The Grand Weave

Brelten sighed as he stamped the last piece of paper of the once monstrous pile. With his work done, at least, temporarily, he had just enough time to sneak in a tea break.

With glee, he summoned a glass teapot, a cup, and a saucer plate. Next, he pulled out a small red pouch and pulled loose the golden string, keeping it closed. The scent of Nela's Kiss reached his nose, and he breathed in deeply.

Agghhh, truly a divine smell. Even if the merchant was a stingy bastard, this is worth every gold coin he squeezed out of me.

With the tea brewing, he could finally sit back and relax. With a reflex long carved into him, he queried his system and checked the time.

2:37 p.m. 27, Muren, 498 AR

There are only a couple more weeks left till the festival. Brelten's relaxed smile dipped into a frown at that thought.

The kids didn't worry him. They had long proved they were ready for such an event, and he knew they could handle it. No, the reason for his worry was the additional member tagging along. Cyrus, the Reborn, the felkin, the chosen of a god.... the survivor.

The kid had already gone through so much, and the reminder of that stung Brelten to his core. He was the guildmaster, and even if he didn't regret his decision to send the two fledglings into the rift, he deserved a good portion of the blame.

Losing Sam was a tragedy for both the loss of life and the potential. Yet, from what Cyrus told him, she was apparently still alive. A fact that didn't surprise the guildmaster in the slightest.

A small melodic tune sang out from the spout of the expensive glass teapot, and he hurried to take it off the heating gem. He breathed deeply and enjoyed the herbal aroma as he poured the freshly brewed tea. But, even with his favourite tea steaming in his face, his thoughts stayed dark.

Reborns, a gifted and cursed fate. Unlike many who only knew of them from history books and fairytales, he had met one personally. And no matter what side one fell on when it came to classifying what a Reborn was, he knew that theirs was a life of challenges.

Every history book or scrapped-together journal would never be able to fully encapsulate the struggles those unique individuals had to go through. Because the Weave had its attention on such souls, and the world would shift to accommodate them.

Cyrus and Sam were no different. Within a month of them joining the Inoria, they had spawned a rift that just so happened to contain a demon as the final boss. Awakened monsters were rarer than a person ascending beyond tier four. Yet, somehow, in this random rift, the perfect set of circumstances aligned for Arz'odral to wake up and force his way into reality.

Brelten shook his head as he sipped his tea; the flavour barely tasted as it coated his tongue.

And now I've sent him off with the others. Unchecked, unwarned of the possible dangers to come. Theodore may forgive me, along with sweet Celanae while Igas wouldn't care. But Eodyne will be mad, and that damn hot-headed fool will fume as if a dragon set his feet on fire.

He shook his head at the thought and leaned back in his chair.

I'd wager all my tea that he still refuses to put on that damn necklace. A stubborn kid deserves an equally stubborn headache.

As he went to sip more of his tea, he found his cup empty. Scowling, he poured himself another cup and stared at the herbal ambrosia. All of this brooding was interfering with his tea time.

He took a deep sip and smacked his lips with contentment. Ultimately, he would have to wait and see how everything played out. He cared for the boy, and he cared for the others. He trained them well, and he knew they would help Cyrus get a leg underneath him in this world. He trusted them more than he trusted his blood brother. And whatever comes by the turn of the century, he would be ready. To protect his kingdom, his subordinates, and the lives of the hopefuls, the adventurers who will rise and fall in equal measure, was his duty.

Knock. Knock. "Sir?" asked his assistant from behind the door. "I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but I have more request forms."

For a moment, he heavily debated breaking his promise and running away as fast as he could from the building. Losing bets and favours be damned. If I have to spend another year doing this, I'll march to the capital myself and kick Allaron's ass! I can shape the roots to fit the exact shape of his face, and I'll shove it right up th-

"Sir? Are you okay in there? I must get back to the desk. The new receptionist can barely handle it while I'm there. And I'm afraid of what will happen if I don't return."

Brelten let out a loud and drawn-out groan as he stored away his tea and adjusted his cloak. With a sigh and the acceptance of a long and tedious night, he waved a hand at the door.

Talis' concerned face was revealed, along with another mountain of documents in his hands. Brelten released another weary sigh and channeled some mana.

Thickened roots grew from the wooden floor, lifting the documents from the elf's arms. Talis blinked a few times at the sight but nodded his head and quickly scurried down the hallway.

As Brelten controlled the roots to deposit their cargo onto his desk, he saw that the top sheet was a registration paper for a pearl rank guild member.

With a smirk, he grabbed the paper and began reading the details on the newest adventurer to join their ranks.

Boy, you better be a tier one the next time I see you. Gods or monsters, dungeons or rifts, nobles or kings, you better be prepared for what's to come.

Andrew deposited the coins on the counter and took the room tokens from the innkeeper. He put the tokens in his pocket and shouldered past a pair of large beastkins, making their way to the front desk.

The inn was filled to the brim with patrons, and it was hard to find his group in the crowd. Luckily, all he had to do was follow the sound of whoever was arguing. With almost comical ease, he found his teammates sitting in a booth in the far right corner of the room. Aaron sloshed his drink around as he aggressively tapped at the table while Oro hid behind Ruina. Ruina, for her part, was twirling her finger in her drink as she ignored the two idiots' bickering.

The sight of Oro being timid would never not be strange to Andrew's eyes. The once brash and overly aggressive young man full of misplaced confidence had been replaced by one still brash but no longer aggressive. And his confidence was finally at tolerable levels, not that Andrew would ever say it to his face.

"And I'm telling you, we would be sitting at Oleanders miserable and bored as we waited for our turn in the dungeon. Do you want to wait two weeks between delves? No? Then stop complaining," Aaron argued, his ale splashing his feet.

The man was obviously drunk, somehow getting intoxicated from a single cup. And one look at Oro, showed the same was true for the elf. With a bone-deep headache beginning to form, he muscled his way past Aaron, who ignored him as he glared at Oro.

"The dungeon expanded. I'm sure the wait time isn't that bad. And even if it were, the chance to obtain new materials would be worth it. Do you know how much money alchemists will pay? We might have been able to save up enough to afford a dimensional storage!" Oro countered from behind his sister.

Andrew couldn't help but snort. "The wait time might be even worse now that the dungeon was officially appraised. And even if we stayed, we'd have to live like homeless monks if we wanted to buy one of those. Maybe after a year of eating nothing but stale bread and river water."

Oro pointed an accusing finger at him. "Don't take his side just because you share the same initials! Don't you want to stop carrying that heavy axe all the time? I want to stop lugging my staff everywhere." The last sentence was muttered as if it was an afterthought, and the elf got weirdly silent as he stared at his drink.

Seeing that the argument was finally winding down and Aaron was busy swaying in his seat, he turned to Ruina and tossed her one of the room tokens. She caught it without looking and let out a sigh.

"Still thinking about that guy?" Andrew asked casually.

She stopped messing with her drink and stared him directly in the eyes. "Yes."

"I see..." He nodded his head slowly. "I still don't understand why you're so hung up on him. We barely knew him, for a day at most. And he's insane. You saw how he went ballistic on the skrell."

"And you seem to forget he saved us multiple times inside that dungeon. His glowing pink eyes that stare into your soul, that athletic body, and the way his horns curve into the air. Mmmmm."

He raised an eyebrow. "And the way his body looked while he was drenched in blood? How he seemed to have an endless pool of mana to use as he turned everything into a pile of smoking ash?"

"Exactly! Oh, Andrew. I wish I had taken the chance while I still could. Now he's gone to who knows where, and I'm not there with him."

"You know he supposedly lost his best friend right before we met him, right? That and all the other people who died in the rift. I don't think fucking was what he had on mind."

She slammed a fist onto the table, creating a slight tremor that made her brother yelp and caused Aaron to slip and hit his head. "No way, that's exactly why I should have taken the chance. A hurt soul like him would need a deeper kind of affection than what his two little spirits could give him. And stop looking at me like I'm crazy, I'm just a girl in love."

What's the difference? He thought but wisely kept to himself.

Aaron groaned as he cradled his head, and Andrew grabbed him by the shoulders to prevent him from stumbling over his spilled drink. With a sigh, he picked the man up and threw him over his shoulder. Turning to Ruina, he motioned his chin to her brother. "Come on, let's get these two to bed before they hurt themselves further. Be happy that I managed to secure rooms on the first floor."

Ruina downed her drink and lifted her brother with ease. Despite the woman's small frame, her brother weighed like a sack of feathers. With a final sigh, she stood up and followed her team leader. "At least one good thing came out of all this. Even I thought my brother's opinion of Aaron's skill was stupid and shortsighted."

Then why didn't you speak up! It would have saved me so many headaches.

He kept his tongue from waggling for the third time tonight and trudged up the stairs. At least, with Aaron drunk, he'd finally get some peaceful sleep.

And as he glanced at Ruina her expression distant and bored he couldn’t help but think of that man.

Sorry Cyrus, but please stay as far away as fucking possible. I got too much to live for.

Warren circled the beast as Nadia and Marcus kept it busy. He only needed one hit to finish the fight. And his body was itching to use his skills.

Channeling mana down his arm and into his weapon, he moved behind the elder emberboar and waited. Luckily, his skill wouldn't drain his mana till after he needed to activate its effect. Now, all he needed to do was wait for the perfect moment.

Lowering his stance in preparation, he stood with his sword aimed and ready.

Marcus stepped in front of Nadia and activated his Stone Shield skill. The metal kite shield in his hand turned a dusky grey as large stone spikes began to cover the metal. When the pissed-off emberboar charged, he tucked in his shoulder and braced himself. With his Stand Your Ground passive, the heavy beast smashed into the stone spikes, crushing most of them. But Marcus stayed standing in place, mostly unharmed, as his body channeled the brunt of the kinetic force into the ground.

Then Nadia was there, and she raised her sword high. With a shout, she activated her only attack skill, Sword Echo, and swung her blade at the beast's front legs. Her blade sliced cleanly through its thickened hide but not nearly deep enough to disable the beast. Unfortunately for the emberboar, her skill's effect activated, and a blade made of white light sliced the spot where her blade cut and forced the pig to its knees.

"Warren!" she called out as she jumped behind Marcus.

Warren didn't need to be told anything as he was already running at full sprint towards the beast's behind. As he got closer, the emberboar must have sensed the danger approaching because it sent a blazing kick towards Warren's middle.

With a flush of mana into his legs, Ground Slide activated, and his body was jerked out of the way. Not wanting to let the beast have another chance to retaliate, he plunged his sword into the boar's thigh. His blade only penetrated a couple of inches, but that was more than enough.

With a flex of his will, all the mana coating the edge of his sword was injected into the area around the wound. More mana was spent as he planted the magic seeds inside the beast's body.

Backing up and preemptively crouching on one knee, his skill Thorn Bomb activated, and the back half of the beast sprouted massive thorns that ripped and gored its flesh. A final painful squeal made him cover his ears, but the beast's head flopped to the ground as blood flowed from its orifices.

The cost of using his skill hit Warren in full as his body began to shiver. His mana pool was drained from using his skill, but his foresight to crouch before the effects hit him kept him from falling over. With one arm pushing against the ground, he tried to steady his breath and sit down.

Marcus and Nadia walked around the beast corpse and joined him.

Marcus strapped his shield and flashed him some signs. "Okay? Scary. Skill. Bad meat."

Warren chuckled, but his lungs hurt, so he lowered it to a slight giggle. "You're not wrong. Cyrus said the same thing when I showed it to him."

Nadia whistled and flopped beside him, resting her blade on her feet so the blood wouldn't stain her uniform. "Was that the same day you two...?"

"Yes. Shut up."

Nadia smiled, her efforts to tease him successful. Then her face stooped, and she looked away. Warren reached a hand out and placed it on her shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. I'm sure he's fine; wherever Sam is, she is just as good. Hells, she was always the more boisterous of the two. She's probably delving into some dungeon with a fellow team of badass as she leads the charge."

Nadia knocked her shoulder into his, which caused him to bump Marcus, who was beginning to sit down. "It's fine. There's no need to comfort me. We barely knew them. It's not like they spent half a year together learning to become guards. It's fine, I swear."

Warren was about to speak up, but Marcus flung a small pebble at her shoulder. It hit, and she instinctively yelped and glared daggers at the bulky elf, but he stared back with a frown etched on his face. "Stupid. Good Friends. Miss them. Wish them Well. Okay, to Care."

Marcus signed quickly, angrily. Nadia opened her mouth once but then closed it a second later. Her shoulders slumped, and she leaned against Warren's body. "You're right. Sorry. It's weird, right? We only met because Cyrus decided to use his magic all over Warren's body. A month spent hanging out, fighting, and more, and somehow it hurts now when I think about never seeing them again."

"We'll see them again." Nadia looked up, almost surprised at how confidently he said those words. He held up his sword and pointed it to the sky. "Don't look so shocked. Cyrus already said he'd visit, and I'm inclined to believe him. And Sam is a tough woman, and I mean more than her big blue muscles." The last part was said with a glance to Nadia as she blushed.

Good, if you're going to throw innuendo digs at me, you should expect some in return.

Continuing, he lowered his sword and laid back with his arms behind his head. "We know what they are, and we know the stories. Even if those two reached beyond this plane and into the next, so what? They'll be our friends, and we'll still hang out. Personally, that felkin owes me some candy. So I know that we have yet to see the last of them. And that means no more moping. We have skills now! And with the dungeon being a viable chance to get more or at least enough gold to buy more, we'll have to ensure we're strong enough not to embarrass ourselves when we meet again."

He felt silly saying such bold words, but the others didn't laugh at him. Instead, when he raised his head to see their faces, he found the both of them looking at him with smiling faces.

Good, you've spent enough nights crying. A smile suits your face so much more.

Suddenly, Marcus stood up and brushed himself off. His hands weaved through a series of signs that made the other two groan. "Not dressing kill. Called first. Good luck."

Nadia tried to escape, not wanting to get her uniform covered in blood, but Warren kept a death grip on her wrist. "Not-uh. You made me clean the beast last time; it's your turn."

Nadia pouted as she motioned to the corpse with her blade. "But it's your skill!"

Warren shook his head and stood up to join Marcus. The two crossed their arms and stared expectantly. With a defeated groan, she walked into the treeline, where they stashed their packs and went to grab the field-dressing kit.

With a smile, Warren fist-bumped Marcus and pulled a cloth from his pocket. After cleaning his blade, he resheathed the weapon and stared into the evening sky.

You better stay alive, Cyrus. Or I'm going to look like a massive idiot.