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[[File:LoreAchilles.png|300px| | [[File:LoreAchilles.png|300px|thumb]] | ||
'''Achilles Weaves a Cocoon''' is a [[Lore]] book introduced in ''[[Season of the Splicer]]'', with entries acquired by completing seasonal [[Triumphs]]. | '''Achilles Weaves a Cocoon''' is a [[Lore]] book introduced in ''[[Season of the Splicer]]'', with entries acquired by completing seasonal [[Triumphs]] from that season. It follows [[Namrask]], an Eliksni trying to shed his violent past by becoming a weaver and the experiences he went through. | ||
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==I: Eggcloth== | ==I: Eggcloth== | ||
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"Tall friend," one of the Winterdrekhs says soberly. "No one your size is a weaver. Why not volunteer to fight for Eramis?" | "Tall friend," one of the Winterdrekhs says soberly. "No one your size is a weaver. Why not volunteer to fight for Eramis?" | ||
Namrask shudders. He cannot fight. Not after what he saw in the [[Reef]]—that [[Fikrul, the Fanatic|THING]] with its staff. Not after [[SIVA]], [[Twilight Gap]], [[London]]. [[Kridis, Dark Priestess|Kridis]] promised that this was salvation. | Namrask shudders. He cannot fight. Not after what he saw in the [[Reef]]—that [[Fikrul, the Fanatic|THING]] with its [[Fanatic's Staff|staff]]. Not after [[SIVA]], [[Twilight Gap]], [[London]]. [[Kridis, Dark Priestess|Kridis]] promised that this was salvation. | ||
"Bring me broken eggs," Namrask begs, "and I will make eggcloth. How will the hatchlings be swaddled if no one weaves the eggcloth for them?" | "Bring me broken eggs," Namrask begs, "and I will make eggcloth. How will the hatchlings be swaddled if no one weaves the eggcloth for them?" | ||
The Drekhs watch as he uses his teeth to separate the eggshell from the thin, fibrous membrane beneath. He tears it into long fibers and fastens them to his loom as the warp—the threads that run top to bottom. With two hands, he holds the loom in his lap. Carefully, he chisels open the warp with a third hand; moving too quickly will snap the eggthread. | The [[Dreg|Drekhs]] watch as he uses his teeth to separate the eggshell from the thin, fibrous membrane beneath. He tears it into long fibers and fastens them to his loom as the warp—the threads that run top to bottom. With two hands, he holds the loom in his lap. Carefully, he chisels open the warp with a third hand; moving too quickly will snap the eggthread. | ||
His life depends on this. His fourth hand swiftly passes the shuttle through the warp, drawing the first weft across. The thread does not snap; he has woven. | His life depends on this. His fourth hand swiftly passes the shuttle through the warp, drawing the first weft across. The thread does not snap; he has woven. | ||
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They sit and watch. Their lower arms, half-grown after docking, mimic his motions. Their names are [[Eoriks]], [[Oeriks]], and [[Yriks]]: brother, brother, and sister. | They sit and watch. Their lower arms, half-grown after docking, mimic his motions. Their names are [[Eoriks]], [[Oeriks]], and [[Yriks]]: brother, brother, and sister. | ||
When it is done, he gives them the little scrap of eggcloth. They murmur in wonder and rub their cheeks against it. "Bring that to the camp Captain," he tells them. "Tell them that Namrask can weave if he is fed and given fiber." | When it is done, he gives them the little scrap of eggcloth. They murmur in wonder and rub their cheeks against it. "Bring that to the camp [[Captain]]," he tells them. "Tell them that Namrask can weave if he is fed and given fiber." | ||
It is the first time he has ever made anything without ruining it on the loom. | It is the first time he has ever made anything without ruining it on the loom. | ||
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"You." | "You." | ||
Namrask looks up, carefully. Phylaks's shock pistol is pressed to his brow. She puts the weapon down between them, a sign of truce, and makes the ireliis bow of respect. "You have the size of an old fighter. Why not come forward?" | Namrask looks up, carefully. Phylaks's [[Shock Pistol|shock pistol]] is pressed to his brow. She puts the weapon down between them, a sign of truce, and makes the ireliis bow of respect. "You have the size of an old fighter. Why not come forward?" | ||
He is afraid his voice will fail. It comes out strong, but like another's voice: "I saw what happened the last time Eliksni reached for new power. And the time before that, and the time before that. I will not be part of it." | He is afraid his voice will fail. It comes out strong, but like another's voice: "I saw what happened the last time Eliksni reached for new power. And the time before that, and the time before that. I will not be part of it." | ||
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Phylaks is dead; [[Praksis, the Technocrat|Praksis]] too. | Phylaks is dead; [[Praksis, the Technocrat|Praksis]] too. | ||
The Priestess Kridis is dead—Sniksis and Piksis with her—and the [[Prime Servitor]] is destroyed. | The Priestess Kridis is dead—Sniksis and Piksis with her—and the [[Yamiks Prime, House Salvation|Prime Servitor]] is destroyed. | ||
Eramis is dead, consumed by her own power. One of the old Riis-born. Never will there be another. | Eramis is dead, consumed by her own power. One of the old Riis-born. Never will there be another. | ||
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Namrask knew it would end this way. He has seen this every time. His fallen people have learned defeat so well that now they defeat themselves. He rages and claws at the ice. | Namrask knew it would end this way. He has seen this every time. His fallen people have learned defeat so well that now they defeat themselves. He rages and claws at the ice. | ||
For his band of stranded survivors, he fashions shelters of watercloth: synthetic skin with thick bladders pumped full of ice to block some of the radiation. When his wound pains him, he numbs it on the ice. Turrha sees him but says nothing. He is grateful. | For his band of stranded survivors, he fashions shelters of watercloth: synthetic skin with thick bladders pumped full of ice to block some of the radiation. When his wound pains him, he numbs it on the ice. [[Turrha]] sees him but says nothing. He is grateful. | ||
"We must find a transmitter," he says. "We must call for Misraaks to return." | "We must find a transmitter," he says. "We must call for Misraaks to return." | ||
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She does not answer for a long time, but perhaps this is not her fault. The receiver is damaged, so he stitches a patch for it from superconducting threads. | She does not answer for a long time, but perhaps this is not her fault. The receiver is damaged, so he stitches a patch for it from superconducting threads. | ||
When she answers, she sounds annoyed. "I am [[ | When she answers, she sounds annoyed. "I am [[Eido]], daughter of Misraaks, [[Kell]] of the [[House of Light]]. He is close to the Light because he is close to the Lightbearers. My father walks beside the Guardians of the Traveler." | ||
Namrask kneels, frozen in horror. He tears the patch from the radio and stalks away. "I cannot go with them!" he snarls. | Namrask kneels, frozen in horror. He tears the patch from the radio and stalks away. "I cannot go with them!" he snarls. | ||
Oeriks calls after him, but Namrask is too full of rage and fear. The Guardians surely will recognize him if he stands beneath | Oeriks calls after him, but Namrask is too full of rage and fear. The Guardians surely will recognize him if he stands beneath [[the Traveler]]. | ||
==VII: Time Is a Fabric== | ==VII: Time Is a Fabric== | ||
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"To those who renounce the violence of House Salvation and seek refuge in the House of Light, I will be landing a [[Fallen Skiff|Skiff]] near [[Asterion Abyss]]. Bring only what you need. We must prioritize survivors over their possessions. Trigger message repeat." | "To those who renounce the violence of House Salvation and seek refuge in the House of Light, I will be landing a [[Fallen Skiff|Skiff]] near [[Asterion Abyss]]. Bring only what you need. We must prioritize survivors over their possessions. Trigger message repeat." | ||
"Astiirabis," | "Astiirabis," Turrha says. "I know that place. We can hide in the nearby caves." | ||
"Fine," Namrask says. He seizes his loom. Everyone stares and he realizes: survivors over possessions. | "Fine," Namrask says. He seizes his loom. Everyone stares and he realizes: survivors over possessions. | ||