Since the matter of his Tapestry had been solved, there was only the actual weaving and the core, the beating heart of the Tapestry left.
And Angel had no clue as to how he was to find a core for himself.
After praying again to the Being of the Nights and Days for luck, Angel decided to read more on the life on Jess Queen. After all, even if he didn't know what the core truly was or how Jess Queen had truly made a core, he knew that the more he knew about a person, the easier their thoughts, decisions and mannerisms could be distinguished and understood, something Angel desperately wanted to do.
However, although there were many tens and hundreds of books written of the young spellweaver, almost all of their opinions contradicted each other, with some viewing him from a certain perspective and calling him the genius of the century and speaking of how unlucky the Stone-Dwellers had been to lose Queen, some others calling the spellweaver an embodiment of all that was hated and feared, and actually mentioned his Tapestry, something the books favouring Jess Queen did—and lastly the ones that kept their opinions and facts purely neutral.
In other words, the sources and biographies were biased.
And while that may seem a frustrating thing, by comparing the books pro-Queen, anti-Queen and neutral, Angel would be able to contradict certain points with another, cancel them out, then access new information. If all three sources stated a fact as if it were true, then it likely was, and if two sources stated a fact and one different, he could analyse the text and discern between what was most likely to be true or false. There would also be instances where two sides mentioned a fact and the one left didn't mention the fact at all, meaning that either that side couldn't possibly deny that fact but if mentioned would ruin the view on Queen, or that that side knew nothing of the fact.
This was not a very simple process at all, and even if the texts had been extremely clear and have only the most relevant information, it would still be a mildly difficult process for Angel. However, since the sides talked more about facts or information based on part-known-fact-part-clever-guesswork, or mildly irrelevant information that supported their argument, the biographies on Jess Queen became more of a debate instead of an informative work.
Because of this, it was nearly impossible for Angel to get through the entire thing and even discern an important fact from one irrelevant.
And works of Jess Queen weren't very fascinating at all to begin with, causing Angel to lose interest, before he remembered that he wasn't reading because of interest but because of a cause and minor goal for one of his true goals—to break the screen.
So he continued reading and threw away whatever emotions he thought of the stack of biographies with.
—————
'—tell me.' HF's pearly eyes shone in the dim light, reflecting colours across the side of the cold stone walls.
'And why would I do that?'
In HF's eyes swirled dark reds and blacks. For a moment, an image could be seen in his eyes, before it continued swirling round and round, then dissolved into nothingness. He sighed then leaned back, imitating the movements of Klain.
'Why you would want to do that?'he mused quietly, his lips quirking up into a smile. 'Hmmm…dear Lord, can I see a lot of reasons why you would do that, Klain. Your life, for one. Your work, for another.'
Klain sighed. 'We have talked of this already, Vassal of T'gr'es'ak Ho'd'fi'gue. You can do nothing with those bindings on you.' He tipped his head at the golden white chains that bound HF's feet, which shone upon the ceiling of the room because of the lighting.
HF seemed to be remorseful, then angry, then guilty, and finally back to being remorseful. 'What do you want, then?'
'You are a good person, HF, I'm sure you are. You simply stumbled across the wrong Being to become vassal of.' Klain all the while stared into HF's eyes. 'You want the Prophecy of the Beginning; the End; the Middle and the Never, do you not? Then it's very simple what you have to do. Tell us where the immortal is and you can have that.'
HF laughed then, a shrill half-shriek half-roar of laughter. 'Fools,'he spoke, then, smirking: 'F'ol'æ in your language, klinsabujad in Klicks, l'fo, heusb'e'd, jankúgle, danenuot, lefubrekuf-denatant, denatant-lef, whatever else it's called.'
Klain sat back, displeasure quite evident on his face, but he let his guest continue.
'You do not understand, Lu'a'dmo'sui'er Kl'a'in, T'gr'es'ak, the Great, the Greedy, the Gossler, is one far above you and your race. Even if one such as I knew the location of such a creation and told you, no matter where you search or how long you search you shall never find the T'gr'es'ak. He—it—she will be right in-front of your eyes, perhaps breathing deeply behind you, asleep, and neither your nor he will see or even feel the other. Hmm, perhaps—'
'Take him away,'Klain roared angrily, banging his fists on the table. 'Take away the guest and lop off his head! I want to see it by tomorrow!'
HF smiled, his pearly eyes once again swirling. 'Goodnight, Klain the Fool.'
—————
'In a coat of darkness, one rests and sleeps as if home
'In a twist of fate, two enemies become friends; allies
'Three bled, live and fought, their wounds going to the bone
'And so three lived, until they met a great enemy
'Enemy! they cried and rushed to meet the fourth
'And their battle covered the skies and earths
'Continuous for as long as the world lived,
'Four caused unrest and ill peace across the land
'And so was life before fifth was seen,
'Rising from the shallows and unexpected
'So four reunited to meet the fifth
'Who was no friend of theirs
'No battle was met
'And so life became dull with no meanifuls
'And rose from the shallows many
'Who did law at the order of five
'And one rejoiced for the mourning
'For candles lit the streets.'
Vivid blue eyes opened, and with a defining shake, the frail body of the priest collapsed to the floor, which was seven metres below; and so he died, alone and cold—his weavings were of the highest quality.
'Collect the body, disintegrate it, scatter' were the orders so the members obeyed, collecting the body, which then burned, with its ashes scattered across the long halls.