18: The Tales We Weave

CORDELIA

Nelo led me to the third floor of the estate. The room held far too much for its size. It was chocked full of bundles of glowing fibers and looms. Those projects on the looms were all in various states of completeness. Shuttles, needles, and every kind of weaving implement you could imagine worked magically, floating without a corporal overseer. Nelo placed me on a stool at a large wooden drafting table. She sat at the head of the table, near a loom already hard at work, weaving golden threads into an elaborate tapestry of dancing fauns. She had been quiet on the way up but took a deep breath now, readying herself to move past our previous encounter in the rose garden.

“So, I suppose if you’re going to be a court subject now, I can show you how we do things in Summer.” She swiveled the stool and grabbed a few bundles of glowing golden yarns. “These are the filaments- what I can weave magic from. There are other types of magic in Aidor, but this is my specialty. You can get filaments from many places. They can be harvested from certain plants at different times like you saw me doing when you arrived. They can come from places that hold onto feelings,” She looked towards me, “Or things can be given, sacrificed.” Her voice cracked slightly. “Those are the strongest kinds of magic when you sacrifice something of yourself.” She tapped the loom, “There are two ways to weave magic. For the lesser spells, wards, and protections for the estate like I’m weaving now. These are harvested filaments, the sheer number of fibers together creating the stronger magic. Harvested fibers are also visible. So when this tapestry is done, you’ll have to hang it in where you’d like the magic to work.” She held her hand in a halting motion, the shuttle almost empty, and replaced the filament. She motioned for the shuttle to resume its work and spoke again. “Cloaks, like the protection Orthus gave you, like the one you arrived herewith, are hidden from view unless damaged. A good weaver can pick up on their presence but often can’t discern specifics of what kind of cloak” She put her elbows on the table and leaned towards me. “The cloak Orthus gave you, the weight of the sacrifice, is powerful. I can sense it.” She gestured vaguely around my body with her hands. “If Vas hadn’t told me what Orthus did, I wouldn’t be able to pinpoint it. Don’t be surprised if other weavers can sense something strange when you’re around. I would keep this act of protection to yourself—your bond is a weakness for the both of you. It could be easily exploited.” I looked towards the tapestry, wanting to change the subject, knowing she was still annoyed at the bargain.

“Wait—I thought I was safe in Summer. Who would exploit the bond we have?” Maybe Vasileios could find some way to use it to his advantage, but I hadn’t met anyone cruel except him since my arrival here—On second thought, the pixies weren’t that great either.

“Well, for starters, we have two other courts joining us for the winter solstice. Spring and Autumn are technically our allies, but they would love a leg up on our king. So do us all a favor and speak of your bond to no one.” She pulled her lips into a thin line before patting her thighs and moving to a packed shelf behind her. Nelo pulled several filament bundles from those shelves, stacked at precarious angles. I was surprised when the whole shelf’s contents didn’t tumble to the ground.

She pointed at the first bundle.

“The colors matter. You can will the filament into a different color for the final piece, but the color of the raw stock has meaning.” She said, pointing to the first blue ball. “Blue is for friendship, and I’d like to think it’d be the color between any bargain we might make.” She said, winking. I could feel her wanting to ease some of the tension that Orthus and I had created.  “Black is for ill intent and curses. We use it sparingly—Only when truly necessary. With all dark magic, you get a portion of it splashed back on the spell’s caster.” She moved on to the green bundle, “Green, prosperity, technically maybe more so fertility.” I looked towards the bundle. I don’t think I had ever thought about children before. At least I don’t remember doing so. I don’t think I’d want to be someone’s mother, and I felt that somewhere in the dark places of my mind. The places I assumed where my memories of my life before had been given to the bargain.

“Remind me not touch that one then.” I joked. She laughed but cocked an eyebrow.

“No children for you then, Cordelia?” I rocked my head back and forth to say I was unsure.

“I’m not sure ever, but certainly not now. I’m not big on commitments.” I thought of Orthus. These feelings are false. I reminded myself not that it helped much. They didn’t feel false when he stroked my cheek. We don’t need to act on it. The king had said as he brought his lips close to mine. Fuck Vasileios. I don’t know what sick pleasure he was deriving from always being the wedge between Orthus and me. I was safe with the King, and he had bonded our fates. I don’t know how much safer I could be in a place like this.

“Fair enough, it’s harder for the fae to conceive. Sometimes we weave sheets in this fiber as a wedding present.” I eyed her suspiciously.

“I hope not mine,” I said. She laughed and shook her head no, tight curls bouncing as she did.

“No, promise I won’t try and get you knocked up.” I smiled as she laughed with her whole chest. “I didn’t know anyone had caught your eye,” She said, waggling her index finger towards me. The realization quickly hit that she did actually know who I might have fancied. Everyone who knew about the bond would know… She looked towards me again, rapidly digressing. “Red filaments are for love. You can also use love for protection- it’s one of the strongest bonds. Your first protection cloak was red. Someone loved you very much.” My heart felt a pang, even if I didn’t have the memories to back that feeling up.

“You don’t have any red bundles?” I asked, noticing the color’s absence in the room.

“No- you can’t harvest love for use later. It can only be given freely. It requires great conditions to cloak someone, though. There was likely a great sacrifice to protect you like that. I guess that the stitch broke when you slipped the veil. That was the sacrifice that allowed you to travel here.” She turned away from me and set to work on checking the looms. “That’s why it’s so hard to bring you back to your world- the costs are usually too great.” Her scarred fingers plucked at a snag in a tapestry being woven on a selkie sitting on the shore.

“I’m sorry Circe was killed.” I didn’t know how she was able to be so caring still. If someone had been taken from me, I don’t think I’d ever recover. She lowered her brow and spoke softly.

“No, she offered herself up as the sacrifice. She did it for her Lady.” Nelo steeled her face and continued,  “We needed to cross the veil to end the war, and she knew it was the only way. So she volunteered- volunteered to end the war. Circe was truly selfless. I know she loved me. I know it in every fiber of my being. We were mates. But she loved.. all of us all more, though, enough to trade her life to lift the veil between our two worlds. Vas tried to stop her, I begged Orthus to deny her, but we all knew that it was the only way. The war did end, and her life made that happen. She’s the reason we’re all able to be a family again. How we could send her, the human Orthus loved, through the veil to end it.” She spoke almost in a whisper now. I couldn’t control my body as it was propelled towards her. I wrapped my arms around her as she cried softly into my shoulder.

“You sent the human to the mortal realm? How could that have ended a war?” I knew I should wait, but my mind was nearly empty. I needed to know everything. I needed to know that Orthus wasn’t a bad person, that he did what he did out of duty, no matter how it hurt.

“She-“ Nelo’s mouth seized like she could not say the human woman’s name, Orthus spellbinding it from her lips. “The human, she was set to be breeding stock for the Winter King. He was obsessed with creating the most powerful dynasty in Aidor’s history. He treats his offspring like experiments, their mothers all-powerful in different magical disciplines. Orthus’s human was a human weaver, stronger than me. Circe brought her to us, and I swear Orthus fell in love at first sight. He sent her to the human realm, her cloak including a spell to make her immune to the time shift. The Winter King had bound himself to her after her family sold her to him. He would be able to feel her presence in this realm, wherever she might be. Once she slipped the veil, we told him she was dead. Our courts came to a cease-fire agreement after that. The Winter king died not long after- many assume by poisoning from one of his many heirs. His successor did not want to take up the mantle of war but is keeping his court removed from ours. He thinks we caused the war by taking the human and won’t forgive us.” She looks back at me. “Winter suffered too, under their vengeful king. Living through a war like that makes us all a bit colder.” Even as she spoke, I couldn’t imagine what she had been like before the war. If this was a cold and broken fae before me, I don’t think I could imagine her being kinder than she is now.  Nelo continued, “hence Winter not attending the winter solstice ball- nor inviting summer or our allies.” She lifted her head from me. Stroking the wrinkles out of the apron she wore and went back to her tasks with a sigh.

“So, humans can weave then? Or was she special?” I needed to know what qualities this woman held to enchant Orthus’s heart. I—I was jealous? Fuck, that feeling, I don’t actually love him. This was only a side effect, not the truth of my own heart.

“She had been blessed with weaving capabilities we’d never seen before- they’re usually passed down family lines. Humans can sometimes hold little magic, but this was beyond even most fae.” She tugged a loose filament from the tapestry before her.  “His thinking was that if a mere human possessed talent like that, they could do wonders for his already gifted fae one. He was a cruel leader—Aidor is better now without him, regardless of whether Winter sequesters itself away from the rest of us now. Even though it’s without Circe, this peace may be worth it.” I hugged her frame harder.

“You are my friend, Nelo,” I told the fae female. “I know Circe would want you to enjoy this peace, this freedom. True love, you’ll give anything for it easily.” My heart had that same pang, but my mind was clear from any association. I wondered if I had known love before Orthus gave me this protection. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything Cordelia.”

“You said Circe was your mate, so were you two married?” I tried not to ask too awkwardly. I didn’t know how you declared your love for your partner here, how they fae might let their love be known openly. It might be helpful information one day to have. A shuttle fell from its magic orbit, clattering to the floor and breaking some of the tension and sadness that hung thick in the air. Nelo turned and picked it back up, wrapping more of the golden protection filament onto its length. With a flick of her wrist, it resumed its course through the halfway finished tapestry. I spied her fingers again, the deep scars marring them still.

“It means… It means we were destined to find each other. That there is no one more perfect for us in the entire realm. I didn’t know at first, that we were mates, but Circe knew. She told me she knew from the second she saw me. That she would do everything in her power to protect me.” Nelo leaned and picked up the shuttle from the floor. “Sometimes, I think that’s why she left me, and she couldn’t bear the thought of being here without me. She told me all the time that I was stronger than she was. Goddess did she ever love to prove her point.” My friend spoke with her back towards me, setting the shuttle on the table with her beautiful but damaged hands.

“How did you get the scars? Is it from the weaving?” I asked, changing the subject again, trying to spare my friend’s pain.

“It’s from weaving,” She inspected her fingers. “The scars come from stronger spells- love and…ill intent. Cloaks too are more difficult on the body. The stronger your gift, though, the less the filaments can injure you.” She held her hand up towards me. From the middle knuckle of each finger to its tip, the scars ran deep and twisting. “Weaving did not come naturally to me, and I was not as gifted as—As that human was—I paid the price for the strong magic, trying to hold our court together during the war. They don’t hurt much anymore, but I try and keep to basic protection work now. Try to keep these from getting too much worse.” I brought her hand back into mine.

“Maybe you can show me the ins and outs one day- what’s the easiest thing to weave?” I asked her with a wink.

“Ha! Cordelia, just because one human has been a great weaver doesn’t necessarily mean you should attempt it!” She laughed, and I decided to keep my little magic a secret for now.  “Let’s get you a bit more used to life in Aidor. It’s not common that humans possess any magic,“ She paused and looked at me with a smirk, “but not many women are magicked here already cloaked. Maybe you’ll surprise us?” She grabbed the basket she had worn on her back when I first saw her- my first memory. Inside golden filaments were loosely piled, what she harvested from those flowers on the hill. “What you can help me with is bundling these up so I can store them.” She grabbed a handful, placing the glowing threads onto the table. She pulled each strand apart, each no longer than her arm, and laid a few ends to end. “If you roll the two ends together,” She placed her hand on the ends of two strands, then pressed and rolled together as if she was making pasta. “They fuse pretty easily- just roll them into a ball as you go- consider this step one in learning to weave.” I looked at the basket, packed to the brim with her harvest.

“Are you sure this just isn’t the busy work you don’t want to do?” I inclined an eyebrow to her.

“Who says it can’t be both?” She laughed. It was nice to hear her do so after seeing the pain in her face when she spoke of Circe. I wondered how bad a war might be for me to offer my own life to end it—If I could be that strong? I got to work, rolling the filaments and wrapping them into a ball. They were gold, like the threads Orthus had woven around me. Not nearly as bright in the luminescence, but I thought of his face all the same. I thought of his face almost every second my mind wandered.

What had my life been before? I could remember who I was, but not how I had become that person. I knew the name I had given, Cordelia Oscuro was a half-truth, but I couldn’t place my true surname, nor where I found the false one. I looked over towards a shelf in the corner of the workshop and read the spines of the tomes. “Practicalities in harvesting filaments, Tension in Tapestry….” Even without my memories, it seemed I could still read- even if I couldn’t remember my lessons. Orthus had said that I would know things but not understand from where. I’m glad I still felt like me. At least, I thought I did? Someone cleared their throat in the doorway. I turned to see a frowning Vas with arms crossed over his golden breastplate, the sun sigil beneath his muscular forearms.

“Lady Oscuro, The king requests your presence.” His tone was so different than at dinner. The once cocky, if annyoing, king’s brother was now impossible to read. His expression was completely neutral. I looked towards Nelo. She nodded and motioned for me to go.

“He’s your king now as well, Cordelia. When he calls, we answer.” She turned her back and continued her work. I rose and walked toward Vas; he shot a look up and down my body, face still unreadable. He turned on his heel when I reached the doorway and barked at me.

“Follow me.”