WEAVERS: A GothamX Story

8

Good morning, Miss. Deveraux." I hear the familiar voice of Master Malakai.

I don't remember falling asleep and I have no idea how long I was gone but my stomach growls and sunshine sings through the window of the Giving Tree right on me.

He smiles at me with glistening green eyes, "Sleep well?" He asks as I straighten myself in the leather chair.

I pull the blanket off my shoulders and rub my itchy dry eyes, "It was just supposed to be a nap and I missed dinner. Ugh, Aunt Rose is going to be upset with me." I grumble into my hands.

"You're not the first to fall asleep in here." He laughs as he smiles at me, "I see you came back for more reading material too." He adds, holding the Atlas in his small hands with a sullen look on his face.

The Atlas of Elias Malakai. I remember bits and pieces of it from last night; a boy kicked out by his father and taken in by his uncle, Master Malakai. He was Chosen, like my mother and the other Weaver, Soren Reign.

"Who was Soren Reign?" I ask him to change the subject.

"Soren was a ray of light, an absolute sweetheart, and one of the most powerful Weavers I've ever had the privilege of guiding through my library." He says, looking up at the Giving Tree as he speaks, "She read so many books that it became near impossible to keep up with. She's the one who started the towers of books. I don't even think she realized she was until she tripped over them." He rambles, laughing at the end.

It made me laugh a little too, since I also tripped over a tower.

"What kind of tasks do Chosen Weavers get?" I blurt out, remembering what Aunt Rose said about my mother, she was Chosen.

"Being Chosen- burdensome." He answers with a heavy reluctant sigh, his face hardens as he looks down at the floor.

"Vague answers are becoming a regular thing around here." I mutter, "I think I'll take today off, I'm exhausted and annoyed and I'm going to be unpleasant if I stick around." I groan at him, rising from the chair.

"You're not strong enough to handle all of it. I get it; you want to be like your mother but even she had her limits." He replies.

"Master Malakai, I barely know my mother." I snap back at his assumption.

He is right about the first part, I'm not strong enough yet but I'm trying. Everything here is just so confusing. I see this place in a different light now. This beautiful, colorfully exotic place is just mysterious and strange and dark. Elias Malakai. Soren Reign. None of this makes sense to me.

"I know." He sighs, looking away.

I leave the library and storm up to my room. A Matron had just delivered a breakfast tray when I arrived but my appetite is long gone now. The pictures of me and my parents are scattered around the room; my odd attempt to hug myself with their smiling faces and friendly, kind, and loving eyes.

All I can think of is why and every single question I can ask with it and it just makes me angry and hurt at knowing that I'll never get the right answers because my parents are gone. The only answers I'll get here are vague and empty and insincere. I don't think I've ever been so needy when it comes to answers. I've always been one to take what I get and be patient that more answers and explanations will follow because that's what I know.

It's so frustrating because I have these memories that don't make sense to me either. The box of books in my parent's RV; I was eleven years old and bored while my parents were outside building a camp fire. I went through the box and found a book with a name on it. Soren Reign. Which doesn't make sense because that would have made her twelve years old at the time and why would my parents have the Atlas of a twelve year old girl. Another why.

Aunt Rose said that the first Thread is the most important one because it sets the foundation of those to follow. My first Thread was with Soren Reign and that means I've been a Weaver since I was eleven years old. My mother was upset at me for it- for reading?

No, for showing her that I was like her. Which means Master Malakai was right and my outburst was rude but completely valid because I'm allowed to have feelings about all of this. When I first arrived, I was in a fog of childish wonder and awe, blind to the true realness and dimness of this place. The fog is lifting now and I'm starting to truly see the Vale.