“Up, down, back, up, down, back," Master said. "That’s it, keep on moving, you better not stop."

The ethereal presence that shrouded her faded. But she never revealed her name. Instead, she simply wished him to call her—Master. No doubt his mothers.

Currently, the mysterious figure was helping Aleister regain the full mobility of his legs. A process in which he performed various therapeutic exercises and walked around the room using wooden crutches as support.

This process continued until Aleister regained full control of his legs and could walk again with no support. Running, sprinting, or any activity that required the use of his legs in a moderate to intense manner was still out of the question.

He currently sat on the edge of his bed. “How much longer until I regain full functionality?”

She shook her head back and forth, mulling over an answer before saying, “Another month.”

Aleister let out a deep sigh, even though the answer was pretty much what he expected.

“But I have plans for you yet,” she added.

“Eh?” Aleister looked up in a questioning manner.

She rolled her eyes and said, “Just because you can’t train your legs doesn’t mean you can’t train the rest of your body or start the process in which we awaken your soul.” She rolled up her sleeves and walked towards the door. “Your Contractor will fill in some more details for you..”

Aleister stared at the now-closed door in utter bewilderment at what she just stated.

“She's also has Contractor,” Syn said, lying on the window seat in her ethereal form, book in hand.

"So those with contracts can sense others who also have a contract?"

"Technically, no. However, since we all exist in the Ethereal Plane, you will know if someone has a contract more times than not."

He nodded his head, surprised to learn that Master also had one. “By the way, what more details is she talking about?”

“You need to awaken your soul in order to become a Weaver,” she answered with a sigh. “Can't get started fulfilling my contract until you do.”

“Why do you sound disappointed by that?”

“How many people have become Contracted before they became a Weaver?” she asked.

Aleister didn’t know the answer, but it appeared that this question was rhetorical in nature. Nonetheless, he still answered. “More than one."

"Yes, but now I realize it doesn't matter. You can't work towards fulfilling your contractual obligations just yet."

“Imagine if I was one of those people that became a Weaver as a child, or maybe even just a year ago.”

"Children becoming Weavers is more common than you think." Syn closed the book and floated on over to Aleister’s bedside. “And who cares that you aren't one yet? It doesn't mean you can't. Anyone can become a Weaver at anytime.”

“What do you mean, who cares? The people who died care, people like Delilah’s family care, they have to live with the fact that their daughter is dead every day. Every villager that survived has to live with the fact that their neighbors died!”

"That came out of nowhere."

Aleister shook his head as he slumped into bed. "Sorry."

"Don't be. And you made my point for me. Let those people care. Why are you caring in their place?"

"Because I have to live with the fact, I couldn't do anything."

"The past is dead, and you need to accept it. You can't do anything to change it," Syn said. "What you can change is the future. You can engage in self loathing and self pity all you want, but that won't do you any good. Learn from your mistakes and move on is all you can do."

"I know." Aleister closed his eyes. "I don't like it, but I know."