She maintained a gentle smile on her face, like that of clear sky during summer. Yet, beneath that warmth, a subtle sharpness lingered, one that aimed at Ulrich with cold scrutiny.
Unexpectedly, she didn’t pick up the silver dagger embedded in the stone floor nor walk through the veil. Instead, Rosaline stood outside, her hand tucked in her coat pocket, yet the smile on her face never dropped.
At this moment, Ulrich didn’t seem to notice anything abnormal and curtly nodded.
“I feel… great!”
After saying so, he looked at his own body, realizing that nothing had changed. Or perhaps, something had changed, but he wasn’t aware of it. Either way, there was this peculiar feeling rising in the back of his mind.
It was a kind of unfeathered freedom, a sensation similar to walking into a warm bathtub after treading outside the snow naked.
In the corner of his eyes, there were faint lines floating in the air. It was like a river of some sort, converging to the same source. Seeing this, Ulrich can’t help but raise his head, follow the paths of the lines, and eventually meet Rosaline’s figure. She stood there silently, like a vortex that suck in all the darkness in the hall.
“What are these black strings?” He blurted aloud. For some reason, his mind was like a trolley absent of lubricant. Despite this, the question rose on his mind as would an air bubble float from the bottom of a lake.
“Shadow strings.” She crooned, her right hand raised to the air. With a snap of her finger, the ‘line’ vibrated, as though a chord of an instrument was struck.
Is she showing me something?
Immediately, Ulrich took a step back. His eyes widened when those same ‘black strings’ squirmed together, forming a black mass of a cocoon. Then, the cocoon pounded, followed by a resounding thump that struck the quiet hall.
By the second ‘thump’, it moved, or slithered, or both, toward him!
“W-What are you doing?!” He wailed, raising his arm forward to grab the threads, hoping to rip it apart. Even so, his resistance fell short as he grabbed a handful of cold air.
Rosaline's smile faded, her eyes flickered with hesitation, but quickly, it disappeared, replaced with a coldness that was foreign to ‘Ulrich’. She clasped both of her hands together, interlocking her fingers, then murmured in Hermes.
“Clutching Shadows.”
“Stop!” Ulrich shouted; however, it was worthless.
The threads of shadows attached to each of his four limbs, stretching his arms and legs wide open, then hammered them to the stone floor. Ulrich struggled to move, but the more he tried, the paler he became.
Eventually, he raised his head, albeit barely, then whispered in a hushed voice, “Rosa—.”
Rosaline raised her index finger toward her crimson lip, then shushed,” Silence.”
With that gesture, another thread of black string stretched from the cocoon. It formed a dark claw and grabbed onto Ulrich’s mouth, restraining his ability to speak or make a sound.
However, because the hall is extremely quiet and still, to the point that the cackle of candlelights became audible, it was difficult to mute Ulrich’s grunt and groans entirely.
Ulrich, hurry and wake up… Or else, I will have to put you down. Her lips quivered faintly.
Rosaline reached down to fix the glasses that hung from her neck, then fiddled with a black gem on her waist, and sat back down.
Eventually, Ulrich stopped moving. It wasn’t just the movement of his arms or legs, but his chest. Rosaline's eyes narrowed, her expression was conflicted as she stood up.
She thought about recalling the chains that imprisoned him, but dismissed that idea.
At the same time, Ulrich's eyes blinked repeatedly. His body shook violently, like an invisible hand had grabbed him, then tossed him back and forth in the air. Seeing this, Rosaline quickly dispersed her Clutching Shadow, then took a step back from the veil.
In that same instant, she reached into her waist pocket to take out a black gem, but found her movement short as a familiar voice echoed in the hall.
“Why is my entire body aching…”
Hearing this, a smile gradually grew on her face, though she wasn’t entirely certain that this was ‘Ulrich’.
“You slept on the floor for a good minute,” She chuckled.
I slept on the floor... Wait— why do I feel like that’s a lie?
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Rosaline held her guard and asked, “What’s my name?”
Hearing this, Ulrich furrowed his brows, “Is there a secret answer or joke I'm unaware of?”
Rosaline’s face softened a little. Still, she raised another question, “What do you think about Captain Ottis?”
What’s with these questions… Is it inherent for Weavers to have such eccentric hobbies of asking random questions?
However, he noticed that her tone was serious, and her expression a little solemn. The Rosaline he knew was radiant and full of life, like that of spring. This side of Rosaline reminded him of that moment when she stood in front of the Abomination, and that moment when she performed her earnest prayers.
Clearly, something had happened while he was ‘gone’. Realizing this, Ulrich grew silent and considered his answer carefully.
“I have only interacted with him a couple of times, but I think he is a bit too forgetful. I feel like his actions are often contradictory. He is meticulous, yet the small things seem to escape his grasp easily…”
With that said, he turned to Rosaline to observe her reaction. There was a change, one so subtle that he wouldn’t have noticed if not for his aged experience from Earth.
It looks like I passed…
“Phew..” Rosaline let out a deep breath, then smiled, “You missed it, but congratulations, you are now a Rank 1 Weaver, Shadowmancer. How do you feel?”
“Weird and oppressive,” He said, then turned his head to look at Rosaline, “I never noticed it until now, but those black strings around you… Are they from the Shadow path?”
“Yes. Once you reach rank 3, you will have a ‘chance’ to obtain it.”
Rank 3? Then she is at least rank 3! But she looks so young…
“You are a rank 3 Shadowmancer? And what do you mean by ‘chance’? I thought the abilities that existed had a fixed number. Shouldn’t they be guaranteed as long as you advance upward?”
She shook her head and clarified his misunderstanding, “Firstly, all Weavers, despite walking down the same path, are different. This is due to a difference in ‘Talents’ and ‘Spells’. I will explain this later.”
Ulrich wasn’t unfamiliar with these two terms, so he nodded to show his understanding.
“You must know that a rank 1 Weaver typically obtains one spell and two talents upon their awakening. This number can vary. The spells and talents stem from the bestowment of the runes; they come in the forms of ‘memories’.”
“Secondly, we do not know how many abilities there are out there from any given path. And the bestowment of these abilities is entirely random, all depending on the user themselves.”
An unknown number of abilities?
“What do you mean by depending on the user?”
“For example, a painter, should they awaken as a Weaver, will most likely obtain talents relating to ‘painting’. A warrior will certainly possess ‘talents’ corresponding to battle. What I mean is, talents can be influenced, but spells cannot.”
“However, some spells do require certain talents. In the Shadow path, there is a spell called “Clutching Shadows”, which requires “Shadow Vision”. Without Shadow Vision, you will never obtain Clutching Shadows.”
With that said, she urged him to close his eyes and focus his mind, “Clear your thoughts. At this point, you should be able to feel your own spirituality. There should be ‘cards’ floating in your psyche. All you need to do is focus on them, and the content will become clear.”
The steps are similar… He followed her instructions and found three cards floating leisurely in his psyche.
When he focused on them, the content appeared in his mind: Shadow Vision, Dark Arrow, and Blessings of the Shadow.
Shadow vision allowed him to see ‘shadows’ in tangible form, while dark arrow is as explicit as its name, a conjuration of arrows made from shadow. As for the Blessing of the Shadows, it had no description.
At this moment, Rosaline noticed Ulrich opening his eyes, so she assumed that he must have seen his abilities.
“The memories contain descriptions of each spell and talents, but these descriptions are vague and brief. Every Weaver's goal is to experiment and pry into the secret of these abilities.”
With that said, Rosaline stepped forward, then bent toward the ground to pluck the dagger off the floor. Immediately, the veil was lifted. This time, Ulrich was able to see the string of shadows retracting into Rosaline’s figure with the assistance of his Shadow Vision.
As he narrowed his eyes, a stream of liquid dripped down his cheek.
Water from the ceiling? He raised his hand to wipe it off, then looked at his finger.
It's blood!
Rosaline also noticed the stream of blood from his eyes and quickly warned him, “Close your eyes and try to rein in your spirituality. Just imagine the invisible threads retreating into your body.”
Imagine the threads retracting back in my body… After about a minute, he was able to open his eyes again. The blood had already dried. And his vision was normal again.
Just using my shadow vision briefly causes me to bleed?
Rosaline walked up and handed him a spare handkerchief.
“As Weavers, you are no longer ordinary. Remember, the most dangerous thing for us is losing our sanity.” She paused, as though to rummage through her words, then smiled, “Did you recall my words when swallowing that rune?”
Words? He was reminded of that horrifying experience of sinking for an eternity in the depths, tempted by countless voices and whispers.
“Yes. Don’t listen and look at things I shouldn’t look at.”
“In our line of work, we will often encounter bizarre things, hear things we shouldn’t hear, and see things that shouldn’t be there. Remember this: never let curiosity control you.
Fear, when compared to curiosity, is but a fleeting thing!”
By the time her words bounced off the crooked wall, Ulrich realized, the path that he tread on was more bleak than he could ever have imagined.
But here I am, He jested at himself.
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