WEAVERS: A GothamX Story

10

Aunt Rose and Master Malakai stroll ahead of me. They lead me beyond the Great Library and the Lecture Hall that resides behind a very large wooden door. I imagine it to be similar to a college classroom or school auditorium with uncomfortable seats and a stage of some sort and possibly a chalkboard because modern technology is something I haven't laid eyes on yet.

The Grand Matron has been mentioned to me very little. I chalk it down to it being something I'm not supposed to know about until I've reached a certain point in my learning but something about this feels faint but increasingly odious.

The smooth stone walls transition to a somber, dark round room built in a rocky, rough, blackish brick that shimmers in the faint lighting. This section of the Lyceum is older than the rest of what I've seen so far. Aunt Rose pulls open a wooden and creaky door and vanishes into darkness and I begin to follow her when Master Malakai stops me with his cane.

"The Grand Matron is blind, very old, and peculiar beyond imagination." Master Malakai says in almost a whisper, "Hold strong to your bones, Alexa Deveraux." He adds in a low growl as he motions for me to enter the doorway.

The air in my lungs is sucked out of me as I enter the strange, dark place. Mesmerized doesn't even begin to cover it; my attention is glued to the giant round vitrage of black, grey, and white chunks of glass window that is strangely not a picture of anything. The room is empty except for a dusty, black stone fireplace that almost covers the whole wall, the opposite wall has a tall and wide wooden bookshelf that holds only a handful or two books.

It's the big chair that sits in the dim light of the vitrage with a frail pale hand held over the side that sends a chill up my spine as I come closer.

Aunt Rose glides to the Grand Matron's side, "Grand Matron, I would like to introduce my niece, Alexa Deveraux." Aunt Rose waves for me to come forward to her and the stranger but my feet won't budge.

"Their name means, "defender of mankind." A voice speaks from the chair.

I'm almost drawn to the youthful and silky voice, I come forward but only some, "My mother named me after-," I pause as I try to remember what she said but my mind is blank.

"They named them after a powerful Weaver." The Grand Matron finishes the sentence with a flick of their visible hand.

I peep over my shoulder at them; Master Malakai hangs his head and heads for the door behind Aunt Rose. I watch the old door creak closed with a thud.

"What did they learn?" The Grand Matron speaks into the silence.

They? Me?

"I," I stutter as I try to make sense of this odd tongue the Grand Matron speaks in, "I found an Atlas, the Atlas of Soren Reign," I reply, frozen where I stand even though I want to come forward enough to see the person I'm speaking to.

The Grand Matron purrs, "They remember Soren."
They? Oh, the Grand Matron- they.

"They were such a luminous student. They wanted to consume as much as possible of their world." The Grand Matron continues, I drift closer as they talk.

"One day, they found something the complete opposite of themselves and it scared them so badly, all they wanted to do was retreat to a place where it could not find them." They sigh.

"What exactly did they find?" I ask, itching for more as I finally come around enough to see the face that belongs to the Grand Matron.

They wear a thick black lace gown that covers their legs and feet and long arms. Only the white bony hands and fingers are exposed in the faint light that shines through the window. And their face; white flesh is draped over pointy bones, eyes are dark and hollow, and the lips that have been speaking to me- scarlet red.

"They found darkness." They answer with a smile, "A darkness that would swallow everything." With the mentioning of Darkness, a foggy memory of something I read pops into my mind, A Beacon is someone who leads their fellow Weavers and Mundane away from the Dark.

"They found Darkness," I repeat trying to inhale.

"They did indeed." The Grand Matron comments as the room begins to spin around me.

It's hard to ignore the similarities between Weaver's Burnout to the sudden illness I feel. It feels as if I held my breath for too long. The hallway spins too. I use the wall to brace myself as I try to walk with my own body weighing me down with every step I take. I want to stop and hug myself to combat the chill that hangs tight to my bones.

Hold strong to your bones. What did Master Malakai mean by that? Why does everyone here have to be so vague?!
Unpleasantly hot and nauseous is how I feel as I finally reach the doorway to the Great Library. With a free and clammy hand, I push it open far enough to slip inside only to catch my foot on the doorway and trip, hitting the hardwood floor hard.

Get up! A voice encourages firmly.
I push myself back to my feet and look up at the Giving Tree that has rain splattering violently against it. It makes me wish for that against my skin, to cleanse this illness that has me so out of health.

Go on! Keep going! I hear, feeling the warm dampness of a tear that falls down my cheek as I move forward into the forest of books and the branches that hold them.

I remember a time when my father said that words have numerous meanings and that sometimes those meanings are incorrect depending on the context around them. The Giving Tree isn't just a tree that gave them wood and paper and ink and whatnot. It gave them something else, something bigger and more meaningful because if it didn't, they wouldn't have had a window made with colored glass to share. What else did it give them?

You're close! Keep going! The voice sounds almost like my Mom.

I release a giant sob at the familiar voice I hear in my head. But it's fading away as I near a corner I've never seen before. All I hear now is my heart pounding in my chest and a ringing in my ears as I near the table that sits in the dark corner.

Read it. Read it! It reminds me of the whispering I heard when I found my Atlas a few days ago. Read it. Read it. Read! Read!

The table holds a large, thick book wrapped in leather and dust. I want to unwrap the leather cover and open it. I want to read the words that it holds, "None of this makes sense." I sob as I reach for the strange book.

"Alexa don't!" I hear as shadowy figure plow's into me.