After tying up Luis with some rope, Rudolph led Silas to the divination room.

The two men sat across from each other.

Mr. Rudolph contemplated for a second and then began, "You get three questions."

Three questions! For two Talends!

Silas decided not to argue.

"Well, I want to know what a domain is, how to form a contract with a spirit, and if there are any risks associated with weaving."

Mr. Rudolph spared no time.

"A domain is the foundation your powers originate from. For example, I have psychic powers, therefore I'm from the psychic domain. Simple enough, right?"

Silas nodded, absorbing the information.

"Secondly, the contract. This is by far the most important part, so pay attention."

"To actually make a contract, you first need to summon a creature through a ritual."

"The ritual itself is simple: you just need to spill a bit of your blood into a pool of mercury. The tricky part is actually where you initiate the ritual and 'signing' the contract."

"Choosing where and when to perform the ritual is extremely important since the powers you obtain can be anything. The spirit you summon is connected with a certain domain, and the creature that appears is determined by the location and events happening around you during the ritual."

"For example, if you conduct a ritual during a dance, you'll probably summon a spirit from the dance domain."

Mr. Rudolph took a deep breath before continuing. "Holy sh*t, that was a mouthful."

Silas chuckled softly, but his eyes remained focused.

"Finally, the risks. The contract is probably the most dangerous part. The world where the creatures come from, the Sky Above, is slowly dying. So they'll try to take control of you to escape their impending doom."

"It's also technically illegal. The government has prohibited it due to the potential chaos of a spirit taking control. Have you ever wondered why East Shore Island is an out-of-bounds area?"

"Finally, weaving powers are not meant for humans. Every time you use your powers, you inflict physical and mental damage on yourself."

Rudolph leaned back, his face serious. "Oh, and try not to mention this information to anyone. Weaving is a mostly forgotten practice."

That was a lot to digest, it seems the risks outweigh the benefits.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"So, could I become a Weaver?" Silas asked.

"What's your motivation?" Rudolph was taken aback.

"Well, I think becoming a Weaver could help with my money problems. I could take some bounty missions, or even become a mercenary."

"Hey, that's a pretty good idea. I even make my living off my powers." Mr. Rudolph replied in a more playful tone.

After chatting a bit more with his teacher, Silas drifted asleep on the very chair he was sitting in.

...

Looking around, a young man could see a town square. Or at least what was left of it.

Dead bodies piled up, some still twitching, their hands clawed at their faces. Deer-like creatures with the legs of a spider walked around. Craters covered most of the area.

Previously intact merchant carts had been thrown around in some explosion.

The wind blew and rain started to fall, covering the eclipse in the sky.

The young man spotted a figure in the distance. It seemed to be wearing a mask with intricate carvings of eyes on it.

The mask, almost hypnotic, drew his gaze, making it hard to look away. The figure wore a simple gray cloak that fluttered slightly in the breeze, giving it an ethereal appearance.

In its right hand, the figure held a violin. The instrument was old, its wooden surface worn smooth by countless performances. The bow, held delicately in the left hand, seemed almost an extension of the figure's arm.

As it started playing, the surrounding chaos paused, its attention solely focused on the violin.

Then the figure stopped playing, turned around, and locked eyes with the young man.

A cold shiver ran through the young man's spine.

He felt a prickly feeling on his skin.

Looking down, the young man could see something bubbling under his skin.

He took a step back but seemed to run into a brick wall.

Looking back, a big wall with murals on it had appeared out of nowhere.

The murals depicted a towering mountain with a small town at its base.

People went by with their normal day-to-day tasks. Going to work. Going shopping for groceries or training in swordsmanship.

They talked with each other and shared memories.

In the following murals, disaster struck.

The town was hit by dozens of floods, thunderstorms, and earthquakes.

The small town slowly but surely got destroyed.

With every disaster, the young man could see people trying to run. To no avail.

After taking his time looking at the murals, he turned his gaze to the last one.

The last mural was missing one half.

But the young man could see an obviously out-of-place object.

An oval hovered in the sky. It emitted a blinding white light. A black liquid slowly flowed out of it, eating everything in its path.

The young man felt inclined to touch it.

He reached out with his right arm, his skin still bubbling, ready to burst.

He got closer and closer and closer until something stopped him. A hand held a firm grip on the young man's arm.

Next to him, the figure had appeared. This time it was not wearing a mask.

Brown hair with streaks of blond flowed down the figure's back.

Its pale almond-shaped gray eyes were fixed on the young man.

The figure had a triangular face, with slightly curved eyebrows and a thin nose.

A female silhouette could be seen under the cloak.

With her warm voice, she said, "I wouldn't touch that if I were you."

Her eyes narrowed.

"You're not supposed to be here."

With a simple tug at the violin on the woman's side, the skin of the young man burst!

Skin split and tore as wriggling maggots chewed their way through.

The young man screamed, a raw, guttural sound that was quickly silenced by dozens of maggots eating his throat from the inside out.

As his vision blurred, and he felt more and more fatigued, he could only hear one thing.

The sound of a violin.

...

BOOM!

Silas jolted awake. He tried maintaining his balance, but was unable and he ended up falling from the chair.

What the f*ck was that dream! It felt almost realistic.

Before he could properly digest what had happened in his sleep, Mr. Rudolph's raspy voice sounded from the staff room.

"Hey, Silas. Could you go get me some wine?"