Shadow Slave

"Ananke greets the Children of Weaver..."

The word hung in the air. Sunny and Nephis glanced at each other warily, both confused by this strange situation. Why was the old woman prostrating in front of them? Why had she addressed them as children of Weaver?

'What is going on?'

Sunny was tired out of his mind, and the inexplicable nature of the strange old woman was simply too much for him to process. She didn't seem hostile, at least. With a sigh, he allowed his exhausted body to collapse and sat down on the wooden deck of the ketch. Nephis, meanwhile, hesitated for a few moments, then took several steps forward and carefully pulled the old woman up.

"Please rise, Grandmother. Do not bow on our account."

The owner of the ketch - Ananke - allowed herself to be gently pulled into a sitting position. Then, Nephis returned to Sunny and sat side by side with him. The two of them were now facing the old woman, waiting for her to say something. But she remained silent.

After a few moments passed, Sunny frowned. He felt nervous... there was no telling just how powerful this woman was, and what her intentions were. Ananke was a complete mystery.

...She could also provide answers to many mysteries that had plagued him. So, he asked:

"I am sorry, Grandmother... but why did you call us the Children of Weaver?"

There were many questions he wanted to ask, but this one was the most pressing - its answer could explain how Old Ananke would treat them.

The old woman took a deep sigh, then spoke in her thin, creaky voice:

"Because you are the Chosen of the Nightmare Spell. You are... a miracle. Your existence is Weaver's triumph."

lips. It was warm and almost... motherly. As though she was indeed a

a deep

that the Nightmare Spell had been created by the Demon of Fate. Now, the last, tiny sliver of doubt had disappeared. Weaver was indeed the being responsible for the

had wanted to

come to the Great River

not making

thoughts, Nephis leaned forward and

asking, but

she said next made both Sunny and

The Priestess

silence that followed, the old woman gently

At the beginning, which was also the end, when the Nightmare Spell was still in its infancy, there was a need for people like me to tend

face grew somber, and a heavy sigh escaped from

servants of the gods. All were despised, many

them that Sunny found himself unable to digest it all. He felt like a person

of the Nightmare Spell... the beginning that was also the end? Must be the early stages of the war between the daemons and the gods... wait, the Spell was not created as it is

up, tired as he was. Nephis was struggling, too, but it seemed as though she had a slightly better grasp of the conversation. White sparks ignited in

of the followers of Weaver was not meaningless? That the Nightmare Spell

and looked at them with reverence, which made both

very wise, my

for a few moments,

be surprised by the fact that we come from

that he had failed