Advent of a God

Chapter 3

In a white room, a woman with a very weak presence sat lazily on an eye-catching black throne. It wasn't very eye-catching due to its great craftsmanship as it looked like a chair found anywhere were it not made out of lunar grave. The stone was easily found in graves that were filled with anguish and hate, it screamed in agony whenever anyone tries to forge or sculpt it. So in all of Youling, there was only one craftsman who could craft the stone. 

In the white room, she sat there eating white grapes and staring off into space until a fluctuation in space caught her attention. A thin film of air separated and a man with really long hair stepped out. It was so long that the portal stayed open due to the presence of his hair going through them. 

"Hey Nyx, what do you think of giving me a haircut?" Kyre asked with a polite smile that irritated anyone who didn't know that this smug look was his default face. It looked even more annoying now that his eyes were half lidded. 

"No." And as if to show off, she brushed back her short white hair that only reached her chin while eating another grape. 

"Then at least make this room less white." The only reason his eyes were half lidded was because the room was glaringly white, only the black throne gave his eyes some respite. Even with that, the person sitting on the throne was wearing a white dress that made her incredibly pale completion look less saturated, but not by much. 

"No."

"...I got your solution," Kyre said, shoving the gray orb towards Nyx. In return Nyx threw a pair of scissors that seemed to come from the silver bangle on her right hand. It stopped right before it punctured Kyre in the forehead. Kyre didn't even blink. 

"Your kid," Nyx replied and an unknown force pushed the orb back towards Kyre. 

"..." this was basically telling him to go fix the problem wasn't it. Although Nyx's expression didn't change, Kyre caught the look of satisfaction in her cloudy eyes for having the ability to push the responsibility onto someone other than herself. 

Kyre was pretty happy to receive the scissors, cutting his hair right there and then. Now it just barely touched the ground. The hair that was cut off lost a bit of it's luster before quickly receding into the portal as if some force was pulling it. 

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In a large workroom, short humanoid creatures with a healthy gray glow were spinning some sort of black thread. The black thread was coming out of a nondescript portal from the top of the room and spreading out to divide itself amongst the different spinners. 

"It's been cut!" a dwarf cried out. 

"Cut?" another asked, looking up from his work. 

A cacophony of "Cut!" resounded throughout the workshop and the workers doubled their pace. On the other hand, the ones stood beside the spinners sighed in relief and slumped to the floor. 

Perhaps the thread was already weakened, being cut from its source, but it still required quite a bit of manpower to cut it. The ones beside the spinners were in charge of cutting the thread when enough of it was made. They weren't dexterous enough to wrap the thread around the spools, so they had to cut the strands. Seems rather easy except there were many instances where a great show of strength simply got surface wounds. Not deadly, but it hurt quite a bit. There were other instances where stupid cutters would wrap the thread around their fingers or wrists in order to get better grasp of it and ended up cutting their limbs off. 

The only way to cut it was to intensely concentrate their magical powers in hopes of burning through the thread. It required a lot of energy and left the cutters mentally and physically drained. It was even worse for the ones that had to work with the seamstresses.