The Flesh Weaver short story

Day 1

After a trip to the Sarn's library, I stumbled upon a couple of references to the “Nameless Manuscripts”, while I lurked in the most dark, forgotten recesses of the place. After hours of study, I wasn’t sure whether they were true or not. They were never referred in its essence, it was other rituals, summoning’s and spells that due to their bizarre, unholy nature were deemed worthy of said manuscripts.
Shifting towards a research about their location, or if they were even true, I only learned suggestion to where they might be, and none about their reality. It took me another week of research and another 5 of wandering, but I found a temple where I was absolutely sure to be their resting location, and then, by the nature of the place, I was firmly inclined to believe of their truth.
That the place could be forgotten by men, I could understand, 4 out of the 5 weeks of wandering, were finding passages to places which shouldn't exist, but it was as if Wraeclast itself had abandoned it. The soil was black, the few trees there were rotting, fallen to the ground. Living things avoided my hideout and its surroundings, and only the most hideous creatures lurked, but there, there were none, not even the sounds natural to the world.
The architecture of the ruins was one I’ve never seen before, but I believe it was precedent to the Vaal and, as soon as I crossed its halls, I felt as being watched, even in the absence of traces of life. How long I was there I am not certain, but at last I found them. The insidious dread I’ve felt disappeared with their sight. It was then, as I only had the manuscripts in my mind, I was attacked by a serpent. It bit my hand, but with a snap of my fingers it fell twisting on the ground and vanished in a cloud of black smoke. I can’t remember what happened next, if someone asked, I could only reply that had stages of unconsciousness and delirium, but somehow I left that ominous place. But I was definitely poisoned.
Due to constantly dabbling with foul, noxious substances in my work, I was fairly resistant to most poisons, and judging by the nature of the place and encounter itself, I think that even my sisters that underwent a certain ritual which allow them to inoculate all sorts of poisons, would come unscathed.
And that leads to now, how much time passed I can’t tell. I woke up this afternoon in a small house in the woods, my hostess, a women with which I shared a cell in the boat that brought us to wraeclast. She should be about my age, but I could see how this continent had aged her.
She explained that she had found me 5 days ago, unconscious, with signs of a profound fever, and that with what little knowledge she had of medicinal herbs, she could only hope for the best.
When I asked if she saw some papers with me, she told that she couldn’t read but did indeed saw them. They made her feel uneasy so she kept them hidden outside. After retrieving them, I noticed they were numerically ordered, by manuscript then by page. I didn’t study them today, for I am still feeble, and kept them hidden were they were.
I chatted a bit with my hostess, named Trevia. As she remembered me plainly, she couldn’t stop thanking me for my past deeds, news of falling corruption were quick to travel.
She met her now lover in Lioneyes’s watch, and after my clearing of certain obstacles, they were able to found some respite in this retired place by the woods. Little they knew I lived deeply, north into said woods. He was hunting, although he was “a bit later than usual”.



Day 2

I examined my wound today, skin appeared to be slowly rotting away by its smell and taste, and I knew that if I were able to keep my hand, I needed to get back to my place, I could work with a more extensive array of poultices, herbs and if needed even leeches. I decided to leave the next day and dwelt in the first of the manuscripts.
Their entirety consisted of notes and studies in anatomy. The first dozen of human and general fauna. The rest, in more aberrant constructs. They suggested, and very thoroughly described, with annotations as to why certain ligaments should be that way, of things able to jump over walls and houses, creatures that could outrun any prey, and other "inventions" with more devious intent.
My curiosity was so, that by now, I memorized some of the more "natural" concepts.



Day 7

I departed 4 days ago as planned, I should get to my hideout tomorrow by the eve. I should be there now but after finding an apparently fresh trail of blood, I took a different course, in the hopes I could try some new concepts of raising zombies. The manuscripts instructed in how to make them stop growling and shaking tremendously and even that, with slight alteration of the summoning ritual and a fresh enough corpse, no longer than a few minutes, the rotting of its body could be delayed greatly. My search provided, as i found a dying man on its final moments. I made no intent of hiding, so that the man plea for help was expected. Even the most cautious of hunters know that in wraeclast, the very same beast they try to kill can easily become the hunter.
He knew he was short of dying, so he asked me to deliver a ring of his to a women that lived in the outer woods, a women named Trevia, if I ever came to pass there. He died soon after, and without delay I raised him. My first thought was of success, the second of dread. I did indeed raise the man but, when I looked at his eyes, I felt like he was still alive. That expression of fear is not of the dead. Still, "it" obeyed every command. I ordered "it" to go hunt, "it" returned with a small monkey. Why the corpse was intact made me wonder, for it was the first time that an arm or a leg wasn't missing. I ordered "it" to feed, and the expression of fear turned to horror. I killed the thing about 2 hours later. I rather hear constant growls and moans of rotting cadavers, than a constant weep of a resemblance of a man. My experiment failed.
Once at my hideout I shall see what I did wrong.



Day 8

I'm back at the hideout.
Used some of my medicinal herbs to apply a plaster on my hand. It numbed the hitch, now I must wait for further results.
I did consult the manuscripts, concerning my failure. I did exactly as written. Perhaps side effects might occur. Perhaps practice will show different results.


Day 15

From incessant reading, to incessant weaving, and all I saw up until now was failure.
I crafted myself various forms of constructs, the anatomical studies are so detailed that I had no trouble assembling them. But to rear them proved to be another issue entirely. Even using my most powerful gems all I could manage was no more than make them convulse tremendously. My worst experiments blew up entirely.
I am forced to believe I didn't understood exactly what was written in the manuscripts. A common passage in many rituals is, "with the" Thing" before you...” at first I thought as referring to the corpse or construct, but now I’m inclined to believe it refers to some other object. The fact that I lost or left in the ruin a few pages of the manuscripts assures me of that.
As for my hand I lost hope of saving it. Poultices and herbs, do no more than attenuate the numbness I start to feel, and leeches die as soon they sucked my infected blood.
I will skip ahead on my studies, as there is a manuscript of a more "cirurgical" nature.


Day 16

I must get back to those ruins.
It seems that something as replacing your hand requires more than knowing how to assemble tissue, tendons, nerves and blood vessels. It requires the "Thing".
I made my decision and i must get the remaining pages.
Also, i could use some time away from the foul stench that comes from the increasingly humongous amounts of rotting flesh my failures provided.


Day 40

I am back at the hideout.
My quest was, once more successful. Although I had to take a different path, through other places that don’t appear in any map. I wondered if someone or something, intended to keep that abhorrent place secret.
The fact that I found the missing pages on the same altar I found the manuscripts, filled me caution. If they were there since my first visit, why weren’t they with rest? They were ordered and these pages should be in the middle.
I read them every night, trying to make sense of the words, but alas, whoever wrote them encrypted them.
During my journey, I visited Trevia. She kept thanking me through her tears for telling her of her lover’s fate. Little did she knew of his post mortem experience.


Day 87

I am nowhere near deciphering them.
My mind is obsessed with those damnable words. I go to sleep late into the night, and positioned my bed so that the first rays of light could wake me.
In the mornings I create more constructs, but still the best I can do is make them convulse.
I grew accustomed with smell by now.
And I had to alter my alimentation as well, the herbs and fruits which were edible are long gone and I dare not venture outside my hideout, for I have much to do. Good thing that my servants can hunt for me, so I adopted a more carnivorous diet.


Day 106

I think I found it. The solution for the cryptic pages.
Many other pages contained what I thought to be chants of praise to a dark god. The key lies in the verses.
At this point I don’t even waste time cooking my food. I am really close.


Day 157

I finally translated them. Read them time upon time. Again and again.
This is where I end my studies. I will not undergo this obscene ritual, this vile communion with the unholy.
Not because I care in any particular way, for the required sacrifices, but because they must undergo willingly. And the Thing will be consumed immediately after using it on any other rite.


Day 289

Was chance that made me find those ruins? Was chance that Trevia found me when I was bit? That she found my hideout 3 days ago?
It wasn't. The only thing that happened by chance was me reading about those abhorrent manuscripts. The event of 2 nights ago are proof of that.
3 days ago, I was peacefully weaving what I was certain to be another failure when I heard sounds in the vicinity.
To my surprise it was Trevia, although that skinny, beaten, mad pregnant women was not even close to what I remembered.
She told me that a few days after my departure, bandits came and took over her house. They beat her. They did things to her. Horrible things. In the end she managed to escape. She followed the foul smell in the hopes that some beast would feed on her. But her next words still echo in my head "Please kill me. And this... thing that is inside of me. I have nothing to offer for you to kill them, so killing me will suffice".
I had thoughts of refusal, but looking upon her I knew she would otherwise commit suicide.
And I asked "there is a ritual I never did, because of certain criteria. The willingness of a pregnant women to die. Would you willingly participate, and those bandit will die, one by one. And believe me I will make it so, that they ask for me to be quick." the women didn't even thought, and by her expression I knew that she would have given more if she could. I didn't even hoped in my wildest dreams for an opportunity like this.

I prepared all that was necessary, and begun the ritual. I don't know if I rather have her scream. The ritual should be painful, but she was so twisted with madness and hatred that she was laughing. This Wraeclast after all. The laughs ended as soon as the labour started, for that was the essence of the ritual, the communion of death with the moment of life. Any stage of conception would work as long as the child was no embryo. The foetus came out strangled in its umbilical cord as intended. I inserted my most powerful gem through its mouth. Then I reared it and waited for its only cry, I would fill a chalice with its blood and drink from it. But it didn't happened. I for a moment actually hoped that I had failed it. It did not fail however and the result was hideously more macabre.
Instead of a cry, I met a smile. I can still see its red eyes looking at me. And certainly its words I will never forget. It did speak, not through its mouth, but directly into my head. A deep cavernous voice.
"Do not fear. I wish you no harm. When you defeated the Beast, other things were freed once more. Some desire what was once theirs. Others, like me, desire other things. I will offer you a gift. It’s upon you to take it or not. I do not seek worship. I do not seek followers. But I admire your fervour. Your love for certain things. And alas you freed me when you killed the Beast. A gift is in order. Pass me the chalice if you are to accept it. "
Doubt. Fear. Wonder. All crossed my mind, and I didn't even noticed when I laid the chalice in front of that entity.
"This is my blood", it said as some black fluid poured from its fingers to the chalice, "Queens and kings killed and sacrificed for a taste of what I grant to you now. You shall drink it, and it will change you. A boon or curse. That is for you to decide". I drank of that dark substance, all of it.
"Now listen to me carefully as I will instruct you on how you will make certain items".
I listened and for the next two days, I crafted. From the umbilical cord I made a belt. From the foetus eyes I made a pair of rings. These 3 items combined, would have the sacrificial power of the Thing. But I could use them over and over.
From the placenta I made a flask. Any liquid I placed in there would have the effect I desired. A healing tonic or a deadly poison, it didn't matter.
From the mother I took her arm, and exchanged it with mine. I skinned her and made a coat.
I buried Trevia in my hideout. That thing that spoke to me melted away when it was finished.
And that leads to now.


Day 310

I am not entirely sure what crossed in the bandits mind when they saw me. They looked at me with fear even before I started "experimenting" on them. The first one I skinned alive, with the academic purpose of knowing how much mutilation its body could take before dying. The second I reserved for a more dubious invention of mine. And a way to test my new belongings.
The items I crafted are incredibly powerful. My last try at summoning constructs were failures. But now I managed to make a two headed creature! I would call it zombie but only the head I placed on a new body was dead. The result also proved to be extremely fascinating. The attached head would gnaw at its host. First his arms then anything it could bit.


Day 349
When I started my studies, I never thought I could do what I can, certainly, I hoped that failure was not my only achievement. But I surpassed all my expectations. My only limits now are the ones imposed by the world. Alas it is to be expected that after certain heights, the bones will naturally crush, or that at certain speed the tendons would tear.


Day 385

I started having problems eating, my new diet certainly took its toll on my teeth, and thus I replaced them with more apt ones.

Day 478

Catharina visited me today. We always talked about the most fascinating subjects, this time was no different. But I noticed that she was looking at me differently, it was no fear, but caution and certainly a glimpse of jealousy. Before she departed she said "I do not know what you did, nor do I care, but certainly you are closer, if not there already, to what I believe to be a true undead", to which I replied, "I wonder if the nightmare Malachai offered me was even close to what I witnessed. I killed many powerful foes, some really short of godhood. What I saw, I think it’s what they aspired to be." Catharina left only saying "I hope you don’t lose your way as they did, but looking at you I wonder who should be calling who of" Master"...".


Day???

I wonder how much time passed since I began studying those papers. I lost interest in keeping track of time. All the people I knew during my journeys have been long dead. Alas I can't remember leaving my hideout except when using the map device Zana so gently provided me. That strange man, Sin was it name I believe, told me I should never leave it. I did so not for his warning, but after seeing my body obeying my every command while my head laid severed in the ground, I understood the true import of the words "...it will change you. A boon or curse. That is for you to decide". After successfully sewing it back, I pondered on the last statement, and never for a moment had I thought of it as a curse. When Izaro granted me access to the altar of ascendancy, I chose the power most suitable for my interests. The gift that unnameable thing granted me, changed my interest into love. And thus I shall never leave this place. I have all I need here. All I need to harvest, assemble and weave...