Location: Dathomir - Weavewood
The witch woke Ace shortly after sunrise. Apparently, yesterday's lesson had given her an idea.
Long before Vethrisa claimed the Weavewood, others had practiced beneath it. The oldest stories spoke of chambers belonging to the "Weavers" from whom Vethrisa later claimed descent, but whatever remained below had become increasingly difficult to reach as the forest changed. Paths shifted and passages returned people to where they'd started. Some just disappeared. Vethrisa had searched for the chambers too, but never reached them.
"So why are we trying?"
The witch looked at him. "Because yesterday you found what mattered before you understood why."
Ace stared at her. "Are you going to always be this cryptic?"
She explained that several old accounts agreed on one thing. Something remained beneath the Weavewood, connected strongly enough to the surrounding Weave that witches had sensed its presence for generations. They could feel that something was there but couldn't find the path connecting them to it.
"You want me to look."
"I want you to learn."
So, several hours later, Ace was underground. The tunnels beneath the Weavewood seemed incapable of remaining where they belonged. Corridors doubled back toward places they shouldn't have reached, while others ended at walls Tic insisted hadn't been there minutes earlier.
Ace stopped relying on direction. Instead, he opened himself to the Threads. A lot of it became noise, which he ignored. One kept returning though. Whenever the tunnels divided, Ace searched for that same sense of disproportionate significance he'd learned to recognize the day before. Sometimes it disappeared entirely and forced them backward. Other times it seemed to lead directly through solid rock until another passage revealed itself somewhere nearby.
He had no idea what was on the other side. The passage opened into a circular chamber.
Ace frowned. "That's it?"
There was nothing inside. No altar or relic waiting conveniently in the middle. Only roots breaking through ancient stone and fragments of carvings worn almost smooth. Tic hopped from his shoulder and began scanning while Ace wandered toward the nearest wall.
Ace wandered toward the nearest wall and brushed his fingers across the ancient stone. The chamber vanished and a scream tore through his senses. For an instant, Ace was somewhere else. Women surrounded him where empty stone had been moments before, their voices overlapping in words he couldn't understand. Green fire burned between their hands while something black twisted above them, constantly threatening to dissolve before invisible forces dragged it back into shape.
Then the impression broke and the empty chamber snapped back into place. He wasn't touching that again.
Ace continued following the Thread toward a formation of stone and root along the chamber's edge. Embedded inside was something black, barely larger than the first joint of his thumb.
He dug it free. The object resembled polished volcanic glass crossed strangely with bone. Tic scanned it and offered nothing useful. Behind him, the witch examined the inscriptions.
"Knot." She eventually said. Ace joined her. One sequence appeared repeatedly beside carvings of interlocking lines. "Give the knot a thread." She translated.
Ace looked between the inscription and the object.
"Blood?"
"Perhaps."
Ace stared at the Knot in his only hand for a moment before holding it toward her. The witch glanced briefly at his empty sleeve before taking it from him. From somewhere within her robes, she produced a small blade. She took his right hand before he could reconsider and drew the blade lightly across his thumb. Ace grimaced.
The witch handed the Knot back and Ace pressed his bleeding thumb against its surface. One fracture illuminated green, then connected to another. Ace reached through the Force to follow it.
Suddenly pain exploded through his missing hand and a grunt escaped him. Not his stump... his hand. Every nerve suddenly insisted that fingers which hadn't existed for years were clenched into a fist.
"What--?"
The Knot slipped from his grasp, but it never reached the floor. It hung beside his left forearm and then liquefied. Black strands crawled across his residual limb. Ace grabbed at them immediately, tearing several away before they dissolved between his fingers and reformed.
Then he felt his wrist. Ace froze as green threads extended into empty space. Black strands followed them, crossing and tightening around a shape that wasn't there. A wrist formed. Then a palm. Knuckles. The material flattened into something solid, its dark surface splitting around thin lines of green light. Bronze structures emerged around the forearm, locking into place like physical knots. Finally, five fingers extended.
Ace stared, mouth slightly agape. His index finger twitched, then slowly, he thought about closing his hand. The fingers curled. There was no interface translating the command. Nothing between intention and movement.
Ace crouched and touched the stone floor. He felt cold and every uneven groove beneath his fingertips. For a long time, he said nothing. Then Ace lifted his hand and flexed five fingers that shouldn't exist.
Long before Vethrisa claimed the Weavewood, others had practiced beneath it. The oldest stories spoke of chambers belonging to the "Weavers" from whom Vethrisa later claimed descent, but whatever remained below had become increasingly difficult to reach as the forest changed. Paths shifted and passages returned people to where they'd started. Some just disappeared. Vethrisa had searched for the chambers too, but never reached them.
"So why are we trying?"
The witch looked at him. "Because yesterday you found what mattered before you understood why."
Ace stared at her. "Are you going to always be this cryptic?"
She explained that several old accounts agreed on one thing. Something remained beneath the Weavewood, connected strongly enough to the surrounding Weave that witches had sensed its presence for generations. They could feel that something was there but couldn't find the path connecting them to it.
"You want me to look."
"I want you to learn."
So, several hours later, Ace was underground. The tunnels beneath the Weavewood seemed incapable of remaining where they belonged. Corridors doubled back toward places they shouldn't have reached, while others ended at walls Tic insisted hadn't been there minutes earlier.
Ace stopped relying on direction. Instead, he opened himself to the Threads. A lot of it became noise, which he ignored. One kept returning though. Whenever the tunnels divided, Ace searched for that same sense of disproportionate significance he'd learned to recognize the day before. Sometimes it disappeared entirely and forced them backward. Other times it seemed to lead directly through solid rock until another passage revealed itself somewhere nearby.
He had no idea what was on the other side. The passage opened into a circular chamber.
Ace frowned. "That's it?"
There was nothing inside. No altar or relic waiting conveniently in the middle. Only roots breaking through ancient stone and fragments of carvings worn almost smooth. Tic hopped from his shoulder and began scanning while Ace wandered toward the nearest wall.
Ace wandered toward the nearest wall and brushed his fingers across the ancient stone. The chamber vanished and a scream tore through his senses. For an instant, Ace was somewhere else. Women surrounded him where empty stone had been moments before, their voices overlapping in words he couldn't understand. Green fire burned between their hands while something black twisted above them, constantly threatening to dissolve before invisible forces dragged it back into shape.
Then the impression broke and the empty chamber snapped back into place. He wasn't touching that again.
Ace continued following the Thread toward a formation of stone and root along the chamber's edge. Embedded inside was something black, barely larger than the first joint of his thumb.
He dug it free. The object resembled polished volcanic glass crossed strangely with bone. Tic scanned it and offered nothing useful. Behind him, the witch examined the inscriptions.
"Knot." She eventually said. Ace joined her. One sequence appeared repeatedly beside carvings of interlocking lines. "Give the knot a thread." She translated.
Ace looked between the inscription and the object.
"Blood?"
"Perhaps."
Ace stared at the Knot in his only hand for a moment before holding it toward her. The witch glanced briefly at his empty sleeve before taking it from him. From somewhere within her robes, she produced a small blade. She took his right hand before he could reconsider and drew the blade lightly across his thumb. Ace grimaced.
The witch handed the Knot back and Ace pressed his bleeding thumb against its surface. One fracture illuminated green, then connected to another. Ace reached through the Force to follow it.
Suddenly pain exploded through his missing hand and a grunt escaped him. Not his stump... his hand. Every nerve suddenly insisted that fingers which hadn't existed for years were clenched into a fist.
"What--?"
The Knot slipped from his grasp, but it never reached the floor. It hung beside his left forearm and then liquefied. Black strands crawled across his residual limb. Ace grabbed at them immediately, tearing several away before they dissolved between his fingers and reformed.
Then he felt his wrist. Ace froze as green threads extended into empty space. Black strands followed them, crossing and tightening around a shape that wasn't there. A wrist formed. Then a palm. Knuckles. The material flattened into something solid, its dark surface splitting around thin lines of green light. Bronze structures emerged around the forearm, locking into place like physical knots. Finally, five fingers extended.
Ace stared, mouth slightly agape. His index finger twitched, then slowly, he thought about closing his hand. The fingers curled. There was no interface translating the command. Nothing between intention and movement.
Ace crouched and touched the stone floor. He felt cold and every uneven groove beneath his fingertips. For a long time, he said nothing. Then Ace lifted his hand and flexed five fingers that shouldn't exist.
