WEAVERS: A GothamX Story

11

The deafening crack of thunder wakes me; I lay on the floor of the Great Library with a heavy blanket, which doesn't do anything for the cold that plagues me even as I tighten it around me. I ache and shiver as I try to sit up and look around me. I'm in the calming light of the Giving Tree.

The familiar tapping of Master Malakai's cane on the hardwood floor catches my attention as the little man approaches me with great concern, "Alexa, are you alright!" He whimpers, dropping down beside me.

"I-I don't know." I stutter trying to remember what happened but everything is so blurry.

"What happened in the Grand Matron's Den?" He asks softly as he takes my hand in his, warming it immediately.

"They told me about Soren Reign and how she found Darkness." I answer, suddenly remembering, "I think I may have found it too."

"Darkness?" Master Malakai mutters to himself, "Did the Grand Matron touch you?" He asks me with urgency.

"No, something made me keep my distance," I answer honestly, his response confuses me further.

"Good." He sighs relieved, "The last time they held my hand, it took me weeks to get the chill off my bones." Is that what he meant by holding strong to my bones?

"That creepy book was calling me too." I tell him, "I heard a voice telling me to read it, it sounded like my mother."

"What book, Alexa?" He questions me with a frown.

"The one wrapped in leather in that back corner," I say in almost a whisper, a chill runs up my spine as I recall it; watching myself reach for the book just to be knocked away from it by a shadowy figure.

"It was calling you." He sighs, looking away.

It? That's not morbid sounding at all.

"The Great Tome is an Atlas of great power and knowledge. Somewhat like your own Atlas, you can't read it until you're strong enough. The Great Tome requires a great amount of strength to handle and read. Death is painful for those who attempt it when they're not strong enough." He explains, sitting next to me, "That Atlas killed my son, Elias." He adds as he begins to cry, "I held him until he took his last breath. I can't watch it kill another person I care about."

"Why was it calling me? Why did it want me to read it?" I ask him.

"I don't know, Alexa. I'm sure there is a reason but I don't know. Only four Weavers have ever been able to read it, which is saying something." He replies, "You need to go get some rest, you're burned out again."

I'm not even strong enough for my own Atlas and this strange Tome wants me to read it? Is this what happened to Elias Malakai? He was called to it like I was?

I pushed myself off the floor and wrapped the blanket tightly around me before making my way back to my room. I feel exhausted and angry and lost in a fog.
The Grand Matron's Den is Darkness. That's why my mother left the Vale, the Vale is cursed with a thick, heavy blanket of darkness that slowly dims and swallows the lights of those within it. The Vale deceives with its beauty and mysterious fantasyland. I understand now; my mother didn't leave, she fled the Vale because she saw it and felt it and wanted to escape it.

"There you are, dear." Aunt Rose purrs as she strolls into the room, "How about some tea? How did it go with the Grand Matron? They seemed very interested in meeting the daughter of their favorite student." She rambles as she sets her tray down on my desk. "Your mother adored them."

"The Grand Matron's Den is plagued with Darkness." Is all I can say.

"Oh, stop. You sound like your mother." Aunt Rose sighs back as she holds out a cup of tea to me.

I take the cup and sip quietly as she talks about the Grand Matron and my mother. My mother visited the Grand Matron three days a week between her classes and studying. They drank tea together and sometimes my mother would walk them through the garden. My mother never mentioned them or anything Aunt Rose is talking about right now.

I think my mother was greatly conflicted; she wanted me at a distance from the Vale while subtly teaching me things that have benefited me here. The books, libraries, and art. The teas she had me try. Journaling when I hated how it made me feel silly. The open-mindedness that she wanted me to have. She made a great effort to keep me in the light of the world while she kept me away from the Dark.

She was weaving. To weave is to form fabric or fabric items by interlacing long threads passing in one direction with others. It is to make a complex story or pattern by forming several interconnected elements. That is what a Weaver is; someone who weaves and threads the stories around them.

So, yes, I may sound like my mother but I know what I saw and felt when I was within the Den and after I fled it. Just because Aunt Rose doesn't see it or feel doesn't mean it isn't real for me or real for my mother. Something changed and my mother felt it too.

"Alexa?" My name is said.

"Hmm?" I hum back, snapping out of my daze.

"You're very much like your mother; you're bright and intelligent, caring and motivated. But your head gets a little lost in the clouds sometimes." She says softly as she takes the teacup out of my cold hands.

What Master Malakai said, hold strong to your bones, repeats in my mind as I rub my hands together to try to warm them.

"Oh! This weather is unpleasant." Aunt Rose gasps as a loud crack of thunder erupts over us, "How about I let you rest for a while? Wake you when dinner arrives?" She says softly to me as I drop my head onto my pillow.

"Hmm," I utter back as I pull the thick blanket up to my chin.