A Light in the Darkness

[Mart]

A ShadoWeaver Story

Mart had won the Opal after a difficult challenge, besting one of the storied legends still roaming the rings of the Outback in two of three matches. He'd heard Matt's warning, and Koy's atop it, but all the world seemed as if it was underwater once he handed over the Stone.

Since the moment Jaycy had looked at him like a stranger, and held him at arm's length or in disdain, he'd resolved to find the cause and undo it. To break it. But ShadoWeaver was a cunning thing, and despite how pure and simple it turned out to be to reclaim his beloved friend from the darkness she'd been swallowed by, grudges rarely held court among more common senses. This the Opal knew, and this she placed her wager on.

The tendrils of the Stone’s influence had branched out, slow and deliberate. At his first challenge, she hadn't been ready for him. She'd needed time to prepare. Then along came Matthew Simon: the perfect stopgap. The family that hers had found themselves so frequently intertwined with. He was a serviceable incubator for her as she prepared for what would inevitably come and, after what felt like mere days, the Elf returned for her.

And she was ready for him, at last. She'd take his grudge and gently unwind it, then braid the threads of distrust and malignance back together into an unbreakable bond; a bond she could use to regain a modicum of the autonomy she'd given up when the Primordial and the half-blood had paid her price and reforged her vessel. A few days of silence, feeling out the Elf as he kept her close, and she was ready to begin.

Prepare yourself. She shuddered at the unexpected intrusion, a reaching out she'd been unprepared for. His voice in her consciousness was like a cast open set of curtains; a sudden, blinding light. Harmless of course, but startling and unwelcomed all the same. What did he want? What could he think he could dare to ask for?

You wish things of me, yes? But there is more to give and take than to give or take. And what I wish of you, ShadoWeaver... for the Moon Elf had done his research, pored over accountings and experiences and studies as far as he could reach and, through it all, had determined the only course of action he desired… is for you to be marked, changed, and irreversibly altered, by me. You will insinuate yourself into me, I know. You are doing so even now. But so, too, shall I.

ShadoWeaver felt an amusement she hadn’t experienced in some time, spreading throughout her consciousness like sap running down the branch of a tree. And if a mosquito or two were to get caught up and swallowed by it as she basked in her mirth, well.. What harm could there be in that?

[Mart]

There had been hundreds of them crafted in such a short period of time, but with such purpose. Sparrows, Nightingales, and little Owls, all crafted from hundreds of interlocking pieces of bronze, little accents in nickel, and black, reflective eyes.

There was one larger golem among them, and it was the only one to bear any features that could be considered.. Unnatural. The body of a doe, with copper plating in a slinking, snaking pattern from front to back, but where the neck would be, instead was the androgynous torso of a small humanoid. That, too, was cast and plated in copper. And atop its shoulders was what appeared to be an Elven face, with wide black eyes, covered by a silver doe’s skull. Long hair flowed down its back, thin metallic wire pliant enough to flow as though it were natural.

On this day, the birds finally took flight, and the Cervitaur’s head rose for the first time, and it blinked at the Moon Elf seated before it.

”Why have you done this?” The face, behind the skull, seemed confused as it moved its hands, ran its fingers through its hair, and began to inspect the body it had been given. The Moon Elf’s smile looked warm, but felt cold to the golem.

“I do not know why you want to know of the outside world, but I know that you do still want it. And while you may not reside within any of these constructs, you can experience what they do, and this one in which you find this bulk of your consciousness can be used to move freely about the Nest when I am present.”

”Yes, but why have you done this?”

“I need not explain myself to you, ShadoWeaver. Nor do I intend to.”

”You know that you can’t possibly hope to contain me, Elf.”

“What about my actions seem to indicate I am doing anything of the sort?”

”I will determine what you are doing.” The Moon Elf laughed, and it was finally warm once more.

“I am sure you will do just that. Were you any less suspicious, or busy attempting to dig further into my consciousness, you may have already done so. Now, I am quite busy. Enjoy your bird watching.” And, without so much as another glance in the simulacrum’s direction, the Moon Elf turned and walked away.