The Apprentice

Two pairs of blue glowing eyes, similar to his own, stared at him. But there was little these eyes could do instead. All weavers stared without blinking.
"You're apprenticeship begins today, Lace Jabot. It is time to meet your master, Ply Whipstitch", the Elder in front of the young weaver said and waved at the person next to him. The young weaver nodded.
"As it is custom, you shall be told the path the Loom predicted for you", the Elder continued and produced a piece of fabric in his hands. Lace could read and write in patterns, but still he was unable to interpret the complex designs the Loom produced.
"Your path leads you outside the Netherworld, where you meet mortal and immortal beings. All of them can teach you things you do not know about, but not all of the knowledge is obtained easily. You are a stranger among strangers. You have not one teacher but many. But beware, young weaver. The world you enter is very different from the one you know."
Lace wasn't sure if he should be disappointed or not, after the Elder was done. He always had assumed the Loom's prophecy was a detailed description of his future.
"Thank you", Lace muttered and indicate a bow.
"Go forth, young weaver and fulfil your destiny, may it be good or bad", the Elder answered. Lace went over to Ply and the two weavers left the building. Outside, Ply pointed at the stars around them.
"The world we are going to will not have these stars", Ply stated. Lace looked around. It was hard to imagine a place without them, they were everywhere.
"It must be a dark place", he answered.
"It is filled with light. But I think it's best to show you", his master answered and tore a hole in the fabric of reality. The other side was bright, almost blinding. It was divided in two parts, the bottom one was mostly white and the other part of a light blue. Tombstones of different shape helped the young weaver identifying this place as a graveyard. he had seen pictures, but they lacked the intense colours.
Ply stepped through the rift and waited on the other side for her apprentice to follow.
"Hurry. No tear shall stay open for long."
Lace nodded and followed the older weaver into the other realm. His feet sank into the ground as she snow gave in with a scrunching sound. While Ply closed the opening, Lace looked around. Everything was different from the Netherworld. Air, wind, clouds, sun, snow, trees... he had read and heard about them, but it was something entirely different being around them.
The young weaver stood on the graveyard motionlessly while he was trying to precess the impressions around him.
Suddenly there was a sharp stench and when Lace turned around, he saw a smoke cloud erupting from the ground, next to his master. A creature with several twisted horns and purple skin emerged, wearing only a loin cloth. His breath formed small fumes as it condensed in the cold air. None of the weavers showed this obvious sign of breathing.
"You could have chosen a warmer place, Master Whipstitch", he complained, yet was grinning at the same time. Lace was confused by his, but it would be impolite to ask his master now, especially since the two seemed to know each other.
"It's a good place", Ply answered. The purple man looked around and snorted.
"Nah, not my taste", he said and eventually noticed Lace.
"Who's that?", he asked and nodded at the young weaver.
"My apprentice, Lace Jabot. Lace, come here and meet an acquaintance of mine. He's a demon and my current host", Ply said without turning her head. Lace came nearer and simply nodded. he then noticed the demon had stretched out his hand towards him. The young weaver was not sure why and what he was supposed to do now.
As he continued not to shake hands, the demon laughed.
"A cautious young fellow. Did you teach him not to shake hands with a demon?", he asked Ply while laughed.
"It's not necessary it seems", she simply said. Lace had the impression he just past a test without noticing it. Why would he need to shake someone's hand? What would be the point of doing that?
"Will your apprentice stay with you? I am sure I can add another room", the demon said when Lace heard another sound, which caught his attention. It was melodic, yet not caused by words or a voice for that matter. On one of the tomb stones, he saw a small black creature. It had yellow eyes and a yellow beak. It tilted its head and stared at the weaver. When he moved, the creature flew away and to the leave-less tree. It was a bird, Lace realised. Surely it had been the reason for the sounds he heard.
He turned his attention back to the conversation next to him.
"... you could send him there", the purple demon just said.
"Not one teacher but many", Ply quoted and Lace immediately knew what she was referring to. The demon didn't, but obviously, he was used to get strange answers from Master Whipstitch.
"Something like that, yes", he said.
"Then this is the path we follow", Ply agreed. The demon raised his eyebrows.
"Aren't you going to think about it first before sending the boy away? This place could be dangerous", he wondered. If the weavers had facial expression, they would surely look puzzled. Ply was exactly speaking out what Lace was thinking when she replied:
"Why would I need to? Whatever happens is meant to happen. My actions have no influence on his future."
The purple demon rolled his eyes.
"Whatever. I don't argue about religions."
"No, you don't", Ply agreed. Lace began to wonder how the two of them were connected. He knew it was probably none of his business, but the demon was strange. Or maybe his behaviour was normal for a demon. The young weaver couldn't tell, the purple one was the first he had met.
"Anyway, I'm getting cold. Enjoy your field trip", the demon announced and disappeared in a sudden jet of flames. Lace noticed that it hadn't melted the snow. Either what he knew about snow was wrong, or this had to do with magic.
"We stay here for now, so you can get used to the world. Tomorrow I bring you to the school", Ply said.
"What school?", Lace asked. While he was watching the bird, he had missed parts of the conversation.
"It's a school to improve your magic."
"I though the apprentice learns everything from the master", the young weaver wondered.
"No. I can only teach you how to alter the fabric. But you weave the patterns."
Lace stared at the snow for a while, thinking about Ply's words.

"So the patterns I do know...", he began, but left his question unfinished.
"They serve as an example of how to affect objects."
Lace was silent, thinking. he then knocked on the ground with the tip of his staff and the eye on the other end began to glow. Four threads formed from the light and he carefully began to entwine them. Ply didn't ask what he was trying to do. She could read it in the pattern he was creating. When he was done, he let go of the treads and lifted his staff again. As the light disappeared, the snow around him turned sky blue. The young weaver was satisfied with the result. He could affect more than just cloth.
"Make it green", Ply demanded. Lace had a suspicion why. Green was not colour seen very often in the Netherworld.
Again he made the treads appear and began to knot them. But he hesitated when he reached the part about the colour. He didn't know how green worked. The other weaver stared at him, but no word was spoken. Slowly, the sun wandered across the sky, turning into a fiery orange as it approached the horizon. Lace still hadn't continued his work. There was no use in trying different patterns until one coincidentally delivered the correct result.
The sun sank down, bathing the snow in an orange light. Stars appeared in the darkening sky. They were smaller and less bright than those in the Netherworld. Stilltheir sight was beautiful, but Lace knew he couldn't gaze at them before he hadn't completed the task. Carefully he moved one of the patient threads and moved it around the others. When the glow finally faded, he stared at the ground below him. But even though the light sent down by stars and moon was reflected by the white snow, it was still too dark to see if he was successful or not. Lace didn't mind and prepared to wait until the sun came back.
His master let a net of faintly glowing threads appear in her hand and after some quick movements of her fingers, the snow began to glow. The part Lace had coloured shined in a turquoise colour. Lace waited for his master to comment on the result, but she remained silent.
"I will do it again", he announced and bleached the snow again.

A faint glow on the horizon announced the dawn of a new day when Lace suppressed a yawn and finished another knot. The Glowing threads disappeared and the still glowing snow around him turned emerald green.
Ply didn't say anything before, while or after she returned the area to its usual appearance. Lace was staring at the slowly fading stars and decided to be quicker next time, so he could look at the new night sky longer.
After the sun became the only source of light, Ply ended the silence between them by saying:
"We go to your new home, where you eat and rest."
Lace didn't nod or answer. He simply followed her through a tear she created. He was feeling tired, so the rest was very welcome. Even though weavers inhabited the Netherworld, they were still living beings and as such, they required food and sleep. However, the constant twilight of their home and their faded bodies reduced the amount of necessary life supports to a very low amount. It was a great advantage when living in a world for spirits to pass by on the way to their respective afterlives.
On the other side of the tear, there still snow, but also a large complex of buildings.
"You need to sign in and choose the classes you wish to take for the next semester", Ply said and pointed at the building.
"You are sending me away, Master", Lace stated. He wasn't reproachful. It was simply an observation.
"You are still my apprentice and nothing changes that", she answered. Lace didn't turn around to see her walking through another tear. His task was given to him, so there was no point in wasting time. Also, there was no need for any form of goodbyes.