• In a world that seems to lie between and betwixt everything that happened, only a select few chose to transverse its odd landscape. At first glance all any would see was darkness all around with stars in the sky and a landscape that was never touched by the sun, the testament to this would be the bare, spidery tree limbs that dotted the mist covered landscape. The only thing that stood out from the shadows and gloom was the rough, white stone castle that sat a bit back from a beach of black sands and midnight blue water that continuously shifted with the water currents. Above the rather creepy, almost graveyard like landscape was three moons-- two as full and glowing gold like a harvest moon and the last was an upside down crescent tainted blood red-- which gave the landscape a bit of light yet nothing penetrated the shadows and mist.

    “Oh for the love of mercy and needles.” Was the muttering that broke the silence, coming from a pale young woman that was sitting on the beach, her tattered and patch work dress pooling around her legs while she held a needle up to eye level. A groan made it past her black lips as she ran her right hand through her brown hair, callused fingers getting caught at the nape of her neck where her bun was falling out. Her mind was just now accepting the fact that her favorite needle, her lucky needle and one of the first ones she had received from her mother before her death, had finally kicked the bucket, the thin metal of the eye broken into two pieces. “Of all days for you to break.” She whined, reaching over and stabbing it through an orange pincushion in the shape of a richly dressed voodoo doll, a gag gift from the Abyss Mother and she still had yet to figure out the joke.

    She had decided a change of scenery, which brought her to the beach in search of whatever may have, or may not have, washed up on the shore. After finding a few shells and the occasional bottled message, to add to the collection back at the castle, she had settled on the sand, cross legged, and working on weaving some strands of thread into a small patch of cloth so that it may be expanded upon by one of the apprentices who were close to Master level. Those lazy teens had to earn their keep some how and leaving any of them to boredom for too long left much danger to all those that reside within the world.

    No one had figured out how to remove the cotton candy pink bubblegum from the suit of armor, yet another eccentric gift only this time from the Lord of Scythes in hopes of catching the eye of one of the other Weavers. She ended up screaming and running through the corridors until she ran into another room and hiding under the bed, scaring the wits from the new apprentice that had not been filled in on the comings and goings upon arrival. That story will never be told for good reason; no one would ever believe it without having first witnessed it themselves.

    Spindly fingers carefully ran over the thick, black cloth bindings that went from wrist to elbow on her right arm. She had to be very careful since this was usually where she kept most of her needles and pins, seeing her line of work could get a bit complicated. One never knew when a random moth, lawyer, or cat would decided to spontaneously wage war on anything in fabric or around fabric! The last time she had gone without the bindings around her arm a weird man with a fetish to tops had torn her shirt right down the side seams in the middle of a public area after all the trouble the others went through to get her to take a vacation and the pain staking time of setting up her first vacation!

    All the women in that region had thrown parties for a week when they found out that said man was still recovering from acupuncture gone wrong, supposedly she had a small following in that area of that particular world and she refused to go back. Her brothers loved to tease her about it when she visited, then they would find themselves with no seams in their clothing and women’s clothing. Thankfully, that was a totally different story for a different day… like when one of them might be getting married and embarrassing them in front of said prospective young woman… or lad. Never know how a person swings in that area.

    Shaking her head to dispel her wondering thoughts, she pulled another needle from her bindings and picked up the strand of thread that had broken her needle and smirked. She would thread the damn thing even if it meant going back and ringing a latch hook to get it on to the cloth! This time the needle was threaded, which she pumped her other fist in the air with her victory, but that victory was shorted lived as she examined the thread again only to sit and stare at the color. It was unique, something that she had not seen since she was a child, back when she was learning how to weave and embroider cloths, stories, fate and destiny. “Ah! A particular one has been given chance.” She muttered, getting to her feet with a grin. Ignoring the sand that clung to her legs and dress, she carefully stashed the other piece of cloth into the bundle that sat at the small of her back and pull out a black swatch of cloth and proceeded to anchor the thread to the cloth. With that she took off running back to the castle.

    This called for an urgent council meeting!

    Darting through the dead gardens and up a cobble stone path, in her bare feet, was not her idea but time was of the essence! The doors automatically opened for her, sensing her presence, and she bowed respectfully to them before darted inside before they decided that she was wasting their time. Blasted sentient doors, why did her predecessors decide they were the best for guarding this place? The foyer she appeared in was made of smooth marble with a simple waterfall set into the wall across from the doors and a garden of water lilies that covered the entire floor, forcing those entering to either walk on the large lily pads of be confident in their abilities to walk on water. “Grand Master Zen!” a few of the apprentices stated as they watched her carefully tiptoe through the blooming water lilies, almost like she was playing hopscotch, and then vaulting over the last few feet to stand in front of them with a mischievous grin on her face.

    “Assemble the Master Council, tell them I have arrived with an urgent dealing that must be seen now and not later! Any you dilly-dally will find themselves working on my project alone!” Zen declared with a sadistic smile and gleam in her midnight blue eyes, which made the apprentices rather uneasy as they scrambled off in all directions to find said people. This left her to saunter straight through the thread and yarn covered main chamber that split into five different passages, only to go down the first left handed passage. That one was rather short, seeing only her rooms were located there, and she pushed open the wooden door at the end of the corridor and entered her messy rooms.

    Cloth, pincushions, lace projects, cloths, and such were strewn about in something akin to organized chaos, which caused her to tiptoe through like she did in the foyer. It would be better not to disturb any of her other projects, especially since she came in to get dressed for the meeting. She carefully deposited the cloth with the thread, which had frayed into over twenty colors of varying lengths with the original piece of thread about a foot longer, and needle on her barren vanity and started to strip cloths off, throwing them in random directions. Zen growled in annoyance, brushing lint off of her black knickers and corset, before fishing out a dark blue, silk robe from a pile of cloths in front of the vanity. “I really need to clean, don’t I?” she muttered pulling the robe on, smoothing it down in some places and grinning. She picked the cloth up again; the thread fraying had increased by ten and lengthened by a couple inches, and retraced her path out of her room and back to the main chamber.

    As many of the old women scampered too and from the chamber, she side stepped many of the potential crashes and sauntered down the middle passage, grinning like a Cheshire cat that just made someone’s life a whole lot more complicated than it really should have been. That corridor had doors on both sides, but no door at the end. It actually opened up into a large, round, and airy room with floor to ceiling windows and white, gauzy curtains that moved in the wind. Several pillows and mats were strewn in a crude circle, which she crossed to sit on the black pillow that looked like it needed to be laid to rest. “I go right my room, change, and double back and I am still the first one here.” Zen growled as she nudged her pillow with her left foot. “For once I’d like to be the one walking into an already assembled meeting waiting for me!”

    “Sounds like a personal problem, Patchwork Queen.” a voice laughed as she plopped down on the pillow and stared at the amused older woman in a long, flowing gray dress. “Best characteristic of you, Zen, always more resourceful than those around you and it pisses the enemy off.”

    “Are you still going on about that?” Zen deadpanned as the older woman cackled. “Geez, use a pin in an inappropriate way you’re your banned for life. He so deserved it!” She added throwing her hands in the air as many of the newcomers laughed as they entered. In moments they had situated themselves, which was a testament to how spry some of the older Masters were.

    “What is the meaning of this meeting, Grand Master Zen?” another asked respectfully as the youngest one, in looks, held up the needle with a thread that was slowly getting longer before their eyes and breaking off into different strands of varying lengths.

    “This little strand has managed the near impossible… it literally is giving birth to a deviation. The child that represents this strand is something that has been lost and the Abyss has decided to bring back. A curve ball, if you will.” Zen stated, now they were all whispering and doing a good impression of a babbling brook. “No choice either, but this looks to be pretty damn interesting.”

    “What?” another squawked out as she rolled her eyes and laid the cloth and threads on the floor in front of her.

    “If we ignore this the Abyss can legally kill us without mercy because that goes against the creed that was passed down, the oath that we took. Plus, this one looks to have a rather interesting bunch involved.” She stated slowly, as if talking to a child, as a few snickered at the woman’s embarrassment. “Have you gone senile? You’re a child in comparison to me and I still remember that!”

    “I know the creed!” the woman snapped and huffed, attempting to pout like a child while glaring daggers at Zen.

    “Mercy, act your age woman!” A man grumbled, then realized that he had instantly become the focus of a rather intense the death glare, while the rest of the people wisely chose to ignore this “lovers” spat.

    “I move that two Grand Master’s work on this, seeing at least seven or eight main lines are present with only three of them being prominent. That would be overkill for just one and no master can handle those lines without being burned out.” One of the more leveled headed weavers, who looked to be a teenage boy but that was just his way with screwing with peoples minds, stated with a frown. “Some of us can handle one, but to have seven people working on the beginning of one project is just suicide for all parties involved.”

    “We only have three Grand Masters!” the pouting old woman from earlier piped up as Zen rested her left elbow on her left knee and carefully cradled her cheek in her palm with a look of boredom.

    “Our duty, as Grand Masters, are to begin the lines that call for a beginning and stabilize them so a master may work on them without fear. We know the dangers.” Zen stated as many shivered at her cold tone. This was a prelude to disaster because Zen had a habit of going ice cold and annoyed before imposing whatever decision she was forced to make and that usually left the Council walking on eggshells around her. Her bouts of dictatorship also reminded them that, if they were not doing their job she would replace them as she seen fit and they were only allowed to convene on her insistence to break the tradition that had haunted any of the Grand Masters. On that note, the Council knew that the Abyss was a cruel mistress when it came to ignoring what they should be doing and to be thrown to them for any infraction was worse then a slow death by water torture. “To become a Grand Master one has to go through tests of strength and will, that is why there are so few of us. You forget what you are bound to do and uphold.”

    Several gasped at this statement and Zen rose from her cushion and stared down the glaring old woman. To accuse any one of them of forgetting their bound duty was a grave offense, if wrong, or a challenge and the entire Council knew that this challenge was not wrong. “We will break up and send word that a position has opened within our Council, Zen, as well as send word to the other two Grand Masters about what has been discussed here.” The teenage boy stated in a low tone as the others stood up and quietly left, leaving him to be the only other person in the chamber.

    “Thank you, Kir.” Zen stated as she then bent down and picked up the cloth and the numerous threads, the old woman she challenge was shaking in rage as she stayed seated on her cushion and glaring daggers at her back. “Glare all you want, you blind old hag, you brought this upon yourself.”

    “You impudent child!” the woman hissed out like a cat, baring her teeth as if to frighten the brunette, only to get a full out laugh that threw her off balance.

    “Impudent child, am I?” she laughed, pressing a hand to her stomach with her head thrown back, as the woman watched her like she had gone mad. “I am older then you and you should know that some are not what they seem. We live in a castle located in the Heart of the Abyss, the birthplace of everything that is known, and you think I am a child? That is insulting, yet amusing.” Zen started to pace as the old woman continued to watch her movements, especially the movements of the threads that were slowly inching down her dark blue robe like vines.

    “What will you do to me? Exile me? Kill me?” Zen paused and smiled at her, not in a good way either. If anything the smile could be described as disturbing and rather sadistic.

    “Nothing so merciful, you have been a thorn in my side for awhile now and do not think I am ignorant of your backstage dealings.” The Grand Master hissed out, this time the old woman did recoil and fell back off of the cushion, catching herself on her hands. “Nothing so easy… seeing you broke your creed then so shall you be broken. I will be nice, this once, and give you a chance to redeem yourself. If you fail this then whatever happens, happens.” Before the old woman could scramble to her feet and away, Zen snapped her fingers as an orange line slithered up to her hand and curled around her fingers.

    “You b***h!” the old woman screamed and lunged at her enemy, only to find that she was fading into nothingness with only the line in Zen’s hand being all that was left.

    “Do you suppose she will take the chance or screw it up?” a raspy voice asked as Zen glanced over her shoulder at the other female Grand Master, Whisper. Her knee length hair was literally silver, like her nails and the twelve hoops she wore in her slightly pointed ears, with eyes that were covered by black gauze and contrasted to her alabaster complexion, must like the black robe she wore. “Dragon has bowed out, this one is too complicated for him and he agreed to keep everyone in order.”

    “Another words he does not want to deal with the stress of this particular beginning.” Zen sarcastically stated as Whisper snickered.

    “Now, now. He is taking on the working of three sections.” Whisper scolded as Zen blushed a bit and looked at the orange strand in her hand. “Come on, Zen, best not let that thing get to big.” With that the silver haired young woman sauntered from the room with her friend following, looking rather defeated and resigned to her fate.

    To start a story, it required a Grand Master to set up a pure cloth and slowly weave the threads that came from the main thread throughout the pure cloth and eventually they would each blend together to form a tapestry. For two grand Masters to work on one piece meant that several things were happening at once and they would eventually combine and be bearable for a Master and their apprentice or apprentices to take over watch. This is the most crucial, the deadliest, and yet more time consuming part of their jobs.

    Both women sat in front of the white cloth that had been strung up in a Spartan decorated room with two cushions placed before it with three wicker boxes behind the cushions. “At least they were a**l about preparing.” Whisper muttered, but her tone had a hint of amusement mixed with pride. “Shall we find the three main players of the game and give that old woman her chance at redemption?” she asked with a smirk as she sat down on the right, arranging her dress around her and opening the nearest box.

    “Do we have a choice?” Zen wryly asked as she followed her friend’s led, only opening the box in the middle and moving it to sit between the cushions. The orange thread in her hand was laid on her left knee while the swatch of cloth was then laid between both of them. “Why don’t you go ahead and take the first tale, I have to figure out what to do with our darling fool here.” She added jerking a thumb in the direction of the innocent looking orange thread.

    “I want to anyways, this line looks interesting.” Whisper replied as she carefully picked up the strand and threaded her needle. As the first stitches were laid her companion picked up a slowly lengthening piece and examined it.

    “This one will be interesting as well, not everyday a boy does that much after going through so much loss.” She muttered and pulled out her own needle.