A bit less darker then the previous chapter. Most of early chapters are going to be a little bit slow, especially Kai's (T_T) BUT I'm hoping that by chapter 7 or 8-ish it's going to increase it's pace. If there are any mistakes in the sentences please let me know. The next chapter is going to be from Nick's perspective.

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She was looking at the outside, beyond the barrier, beyond the walls of the city of Amrolk at the golden mountains of sand illuminating falling sun, making the desert seem even brighter than usual. Yawning, covered in the shade of the tree similar to that of a maple tree, she recollected her day full of studies and lamented about the heat. Even though the barrier was regulating the temperature and humidity to a certain extent, it still annoyed her.  

‘From one extreme to another...’- she thought while thinking about her home. Amrolk unlike her, wasn’t planning for any sleep as the night was approaching. Leaning over the ledge of the tower, she could clearly see merchants energetically annoying tired adventurers with their goods, varying from different armour, weapons to potions and enchanted talismans, people on the markets bargaining for better prices, more adventurers and people coming in through the main gates. Amrolk never slept. Both because it was a stopping point before Eridelle’s Chasm, a giant hole in the desert with an incredible magical density and because of Amrolk’s institution where people sell any artefacts that they find in the chasm as well as try out to become a weavers themselves, or so she was told. They told her a lot about this place in the last 2 weeks.

‘Weaving…’- a thought passed her as she looked at the small floating ball of sand in her hand. It was tightly compressed and to her looked relatively smooth.

Weaving, an art of manipulating threads of mana in order to directly influence the world, causing the phenomena to happen, in other words known as magic. Weavers are revered by the society of Amrolk and majority of Hjaalren in general, as their manipulation of mana is very similar to the concept of the Tree of Cycles weaving fates for everything and everyone.

Every miracle, spell and manipulation that weaver creates is done by means of controlling the threads. Like an intricate puppeteer controlling the strings, making the doll dance or a spider skilfully weaving it’s web, the weavers create spells and manipulate objects through the feeling of connection with these invisible threads.

Deconstructing the ball in a pile of sand in her hand, she tried to focus, to grasp the feeling of the threads. Silky, invisible, blue, grey, white, yellow, rough, sharp, thin, thick, warm, cold, she imagined different types of possible threads that she could or hoped to grasp. Failing in doing so, she sighed and focused her attention on the sand, on each grain of it. In less than a second a floating flower appeared in her hand. She never really knew how she was doing it; she just knew that she could. Sighing again, she returned her gaze at the sunset and the never-sleeping city bathed in it, keeping in mind that soon she has to head off.

“Allana.”- a soft voice behind her spoke.

The blonde in her late teens turned around just to see a beautiful young woman with silver hair in a simple blue dress. The woman despite her simple clothing had an aura of elegance around her. Allana never has seen any true royalty before, only on TV and the internet, but the first time she saw her, she knew she was of a noble birth.

“Mistress Meral?” – Allana said as she stood up and quickly bowed. She was already used to customs in this place, especially after couple of incidents that she had.

“An outstanding performance by you today, you deem surprise us every day and as I can see you had a lot of fun with the glass cube that I gave, I did not expect you to be able to revert it to its original state, so soon. What can I say. Impressive.”- Mistress pointed out, with a rather strong Nordic accent, emphasizing on the word ‘impressive’. This was another thing that annoyed her about this place.

Ignoring her mild annoyance she quickly formed a sand cube a moment later only to change it into glass, then quickly put it in her pocket.

“I apologize, Mistress Meral, but I was about to leave the gardens and do some of the assignments that I have received earlier today.” – humbly, she tried to get away… and failed.

“Why so? You have already done one of the assignments just now. Surely, you have a lot more free time then you think child. Come. Join me for a short walk.” – her teacher insisted with a gentle smile on her face.

Allana sighed and cringed in her mind then followed, remembering principal’s words.

‘Many will try to shift you on their side, to manipulate you for their own benefit, especially some of the teachers as they will without doubt realise first, the overwhelming amount of potential you possess. A child not of this world with raw magical power, unrefined and not nurtured similar in capacity to that of an adept weaver, many would seek to have this power. Do not trust anyone in this den of snakes, even me.’

The first week she was ridiculed by the students as a foreigner whom did not uptake an official initiation upon entrance. Not to mention the fact that she skipped straight into the second cycle of weaving classes, completely ignoring 5 years of meticulous training that the students undergone. Her manners as a foreigner were horrible and to everyone she seemed like a pushover. But it was a different matter for the teachers as they could fully sense the size of her magical power. Some teachers treated her same as every other student, some were nice and helpful as she was a new student and a foreigner, but some were overly nice and too helpful, like Mistress Meral, giving the impression that she is their favourite further worsening her relationship with the students. Until the incident where she flung the student in the air, accidentally of course, displaying power and control far exceeding that of her peers, but only displaying. In reality, the magic took course only following her strong emotion of rage, hearing that the principal was even more amazed if not baffled. After the quick investigation it was found out that the other side was instigating it resulting in her punisments while Allana herself was finally acknowledged by her cohort and this week started to make some friends, keeping in mind principal’s words.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“…Allana, my girl, are you listening?” – Meral asked gently, with a slight tingle of irritation.

“I am sorry, Mistress. But I am too tired. The use of magic has taken a toll on me today.” – she answered, while bowing apologetically. In reality she was tired and weaving was a part of it too, but only a part of it.

“I understand. We shall have this conversation another day then. I wish you good night. May the threads protect your dreams.” – her teacher replied understandingly giving her a warm smile.

“Thank you, Mistress. Good night. I shield my dreams in the light.”- Allana replied while returning her a smile as well.

She didn’t particularly notice, lost in her thoughts but it was already dark and she was in the inner courtyard of Magus Artonne, a main lecture building or a castle in its own sense. Contrary to what Meral said a walk from the Garden Towers to this place is nowhere near short.

‘Great.’ – with this thought Allana headed to her own room.

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“You fockin’ bas…” – a mass of bulging fat and grease couldn’t finish its sentence as Nick punched it in the face.

Being rather pissed off at the treatment this pig gave the waitress, he subconsciously activated his ability, morphing some of the skin on the pig’s face with the skin on his fist, particularly his knuckles. Both parties' skin when morphed fully evaporated, causing them both pain, which added a bit more strength to Nick’s strike and added a tiny bit more of pain to the swine. The punch connected well, throwing the pig over someone else’s table.

“Sorry, guys. I’ll pay you later.” – he apologised to the people that were seating at the table before.

“Nah, t’s all good, Nick. Need help with’im?” – said one of the gents, while unsheathing his sword. His name was something like Jarg.

“Nope, he’s mine. First come, first served.” – he gave them a smile, then glanced backwards. A giant of a man Khern, this inn’s bouncer was already carrying 2 of this guy’s unconscious friends outside, to the pigsty.

Seeing that, Nick decided to take a liberty in having a little bit more fun.

“You shit’ead, the fock yo’ do to mah face you cu…”

As Nick landed his boot on the pig’s face he could hear a crunch underneath it. He then gave him a kick in the ribs, causing a yelp to come out of the pig’s mouth. Lifting the pig by the collar of his robe, drenched in it’s blood, to the appropriate and comfortable punching position, he praised the robes quality half expectant for it rip off under the weight of his obese carcass.

“Squeal.” – he ordered as he commenced punching him in the face.

He wasn’t punching strong enough to knock him out, but just right to cause him bruises and, most of all, pain. The missing skin on his 2 knuckles was annoying him, but he really didn’t pay much attention to it. If the pain did anything it fuelled his rage. To further increase his victim's fun time he was mainly aiming at his already broken nose.

To Nick’s amusement the pig actually started to squeal, probably in hopes that he will stop… but nope.

After couple of more punches, he felt a big hand on his shoulder, it was Khern’s.

“No killing’ere. Yo’kno that Nick.” – a deep voice rung behind him.

“Yes~, I’m already done.” – said Nick as he gave the pig one last punch, letting him fall at the same time.

Khern not particularly reacting but seeming rather mused, in his own special way, quietly picked up the pig by its leg without any effort and carried him outside.

Nick being fairly satisfied with what he’s done, rubbed his knuckles and then walked towards the group of people that were calming the waitress in question, Chelly.

On close inspection the girl had a big blue bruise on her cheek and just stopped crying, thanks to everyone’s collective help both her fellow waitresses and adventurer’s as well.

Seeing that everything’s relatively all right he waved at Chelly whom just noticed him, gave her a wink and walked towards the innkeeper, a jolly man in his forties with a big, white, glorious beard and payed him for the damages he has done. It was only fair. He joined the fight even though the bouncer would’ve dealt with it a lot faster, more efficient then him and most importantly without any damages, plus taking money from someone you just beaten the living shit out of is a crime in any world.

“On second thought, here’s a bit more.” – he said as he took out another pouch from his pocket, he did get a lot after killing today’s monster.

“Drinks on everyone today from me!” – the loud words that he proclaimed across the whole inn, were met with cheers.

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