Eryndra, the Fatestring Hag

Birth in the Shadow of Fate

Born last during the cursed moment of the Great Eclipse, Eryndra’s birth scream unraveled a woven prophecy that had stood unbroken for generations. Where Zoratha paused time and Agasyl pulled despair from the womb, Eryndra’s existence twisted fate itself. The moment her eyes opened, a noble child nearby died unexpectedly, a political marriage dissolved in scandal, and three ravens flew in reverse.

Though the youngest, Eryndra was the most deliberate—a silent observer, always watching the paths not taken. Lorthys, the Nightsewn, recognized in her a weaver’s patience—not just with thread and loom, but with destiny. While Zoratha studied motion and Agasyl tunneled through misery, Eryndra read futures like verses, constantly deciphering the quiet warnings of the world.

She did not speak often. But when she did, her words turned true.

The Quiet One in the Coven

Eryndra’s role among the Weavers of Dread was not lesser, only subtler. While her sisters terrified with direct displays of dread, Eryndra haunted people with the weight of inevitability. She could whisper someone’s fate and let them walk toward it by their own trembling steps.

She never forced doom—she allowed it.

Her magic operated like a nudge, a cut string, a knot slipped at just the wrong moment. It was said that she once cursed a king by staying silent when he asked if he would live to see peace. He died days later from the stress of imagining every possible failure.

To mortals, she was known as the Unthreaded One, the Whisper at the Spindle, or the Hand That Waits.

But in her soul, Eryndra never stopped wondering if the path they walked was truly their own.

The Rift Within

As the Weavers deepened their pact with Vrothak, Eryndra felt the most resistance—not from the lord of decay, but from within herself. While Zoratha chased power over time and Agasyl embraced her dominion over sorrow, Eryndra feared they had become tools, no longer weaving their own tapestries but serving the patterns chosen by a god of endings.

She began experimenting in secret—undoing fate-threads, not just observing them. The more she did, the more she realized: Vrothak’s rot was not passive. It actively constrained the future, collapsing possibilities into decay.

To Eryndra, that was the ultimate betrayal—a god of dread who demanded submission, who didn't allow the possibility of choice. So she made her own:

She would cut the thread.

She approached Agasyl first, hoping her sister’s empathy would see the need for freedom. But Agasyl, ever loyal and comfortably numb in her despair, rebuffed her. Then she tried Zoratha—but Zoratha laughed. Not in cruelty, but in certainty. To Zoratha, fate was the leash she would one day break with her own hands. Eryndra’s vision of freedom was, to her, delusion.

So, Eryndra acted alone.

The Severance Attempt and Exile

The ritual she attempted was forbidden: a breaking of the triune pact, a severing of the shared power to reclaim their individual selves. It wasn’t meant to kill, or to destroy. It was meant to free.

But her sisters saw it as treason.

The confrontation was swift and brutal. Magic clashed not with anger, but with grief. Agasyl and Zoratha stood side-by-side, not out of love, but out of fear—fear that without Vrothak, they were nothing. That freedom would render them powerless.

In the end, Eryndra failed.

Her sigil was ripped from the Sister Grimoire. Her hair turned silver, her hands branded with the scars of unthreaded magic. She was cast out, not slain, but erased—a sister no longer.

But Eryndra did not despair.

She disappeared into the mortal realm, hiding behind layers of fate, never staying in one place long enough to be remembered. She became a myth within a myth. Rumors tell of a white-eyed woman who appears at crossroads or deaths, offering a single question: “Do you want to walk a different path?”

Legacy and Rumors

Some say she wove herself into the bloodline of an ancient royal family. Others believe she lives on as a wandering seer, cursed to see all possibilities yet never act. A few claim she even tried to confront Zoratha once more before her death—but turned away, unwilling to slay the sister she once loved.

What’s certain is that Eryndra still exists. Somewhere. Possibly even outside the Weave now. Watching. Waiting.

Not to destroy. Not to avenge.
But to ask one final question:
“Is this truly the ending you choose?”