Asteria had completely forgotten about the strange, egg-like cocoon embedded in the shifting waters of her soul sea.
That was until the silk began to unravel, the threads parting with a sound like tearing parchment.
"Nothing ever goes to plan when it comes to you, child."
The harrowing voice of a thousand prayers whispered into her ear. Asteria jumped, spinning around to find the nebulous figure standing beside her. "My gift was supposed to open when you awakened, not... after you ascended instead." The figure sighed – though she could not be sure of the emotion behind that lacquered mask.
"You – what even are you? You show up in my soul, bless me, and then hand out gifts'like it's nobody's business!" Asteria huffed, waving her arms at the opening structure. "What do you want from me, truly..." She trailed off, hoping to goad a name out of the silence.
"I am nothing more than someone who succeeded at their life's work and died in the process," the being said calmly. They raised their arms delicately, fingers brushing the edges of the mask until it began to lift. "Do you see, child? What is missing from this face?"
Asteria stared. The being had no face. Where features should have been, there was only an endless darkness that seemed to absorb the very light of the soul sea, leaving nothing but a faint, haunting silhouette.
"...Not to be rude," she began, her voice wavering, "but it's... empty and slightly uneven?"
"You are correct. Why don't you... open the gift I left for you? Perhaps it will explain things better."
Asteria waded through the childish, iridescent waves until she reached the gift. Up close, it was far larger than she had realized, towering nearly double her height. She dug her fingers into the fine silk, peeling it away like a Christmas morning she had never been allowed to have.
Deep within the massive structure sat a tiny, dagger-like object. The contrast between the size of the cocoon and the item within was jarring.
"What is it?"
"One of my fangs," the figure replied, a warm cacophony of tones entering Asteria's mortal ears. "A piece of my own divine body. It may help, in some ways... or none at all."
"...So you're just going to give me a body part of a god? Alright, what's the catch? What do you want?"
"For my wish to come true."
Not wanting to pry any longer into the cryptic whims of the divine, Asteria held out her hand.
[You have received a memory: Fang of Weaver]
"Weaver..." she mumbled, the name of the nebulous and cunning figure finally clicking into place.
"That is what they call me, yes. What is it, child?"
'I don't want anything else, but I'll certainly take a freebie,' Asteria thought. She turned her attention to her runes, finding the new entry shimmering in the light.
Memory: [Fang of Weaver]
Memory Rank: Divine
Memory Tier: VII
Memory Type: Consumable
Memory Description: ["Nobody knew where Weaver was nor what Weaver did until it was too late. Nobody knew what Weaver looked like either; as she was hidden beneath a mantle of lies.
However, Weaver found a sullen Queen and pitied her.
Blessed by her machine, she took one of her own fangs from beneath her lacquered mask and presented it as a gift within the Queen's soul.]
[Do you wish to consume the 'Fang of Weaver'?]
Asteria turned back to the figure – to Weaver – and voiced the obvious. "You want me to consume one of your fangs? That's weird, dude..." She sighed, not truly expecting a straight answer, and unhurriedly addressed the Spell. "Yes."
The moment permission left her lips, a piercing agony erupted in her chest. It wasn't physical; it was a strike aimed directly at her soul, her cores, and her very being.
'Painful! It hurts! Damnation, what did this Weaver get me into now?!' She grit her teeth, clenching her jaw so hard she felt the enamel crack.
The torment was brief, but it left her gasping. Where the cocoon had once stood, a pillar of absolute darkness now pierced the center of her iridescent sea. It looked dangerously out of place, a void that made her shudder just by looking at it.
Then, the Spell's voice whispered in her ear – only this time, the tone was a perfect echo of the daemon standing beside her.
[You have gained an attribute.]
Curious and still aching, she summoned her runes once more.
Attribute: [Fang of Weaver]
Attribute Description: ["Weaver, the Daemon of Fate, was a nebulous character.
Upon the creation of her Spell, she wept within the realm of shadow, a blade torn through her chest by a slayer fated to kill the daemon.
She wept blooded tears of golden ichor through her mask, creating a river of gold within the darkest shadows of the realm.
However, she did not weep from the wound, nor did she weep because her life was ending. She wept because of the future she saw.
With one of her fangs missing and an arm replaced by porcelain, the first emotion she felt since creation was hope.
A bitter hope, and a fitting emotion coming from the Master of Lies and the Daemon of Deception.
The Daemon of Fate's fang will pierce your soul, protecting it from prying eyes and the cruel golden tapestry above.
Your armoury will be repaired even upon shattering, much like how the Daemons could never be held by Shadow."]
"I hope this will help when you need it," Weaver said after watching Asteria's stunned expression for a few minutes. "You did what my Spell was intended for – you changed fate. You are proof it can be done." A heavy, exhausted sigh escaped the darkness behind the mask. "Thank you."
"Uh, I just wanted to survive. I didn't exactly have an agenda..." Asteria muttered, feeling a strange embarrassment at receiving praise from a literal god.
"Precisely, oh blessed of my Spell. That is why I shall leave you with a parting gift – until we meet again."
Before Asteria could blink, Weaver was standing directly in front of her. The daemon stretched out her hands, golden lines of essence trailing from her fingertips.
[You have received an Aspect Legacy: Seeker of Truths]