He fingered the edges of the cards in his hand. The roughness of his fingertips caught on the heavily worn edges of the card before he selected one. Deadpan, he pulled out one of the cards and tossed it on the table. It fell to the rough wood and skidded forward until it came to a rest, perfectly lined up with the two cards before it. Around his wrist, a tiny charm bracelet jingled from the dozen metallic bells than hung along the chain.
The others at the table leaned forward to read the cards. The din of the tavern they were in was like a warm blanket, comfortable and familiar. One of the card players wiped the dirt from his face, a clod of farm land dropping down and bouncing off the table. He snarled as he flung himself back into his chair, reaching for a half-empty mug of beer.
“Damn it, Hammond, that’s the fifth time you’ve cleaned me out this month!”
The owner of the bracelet shrugged, his face in a dead mask.
“Just luck, I guess.”
His voice was a soft drawl, an accent both completely out of place and somehow unremarkable for a man who never went further than a mile outside of town.
“Yeah, I notice you never seem to lose.”
“I lost yesterday, don’t you remember?”
The farmer frowned for a moment.
“No… not really.”
Hammond gave him a quick, impersonal smile, “So, I don’t always win.”
“Yeah… I guess.”
Grumbling, the farmer leaned forward and gathered up all the cards. Shuffling them roughly, he dealt out another game. Hammond sniffed and reached out to grab his cards.
He froze, his eyes resting on his bracelet. One of the bells was black, as if it corroded in a single instant. The others also stopped, cards in their hands, staring at the bell.
“Hammond, when did that bracelet of yours… you know, tarnish.”
Hammond lifted his arm, his muscles rippling as he brought the bracelet closer to his bright silvered eyes. The only betrayal of his thoughts was the long silence as he stared at the bell. The others began to shift uncomfortably when the near silent farmer did not even twitch.
Then, with one fluid movement, he stood up, leaving the cards behind.
“I need to go.”
The farmer who was speaking frowned.
“What, now?”
Hammond nodded, his drawling voice filling the tavern.
“Yes… this is important.”
Around him, silence spread out in a pool. Eyes turned to watch as Hammond pushed his seat back in and left the tavern quickly. The door swung slowly shut but everyone’s eyes remained locked on it long after the sounds of his boots faded away in the darkness.
Outside, Hammond’s boots crushed the ground of fall loudly. His jaw with tight with annoyance, the only other sound being the tiny bells that rang out from his wrists. He looked up at the darkness, his eyes barely able to catch a single thread of the moon just disappearing into the night. Hissing, he shook his head and kept on walking. His path took him along the narrow trail leading up to his farm. Branches from the thin lengths of forests between the farms snagged at his coat but he ignored them until he came out into the clearing.
He paused at the edge of his farm, then started to trek back up to his home, a one-story building that was well over a century old. He knew it like the back of his hand which only made sense since he remembered building it.
As he reached his porch, a high-pitched neighing filled the air as a horse burst out of the darkness, racing up toward the house. Hammond ignored it as he pushed open the door and flung open a chest. Grabbing a saddle and a pack, he spun on his heels and left his home. The door shut behind him as the horse came skidding to a halt in front of him.
In the darkness, it looked like some beast from hell, a black shadow of form as it pawed the ground below. He threw the saddle over it with a warning hiss.
“Freeze.”
The horse froze utterly at his sharp hiss and he saddled the horse, pulling the straps tight with sharp, precise movements. Without checking the straps, he threw his saddlebags in the proper place and strapped them tightly down. A few moments of silence later and he was up on the horse. He hissed at the horse in his deadpan voice.
“Run.”
The horse started to move, as if time let it once again life its life. It started to rear, then stopped. Taking one step forward, it lurched into a trot, then into a gallop as it circled around the farmhouse and raced for the darkness of the trees. Hammond bent his body along the creature’s form as closed his eyes as it slammed into the forest, cutting through branches and underbrush like an enchanted knife.
The horse ran throughout the night, until the dawn lit up the horizon with the orange flare of morning. Hammond watched as his horse raced along a dry riverbed, the hooves sparking along the ground. His eyes were dry but unblinking as he nudged the horse up along a caved-in side of the edge. The horse didn’t hesitate as it scrambled up along the rough stone and dirt.
Up on top, Hammond spotted a small village, the same size as the one he just left and hissed out another command.
“Stop.”
The horse came to a gentle stop, his head bowed as it pawed the ground. Hammond sat up straight in his saddle and took a deep breath. Below him, the horse’s true colors became apparently with the first beam of morning light that stretched out over a field of flowers. It was red, a deep red with black forelocks and a star on its forehead. The saddle was also dyed red, darker than the horse, but trimmed in a strange metal that seemed to shimmer just along the edges of vision.
He looked around, his deadpan face almost a mask as his gaze followed forest and hill. Then, he closed his eyes and concentrated.
There was a change.
It wasn’t physical, but there was a sense of Hammond melting off the man who as Hammond. It slipped off and there was someone else there. It looked like Hammond, but there was a hard, unyielding anger that filled the power frame. His eyes opened again, slowly and precisely, and he looked out into the world again, this time through eyes the color the deepest rubies every found. His hands tightened on the reins of the horse as he closed his eyes again for a moment.
“I am Bells of the Tightened String and this is me.”
It was almost a prayer, a declaration of self as it rippled through the air. Around him, the grass trembled with a sudden wind and the bells around his wrists rang out softly, a crystalline sound far too deep for their tiny form. His head snapped down to stare at the horse.
“Home.”
His hissing command carried out over the harvested ground and the horse responded immediately. Hooves pounded hard and fast as the enchanted animal circled around the village and sped toward the horizon. The shoes on its hooves matched the same color as the bells around his wrist. As the horse ran along the ground, the rapid pounding grew softer and softer, then no sound at all. Behind him, the horse left no trail despite the supernatural speed that it flew across the ground.
The horse ran for a day and a night and into another night. It wasn’t until noon of the third day that the horse began to falter. The endless, rhythmic movement started to grow louder as the hooves struck the ground once again. Bells seemed to wake up as his eyes focused ahead of him, looking at a tower that speared up over the trees.
Made entirely of blood-red stone, it stood in stark contrast to the coloring leaves of fall. Only a faint emotion graced his lips, a hard smile that let no sense of amusement reach his eyes. He slowed the horse down with a hissed command and guided it through the ancient trees, along a path only he could see.
As he drew closer to the tower, he heard the sounds of horses moving along a road. Hissing commands, he brought the horse around to a position he could view the road he knew was there. Four wagons of supplies were moving away from the tower, bouncing lightly as the men cheerful spoke to each other. Bells stared at the wagons, seeing nothing in the back of each wagon.
Supplies for the tower.
He remained in the shadows of the forest until the sounds of cheer disappeared. Then he eased his horse out of the woods and along the beaten-down dirt path. The horse obeyed without question, trotting down the road and toward the tower. It came up only minutes later, the base of it surrounded by a ten foot tall stone wall forming a courtyard easily twenty yards across. He spotted movement beyond the gate and spurred his horse faster.
The red animal galloped into the courtyard and came to a halt. Bells slipped off his horse, but his attention was riveted on the woman inside the courtyard.
She was stunning in beauty, at least from the angle he could see her. She was wearing a long silk robe, translucent in the sunlight and giving only tantalizing glimpses of the naked woman underneath. A river of raven-black hair cascaded down her shoulders and back, the edges just dancing off the tight swell of her ass. His eyes followed the curves of her body and hair, to the shadows between her legs and the few black curls that peaked out from her tightly clamped mound.
Another ghost of an emotion crossed his expression, his lips parting just slightly as he stared at her body. She didn’t seem to notice him at first, counting off the large barrels and crates that lines the courtyard. As she slowly turned, he watched as the firm breasts came into view. The blood-red silk clung to the hard nipples, tenting the fabric like the mountains of the Blessed Isle. Her eyes came across and he watched as she focused on him.
Then a flash of fear exploded in her liquid brown eyes and she jumped back with a shriek.
“Master!?”
Her demeanor changed almost instantly as she froze for a moment. Her body shivered for a moment, then she lurched forward, dropping to her knees in front of him, her eyes cast down at the ground.
“P-Please forgive me, my master. I didn’t know you were coming.”
He frowned at that, the deep furrows shadowing his face as he looked down at the shaking woman. His eyes looked right and left, then he frowned even more as he stared at the silk-covered breasts.
“Why are you dressed?”
It came out a hard whisper. She looked up, her eyes wide with fear, then her hands flew to the clasp of her covering, tugging at it violently as she threw her gaze back down. When she couldn’t release it, she tore at it, ripping the fabric open in her desperation to strip herself. The sound of it filled the courtyard as she pulled it off her body, the fabric giving one last cling to her perk nipple before being tossed to the ground. He spotted a tear splashing down on the dirt, but his unwavering face didn’t even register an emotion.
He stepped back to look at her. Then, he circled around, staring at hips, ass, and even the shadows of her body. He smiled grimly, but it disappeared instantly as he looked back up at the crates and barrels.
“You talked to them, didn’t you?”
Her head snapped up, turning to look at him.
“No, master! I wouldn’t dare!”
His feet slammed into the ground as he came forward, his hand arching up. It came down hard, slapping her across her face and throwing her across the courtyard. She let out a scream, slamming against the red stone wall and sliding down to crumble on the ground. He screamed at her at the top of his lungs, his face turning as red as his eyes.
“You do not talk to anyone! Do you hear me!”
Moving fitfully, she brought one arm against the ground and pushed up, tears rolling down her cheeks. She looked at him with all the sorrow in the world but Bells no longer cared.
Turning to face her, he stormed toward her. As he got closer, she let out a shriek and threw herself back into position, kneeling against the ground, eyes boring into the earth. Bells slammed his fist into the stone wall behind her, his muscles and training giving him enhanced strength as his fingers punched through the rock. A shower of dust landed on her head and shoulders and she jumped from the sensations.
“You talk to no one! You are mine!”
She stammered, her voice filled with tears, “Y-Yes, master. I swear, I talk to none… no one.”
He yanked his hand out of the side of his tower and sent another shower of dust pouring down on her head.
“Yes, you talk to no one.”
When she said nothing, he let himself a ghost of a smile. Then he reached down, his dusty fingers grabbing the firm swell of her breast. As his fingers dug into the silk mound, he hissed out a command.
“Present.”
She obeyed instantly, arching her back and thrusting her breasts forward. Her chin rose up and she stared into his eyes, the edges red with tears just moments before. He breathed deeply as he dug his fingers even tighter, his knuckles turning white as he watched the pain registering in her eyes. With a twist, he pulled her up. She resisted for just a second, unaware of his desires, then gasped softly as he picked her up by her breast, pulling her to her feet.
“You are mine, Sarim. I own your soul just as I own your body.”
Her heart was pounding in her chest and he could feel it through his fingers as she gasped.
“Yes, master.”
He didn’t release his fingers as he twisted her breast even more, then shoved her up against the wall. She gasped out again as her back was pressed tightly against the cool stone, her legs scraping against the ground to regain her balance. Bells leaned forward, hissing at her while his gaze bore into her eyes.
“Who own you?”
Sarim started to look away, but he ground his fingertips into the soft tissue of her body and she locked her gaze on his, sweat beading from her brow.
“You do. My master.”
“Who am I?”
“You are my master.”
This time, the smile reached his eyes.
“And what is my name?”
“Bells… of the Tightened String.”
He hissed as he leaned against her, pressing his body up against hers as he felt his fingernails digging into her breast, the nipple hard in his palm.
“I own you.”
“Yes.”
“Just as I owned your mother and your mother’s mother. Three generations of your family and three generations more.”
She whispered the response, the same phrase that echoed with her mother’s and grandmother’s voice.
“As the stars command.”
“Yes… as the stars command.”
He shoved his hand into her breast, slamming her even harder against the wall as he forced his mouth against hers. His kiss was hard and commanding, forcing her jaw open as he plunged his tongue into her mouth. She tasted soft on his lips but he forcing her even more open, forcing her to submit to his kiss even as he squeezed powerfully around her breast. His mouth worked at hers, bruising her lips with the force of his embrace. He didn’t stop until he felt the dampness of blood on his fingers and the gasps for breath vibrating through her chest.
Stepped back suddenly, he released her mouth and breast at the same time. Bright red dripping from his fingers as she forced herself to stand up, back against the wall, breasts thrust forward for him. His eyes dropped to her breast, where streaks of red were oozing along the shallow cuts. He counted to himself, feeling the skeins of fate twisting around him. The cuts sealed up after only a second, the very threads of reality bringing unnatural healing to the mortal woman.
They both stood there and Bells relished the pounding his own chest, the feeling of power that coursed through his veins. As it slowed, he looked up at his tower, ignoring Sarim for a moment. He looked at her and hissed out a command.
“Come.”
Without seeing if she would follow, he strode into the entrance of the tower. It was done in red and velvet and wood. The shimmering starmetal trimmed almost everything as he mounted the stairs, quickly walking up to the highest level. Behind him, he heard the whisper of her feet following.
The very top of the tower was a massive room thirty feet in height and easily fifty feet across. The entire room was dedicated to a huge magic circle, filled with densely written symbols that described the heavens and stars.
He curtly pointed to the center of the circle.
“Kneel.”
Sarim obeyed without question, padding through the circle and kneeling down in the center. Her knees rested against the hard stone and she arched her back once more, presenting her mountainous breasts for his view. He allowed himself a smile before going to a small, starmetal chest. Brushing along the edge, it clicked open and he pulled out a strip of brilliant red cloth and a dagger made of starmetal.
Kicking off his boots and stripping off his shirt, Bells made his way to the center. Sarim looked up at him, surprised and frightened before she forced her head back down to stare at the ground.
Bells ignored her as he clasped the fabric and knife in his hand, whispering out the complicated series of prayers to the universe itself. He could feel his prayers echoing up into the air, into the heavens, and even into the city of the gods itself. They vibrated along the walls, fluttering like a butterfly as they sought out the divine power he sought. His words twisted down streets and through alleys until they echoed in the ear of his target.
“Director of the Bound Collar, I request your presence.”
For the first time, Bells sounded pleasant, the harshness of his voice fading as his drawl became more apparent.
The image of the god formed in his mind, of a voluptuous woman bound in leather. Straps surrounded her body, every limb was crisscrossed with them. One forced her mouth apart as another ran up between her legs, parting her labia as it pressed right against her nether regions. A thick one spread across her eyes, blocking her vision, but there was no question she could see every movement of his body. Thick straps bound her breasts, forcing them to jut out in their alabaster smoothness. Even her fingers were bound in tiny straps, the buckles shimmering in the light of some candle-lit den.
“Bells… you desire me?”
He swallowed hard, feeling his cock starting to swell with even the image of her.
“Yes… I have questions… and questions…”
A muffled laughter through he belt. He felt her attention drawing even more focused on him and he swallowed again.
“Ask… for we are… allies in our plans.”
Her sultry purr filled him and he felt his cock standing straight up. He glanced down, seeing Sarim looking up at it, then back down to the ground. The goddess in his mind seemed to give a humming noise for a second before speaking.
“It seems, your pet is not well trained.”
“Yes, yet she is one of your gifts. Why is she slipping?”
“Perfect obedience comes from training, Bells, leaving her alone for years at a time will not make her love you.”
He felt a prickling of rage rising up.
“I didn’t want love, Director. I wanted obedience. That was our deal!”
He regretted the sharp tone of his voice, but he couldn’t stand back from her. The sensuous form of the goddess drew closer, almost a physical presence against his skin. His cock was huge and aching, swollen with misplaced lust and desire. In his mind and just on the edge of his vision, he watched as she reached down, her hands sinking into the back of Sarim’s skull. The slave woman jumped for a second, then gasped as her back arched even more, her breasts shuddering with the long, gasping breath as she inhaled.
Bells concentrated on her, seeking out the skeins of fate that twisted around the god’s machinations. He felt the delicate thread fate that represented Sarim’s life binding tightly to his, wrapping along the ruby starmetal of his life. It stretched obscenely, stretching far longer than a mortal should live and yet growing thin as it was stretched. Endless experiences were squeezed out with her growing life. The bondage goddess smiled seductively, her fingers curling into the very soul of Sarim. The scent of the woman’s excitement rose up to tease Bell’s nostrils and he felt his cock almost explode from the intensity of it.
Dramatically, the Director pulled her fingers out of Sarim and brought her fingers to her mouth. He saw a clear fluid, like the juices of orgasm, dripping from her digits as she spread it along the belt gagging her. The goddess stepped back and Bells had to do everything in his power not to follow her.
She regarded him for a moment.
“There is more.”
It wasn’t question.
“Yes, but I can handle-”
“Tell me.”
The power of the goddess’ voice slammed into him, binding and twisting around his heart. He swayed and grabbed Sarim’s hair for balance. The pleasure slave gasped from the pain as he yanked her hair, but didn’t move as he leaned against her.
Struggling to fight the compulsion of the goddess, he bit his lip but his mouth was already working.
“A servant of mine is going to die. I… I want to know who and why.”
“Well now, that isn’t so bad.”
It took all his willpower to say the next words, which came out in a hiss.
“I… don’t like owing you.”
The goddess laughed, “I already own you, Bells. You are mine just as this woman,” she brushed her fingers against Sarim and he heard the slave orgasm from just the touch.
The goddess withdrew, “I’ll find your answer, but just enjoy your slave. There is no force in Creation that could break her obedience to you.”
A faint pause as he felt the image of the goddess fading.
“Until you serve me again, Bells of the Tightened String.”
Her laughter faded slowly. Bells groaned as he felt his cock surging, flooding his pants with his cum. He leaned harder against her, grinding his hand against her hair as he gasped for breath. As he caught his breath, he looked down at her back, staring at her perfect ass and pulled her head toward his crotch. Her mouth opened automatically, mouthing his shaft through his soaked pants.
He moaned slowly, then stood up. Stepping back, he let the starmetal dagger and strip of cloth drop from his hands. The dagger slammed into the ground as the fabric fluttered down, pooling at Sarim’s knee.
Still panting, he stepped back even more to admire her.
“Sarim?”
Her brown eyes came up, “Yes, master?”
“Who do you serve?”
There wasn’t even a hesitation in her voice.
“You, my master.”
He nodded, a broad smile cracking his lips.
“Good, good.”
The lust still burned in his loins. Holding out his hand, he gestured to her.
“Turn around.”
Sarim slipped along the ground, spreading her knees slightly as she arched her back. He watched the tiny black curls between her legs tremble with her heartbeats, clear liquid dripping off her swollen folds. His lust rose up even more as he admired her from behind. His hands flew at his pants, yanking them open and dropping them to the ground. They hooked on his boots but he shuffled forward. Grabbing the back of her head, he dropped to his knees as he forced her forward. Her cheek slapped against the hard stone of his ritual circle as he pressed his cock along the line of her ass cheeks.
He felt every heartbeat pounding through her body as he ground her face into the ground, feeling the rapid beating of her heart. His hips rocked slightly back, aiming his slimy cock up against the tight rose of her ass. She held her breath, her body shivering, but she spread her legs even more as the passionate perfume of her body rose.
He said, “Silence.”
Hissing loudly, he drove forward, forcing his shaft into the tight sheath of her rectum in one hard, powerful stroke. He felt her body spasm with the burning pain from his intrusion, but he slammed it hard into her again, yanking it out and spearing her with all of his strength. His knuckles turned with with the force of his blow and he almost orgasmed with her struggles for silence. He tore into her, venting his goddess-fueled struggled into her with the power of a thousand legions, using her as nothing but a slave.
A tiny whimper escaped her throat as he screamed out. With the force in his arms, he pulled her back, impaling his cock deep inside her spasming orifice and pulling her head up. She whimpered against as he pulled her head back, until her back was arched and her skull rested against his armpit. Her bright brown eyes shimmered with emotions as he gasped, panting with the force of his blows into her, driving up into the hot, slicked depths of her body. He felt her muscles spasming from the position he forced, from the cock tearing into her, and he almost came again.
Panting, he hissed a command between clenched teeth.
“Pick. Up. The. Dagger.”
She obeyed, her body jerked with his thrusts. Her fingers wrapped around the starmetal hilt and she brought it up in front of her.
He continued to command her, throwing everything he could into tearing her open, his cock swelling with the intensity and powerful urge to explode inside her.
“To. Your. Throat!”
She obeyed, pressing the supernaturally sharp edge against her throat. His cock was swelling, turning an angry red that matched his dark red eyes. His entire body was shaking with the force to hold back his orgasm as he gave her one more command.
“Cut. Your… Throat.”
As she started to drag the magical knife across her throat, he screamed out with the most powerful orgasm in his life. His hands thrust her forward, shoving the knife away from her throat and slamming her face back into the stone floor. He felt his cock exploding inside her, so powerful he couldn’t feel the individual spasms, just the liquid heat pooling inside her organs, flooding her as he rode out his orgasm.
He felt her trying to bring the knife back up to her throat and he pinned her, pumping and thrusting, slamming hard as he felt her bones grinding from his passions.
Finally, he was spent. Panting, he laid out across her, both of their bodies covered in sweat. He watched as she struggled to bring the knife back to her throat, despite the fact her face was ground against the ground. He smiled, another tiny orgasm of pleasure rocking through his body.
He hissed softly in her ear.
“Stop.”
Instantly, she stopped trying to kill herself and slumped against the ground. He grinned, feeling the afterglow sapping his strength. In the soft mists of his mind, he felt an image growing as some other force imprinted it into his thoughts. The threads of fate drew tight as the thread of Tomas, one of his spies, bound tight with his own. He focused on the image for a moment, then nodded.
“Tomas… with the Enduring Strength of the Mountain.”
He began to chuckle, already planning his trip. It stopped when he felt the delicious laughter of the Director in the back of his mind. The feel of her soft bound form brushed against his back and he felt his cock surge to full hardness, swelling out his member until it almost split.
As the laughter faded from his thoughts, he began to ride Sarim once again, holding her head against the ground with both hands with straining muscles.
In Yu-Shan, the city of the gods, Loom of Fate was a hive of activity and purpose. The immense Tapestry spread out as far as the eye could see, threads of every living creature mapped out for their entire life in a dull, shimmering cloth of reality. Streaks of brilliance ran the entire length as the lives of Dragon-Blooded, Sidereals, and even the Anathema all brought a glistening appearance to the endless fabric. Thousands upon thousands of mechanical spiders scuttled along the furthest edge of the Tapestry, weaving the futures to come while others ran further along, correcting and altering the future of endless lives.
A haze rose over the Tapestry, blurring the further edges from mortal sight as the spiders worked their functions into reality. Each potential future removed burned away in multi-color hues of bitter smoke. Where the spiders focused, the smoke settled into distinct layers, obscuring major workings from site until the almost mindless pattern spiders were finished.
Endless platforms hovered over the shimmering fabric. Most were empty, just resting until called, but others had various Exalted and gods all watching the creation of the future below. On one platform, near the part of the Tapestry that represented the Direction of Wood, two women peered over the rail of their platform, watching spiders scurrying to perform their duties.
The more interested one was an older woman, appearing to be in his sixties. Her bright green eyes had no pupils or whites, just solid green with flecks of stars in them. She was statuesque and the simple robe she wore hung off her breasts and shoulders before being gathered at a belt of pure starmetal. She was wearing simple slippers, functional and plain. Her pure green eyes moved from spider to spider with practiced graced.
The other was a much younger woman, in her late twenties. Her brown hair was streaked with blond and the very tips were also bleached in the same color. She wore a neatly trimmed vest and a free-flowing skirt. The greens of the skirt and her vest matched her own eyes, a darker pure green much like the older woman. She twitched in place, randomly looking around at the tapestry, the platforms, and everywhere else.
The older woman looked up with an amused shake.
“Try to calm down, Morning Glory.”
The younger woman sighed, “I’m sorry, Resplendent. I just can’t stare at that thing very long.”
“You get used to it. It took me almost a century before I started to really appreciate it.”
Morning Glory sighed, “A century?”
“Don’t worry, you have centuries now. Exalting has some advantages, such as long life.”
“How long?”
“Well, I’m coming close to ten thousand, at least compared to you.”
The younger woman paused for a moment, then grinned, “That is a lot of drinking.”
Resplendent laughed loudly, closing her eyes as she did.
“Oh… yes it is. And more wine, men, and song than you can ever imagine. Just remember, pace yourself. With all that power, you risk burning out and doing something stupid.”
“Um…”
Shaking her head again, Resplendent returned to the tapestry, her eyes narrowing.
“Come here for a second.”
Morning Glory sidled up to the edge of the railing and peered over it. She spotted two pattern spiders furiously working along a line. One of them was twisting the fabric slightly as black and red smoke rose up from underneath its claws and spinnerets. The other was following some thread, invisible from this distance, working quickly with the same black and red smoke trailing behind it. The two green-eyed women watched the spiders in silence as they worked for less than five minutes before scurrying away.
The younger one spoke first, “What was that?”
“Someone was altering the Tapestry.”
“So, don’t we all do that?”
“Yes, but… this one felt different.”
“Felt? What do you mean?”
“Someone is hiding something. That request came through at least three intermediaries and yet, it seems to tie into a section of the Tapestry that I’m finding disturbing.”
“How can you tell there were three?”
Resplendent laughed, “Someday, I’ll show you. But for now, I think we might have gotten a chance to check something out?”
“What, mistress?”
The older woman looked at Morning Glory sharply.
“What?”
Morning Glory grinned, “Isn’t that what your staff call you?”
Rolling her eyes, Resplendent laughed, “Yeah, but you aren’t my staff, you’re my pupil.”
“Same thing.”
“Not really, I don’t bring my staff to Creation with me.”
Morning Glory’s eyes widened, “You mean it? I can go back?”
“I don’t see why not. It’s been what… five years since you exalted?”
She only got a nod in response.
“Good. I’m curious to see where these changes are going. There is a secret there and I think the Maiden wants… me… to…”
Resplendent’s voice trailed off as her eyes drifted toward the Tapestry. Morning Glory frowned and followed her gaze, but saw nothing at first. Then, she gasped as she watched spiders beginning to gather. At first, it was only two of them frantically working, but then a third and a fourth joined them. Brilliant silvered and white smoke rose up from the fabric as more started to gather. The dozen turned into two, then three. The younger Sidereal gasped as she looked around, seeing swarms of pattern spiders coming from all directions to gather at that point.
The older woman’s voice spoke softly, “By the Maidens…”
“Resplendent? What is going on?”
When she didn’t get an answer, the younger woman spoke a bit more sharply.
“Resplendent Ray of Brilliance? What is going on?”
The old woman jumped as if she was waking from a dream.
“Um… something that isn’t good. Things are changing, my girl. I… I need to deal with this, so you need to check out what we were talking about earlier.”
“What!? I-I don’t know how.”
In the distance, there was a flash of yellow as someone jumped off a crowded platform. Morning Glory’s eyes widened as the yellow grew until she could see an older man racing along the Tapestry, heading toward them. It took her only a mere moment to realize it was the elder Sidereal, the one in charge of watching the Direction of Air during this shift. Behind him, more spiders were forming threads and twisting the very fabric in ripples as they moved toward the growing cloud and swarm of spiders; something major was about to impact the world. Something that was not planned for.
Resplendent caught her eye, then looked back down to the growing chaos. She swore softly in River Tongue.
“I have to go. Just… check it out, I’ll find you as soon as I’m done.”
Then, she was gone, leaping graceful backwards and plummeting to the surface of Tapestry. Her impact didn’t even shake the fabric as she sprinted toward the cloud of smoke that spread out from the spiders. She disappeared into it, stepping lightly across the backs of the pattern spiders that scuttled into view. The yellow glowing man also disappeared into the cloud, to investigate it.
The young Sidereal was left alone on the platform. She looked around helplessly.
“But… but… I don’t know what to do.”