The Fates (v2.3)

<img src="img/forest-wide.png"> <h2>[[Play|00]]</h2> <p><img src="img/sound.png"> This story uses sound, please turn your speakers on</p> //(text-style:"underline")[Content warning]: Certain story themes may be sensitive to some readers. [Reveal triggers]<trigger|(click: ?trigger)[ (replace: ?trigger)[Potential triggers include: horror, water, drowning] ].// [[Credits|Credits]]

<img src="img/bubbles-wide.png"> Three bubbles appear to you more prominently than the rest. One bubble for each fate. Three they were, the fates. Three choices they offer. Each as perilous and rewarding. All lead into death—and beyond. [[One bubble with a splintered tree, heavy with pomegranate seed.|02.1]] [[The second bubble with a lake, its depths murky and bottomless.|02.2]] [[The third bubble with a stormy peak, its winds cold and howling.|02.3]] <audio src="audio/bubbles.mp3" autoplay>

The [[moon]] is high. It could be today, tomorrow, or yesterday. Up above, thin, wispy clouds form the shape of something recognisable. [[The shape of a leaping wolf.|03.1]] [[The shape of an owl in flight.|03.2]] [[The shape of a stretching cat.|03.3]]

The forestbed is deep with moss, the trees heavy with lichen. You walk through a tunnel of evergreens, their drooping branches tickling your scalp. You think you see the swish of a cat’s tail in the thickets, but you blink, and it is gone. [[Follow the cat into the thickets.|05.1]] [[Continue along the verdant tunnel.|05.2]]

You part the ferns and emerge in a small cove. The housecat is sitting atop a small boulder, its tail tucked over its paws. [[Pet the kitty.|05.1.1]] [[Say "hey pretty kitty" from afar.|05.1.2]]

The tunnel becomes more narrow, more overgrown. The trees lose their volume, becoming naked and scraggly. [[Break one of the branches.|05.2.1]] [[Avoid breaking the branches.|05.2.2]]

The cat doesn’t react to your touch, and its [[expression]] doesn’t change. It shifts its head to the right. [[Continue toward the right.|06]]

The cat’s lids close and open slowly. Its [[expression]] doesn’t change, though it shifts its head to the right. [[Continue to the right.|06]]

You part the bare branches of a dead tree, scratching your skin. Ahead you see a slanting wood of tall, proud oaks, their canopies so thick you can’t discern the light of the moon. [[Continue.|07]]

The branches pull away from you, drawing nearer to their trunks. [[Continue.|06]]

The forest seems to breathe around you, like a living thing. [[Continue.|06]]

The scent here is of rotten leaves and newly rained soil. In the distance, you hear the faint echoes of a screech. Growing louder. Closer. [[You hide behind a trunk.|08.1]] [[You stay absolutely still.|08.2]] <audio src="audio/monster-screech.mp3" autoplay>

You squeeze yourself behind a large trunk, keeping your limbs close to your body. But hearing without seeing is worse. (text-style:"sway")[[[Peek around the trunk.|09]]] <audio src="audio/stomping-leshen.mp3" autoplay>

Your breath seems to come cold, small puffs of condensation clouding your vision. The screeching reverberates in your ears, until you can’t tell from which direction the sound is coming. [[Close your eyes.|11]] <audio src="audio/breathing.mp3" autoplay>

You feel more than see the hulking shape part the foliage beside you. The rumbling is in your stomach now, like an earthquake. Then it passes and all is silent. [[Open your eyes.|12]] <audio src="audio/rumbling.mp3" autoplay>

A horn parts the canopy, as that of an elk. Impossibly tall, impossibly large, and then gone. As if it never were. [[Check that the coast is clear.|12.1]] [[Cross the oaken wood.|13]] <audio src="audio/stomping-leshen.mp3" autoplay>

On the other side, the ancient roots of the oaks straddle the sloping turf of a riverbed. Wet leaves make for a treacherous approach. [[Hurry toward the river.|14.1]] [[Pick your way carefully toward the river.|14.2]] <audio src="audio/river-steady.mp3" autoplay>

In your haste you slip, and slide on the wet leaves down to the riveredge. Managing to stop just in time, you find yourself face to face with the water. [[Gaze into the water.|15]]

You walk with care, making your way down to the riveredge without falling. There you stop, gazing into the water. [[Look into the depths.|15]]

You see a shape materialise in the depths. Something growing larger, more angular. [[Look more closely.|16]] <audio src="audio/bubbles.mp3" autoplay>

<img src="img/boat-wide.png"> When it surfaces, you see it is an old wooden boat, barely managing to stay afloat. [[Carefully board the boat.|16.1]] [[Jump onto the boat.|16.2]]

The boat seems to move of its own volition. There’s no steersman, and no wind. Just the waters, guiding the boat along the river. (text-style:"buoy")[[[Check where the boat is headed.|18]]] <audio src="audio/river.mp3" autoplay>

Whispering voices rise from the waters, enveloping you. Some soft and murmuring. Others frantic and insisting. [["Fate," one whispers.|19.1]] [["Death," whispers another.|19.2]] [["Birth," whispers the last.|19.3]] <audio src="audio/whisper.mp3" autoplay>

It is a woman's voice, calm and sure. You peer down into the river, and see a human shape swimming within the currents. She is transluscent, not quite flesh. Her hair long and trailing, dark as weed. Her mouth is open in a scream, and her eyes are closed forevermore. [[Touch the water.|20]]

It is a man's voice, filled with resigned remorse. You peer down into the river, and see a human shape swimming within the currents. He is opaque, dark and gleaming like oil. His skull devoid of hair, his lips parted in a sigh. The eyes languid, half-lidded and unseeing forevermore. [[Touch the water.|20]]

It is a child's voice, trilling like a bird's. You peer down into the river, and see a small, human shape swimming within the currents. The child is white like bone. Its few hairs swirling about the face, the eyes wide and staring. [[Touch the water.|20]]

The moment your hand disturbs the surface, the human shape dissipates into mists and bubbles. The bubbles are everywhere, some clear as crystal, some clouded like a blind eye. Images shimmer within their bulbs, a flicker of a place, a scene. [[A memory.|20.1]] [[A future.|20.2]] [[A dream.|20.3]] <audio src="audio/bubbles.mp3" autoplay>

(text-style:"italic","smear","sway")[You have chosen your fate.] Your vision splinters at the edges. All grows dark, though the image remains imprinted in your brain. Dizzy and disoriented, you faint. [[Wake up.|03]] (set: $fateChoice to 1)

<img src="img/cottage-wide.png"> The door to the cottage is carved with runes, and the cottage is lit up by fat, dripping candles. There is a scent of pungent herbs and spices, of cloves and lilac. Glancing up, you see dried braids of plants hanging from the ceiling, amidst clattering old bones. [[Back|00]]

<img src="img/cloud-wolf.png"> The wolf dissolves with the faint echo of a howl, the sound guiding you toward a path in the woods. [[Continue.|04]] (set: $cloudShape to 1) <audio src="audio/wolf-howl.mp3" autoplay>

<img src="img/cloud-owl.png"> The owl shoots out of the sky with a swish of wings, paving a path through the woods. [[Continue.|04]] (set: $cloudShape to 2) <audio src="audio/owl-wings.mp3" autoplay>

<img src="img/cloud-cat.png"> The cat undulates from its stretch and pounces on the moon, illuminating a path in the woods. [[Continue.|04]] (set: $cloudShape to 3)

It is a half moon. One half dark, one half silver. [[Back.|03]]

//A memory...// But you can't go back. You can only go forward. [[Go forward.|21]]

//A future...// But there is no future without the present. [[Stay in the present.|21]]

//A dream...// But this is no dream. This is reality. This is life or death. [[Stay in the here and now.|21]]

The boat suddenly stops. Ahead is a silver shore, and above the moon is full. [[Step ashore.|22]]

The boat sinks back into the river. But the bubbles multiply in tenfold. They float up from the water, sailing up to the sky in wispy trails of mists. Places, people, objects - that you have known and yet not come to know. [[They shackle me to the past.|23.1]] [[They pave the path to desolation.|23.2]] [[They are opportunities for the future.|23.3]] <audio src="audio/bubbles.mp3" autoplay>

Choice is twofold. You have chosen, but fate has also chosen for you. There is a tree before you. An old tree, and not entirely whole. Its burden might be its last. [[Discover your fate.|24.1]] <audio src="audio/forest.mp3" autoplay>

Choice is twofold. You have chosen, but fate has also chosen for you. Your shores are short, and your river has not ended. [[Discover your fate.|24.2]] <audio src="audio/river.mp3" autoplay>

You take a step, and your foot becomes wet. The waters expand, stretching afar, fed from the ever-flowing river. The lake grows and grows, until your feet are submerged. Then your knees. Your waist. Your head. Will you let yourself be submerged? [[Yes.|25.2.1]] [[No.|25.2.2]]

Choice is twofold. You have chosen, but fate has also chosen for you. The peak you glean among the clouds is high. And far. And punishing. [[Discover your fate.|24.3]] <audio src="audio/wind.mp3" autoplay>

The splintered branches are grey with decay, the leaves withered to a crisp. Hanging from the branches are glistening pomegranates, red and ripe. Ready for the taking. A treasure. And a price. Will you pluck the pomegranate? [[Yes.|25.1.1]] [[No.|25.1.2]]

There is no path to tread. No guide to lean on. The winds seem to beat you down with every step. You are not strong enough. Not brave enough. Whispers. And perhaps truths. Will you climb the peak? [[Yes.|25.3.1]] [[No.|25.3.2]]

//Yes. // Continuum. It's what you've chosen all your life. You've paid the price, you've plucked your reward. You've squeezed every last bit out of what you have. But are you content with this bargain? Your remaining time will tell. [[Fulfil your fate.|26.2]] <audio src="audio/forest.mp3" autoplay>

//No. // When faced with easy temptation, it's hard to resist. The red and ripe pomegranate - why shouldn't you pluck it? But you've paid too much. And the rewards have not been worth it. Now, you have a chance to face your fate. And choose another path. [[Escape your fate.|26.1]] <audio src="audio/forest.mp3" autoplay>

//Yes.// Your clothes are heavy on your body. But when the water closes over your head, you are adrift. Weightless. Unburdened. With no direction and no motive. Giving up is easy. But will you? [[Fulfil your fate.|26.2]] <audio src="audio/river-steady.mp3" autoplay>

//No.// The cold embrace of water calls you, but you will not be embraced. You tread against the murky waters, you blink your eyes against a swarm of brown. You're disoriented. the weight of the water dragging you down. But all that has not ended must continue. Your path has not ended. [[Escape your fate.|26.1]] <audio src="audio/river.mp3" autoplay>

//Yes.// Sheets of ice cut your face. Your hands, chapped, bleeding, attempt to shield your eyes. With each step, the path is paved. You dare not glance down, but as every step makes your situation more dire, you sense you're getting closer. With your head held high, you shoulder on. [[Fulfil your fate.|26.2]] <audio src="audio/wind.mp3" autoplay>

//No.// The winds and snow confuse your direction. You climb one way, only to climb the same again. The howling voices become louder. You're not ready. And that is okay. [[Escape your fate.|26.1]] <audio src="audio/wind.mp3" autoplay>

<h1>The Fates</h1>

<img src="img/cauldron-wide.png"> You open the door to a [[cottage]]. Inside you find a steaming, bubbling [[cauldron]]. From the cauldron you hear whispered voices, but you cannot make out their words. Inside each floating bubble you discern images playing in quick succession. An impression of a place, a scene, a path. [[Approach the cauldron.|01]] <script> var music = document.createElement('audio'); music.src = "audio/bgmusic.mp3"; music.loop = true; music.play(); </script>

<img src="img/cauldron-wide.png"> The cauldron, large enough to fit a child, stands on a bed of slithering mists. It shows signs of frequent use. Behind it, in the shadows, you see the swishing tail and glowing eyes of a housecat. [[Back|00]] <audio src="audio/bubbles.mp3" autoplay></audio>

For a heartbeat, the cat is no ordinary housecat. Instead, its canines are long and sharp and glistening wet. Its eyes huge and luminous. But the vision is gone in a flash. [[Back|05.1.2]]

The fates have spoken, but you have not obeyed. Perhaps this is what you wanted. Perhaps not. Choice has spoken. ~ THE END ~ [[Credits.|Credits]]

The fates have spoken, and you have obeyed. Perhaps this is what you wanted. Perhaps not. Choice has spoken. ~ THE END ~ [[Credits.|Credits]] <audio src="audio/danger.mp3" autoplay>

An interactive story by Dimitra Papacosta and Justyna Fryczak. Made at Global Game Jam Jörn 2025. ''Story and writing'' Dimitra Papacosta ''Design and code'' Justyna Fryczak ''Sketches'' SkullZ - - - ''Stock Photos from Unsplash.com'' Alessio Soggetti Alex Fxrw Daniel Angele Feliphe Schiarolli Patrick Perkins Taylor Wright Thomas Stephan Viktor Talashuk ''Icons from TheNounProject.com'' Muhammad Syaifuddin ''Music and sounds from Pixabay.com'' RibhavAgrawal Freesound community CryptologyMedia - - - *All elements in this story are fictional. Any references to real world events are unintentional.* //(text-style:"underline")[Content warning]: Certain story themes may be sensitive to some readers. [Reveal triggers]<trigger|(click: ?trigger)[ (replace: ?trigger)[Potential triggers include: horror, water, drowning] ].// [[Back to the beginning|Begin]]

The boat sways a little, but remains stable enough for you to take a seat on the stern. [[Continue.|17]]

The boat sways wildly, admitting water into the hull, but you manage to gain control of your balance. Once the boat stabilises, you take a seat at the stern. [[Continue.|17]]

The woods are still once more, with no hint of its earlier apparition. It feels like a vision from a dream. [[Cross the oaken wood.|13]]

You feel as though something is watching you. Something on the alert. Your muscles begin to shake under the strain. (text-style:"shudder")[[[Don't move.|09]]] <audio src="audio/stomping-leshen.mp3" autoplay>

The branches, shivering in a small breeze, seem to take shape. An approximation of a horn. The movement of a limb. The gravity of a step. The soil beneath your feet shivers, and small beetles and worms abandon their burrows and flee. (text-style:"buoy")[[[Take a breath.|10]]]

You cannot see where the river is headed. Around you, the woods vanish into the mists. Veins of light shoot across the surface, a storm raging within. [[Lean over the gunwale.|19]]