He carefully pulled some threads of dark gray fabric that stuck to the scrap of metal and handed them off to another of the weaver slaves, who set about making a set of clothes. The Chief Weaver remained precise and methodical, unruffled by his master’s impatience. The process cannot be hurried, Sire, said the Chief Weaver. How much longer? Ponéros spoke impatiently. The slaves brought their work to the Chief Weaver, who added the pieces to his creation, entwining them skillfully. Ponéros had demanded this.Īround the Chief Weaver, dozens of other weavers lurked, fashioning fingers, hands, arms, shoulders. The legs and feet were most important-they needed to be quick and strong. The beginnings of feet, the mere outline of legs. He watched the shape unfolding before him: a human form. On his massive throne sat Ponéros, ruler of Skot’os. The Weaver’s fingers were long and thin, clever fingers, twisting and forming the threads so quickly no human eye could follow. The Chief Weaver stood over the chalice, reaching in and pulling out slender threads of bright red. One drop, then another, slow and steady, into a large, crudely made iron chalice. Subject Heading: COURAGE WAR STORIES TRUSTīlood dripped from the edge of the blackened shard of metal. Unseen: The Prince Warriors 365 Devotional The Prince Warriors and the Swords of Rhema The Prince Warriors and the Unseen Invasion Part Two: The Pods Chapter 30: The Unleashing Part One: The Mountain Chapter 1: A Hole in the Water
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