Chapter 6

Sophia felt aware, drugged, tired, excited, and all those contradicting feelings. She lived, read, waited as time passed on, her head clouded in smog.

Things were changing rapidly, suddenly and without warning, her nerves were strung tight and her fingers twitched every now and then. Each day that passed by came with another secret unfolded, dug up from underneath the glamour and plainness and into the day.

One secret, one thing to ask per day.

That was a rule that Finny made, just to prevent her from being overwhelmed with all of it at once.

“I’ll have to leave the village for a while,” Uther announced one morning. He was dressed in his usual tunic and trousers, belts looping around his waist and heavy with satchels. He wasn’t fond of heavy dublets, always having claimed that it made him clumsy and served poorly to defend against any enthusiastic attackers. There was a serious expression on his face, his tousled dark hair covered by the furred cap, his eyes intense in a way Sophia wasn’t used to.

It was a cold day just like any other, the skies overcast and the wind whipping through the darkened and slumbering buildings, carrying with it flakes of snow and salt. The long-awaited winter had truly set in Ansvil and the weather had no intention to be lenient. It was still early, the morning light hadn’t even had the chance to make it through the thatched roofs and stone walls.

Even so, everyone at the house was awake. A small crackling fire had been made, its tender heat spreading around the house, casting the chairs, tables, walls and shelves in a faint, ruddy glow.

“Will you be away for long?” Finny asked as if she had expected the sudden statement.

“Two to three days, maybe more,” Uther said, his voice filled with tension, “You know how it goes. Someone needs to scare off the beasties, even in the winter.”

It was a strange moment for Sophia, trying to act as normal as possible in times where what she thought she knew crumbled around her, busying herself with some nonsensical matter in the back. Under most circumstances, she would have taken the conversation at face value. However, given what she knew about the fact that everyone in the household was in on the weirdness, she had a hard time believing that her brother was out there for something as simple as scaring away the wolves.

“I see,” Finny answered, “When are you leaving then?”

“Now,” he said with a shrug, donning his fur-lined coat, “It was something of an emergency.”

“You’ll need some supplies then.”

“That’ll be appreciated.”

From under the counter, Finny withdrew a satchel, bulging with items within it. Evidently, she had been prepared for the occasion, the bag clearly having been filled before time. In it contained food, dried rations — Sophia would know because it was also part of her duty to keep track of the pantry. However, it was also clear it contained much more than that and Sophia hadn’t gotten around to ask yet.

This was a routine that had played out year after year, almost always on time. Uther would leave the village on ‘some important task’, always vaguely worded but never untrue, only to return some days later, covered in scratches.

Sophia hadn’t thought much of it before, but it was apparent that he was up to something dangerous. That she had known and hadn’t questioned just as well. Her brother was a guardsman or was he? There was just something subtlely wrong, off, begging to be investigated.

She had nearly forgotten about this — no, she had, and did only begin to remember.

More words were said, muttered just out of ear-shot before she could hear a door creaking open and closing, a pause, a return to silence.

She walked up to the counter.

“Is he gone already?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He told the truth, did he not?” Finny questioned back, an eyebrow raised. She was at the fireplace, a ladle dislodging the mix from the walls, her attention caught elsewhere as she spoke half-heartedly, “And what was that he was saying?”

This was a new thing that Finny had taken to doing. Half-truths, not quite a lie but never everything was spoken. Finny told her that It was important to learn how to speak the truth, how to know the truth, how to listen for it within the world — it was a requirement to live in the world she was to be introduced to. Asking the right questions was also something Sophia had to learn to do, to leave no room for mistruths but silence.

Sophia didn’t want to ask anymore but she must. The more she quested, the less she felt she knew — and some times the truth hurts in ways and time she would never expect.

“Uther’s out to… drive away beasts,” Sophia spoke out loud, testing if her words were true. The other girl didn’t say no.

“And what kind?”

“Unnatural ones,” Sophia guessed, “That I know but the question is why? Why would he need to do that? It’s dangerous, is it not?”

“Because he needs to. It is his duty, one that he was oath-bound to,” Finny said, her head tilting, an eye glancing back, “Continuing asking this would mean using up your question, I will tell you that now.”

“Is it that important?” Sophia asked, her brows furrowed, “Uther is risking his life! Wouldn’t that make it my business?”

“Quite, but that wouldn’t cause the answer to be any less shocking.”

Uh oh,

Sophia took a deep breath, knowing well that whatever Finny may be saying next, it would drastically change her world view and her understanding of the world around her. Even so, she felt that she must, must ask the question.

“Then please answer… Why would Uther risk his life battling monsters in the woods?”

“Then it is a long story. You know that you were not born of the Creightons, yes?”

“... Yes.”

“Your parents… your former family had been hunters, of a sort, not of mundane beasts but those of, as you said, monstrous nature. They had two children of which were Uther and you.”

“My… parents. They were in on this as well?”

Sophia hadn’t thought of her parents in years. They had always been this vague and indistinct figure in her past, left behind by the winding passage of time. It had been a numb, itching pain at the back of her head but now, as it was shown, whoever that they might have been must have had something to do with Uther.

She hated how in hindsight, just how apparent it should have been.

“Yes,” Finny answered, “Our families were not tied together, however. They were from somewhere else, seeking new homes. What brought them here, I wasn’t certain, but they were here.”

“Finny, do you remember them?”

“Of course.”

“Who were they?”

“Hunters. Their duties, similar to ours, had always been dedicated to maintaining the balance between humans and the others. You’ll find many like us throughout the world, if you know how and where to look for them.”

“How about what they look like?”

“Proud. Tall. Strong,” Finny said, tapping the ladle on the brim of the pot and stood up, “I do not know them well.”

“Are they dead?”

“I do not know.”

“Oh.”

“I told you. You may not want to know,”

“... I understand that.”

“My mother had talked with them and you were there. When your parents left, you and Uther were let behind. You were very young back then.”

“... They left?”

“On some important matter, no doubt.”

“Why couldn’t I remember any of this? I must have been… at least seven years old. That’s plenty to remember.”

Finny shrugged, her slender shoulders rising and lowering in her infuriatingly graceful way. In the flickering firelight, her form seemed almost monstrous, unearthly, detached from the yolks of mortal kind. Softly, she replied, “You weren’t meant to remember.”

Sophia wanted to argue, she wanted to be angry, she wanted to strike out in rage at how unfair it was, that is wasn’t right for anyone to decide what she could know or couldn’t. To take away her choice, her option to make her own decisions, it struck against her in a way that sent white-hot knives of fury through her bowels.

Even as Finny had made it a point to tell her without euphemism, it still hurt. The nonchalant, the way it was all so matter-of-fact, it all rankled her in deeply unpleasant ways.

My own parents.

This was the most she knew of them.

They were monster slayers, hunter of creatures in the dark or something like that. Perhaps, Sophia imagined, that in other times, in different circumstances, she wouldn’t be wiping tables and learning to cook gruel. Perhaps, she would be learning how to use a bow, a sword or a spear. Maybe she would be walking the world with her parents.

Even if her parents were dead, she would be doing what her brother was doing now if it weren’t for her memories and perception. When she thought about this, she felt a chill run through her body. To her shame, it was fear, the cold claws of dread digging itself into her chest as she considered.

Could I be — would I even dare?

It was difficult to even conceive herself being out there.

So, she didn’t speak out against it.

With tremendous effort, she calmed herself, letting her fingers unclench from the table, feeling the air leaving her lungs, flowing through her nostrils. Finny simply sat there, waiting patiently, her face blank, impossible to read.

“What is he fighting?” Sophia eventually asked, each word tutting out, weighty in the air and the absence of sound.

“Monstrous things,” Finny answered, “Things that represent the trials of the gods, the darker side of the human heart, the denizens of the underworld. The cold of winter draws them out to encroach upon our world, and probably not with good intentions.”

“Then it must dangerous.”

“Very much so,” Finny agreed, “To challenge the unnatural, the ones that are beyond humans and beasts… It is a trying task, to say the least. Your brother is very brave to pursue this goal.”

“Then — then why did you —” It was difficult to form the words politely, “We should be helping him! If my parents are —”

“Before you ask that, I have to show you something,” Finny interrupted her. Her face was suddenly unreadable in its coldness, as if she was considering something that was veiled behind a mist. “Bring a coat.”

Sophia’s eyes widened, freezing at where she was standing. For a moment, it felt as of her blood was chilled, a shiver running over her skin as she was left there, rooted, “Wait —”

“Get your coat, Sophia, and put your shoes on,” she stressed imperiously, her voice having an irrefutable quality to it. Tremblingly, Sophia moved her leaden legs, trodding over to a nearby table where she had taken it off in the building warmth of the fire.

Finny had donned her coat as well, tying her hair in a bun, her arms crossed and her gaze focused at the door.

“Where are we going?”

“Something that you need to look at before you make your decision,” she stated with the frankness that one would use to state the weather, or perhaps the freshness of cheese, shrugging on her gloves, “I didn’t want to reveal this part of the world to you just yet, but I think that you must see it now.”

From her pocket, she took something out within her palm. There was a loop of twine, woven together. Beads of stone hung from it, clicking softly as Finny reached out, revealing a dark, teeth-adorned necklace. It jingled there and Sophia felt her eyes being drawn to it, as if there was something more there, worrying at the very edges of her senses.

“Wear it,” Finny commanded, her eyes stern, “And do not take it off, whatever the occasion. Do you understand?”

Slowly, Sophia stared at the necklace, flickering up at Finny for a glance before returning to the beads. Her fingers twitched, raising, reached over and took it in her grasp. It was similar to the one she had been shown, just a few days prior, just less than a week ago. The writings on it — even as she struggled to remember what the words meant in her anxious, shaking mind, she couldn’t for the sake of her life decipher them.

Hastily, she lifted it over her head and looped it about her neck, her breath quick. She could feel its weight on her chest, seemingly burning. In its most contradicting sense, time seemed to both accelerate and slow down to a crawl, stretching out as moments passed by seconds after seconds.

“I think that you do not grasp how dangerous these beings are, the threat they can pose to human lives and most importantly, to you,” Finny stated calmly, watching, observing.

“That — that doesn’t mean that we can’t do anything,” Sophia countered, her feet tapping on the floor, her throat dry.

As she said the words, she immediately understood that it was the wrong thing to say.

“If that is what you think, then watch and learn the distance between the monsters and us,” said Finny, “You have yet to even see them.” Her eyes flicked to one side, fingers trailing atop a table. She walked over to the counter, to the surrounding walls.

The tapestry of red strings still hung up on the wall, forming these webs of dark, crusted strands. Sophia watched as the older girl, her sister — no, she couldn’t think of her as a sister at this moment. So otherworldly, so terrifying was her presence, she couldn’t even speak, no, this was not Finny that she knew, this was Evelyn, the daughter of Creighton.

Evelyn, for that’s her name, pressed a palm against the matted strings, caressing it as one would do to a pet.

Then, the tapestry began to peel off the walls. Thread by thread, they unravelled from the nails, the stones, pulling themselves free with sticky, organic squelches. Sophia watched in horror and astonishment as it began to coil, twisting itself into shapes, cables, accompanied with wet splatter, leaking crimson matter all over the floor, dripping and drooling.

The strange limbs, for they must be, began pulling at the chairs and tables nearby, dragging it in with dreadful snaps and crunches, the wood splintering and reforming itself as bones and ribs. The fireplace hoisted itself off the ground, the brickwork falling apart as the brazier of fire curled around itself, metal bars curling to form ribs around its flaming heart.

Crack, snap.

There were arms, ending in crude, brutish fingers that sprouted claws of jagged wood, looking to be able to tear her from limb to limb with but a flick; legs, like that of a wolf, threaded flesh that hung loosely from the bones like some unraveled yarn; a tail, long and spindly, the white, bleached shards beneath puncturing through. A neck made itself as well, pulling free from the mass of sinew and flesh; from it, an opening formed at its very tip, gaping opening only to reveal numerous teeth that jutted out unevenly.

A groan, deep and guttural, made it out of this unholy being. Ponderously, it stretched to its full height, the top of its sightless head nearly brushing across the beams of the ceiling, eclipsing itself from the firelight.

Slowly, ponderously, it turned its head towards Evelyn who beheld it calmly. As it lumbered forward, its knuckles grazing the ground with heavy thuds, it left deep imprints of red upon the floor.

Sophia stepped backwards, her blood running cold, her limbs shaking as she stared at the mass of tendrils that held itself as a creature, the patterns that were once upon the tapestry visible upon the surface of its skinless flesh, depicting images of conflict, bloodshed. Laborious breathing echoed out from within its maw, flapping wetly as air gurgled.

Oh, she knew they existed, she knew that some creatures and monsters would undoubtedly be able to devour her whole. However, she hadn’t expected the raw, visceral terror they would inspire.

Its presence was large, impossibly so.

There was a brutal intelligence in its eyeless face, in the way it carefully regarded the human before it. The fire of the brazier within its chest curled around in a ball, thumping to some phantom heartbeat.

With an impossibly fast moment, its head cocked to one side, its faceless visage twisting unnaturally until it faced Sophia. The maw split open, the threads pulling the jaws apart into a bloody smile.

“This is Thread,” Evelyn said in a neutral tone, not quite even acknowledging the monstrous being bearing down upon her, “He’s the guardian of the house. In dangerous times, he would protect us from the worst but now, he would serve a different task.”

Suddenly, its body followed suit on its movement. Languid and flowingly, its flesh surged forth. There was a table in its way and with a single strike of its fists, the wood seemed to promptly implode and explode into splinters, showering Sophia with shards of wood.

Sophia’s eyes widened, her back bumping into a table, bewildered at how casually violent it all was. More so than that, she was trying to comprehend that the figure, Thread, was there; her mind too scrambled to fully understand the ramifications of this monstrous being present in the house and she had been here for years.

Every day, she walked around this very room and every day, the tapestries hung from the walls. Like a veil had been lifted from her eyes, she couldn’t believe that she could have ever thought that it was something so mundane.

Then, she realized that she was just standing there with her mouth agape. She had been so shocked, so swept up with the tide of events that she had forgotten to even move, her legs welded to the floor as the meaning of Evelyn’s words registered in her mind.

Thread approached, its tendril-like legs carrying it forward, its mouth still smiling that horrible grin, any remaining chairs and tables within its path were brushed aside like paper. With a terrified yelp, Sophia attempted to flee, crashing into the nearby stools and benches as she did so.

At the very moment that she turned her back, she felt something heavy and brutish curled around her mid-drift. Her breath was knocked out of her as she felt the grip tighten around her body, pulling back with inhuman strength against her momentum.

Before she could even cry out loud, she was hoisted into the air. There was a moment of disorientation, the world spun in her eyes as she registered the crushing pain. Her legs dangled — no, she was upside down, she faced the floor and blood rushed into her head.

There was screaming.

It took her a moment that it was hers.

Thread, through some impossible movements, had adhered itself to the beams, its legs coiling around the wood like some monstrous serpent. Its jaws opened and a long, salivating tongue revealed itself, drool of blood pouring out as if it was an open wound.

It pulled her closer, breathing its rotten breath upon her, the smell of cold metal flooding her senses. No matter how she struggled, the fingers that had wrapped itself around her felt as if they were made of steel rather than fabric. The barbed fingernails of his dug into her own flesh painfully, hooking even through the coat.

If it so wished, Sophia had no doubt that Thread could crush her like an egg. For a moment, there was a horrible vision of her entrails flowing out onto the floor, bursting through her mouth in a fountain of blood.

If it so wished, she would have died right there.

If it so wished, she was certain that her quest for discovery would end there.

Suddenly, she was extremely aware, more than she had ever had, that this was crazy.

“Sophia, out there, if you were to pursue this path, there will be beings just as horrible and deadly,” said Evelyn, still impassive. Like some bird of prey, she circled the dangling Sophia, intoning, “Uther has the strength to defeat monsters. Do you think you could? Can you break out of its grip? Can you even harm it, hurt it?”

Sophia was stuck silent. There was nothing she could say, her mouth dry and her limbs leaden. Frozen stiff, she couldn’t speak a single word, thoughts stuttering into a stop. What could she say? Could she admit that she was frightened, that she felt as if she about to vomit out the contents of her stomach?

“Do you feel the need to follow your parent's path as well? Is this what you wish for?”

There was silence. Without her realizing, Evelyn had already walked close, her shape looming over the younger girl like some giant bird of prey, her face coldly neutral. In the back of her head, perhaps brought on by terror, some detached part of her mind remarked that perhaps, Evelyn was never quite normal.

She wasn’t tall or big. She wasn’t particularly strong either.

But, at that very moment, Sophia understood that she was dangerous.

“Your brother asked for you to be left out of this destiny for a reason, Sophia,” Evelyn spoke softly, her loose hair drifting without wind, the firelight obscuring her features, “You knew that it would be dangerous and you had said yes, wishing to know more despite our attempts to keep it from you. It is only my own judgement, and mine alone, that allowed you to know as a parent would let their child wield a knife.”

Somehow, despite it all, despite being held in the grasp of some monster, Sophia found the strength to speak.

“... That, I understand.”

“If you so wish,” Finny stated, “I can tell you, teach you, if you so wish to become like your parents. Is that something that you would want?”

“I don’t know,” Sophia said, her voice shaky, her confidence broken. To her shock, she felt her eyes starting to puff up, her limbs shaking as tears began to leak from the corner of her eyes.

As she said the words, she felt as if she was betraying something, losing some intrinsic properties of her that she never knew she had. There was a jolt as she was unceremoniously lowered to the ground, splattering into the pool of blood, her body aching.

“You don’t have to make that decision now, you are still a child,” Evelyn's voice was softer now, kneeling to one knee, lowering her face so they were level, “There’s still much you don’t know yet and at this point, you could still turn back from the path.”

“But — Uther. He could’ve died, couldn’t he?” Sophia found herself saying, struggling to pick herself up, her eyes glancing towards the door. She couldn’t possibly just leave her brother to face the things out there, could she?

“I will not lie to you, this is dangerous. Extremely so,” said Evelyn, “Without our combined efforts in suppressing them, every last man and women in this village will be slaughtered. Perhaps in months, years. Maybe it may show as a plague, a famine, storms, attacks by beasts and the like, but the village will be gone.”

There’s something in the way that she said it that was alarming, as if it was some form of inevitability that would laugh at all attempts at defiance. Thread remained amongst the rafters, immobile waiting patiently.

Evelyn kept speaking, “But that is a choice. Treat this as a lesson if you will but understand that you are nowhere near ready to even face anything out there. It's only been a week, Sophia, and you need patience. You have yet to even see a fraction of what I think I know. However, that is a choice that you can make, no matter how foolish it is.

“You can go out there, right now, and try to wrestle spirits to the ground. You can approach Uther and ask him directly. You can do many things but whether that is up to your expectations… well, that is entirely up to how prepared you are. By learning to read, you had taken the first steps in trying to take control. But now, you have the first taste of what to expect. There is no shame in learning.”

With that, Evelyn stood up again and waved her hands once. At that, the room seemed to shiver. Thread detached from the ceiling, plopping on the ground silently and at its touch, the pools of blood that been left on the floor began to seep away into its form, draining away into the fleshy tendrils. As it walked, the wooden bones began to curl back inside its body, reforming into furniture that seemed to have never been broken at all, curling back like some flower blooming.

It spread itself out, each individual thread and string knotting itself back into a tapestry, slithering up the walls and onto the hooks. The fireplace rumbled back into its spot and the brazier returned once again blaze into flames, the sound of fire roaring sounding like the snores of a wrathful beast.

In seconds, it seemed as if the carnage had never even occurred but to Sophia, no that she knew its there, its presence was impossible to hide. She could see it shifting without wind, she could see the claws that cleverly blend into the wooden desks and stools, the fact that the fireplace had never once required firewood or coal.

It was all there.

Sophia sat there, shivering. The blood that had seeped into her coat was gone — even her own. With a shuddering breath, she scrambled to her feet, eyes wide.

Evelyn tied her hair back.

She spoke after a long sigh, “I apologize for having to do that but it was necessary. There are many things that I can teach you but nothing beats experience in teaching you danger. That is Uther’s role and one that he had decided to fulfil. Whether that is something you would want to — or need to do, it's up to you.”

Sophia rubbed her throat. Her voice that came out was raspy, “Then - Then what can I do?”

“You can learn to look, for instance,” Finny said, a wry tug at the corner of her lips, “Things can be very well hidden and being able to see them is a good first step to follow. I was about to tell you how before the demonstration, but then…”

“Oh.”

“Well, no matter,” Finny clapped her hands, “Since Uther wouldn’t be around for some time, there are several things that we can do outside of the Corner.”

Sophia looked down at herself, at the way that her ribs —

Wait.

There were no holes in her coat. Her wounds seemed as if it had never been there. On her chest, the necklace she had received felt warm.

As if knowing what she was thinking, Finny added on, “Oh, and do not lose that amulet. It's protective in nature if you remember what I told you on that day.”

“Where are we going?” Sophia found herself asking, bewildered.

“Outside. Uther may have his own way of dealing with these spirits, we have our own,” Finny said as she opened the door, the cold wind rushing in, “All of these may be strange, but trust me, have some faith, and I’ll show you how to deal with it.”

Sophia obliged.

She was hurt, scared, shocked and amongst many things, she was getting overwhelmed with the number of things that she had come to terms with. Honestly, she was doing surprisingly well for someone in her position. I was two years older than she was and I had quite rapidly descended into some magically-enhanced split personality disorder and a god complex.

In some way, I admire her tenancy, that she hadn't devolved into a gibbering mess of anxiety and blind terror. Would I agree with how Evelyn had literally beaten the humbleness and rationality into her?

No.

But I would agree, Sophia's notions of what she was ready for needed a severe reeducation.

Good luck, Sophia.

You’ll need it.

Some distance away, I watch as Rutherford sailed back to Ansvil in frustration. Down in a chamber, I was conversing as Vrraet about possible military applications of giant sea life. Somewhere else, Vahisk led a hunting party to capture Wutwyrms, towing them down with the gifts that I had given. In a circular clearing of sand, Cuain was fawning over a new batch of eggs, thanking the Sgnirmah for the gifts she had received.

There were no many things to keep track of. There were so many things to do! There were so many lives to live!

And there is so little time for so much.

Even now, I continue to perfect my craft, to refine procedures, to create new [Skills], to conjure up new ideas and methods to work with. With all these underlings contributing to my library, adding their knowledge to me and be shared, I expand and expend, cultivate and harvest.

I observe, break down, watch.

Excited.

From what I know, the Zweits would prove to be an extremely interesting element. I had so many theories and I cannot wait for her to be ready. I am patient.

The world is so big and I am so small.

I can wait for her to be ready.

“What about the tavern? Aren’t we suppose to be opening again?”

“It’ll be fine on its own.”

“...”