missing in our city?"
As we headed towards the slums, I inquired curiously. When we get to Astoria Street, she stops walking.
"Well, yes, Dumont is a small city, so when something happens here, it only takes a short time for it to reach everyone." she responded.
Dumont is not a small city, but it is modest when compared to other cities such as Ekasia City, which is known for its developing machinery. Dumont City is a refuge for people who have lost hope in life.
"Be careful going out late at night, Amelie."
She argued, "I'm going to my teacher's house, not the slums, where crooks lurk around."
"How do you ensure the killer was from the slums?"
I inquired.
"There are people who are not who we believe they are, and sometimes the people we least expect to be dangerous are the ones closest to us."
As she walked slowly towards our destination, she didn't respond to my argument. I felt it odd that she didn't respond to me as she usually does, but I dismissed it immediately, assuming that she was simply too busy to think about it. We took a trip through the streets and noticed a few carriage passing by and a few people buzzing about in the small buildings. Some people smoke, and the scent of tobacco remains in our nostrils.
Only a few streetlights are frantically attempting to illuminate the town. You can see how difficult it is for people to live in this town just by looking at it, but the upper class doesn't seem to mind. Perhaps King Alexander III is unaware of the city's existence.