The Grand Weave

Grasping hands reached for my face. Move. Run. Squirm. Nothing. There was no escape. THERE IS NO ESCAPE!

I launched myself out of my bed and scrambled to the far wall. Instinctively, my mana flooded my pathways as I scanned the room for the threat. The sun was still out, so the room was decently lit with next to no shadows.

My heart was racing, drowning all sound as it thumped in my chest. It took more than a minute to calm myself down. Once I realized that it was a nightmare and not an actual monster ready to kill me in my sleep, I relaxed the current of mana coursing through me and slowly slid down the wall. When I held up my hands, I saw that they were shaking uncontrollably.

For some reason, the sight of myself shivering in some messed-up cocktail of fear and anxiety made me laugh. It wasn't a joyous laugh but rather a vocal release of tension. I'm sure I looked insane as I laughed at nothing while shaking like a frightened puppy. That laugh turned into a growl, and I clawed at the floor.

Why the hell are you shaking, Cyrus? You throw yourself at monsters bigger than cars. You ate a fireball from a tier-two witch. You're not this pathetic. You're not this weak-willed! Stop it, damnit!

When I raised my hands off the floor, I saw that I had left behind deep claw marks half an inch thick. I didn't think Bera would appreciate the damage. I figured it was easier to apologize right away rather than try to hide it. I didn't actually believe Bera would be too mad about it, especially if I explained the reason behind it. Not that I ever would.

A quick check with my system clock revealed it was barely past four in the afternoon. It looks like I slept for a decent amount of time, but not nearly as long as I would have liked. I wasn't ready to talk to people, so I picked up the book Brelten handed me. I might be able to find information on Cal.

After an hour of studying, I summoned Chomperz and threw the book into the air. The little dragonling caught it within his suction vortex and swallowed the book before it hit the ground. With a friendly chomp, he rushed back into my soulspace.

I was frustrated. The book was very informative about the major pantheons of Inoria. Cal mentioned this world was big, but I didn't really think about what that meant for the number of gods that watch over it. According to the book, there was one main pantheon consisting of thirteen gods. However, there were twelve other officially known pantheons across all of Inoria. The book went out of its way to point out that not all gods were in a pantheon with other gods. Several smaller tribes of people or even monsters who worshipped minor divinities existed all over Inoria.

And even after an hour spent committing all the information to memory, I couldn't find a single entry or mention of Calstrax. Cal wasn't lying when he said he wasn't a name I'd find in temples and that he had no worshippers or devotees. The closest I got to discovering something about him was a minor god who usually took the form of a fox. That was it. No other gods or goddesses shared a similarity to Cal.

Yet again, it was another thing to add to the list. Hopefully, there will be enough time to tackle most of my questions the next time we talk.

With boredom starting to creep in, I decided to head out and do something. Anything would beat staring at the walls of the room. Before leaving the inn, I went to the bar and waited for Bera to leave the kitchen. When she saw me, she quickly served the food she was carrying and rushed over.

When she neared, she grabbed me and gave me a hug. After I hugged her back, she held me with her arms extended and studied me from head to toe. "Cyrus, are you okay? You look a little rough, dear.

I felt a tinge of embarrassment, but I patted her hands gently. "I'm doing fine. Had some trouble sleeping, is all. I, uh, I need to apologize. When I woke up, I accidentally fell, and I ended up scratching the floor. I'll pay you whatever it takes to fix the damage, but I wanted to apologize first," I admitted.

She shook her head and gave me a kind look. "Don't be silly. I'll have Brelten fix it the next time he stops by. However, do try not to cause any more damage if you can. Now, if you're having trouble sleeping, I can make some tea for you. It'll have you sleeping like an ogre after lunch," she said kindly.

"Those exist? Never mind, of course, they do. I might take you up on that later. I'm going to head out and get some fresh air. See you later, Bera."

She gave me another pat on the arm before she resumed her whirlwind of being a barkeep, server, and chef all at once. It was rather impressive how she managed everything. She certainly didn't need any hired help.

With nothing in particular to do, I decided it was time to properly re-arm myself. The knife was useful, but without a spear in my hands, I felt underequipped. It was funny, less than a month, and somehow, I felt weird about not having a weapon after a lifetime of being a pacifist. Somewhere, someday, in the future, I imagine my therapist downing cups of wine as they massaged their headache away. Not that I thought therapists existed in this world.

As I stepped into Volan's forge, I felt the comforting heat start drying my skin. The forge itself was blazing hot as the red brick glowed cherry red. Volan plunged his hand into the fire and grabbed what looked like a shimmering, yellow metal sphere. The oni was unbothered by the flames and hot metal. He casually inspected the sphere from all angles, turning it in his hands. Once he seemed satisfied with his inspection, he opened his mouth, and I felt a trace of mana flow through the air. Like when Sam and I first met Volan, the oni ate the heat coming off the sphere. Within a few seconds, he closed his mouth and set the orb on a nearby stone table. After ensuring it was secure, he turned around and froze when he saw me. That lasted a half dozen seconds before he marched over in a rush and grabbed me by the shoulders.

"You're alive! By all the gods, you're alive! I heard what happened, and I assumed you were dead when I didn't see you amongst the survivors. Where's your friend, Sam? Did my gear hold up? Do you need repairs?" he barked, his voice filled with relief and astonishment.

I squirmed in his grip, and when he noticed my discomfort, he released me, freeing my arms. I was taken aback by the sense of concern the blacksmith displayed. Outside of a couple of times we went to see him for our gear, I hardly knew the man. It seems he cared more for random strangers than I would have expected.

"Ahem, uh, it's just me. There was an accident, and Sam and I were separated. Outside of her being alive, I don't know where she is. I'm sorry," I said awkwardly.

His face drooped into a frown, and his eyes sunk a little. He took a step back and gave a shallow nod. "No reason to be sorry, lad. I'm glad you made it out."

I hesitated, but my curiosity got the better of me. "If you don't mind me asking, and don't take this the wrong way. Why do you care?" When his face started to scrunch, I held up my hands placatingly. "I don't mean anything by it, it's just Sam and I only ever shopped here twice. That's hardly enough time to deepen our relationship enough for you to care so much."

I wasn't sure what I had to gain by asking him this, questioning his motives, or being suspicious of what looked like genuine concern. I wasn't angry; I wasn't feeling a spike of rage building, but rather, it was like an itch I needed to scratch.

The oni stared at me in silence for a long time before grunting. He motioned for me to follow him into his store proper. "Not all blacksmiths feel this way, mind you. But for many, for those like me, when a customer buys your creations, you care. I create with pride, as all blacksmiths should. I smith weapons and armour. I treat leather, wrap handles, and all those other things needed for my chosen trade," he started. After we entered his store, he went behind the counter and leaned against the wall. "Every sword or dagger, any spear or shield I create, when someone buys it and uses it in situations that decide whether or not the wielder lives or dies, I care. I'm not stupid enough to feel responsible for people's actions, but when a blade snaps or a piece of armour falls apart, I need to know that it wasn't because of me. That I did my part in keeping someone alive, and I did all I could by doing the best I could at the time. So, as I said, while you two may have only ever bought something from me on two occasions, I essentially outfitted you both entirely with my work. You two not coming back alive from the rift weighed on my soul. There was a bit of concern that your deaths were because of me."

His words were heavy, and he spoke with such a solemnity that I felt bad for my words from earlier. The man had a strange look in his eyes, and I could tell there was something in his past that attributed to this mindset, but I wasn't going to push. Both because there was no reason to prod just to satisfy my curiosity and because I still needed a decent relationship with the man if I wanted to buy more things from him.

"Thank you for answering me, Volan. I want you to know that your gear was the only reason I made it out alive, everything from the bracers on my arms to the free dagger you gave me. Without it, I'd be very much dead. And besides, nothing I could have bought would have done anything against what we faced. You did good, Volan." I gave the man a bow, dipping lower than I usually would. The action was starting to feel familiar the longer I stayed in this world.

The oni huffed, and he scratched his cheek. "Fine. You don't need to thank me. You paid for everything, after all. So why are you here? What can I do for you?"

I summoned the scrap remains of my armour and gently set it on the countertop. As an afterthought, I took off my boots and placed them next to the scraps. Volan's eye twitched, and he stared at the scraps with a snarl growing on his face.

"These are what remains after going through hell. I need a new set as well as a new spear. A monster stole it from me after burning the building down around me," I explained, my tone sweet and innocent.

His eye twitched again, but he grabbed the scraps and threw them into a bin while taking the boots and started inspecting them. It took over thirty minutes of bartering back and forth with the annoyed blacksmith, but eventually, I had a new set of leather armour and a spear. The boots had the dents beaten out, and the leather was restitched in places where the stitching had frayed, but the rest of my gear was brand new.

This time, the leather was made up of dark blue scales that covered my entire upper torso. The hood was back, as well as a dark stained cape made of the scale material as the armour. Apparently, it was made from the drop snake Sam and I took down. When I mentioned that to Volan, he started lecturing me on knowing how to kill beasts better so I wouldn't ruin the material so much. I wanted to point out that it was trying to crush Sam, but it didn't seem to matter to the craftsman.

The largest bulk of my money went into my new spear. It was similar in design to my old one, but there were a few differences. The middle of the shaft was wrapped in black leather with a grid pattern pressed into it. Volan explained that it was there to help with maintaining my grip. Instead of two wings at the base of the spearhead, there was a long half-crescent with the points facing downward. The final difference was the type of metal.

The blade was made of a speckled silver metal called Sidosten, which was an uncommon metal similar to steel but looked like silver with specks of white splatter.

Volan grumbled as he thrust the spear into my hands. "Don't lose this one."

I chuckled and summoned Chomperz. He swallowed the new armour and spear without much fanfare. He did stop and wave at the blacksmith before disappearing. I really wish I could communicate with the little guy.

"I swear to try my best. I can't make any promises, though," I offered.

Before he could open his mouth to retort, the shop's door swung open. "Hey, Volan! The captain has a new order to make. He needs some new swo-" a familiar voice called out.

I turned around and gave a half-hearted smile. "Hello, Warren. How are you doing?"

He took a step closer but then stopped in place. "Cyrus? You're alive?"