Otherworldly - A Shadowed Awakening

Fall of Autumn, Week 5, Day 7

"If you come in tomorrow, we can get you in sometime in Winter, I'm sure. It's just a matter of finding a gap in the schedule." Young Mr. Twern said.

I gave a light laugh. "Okay. What else do you need from me before tomorrow?"

"Just a general material budget, we want to be sure we give you the right source information."

I looked at Juniper, who looked up at Sylvie, who gave a frown. "You have the entirety of your Winter allowance coming in two days."

I nodded, turning to look at the man. "Best materials you can source for a few gold, no more than five?"

"Oh, um," he stuttered, then paled, glancing at the maid. "By chance, do you have a last name, Miss Nora?"

I pressed my lips together, and beside me, Juniper straightened up.

"It's Dawn," I said quietly, and the man dropped his pen.

"Lady Dawn?" His voice was pitched too high to be intentional.

I flinched at the expression of horror growing on his face.

"Excuse me, just a moment, ma'am! No, Lady! I'll be right back; let me get my father!"

"No, it's fine—" I tried to say, but he was already letting the door slam behind him.

I looked sheepishly at Juniper and Sylvie, and said, "Oops."

Juniper laughed lightly. "You should have just said your name when he asked the first time. Then he wouldn't have freaked out so much."

Wrinkling my nose, I nodded. "You're probably right."

I caught Sylvie rolling her eyes in the corner of my Perception, and while it irked me, I let it go. For the moment. I was growing tired of the disdain. But she was teaching Juniper, so I just had to wait a while longer for her presence to vanish from my life.

It was a short few minutes, wherein I heard even more shouting from behind the door, in both male and female voices, before another man barrelled through the door. He had pitch black hair and small glasses that hung low across his nose. He was lithe, but not lanky, and he had a tight-lipped smile on his face. Around the folds of his clothes were small shards of glass that sparkled in the light, and as he moved they left behind a glittering cloud that slowly sank to the ground.

"Lady Dawn, it's a pleasure to meet you," the man, who must have been Micah Twern, said, his voice rushed.

I smiled gently. "It's a pleasure for me as well, Mr. Twern. But you didn't need to rush out to greet me. I would have been plenty happy to come back tomorrow."

"Nonsense!" He waved me off. "What kind of service would that be for one of my most valued patrons?"

He grabbed the paper that his son had been filling out from the counter and began reading it.

"Hmmm, best materials for under five gold, that's easy—most of our materials only cost such monstrous sums in heaping quantities. For such small figurines, I could even enchant them." He hummed, leaning over to make notes as he skimmed the paper. He glanced at the knit animals sitting next to him and nodded. "Matching base colors will be simple, and I can create the refraction with a clear glass and simple mold."

He peered up at me. "Do you want me to keep the crocheted pattern of the source material?"

I nodded and twitched my fingers, wanting to grab one of the stuffed animals, but I reminded myself that they simply represented the spirits that lived in my shadow now. That there were still many more to name, to love, to grow with. That I would never be alone again.

"Can do. I'll have to take extra care with the mold and formation, but it shouldn't be anything other than time-consuming."

"Really?" I found myself asking, "Wouldn't you need a [Weaving] Skill or something to recreate it?"

Mr. Twern looked up, a glint in his eyes. "Very perceptive of you, my Lady. In a way. I will likely use a protective enchantment on the source material and cast directly from it, shrink the mold, and then layer the glass there. I will be borrowing the creator's Skill for myself in that way."

Glancing at the knit animals, he frowned. "I apologize, my Lady. But may I ask who crafted these? My [Deconstruct] is not picking up a creator's attachment."

I paused before tentatively saying, "A creator's attachment? I don't know what that is."

Mr. Twern smiled down at me. "No, I suppose that wouldn't come up until much later. Crafting Skills give the creator's System the ability to link to the item crafted and create an attachment. It is why, when one's [Inspect] reaches Level 20, we are capable of seeing who crafted an item, if it is not a limited-access setting. All evolved versions of [Inspect] keep this ability, so you can understand my confusion about the lack of creator—[REDACTED] or otherwise."

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"Oh, well, uhm, then that's just because I didn't know about it. I knit them myself using [Weaving]." I said, a bit overwhelmed at the thought of not claiming what was mine—what I cherished so deeply. "How do I tag them?"

Mr. Twern blinked before shaking his head lightly and refocusing his gaze. "Sorry, yes, well, it really is a simple System prompt. You infuse some mana into the object with the intention of claiming it. It only works if it was created using a crafting Skill."

I stepped forward, grabbing the panda that used to be Haze, and felt the ice of my mana flood into him from my palm.

He's mine. Mine. Mine!

[System Notice: You have created an object using the Skills [Weaving] and [Weave of Darkness]. Would you like to claim this object as your creation?]

[WARNING: This action is irreversible unless the object is entirely deconstructed.]

A smile formed on my face, and I sent a single word to the prompt.

Yes.

[System Notice: You have claimed your first object. What name would you like the System to recognize your crafting under?]

I paused, then sent what I knew it should be.

[System Notice: You have registered your first object under the name Nora of Fellan. Congratulations!]

Nora of Adeline was no more. I was not of the Dawn or of the city nearest my birthplace.

I was Nora of Fellan, and I would choose this as my roots.

As the place where I grew and became more.

As the place I could call my home.

I heard Mr. Twern hum, but he made no further comment.

He only asked a few more questions, simple things—like when did I want it and the actual size of the figurines. They had simple answers—like whenever he could fit me in was fine and half the size of the actual knit animals.

Soon enough we were loading back up into the carriage, but before Juniper could climb in Sylvie grabbed her shoulder and stilled her.

"My Lady, we must do some shopping before returning. Juniper needs to know the vendors we use to source your supplies."

Juniper looked at Sylvie and nodded seriously.

"All right," I paused, my eyes drifting to the forest outside the gate, "but take Sir Neil and Arlen. They'll make sure you get home safe. And I know you have funds, so use some to rent a carriage back to the estate."

"Your will be done, my Lady," Sylvie said dryly before Sir Neil and Arlen rounded the carriage on their horses.

"My Lady, are you sure?" Dame Arella said from where she sat in the carriage driver's seat. "It is—"

"Enough to have you and Klein," I finished for her. "I would hate for something to happen to the others without them."

"Very well, my Lady," Dame Arella sighed before looking at Sir Neil and Arlen. "See you back at the barracks, you two. No shenanigans."

Sir Neil looked wounded, but Arlen just looked sheepish and said, "Yes, Dame Arella."

I stole another glance at the dark branches shifting in the wind before saying, "But just in case we should stay within the walls until we get to the main gate."

"Of course." Dame Arella nodded, settling back into her seat.

I finished climbing into the carriage, closing the door lightly behind me, and sat by the far window. Once inside the cabin, Noir detached from my shadow and climbed into my lap.

"Hello," he said as he twirled and laid down across my legs. His arms hung over my thighs and I huffed a laugh.

"Bored, Entertainer?" I hummed to him, running my hand over his head.

"Shhhhhh, I'm no longer Entertainer. Though the desire to dance is not a foreign one."

I gently tugged on Noir's hand and lifted him up, light as a feather, and smiled. "Then let's dance, Noir. You and me. Just like we did all those months ago."

Noir wiggled lightly, jumping down from my grip and standing next to me on the plush cushion. He wrapped his hand around my finger and began to guide my hand around in a familiar pattern.

The Oscarian Six Step.

The dance of my homeland. Of the Dome. Of Berlin, before the fall.

His legs moved deftly, and I twirled him at all the proper times. Humming the traditional tunes, I had a smile on my face. There were words I could not remember or could not share, but there was a way to gain them back again. A way to experience my old home once more.

There had to be a way to give them to Noir, Shade, and Haze as well.

At the thought of the other two spirits, I looked outside. Haze, I knew, was sitting atop the roof, basking in the sun's warmth. Shade was more difficult to locate, even with [Shadow Manipulation] active. She was darting through shadows to keep up with the carriage as we trundled down the streets of Fellan.

Defender and Adventurer. Now Shade and Haze.

Soon, I would need to name the others. Give them positions by my side. But then what? [Shadow Animation] just called more of the archetypes. I could summon only the original 16, no more, before there would be duplicates.

I watched as Noir danced. As I felt the coldness of mana against my fingertips, I decided that was a choice to be made in due time. After I'd found names for the others, places in my life. Commander needed a name soon, as did Advocate. Both were stalwart companions. There were many just like that, every one a member of an ever-growing family. A family I cherished. Truly, deeply, wholly.

Once Noir had danced himself out and was back to splaying his small body across my lap, I let myself drift off to sleep to thoughts of darkness and shadows and the coldness they filled me with. The coldness that made me feel safe and loved and ready to take on the world.

When I opened my eyes, though, it was to the rough vibrations of a racing carriage—and the shouting of Dame Arella.

"C'mon, Klein! Stay close—no, too close! Keep them at bay but maintain your position around our Lady!"

I blearily rubbed my eyes, as the words began registering. Then, my heart skipped a beat and I jumped up, looking out the window.

The window that showed me the crimson-headed squire with his sword out and slashing.

The window that showed me the forest wall passing by faster than ever before.

The window that showed the tree wall moving, not just with the wind but with the steps of behemoths.

The window that showed me visions of my nightmares.

Nightmares I had been trying to forget.

"Blights," I said, horror dawning on my face, my hand clamping down around my mouth to stop a scream from forming.

I felt the labored breathing in my chest before realizing I wasn't—breathing, that was. I was frozen in time. Brought back to when the Lady Perry had a blight trapped in her basement. Brought back to the day Oberon died.

And outside, Klein was fighting monsters triple in size.