The First Weaver

Boredom. The greatest foe of them all. I wasn’t that old, yet, not even two centuries had passed since I had first opened my eyes on a fair, emerald island to the north but the number of years mattered very little. What we made of them was the truly important part and I had filled my days with almost everything I could think of until I had found my calling. Well, maybe it’d be more accurate to say it had found me but the distinction was mainly one of vanity, not necessity.

The hunt, the thrill of chasing after an elusive target, the rush of excitement when the final confrontation was looming just around the corner and the surge of happiness, heat and pride that always welled up, right alongside the blood of my prey. That was what I lived for, what I yearned for… what I killed for. It was more invigorating than the sun, more intimate than sex and even though I knew where this road would lead me, I’d never willingly stray from my path.

Over the years I had found likeminded… I wouldn’t call them friends but acquaintances and together we had danced behind the scenes, offering our services to the highest bidder. The coins were a mere record, though, a way to keep score and remember what we had done, what we had accomplished. When it came down to it we did it for the rush, the longing, for the thrill of pitting our lives against another… for the chance to truly live. A dangerous disposition, a spark we had willingly fanned until it had become a ravenous flame, almost like an addiction. And like every addict we hadn’t even bothered to check when someone had come knocking, promising us the high of the century…

I reclined on my throne, an open coat made from the skin of my previous victims the only garment I wore. I wasn’t sick, well, at least not as glaringly obviously as that, but the business we were in required a certain form of… let’s call it authenticity. People who came here had already taken the first hurdle, they had found us after all, but those who either stared at my body or flinched at the sight of distorted faces sewn together wouldn’t leave again. They couldn’t be trusted, they couldn’t see the sincerity in our work and thus would only ever serve as fertiliser for our plants. Today someone had come… a stranger I had never met but whispers of rumours had reached even the remote island we called home. A storm was brewing on the horizon and today I might finally be able to hear the thunder.

With a sigh I scrutinised my reflection in the dark, polished marble floor, sparkling in the light of a hundred candles, and absentmindedly retraced a smoky line of powdered blood I had drawn around my scarlet eyes. As far as first impressions went I was decently convinced that I had done everything in my power to convey who we were… and that we wouldn’t be trifled with. My white, almost translucent skin provided a disturbing contrast to the black and golden hues of the room, my soft curves challenged the angular, massive slab of violet granite I was seated on and the parchment like, yellowed leather rustled ominously with every movement, as if the souls of those we had killed begged to finally be released from their eternal prison. Slender fingers with sharpened nails scraped along the hem of my cloak as I opened my cleavage even further until it barely covered my breasts. With a mute nod I leaned back, smiling confidently. Whoever would be walking through the gilded double doors would surely have a hard time remembering their name and if they couldn’t… just this morning I had renewed the poison on my nails. It was a new concoction, supposedly causing enough pain to kill anyone over the course of a few hours. I couldn’t wait to find out.

“Let him in,” I purred, my voice causing velvety echoes to flutter through the room until the shadows around my throne quivered and moved, coalescing into a formless shape. In total silence it floated towards the door, a slight darkening of the reflective stone slabs the only trace of its passage. A moment later the heavy doors rumbled open to reveal a small man, garbed in a simple robe. He wasn’t remarkable, not in the slightest, except for his eyes. Even across the room I felt madness, hunger and confidence burn within them, turning the warm, welcoming brown into a ravenous maelstrom I could barely withstand. He didn’t even flinch, his powerful gaze never wavered from mine, apparently blind to the promises of the flesh I so willingly offered and to the cruel, decadent display of stolen years I wore around my shoulders. Oh, what a marvellous day this might yet become. This one had a spine, at least.

“Welcome stranger,” I breathed, an unspoken invitation woven into my words. “Welcome to the land of dreams where your desires might flourish… or wither. Tell me, why have you come?”

Slowly, confidently, he walked deeper into the chamber, his eyes quickly darting from the golden chandelier to my throne and finally settling on me, a cruel smile playing around the corners of his mouth. I felt cold, the warmth of my flesh sucked into those dead, uncaring holes while he walked ever closer, his attention never wavering. Neither the opulent display of gold along the ceiling nor the more subtle distraction I had turned myself into mattered. He didn’t care, he didn’t even look.

“Greetings, Lady of the Weave. I must say, you’re hard to find. It took me days and quite a few melted brains to even get close to your hideout.” I swallowed dryly. I couldn’t remember anyone coming here and threatening me with the first sentence. Even dragons knew better. But this… this creature wasn’t just anyone. I didn’t know who he was but he hadn’t come to beg. He had come to bargain. Delicious.

With a lazy, arrogant smirk he bowed to me and continued: “a land of dreams you say? How fitting… for I am here to offer you a chance to chase one of yours. If you have the courage to pursue it, that is. Unfortunately I don’t have much time so, even though I’d prefer nothing more than to trade a few witty remarks with an astonishing woman such as yourself, I’ll get straight to the point, if you don’t mind.”

“Please, do,” I replied lasciviously, even though I was thoroughly intrigued.

“You and… this little club of yours, from what I’ve heard you’re looking for ways to entertain yourselves, to challenge ever stronger foes to turn them into ever more exquisite garments to complement your breathtaking allure. I’m here with a proposition. I’m not going to pay you, I’m not even going to help you, but, if you’re willing, I’ll point you in the direction of the most powerful being you’ll ever meet. Two of them, to be precise. One for you. One for me. Bring them down and you’ll be remembered throughout the ages. Taste their blood… and you’ll finally be free.” I chuckled coldly, the shimmering stonewalls turning the echoes into a choir of depravity.

“Free? What makes you think we…,” the words withered in my throat as a spark of anger ignited in his eyes, a harbinger of destruction on a scale I couldn’t even fathom and I felt… fascinated.

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“Please, don’t insult my intelligence. Or yours for that matter. You’re as free as a drunkard after closing hour, as a sailor without a ship. The shackles that bind you are of your own design which makes them all the sturdier. You’re being consumed by the poison you willingly took. I can offer a remedy but it comes at a price. Death, most likely. But should you survive, trust me, you won’t feel the need to fill the gnawing nothingness in your soul anymore. You’ll have filed it with blood so precious, so powerful that it’ll keep you sated until the end of time.”

“Enticing promises but hollow, nonetheless. I’ve killed dragons and fey, children and elders, sorcerers and monarchs alike. What do you have to offer?”

“More,” he answered slyly. “So much more. Tell me, beautiful maiden of death, what does a hunter desire?”

“A prey that’s worth the trouble. You seem more and more like someone who could satisfy my needs.” He laughed and the sound almost made me shiver. Never before had I heard so much… pain, so much desperation. Grandiose.

“Please. This old bag of bones? It would break apart before you could even wet your knifes. Besides, I’m not really here. I simply took a… carriage, as is appropriate when meeting someone of your standing. But by all means… if it makes you feel better.” A frown appeared between his eyes and before I could do anything but stare, the skin on his left arm bubbled and tore away from the bone, leaving behind a mutilated, bleeding mass of twitching muscles and quivering tendons. The smell of blood drowned out the lingering taste of incense and molten wax as I licked my lips.

“Here,” he said and threw the dripping package at me. With a wet thud it landed in my lap and I felt its sticky warmth spread along my thighs. I could barely suppressed an excited moan as he added: “turn it into a hood, if it pleases you, or throw it away, I don’t mind either way. Now, has your thirst been quenched enough for you to listen? I won’t repeat myself and this vessel doesn’t have more than a few minutes left.” I nodded, mesmerised, while I pressed the squishy bundle deeper into my lap.

“A worthy prey… something to challenge you so thoroughly that the hunt could sustain you throughout all the dark, silent years to come. A hunt so glorious that even the memory alone will be enough to satisfy your urges. Neither dragons, nor fey, neither sorcerers nor monarchs could grant you that kind of… relief. But something else could. Something that’s not meant to break, that’s not supposed to die. If you can bring an immortal to their knees, you’ll find… fulfilment.”

“Gods,” I snorted, while I elegantly raised the bloody tip of a finger to my lips. A coppery taste filled my mouth as I added: “they’re more idea than flesh and blood. Trying to drown the ocean is as satisfying as chasing after them.” His sickening laughter filled the room again before he replied:

“You poor, ignorant child. Gods? I have imprisoned and hunted them, long before you were born, but I’ll tell you this, the strength of the creatures I’m after would make even a god seem like a toy. No, I’m not talking about a sentient construct of energy. I’m talking about living, breathing creatures with the power to change or end our world on a whim. I’m talking about the pinnacle of all existence, I’m talking about true immortals and it so happens that two of them are close by.”

“One for you, one for me,” I parroted his words. “How?” He shrugged.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be here. That’s the appeal. I don’t even know if it can be done. Enticing, isn’t it? Or should I say arousing?” Lost in thought I tried to picture the scene, to see myself standing above a huge, shadow veiled body, silver ichor surrounding me like a warm, relaxing bath, but I couldn’t. Every time I tried I only saw myself on the ground, pale and defeated, while a… surprisingly lithe creature slowly drove the tip of a spear through my heart and a final, almost happy smile formed on my face. I swallowed excitedly. Yes, either way it’d be exquisite. Unless I was being lied to. Usually I wouldn’t even have considered the possibility but this… human was about as ordinary as the prey he meant to send me after.

“It is, it seems almost too good to be true,” I breathed softly while my fingers compulsively pressed the sack of flesh closer against my skin. “Tell me more.”

“Oh… do you really want me to? Wouldn’t it spoil your fun? But I guess it can’t be helped. First off… I told you there are two. They’re inseparable, as far as I know, their magic binds them, pulls them towards each other more thoroughly than you can imagine. As long as they’re together… you won’t stand a prayer. What one doesn’t see the other will, what one doesn’t hear, the other is going to.”

“Who are they?”

“Light and fire incarnate. Living power that thunders through vessels that make even your pristine appearance seem dull, boring, mundane… ugly. But, and I guess that’s your only chance, they’re truly alive. They cry and laugh, they fear and love… in short, they aren’t perfect. If you’re as good as I’ve heard… it might be enough.”

“And if it’s not?”

“Then you won’t even feel your death…unless they want you to. I know their names… if you agree I’ll tell you. But that’s all you’re going to get from me. I’d never dare spoil the most important hunt of your life.”

“And what if I won’t agree? What if I decide to make you my next target?” He cocked and eyebrow and started at my lap suggestively.

“You won’t. The thought alone excites you, arouses you. I might give you a challenge but if you do as I ask and you deliver the black haired one to me… if you still feel the urge, I’ll give you another hunt to remember throughout the ages. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t expect you to succeed. Neither with them, nor with me, but proving old, arrogant wizards wrong is your specialty, isn’t it?”

“You’re an interesting fellow,” I purred, provocatively opening my legs until his bloody skin was all that barred his view. “What’s your name?” He didn’t even flinch.

“I’ve had many throughout the ages but my father named me Amon. Luckily that child has died long ago but the name still suits me just fine.” It was my turn to surprise him.

“Really now? I’ve heard stories, or rather whispers of stories… about an ancient land and a fallen king, about a cruel sorcerer and his bid for supremacy, ages ago. They always were my favourite nighttime read. Magnificent, what you did… out of spite and hatred, truly magnificent.” He bowed again mockingly.

“I live to please. But you shouldn’t presume to know my motives… neither then, nor now. So, Lady of Shadows, do we have a deal?”

“Two names for a single body? Sounds like a bargain to me. But, should you have lied, should reality fall short of your tempting promises, I’ll make it my life’s mission to watch you suffer.”

“Oh, don’t worry, if anything I understated what they are. You’ll see. Cassandra, Cassandra Pendragon and Ahri Arete. Those are their names and Cassandra is the one I want. Alive but not necessarily in one piece. As far as I know they’re on their way to the Emerald Island, maybe they’re already there. What an amazing coincidence, isn’t it? You can return to the land of your birth to be… reborn. Fate surely has a wicked sense of humour.” The way he said it made me pause but I couldn’t figure out if it had been the veiled insinuation about my past or something else that had caught my attention.

“You know who I am?”

“Of course, I’m royalty myself, after all, and I always try to keep up with my peers. Just as much as my story inspired you… yours made me laugh. Did you honestly think I’d come here without making sure you’d be the one I need?”

“Are you? Sure, I mean.”

“That you’re the only one who has a chance? Yes. You’re broken and hurting. We both know that’s nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to be feared. They don’t, though, despite all the years they’ve lived. But… I still think it unlikely that you’ll succeed. You have a chance, that’s all, and it is more than anyone else could ever dream of… including me.” For the first time he seemed unsettled… scared like a caged animal… as if the jaws of an invisible trap were closing in around him.