Blackfeather Woods ready for the funeral

It was she who wove the threads, the sister who had passed too early. Lakhesis hadn't known the youngest of the fate's life would be so short, and her passing hadn't been by Shego's hand. Something had happened, had disturbed fate, but they would make it right again. Klotho had directed them here, to where she spun the thread of new life. They would find her again.

The sister nodded at Shego's words, though she was dubious that the mother would allow them close. So protective of their young, new mothers were. Yet they wouldn't be able to protect them from fate. "She will not," Lakhesis said with true conviction, looking to her sister.

But a spell, a spell would work. This was a delicate circumstance; one wrong move and all life would be doomed.