ThatGit
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Beyond the Tapestry - Chapter 1
🕑 Added 2024-11-29 23:00:05 +0000 UTCSo as you may have noticed, I'm really bad at working on what I'm supposed to be working on! November was supposed to be all about WWDtS, I had a vote for it and everything, but I've had...minimal success with that project đ.
Still, I haven't done no writing and I do want to give you guys something! This is the project that has captured my limited writing attention this past month or so. Not sure its going to go anywhere yet, but I've really enjoyed working on it so far.
Beyond the Tapestry is sort of a non-quest spiritual revamp of Harvesting the Multiverse, a story I wrote a lot of at the start of this year. To be clear; this story features a different protagonist, a very different AU setting and magic system, and a lot of other changes. Its only the very high level concept that is being reused.
That story has developed a lot of cracks and ended up being terribly unbalanced, but I did really enjoy the initial concept and wanted to iterate on it. Its a Harry Potter/Magic: the Gathering/Multicross fic following an OC Black character (as in the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black). The magic system is heavily revamped and based loosely on elements I've loved in other stories, and I've also changed a lot of the mechanics found it HtM to fix some of the problems that I ran into there.
Anyway, I think that's more than enough Author's Note. This is chapter 1/6 that will be coming out in 15 minute increments. Let me know what you think!
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Even hours after the end of her last bout of the day, Doreaâs body throbbed. The physical injuries sheâd accumulated throughout the dayâa few bruises, a handful of scrapes, and a nasty gash from where she hadnât quite managed to dodge out of the way of a cutting curseâwere long gone, taken care of my the healers on staff with potions and spells in just a few minutes, but there was little they could do about the spiritual side of things.
It wasnât like sheâd been seriously injured or anything, after all. Just some minor over channeling and a light case of dark magic toxicity, nothing to really worry about. If she was actually in danger there were some radical interventions that could have helped her, but none that were worth contemplating in the face of such mild symptoms. The damage from over channeling would be mostly healed in a few days and the dark magic toxicity would resolve itself soon after.
The problem was, Dorea didnât have a few days. The semi finals were tomorrow, and the finalsâif she made the finalsâwere scheduled for the very next day. And Dorea was in no shape to duel anyone, much less Hemericus gods damned Lambert.
She ached. Her arms felt like iron bars filled with molten lead, her skin was hot and clammy, and she could barely feel the fingers on her right hand, her wand hand. This wasnât her first time dealing with over channelingââsheâd pushed herself a little bit too hard in training plenty of timesââbut it had never been this bad. Especially not in both arms at once, though the damage to her off hand was much less severe.
The healer whoâd fixed her arm (or at least the cut on her arm) had said she was just being overdramatic. Very few mages, especially ones as young as her, ever had to deal with channel-burns at all, and they couldnât possibly be as severe as she was claiming. It took a lot more power than a barely-adult witch could muster to even strain a personâs magic channels, much less actually damage them.
If she hadnât been in so much pain already, she would have hexed the misogynistic prick.
She could hear the party raging outside through the thin walls of the room sheâd been provided by the International Youth Dueling Federation. She should be out there with them, celebrating how far sheâd come already and unwinding in preparation for the last two days of competition. Instead, she was laid up in bed slowly soaking her sheets through with sweat. Moving hurt, the dark magic sheâd been hit with earlier in the day clashing with her own light-aligned magic and the interference sending waves of hot pain throughout her whole body. There were spells she could cast on herself to speed up her recovery and lessen the symptoms, but that would only further inflame the damage in her arms and set her recovery back. Dark magic toxicity was unpleasant, but she could push through it. You couldnât just push through damaged magic channels.
The worst part about it was that this was all her own fault. Sheâd gotten cocky and it had cost her. That no-name colonial muggleborn sheâd run into during the round of sixteen should have been an easy win, but sheâd been stupid. So gods damned stupid. She should have ended the fight in thirty seconds flat, but instead it had turned into a minutes-long slog that had tired her out and forced her to show off a handful of tricks sheâd hoped to save for later rounds.
Sheâd beaten him in the end of course. That had never been in question. But that had been her third duel of the day, and less than half an hour later it was time for her quarter final match against Joaquin Alcalde. Sheâd dueled the Spanish wizard thrice before and beaten him each time, but this time he was practically freshââhe hadnât participated in the team trios this year, meaning heâd had two days to rest since the end of the full team eventââwhile she was worn out from five consecutive days of competition.
Once again, sheâd come out on top, but it had cost her. And now she was just starting to pay the price.
She needed this win. She needed it. Hogwartsâ senior team had gotten flattened in the seven-on-seven stage and her trio had barely made top thirty-two in that event. She was a good duelist, a great duelist even, but theyâd gotten unlucky with the pairings and the rest of her team was just total rubbish. Malfoy was a disgrace to his family name, Diggle barely knew which way to point his wand, Goldstein couldnât keep his head under pressure, Rookwood knew too many spells and didnât know when to use them, and the less said about Bones and Wigley the better.
The singles tournament was her only chance to scrape out a win this year, and she needed a win. That was the deal sheâd made with uncle Sirius. If she could prove that she had what it took to go pro, she could contribute to the familyâs standing that way. If she couldnât, sheâd be married off to that boorish oaf Charlus Potter by the end of the summer.
That wasnât going to happen. She didnât care that the Potters were making money hand over fist off their new exclusive deal with St. Mungoâs. She didnât care that Sirius had been trying to negotiate an alliance with Henry Potter for going on five years now. And she certainly didnât care that Charlus Potter had turned down a half-dozen of her cousins saying it was only her that he wanted. He could fuck right off because he wasnât going to get her!
She was Dorea Andromeda Black, daughter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. She could trace her line back to the god-pharaohs of Egypt and counted kings, emperors, and even the bloody Morrigan herself (may she bring ruin to her enemies and victory to her children) among her direct ancestors. She was not a gods damned Potter, no matter how noble those upstart merchants and death cultists thought they were!
âŚbut at this rate, she was going to be one very soon.
Dorea collapsed back against her pillows, hot tears prickling her eyes and threatening to spill down her cheeks. Her arms hurt too much to wipe them away, almost too much to worry about what was going to happen. It was hard to think about future pain when the present felt plenty bad already.
She was going to be a Potter. A thrice-damned Potter. It would be one thing if she was marrying into the main lineâshe could live with marrying to become a lady of the Wizengamot, even if it was of a far lesser house than her ownâbut Charlus was a third son not poised to inherit anything of merit. Certainly he was a favored third son, spoiled rotten by his parents, grandparents, and godparents, but that just made things worse.
She balled her hands into fists, or tried too at any rate. The first three fingers of her right hand wouldnât quite listen right, twitching stiffly instead of curling down to join her ring finger and pinky.
Damn it, damn it, damn it! This wasnât happening. This couldnât be happening. There had to be something she could do, some way to fix this, but she couldnât think of anything. Over channeling was a bad idea for a reason. Wizardry was very good at healing damage you could see, but much less effective on internal injuries, and there were few things more internal than damage inside your very magic.
But there had to be something. There had to be. She racked her brain, mentally zipping back and forth from useless potion to useless spell. What good was a decade of magical education if it couldnât help her when it really counted? What good was any of what sheâd done if she was going to end up married out to a chauvinistic, stupid, bigoted prick like Charlus Potter whoâd never let her do anything interesting for the rest of her gods forsaken life!
She was broken out of her spiraling thoughts by a soft knock on the door. âDorea?â a familiar voice called. âAre you in there? Are you awake?â
For a moment, Dorea seriously considered playing mum. She did not want to talk to anyone, much less Darius Rookwood whoâd completely blown her chances in the trios event with his inability to distinguish between a dark severing curse and a completely dissimilar wide-angle shield breaker.
The knock came again. âDorea, it's Darius.â His voice was quiet, soft enough that it wouldnât have woken her up if she really had been asleep. âNo oneâs seen you all night so I know youâre in there. Can I come in?â
Dorea tilted her head back and squeezed her eyes shut, her teeth clenched so tightly together she could feel her jaw creaking.
There was a third knock.
âOh fine!â she called, exhaling violently on the second word. She regretted it instantly, the harsh movement sending a renewed wave of discomfort through her chest and arms. âAgh,â she choked, âget in here before you break the bloody door down.â
The door opened with a soft click and Darius sauntered into her room, a crooked grin on his lips. He was tall for a noble, just breaking six feet, with long black hair pulled up into a high ponytail, a narrow face, and soft gray eyes. Heâd changed out of his dueling robes into something much more casual, a simple black robe embroidered with countless stylized corvids done in a blue thread so dark it blended in with the black. It was rather conservative for a party, but Rookwood was just like that.
Dorea didnât mind Rookwood most of the time. He was one of her cousins and theyâd spent a lot of time together growing up. His mother had been a Black before sheâd married out of the house (like she was going to be doing all too soon, damn it) and theyâd both ended up in Slytherin like Blacksâeven unofficial Blacksâalmost always did. He was smart, funny, and they usually ended up partnering up in runes and potions classes. Between that and the dueling team, there werenât many of her classmates that Dorea knew better.
Right now though, Dorea could barely stand to look at him. Heâd apologized profusely after the matchâthey both knew that heâd been the one whoâd fucked upâand she probably would forgive him sooner rather than later, but she certainly wasnât ready to do so yet. Unfortunately they were both staying in the same set of rooms that had been assigned to the Hogwarts team and competing in the same tournament so she couldnât really avoid him particularly well.
âFinely,â Darius drawled, âI was starting to think youâdââ his voice caught in his throat as he finally caught sight of her, his eyes widening. âMerlin, Dorea, are you alright?â
Trying to smile hurt, but she thought sheâd managed something that looked more like a grin than a grimace. She was probably quite a sight, all wrapped up in blankets and propped up on pillows. She was always pale, but dark magic toxicity always exacerbated that pallor, making her look weak and sickly even when she wasnât feeling all that bad. Given how sick she felt, it was probably safe to say she looked even more horrendous than usual.
Darius stared at her for a moment, then cursed under his breath. âMorganaâs tits, I thought I was coming to drag you away from whatever book youâd buried your head in, but you look just about ready to get buried properly! What the hell happened? Should I call a healer?â
âWouldnât help,â Dorea mumbled, hating how weak and reedy her voice sounded. Her words were slow and halting, but she could fucking talk, damn it! âDark magic toxicity and over channeling. I already took a potion for the pain,â not that it had particularly helped, but she still gestured towards an empty glass vial lying on her bedside table with her head, âand they canât do fuck all about the rest of it.â
Darius stared down at her blankly. âOver channeling and dark magic toxicity doesnât look like that,â he told her doubtfully.
Fucking prick. âIt does when you overdo it as badly as I did,â she all but growled.
âI meanâŚyou look half dead! Are you sure the healers didnât miss some kind of curse or something?â
This time she did growl. âI know what the difference between curse damage and over channeling feels like, Rookwood.â
âYeah, of course you do,â he quickly corrected himself, âbut like, there are some really subtle curses out there andâŚâ
Dorea painfully extricated her hands from beneath the sheets and opened her hands, revealing the white lines on her palms and fingers. Theyâd be completely gone in a few daysâjust as soon as she burned away the excess dark magic lingering in her blood and bones and could finally heal them properlyâbut for now they remained as a testament of how far sheâd had to push herself to beat Alcalde.
Rookwoodâs mouth closed with a click. He leaned forward, studying the marks intently, then ruefully shook his head. âDamn,â he whistled, âyou are one hard core bitch, Black, you know that?â Doreaâs grimace turned toothy. âHow the hell did you do that without anyoneââ he snapped his fingers, âOh! I thought it was weird that youâve been dueling in proper gloves all week when you almost never wear them at practice. I thought youâd just finally given in to Ogdenâs,â their teamâs faculty sponsor, ânagging about proper uniforms, but you were being sneaky! Where the hell did you learn to do that?â
Dorea didnât answer, not that Darius would have really expected one. That kind of blood magic was rather illegal in Britain without the right licenseâa license Dorea definitely didnât have. But Vienna was hosting the IYDF summer tournament this year, and it was being run under ICW dueling rules, which were laxer about some kinds of magic than British law was. Magics like the kind of self-sacrificial blood magic that Dorea had used to channel so much magic into her spells sheâd managed to injure herself. It wasnât common or widely accepted, but it wasnât against the rules.
She was trying to avoid using too much such magic. Sheâd be going home soon and it was a bad habit to get into, not to mention what the press might report. The ministry couldnât punish her for using it outside of the countryââthe Wizengamot would never allow itââbut the knowledge of what sheâd done could still be used against her and the family at large in subtler ways.
Dorea paused, something about that nagging in the back of her head. She tried to think, but Darius was talking again.
âI donât know much about that kind of stuff,â and he wasnât going to admit it out loud even if he did. There was a reason Dorea had just shown him some mostly healed cuts on her hands instead of saying anything outright, âbut I doubt the same trick will work two more days in a row. You look really bad, are you going to be fine to duel tomorrow?â
Dorea hid her hands back under the warm sheets, muted spikes of agony shooting down her arms from the motion, before answering. âIâm going to have to be.â
Darius looked worried, not reassured in the slightest by her answer. âLambert isnât going to go easy on you just because youâre not at one-hundred percent. The safety wards are good, but accidents do happen. If youâre not up to dueling tomorrow, you should resign or you might be stuck in bed for a lot longer than a night or two. Or worse.â
Dorea snarled, half rising from the pillows despite how much doing so hurt. Darius didnât deserve her anger; he was probably right and just trying to look after her, but the idea of just giving up, of lying down and resigning herself to her fate, was utterly intolerable. âIâm not going to give up, Rookwood.â
Darius was undeterred. âBetter to give up than give Lambert a chance to pummel you. Iâve heard heâs a vindictive bastard and I doubt heâs forgiven you for embarrassing him last year.â
Dorea looked away, the red of her cheeks bright against her pallid skin. She hadnât meant to make an enemy, but apparently Lambert didnât take rejection well. She hadnât even realized he was propositioning her, or else she would have turned him down quietly and in private. Stupid bloody spaniards. And the worst part was that he was famous enough back home that it had turned into a whole thing. Uncle Sirius had not been amused.
Darius was silent for several long moments, then sighed heavily. âDamn it, Dory.â He flicked his wrist, his wand falling into his hand from its holster on his forearm, then swept it around the room, leaving a pale blue trail along the walls where he was pointing. A moment later, the sounds of the partying vanished as the silencing paling sprang up around her room. He sighed heavily. âTry to get some sleep. Iâll make sure no one bothers you till lunch and you can call an elf if you need something. You need as much time to heal as you can get.â
Something tightened in Doreaâs chest. âThanks Dary,â she mumbled, her voice half swallowed by her pillows but still clearly audible in the sudden silence.
âJustâŚâ he fumbled for words, then sighed again. âKick Lambertâs ass for me, okay?â
âIâll do it for myself, thank you very much,â Dorea shot back.
Darius threw his hands up in disgust and turned to leave. He paused in the doorway and stuck his head back through the translucent sound barrier heâd made. âJust donât do anything stupid, okay? Youâre ten times the mage Lambert will ever be and a single loss wonât change that. If it looks like youâre going to lose, you resign, okay? I donât want to have to explain to Lord Black what happened to his favorite niece. Or the Aurors, for that matter.â
Dorea snorted, more out of amusement of someone calling her Siriusâs favorite niece than anything else, but Darius seemed to take it as a positive sign. He nodded sharply then withdrew, closing the door behind him. A moment later, there was a pulse of magic and the lock clicked. Dorea appreciated the courtesyâone visitor tonight was already more than enough, thank you very much, but hadnât wanted to risk further hurting herself by casting a locking spell.
She closed her eyes and lay back, her mind lingering on what Darius had said at the end. Nothing stupid, huh. Something he might need to explain to the Aurors.
She was pretty sure he meant that she needed to make sure not to resort to any illegal wizardry, the sort her aunts, uncles, and parents taught her under the cover of Castle Blackâs ancient wards. The kind of spells banned from sanctioned duels and often criminalized for being too deadly, too dangerous, or too hard to heal from.
But those were not the only kinds of frowned upon or illegal magics she knew. She was Black, after all, and the House of Black did not think much of the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizardâs restrictions on what kinds of magic they could and could not practice.
Sheâd been very worn out going into the last round and had utilized a sacrifice of blood and pain to make up the difference and give her the strength to keep going. She absolutely couldnât use the same approach again tomorrowâit might actually kill or permanently cripple her if she tried itâbut perhaps something else might be able to do the trick.
She didnât need a miracle. If the next round was delayed by so much as a single day sheâd be healthy enough to slap Lambert around like a muggleborn first-year (though sheâd probably end up back in bed in even worse shape soon after). She just needed something to patch her up and tide her over. Something to clear up her damaged channels and get her back in fighting shape. SomethingâŚ
Doreaâs eyes snapped open. She had it! It wasnât anything sheâd tried before, and it wasnât exactly designed with this in mind, but if she was remembering the listed effects correctly, it might just do the trick.
âTipsey,â she called sharply, desperate hope shining in her eyes.
There was a soft pop and a small, lanky creature appeared beside her bed. She was a little under four feet tall with skinny arms and legs, huge eyes and ears, and wore a pristine white towel embroidered with the emblem of the House of Black wrapped around her like a toga.
She looked up at Dorea, her eyes wide and inquisitive. âMistress Dorea be calling Tipsey?â
âI need one of Cassiopeiaâs journals from the library, the ones with blue-dyed covers. Either the third or fourth volume, I canât remember which,â Dorea instructed briskly.
âTipsey knows the ones. She be bring both.â She vanished with another pop.
Dorea smiled painfully. She really hoped she was remembering the details correctly. It had been nearly a year since sheâd gone through the journals, and sheâd only skimmed most of them, but she had a good feeling about this. She needed to double check the details and getting everything ready in time was going to hurt, but maybe, just maybe, this could work.
She was very glad Darius had come by, almost enough to forgive him for his uselessness earlier in the week. It would beâŚless than ideal if someone came to check up on her or overhead the wrong thing, but heâd hopefully eliminated both issues. If she won this thingâwhen she wonââsheâd make sure to thank him. For now though, she needed to get to work. Time was ticking.
Comments
Zerak
Does this have any relation with no nut November? For quests, I think for some authors after a certain point changing a quest from a quest to a story makes more sense. Like make it a quest at first if you want then once it reaches a certain point you switch to a normal story (if you want to make a quest that is). One fun thing would be if this MC and Hydrys are from the same timeline. Somehow against the odds 2 Blackâs within 50 years of eachother became Planeswalkers. Could have them meeting up and getting married (that way both can share screen time rather than 2 separate stories), it would also be interesting in that you have 2 MCâs that are developed as separate characters be in a relationship, so you have a clear idea of their way of thinking, and have practiced writing a store for each where they are the center of it, so make the interactions between them feel even more alive. Would be super funny for another Black who was thought dead (I assume) from 30 years ago to also show up on the tapestry of the family tree still alive.
ThatGit
I did actually consider doing basically exactly that. I've been workshopping alternate versions of that story since before I stopped actively doing the chapter-a-day quest. This is just the first version I've stuck with long enough to consider sharing and (like I mentioned in the author's note) I'm not actually sure this one is going to go anywhere either. November was not a great month in terms of writing and I felt I needed to post *something*.
Zerak
If you ever decide to go back to quest and turn it to a story you can roll it back to before the RWBY trip, and cut out the times he got blueprints (there were only a few, Zatana, Grundy, and Atlantis guards. Not sure if he had Kent yet at that point). Though being able to summon Grundy could be left in (at least if he is in the DC world) since it would be just accelerating his summon rather than summon a copy. You can then repurpose the already writhe parts to something you like, if you want to at some point.
ThatGit
I see what you're saying. I definitely could have made that clearer right from the get go. This version of the Planeswalker power set is going to be much more pared back, without summoning as a mechanic at all for basically all the reasons you listed.
Zerak
When said same setting I meant Harry Potter. Had you picked any other setting I would have been al for it. Itâs just that the prominent thought for me is that the MC is not Hydrys. Donât get me wrong, he isnât anywhere close to my favourite character, didnât like a bunch of things about him. But all I see when I look at this is a remake of the story that I use to read almost every day right after I got off work, but with a female MC. Had it been a female MC in another setting, or a female MC I already have an emotional connection with (through canon), like for example one of the Black sister during the marauders era, it would have also been fine. Had I not HtM it would have been fine. Itâs just a collection of factors were if a single one was not there it would not have been an issue for me. Maybe if it was mentioned into the intro was worded different o indicate that it was not Hydrys (when you said OC I thought you were talking about him, might want to clear that up) because I thought it was about him and kept waiting for his part. TL;DR: I had expectations set on something and was disappointed. As for quest mechanic, I agree you do better without it. There is another author I follow where me and a few others argued he should change one of his stories from a quest to a normal story, and since the transition the quality has gone up significantly, and the mechanics have changed since he didnât need to keep things in a way that stops readers from abusing them. I also agree on the summoning point, it is broken as fuck. It makes it where his person growth can take a back seat for gaining more summons and more lands. I think avoiding summons completely is a better way to go with Planeswalker fic. Keep it to items rather than people. Or set a limit on the summons, for example needing constant upkeep so taking up a mote of mana permanently till unsommoned, or having a mental strain where if he has above a certain number he canât maintain them indefinitely. Or make it so it actually summons the person (like celestial spirits from fairy tail) so canât always summon everyone, and the really strong people wonât come unless itâs an emergency and he canât boss them around. From a story perspective if you have both the original and the summon that double the needed character development (well not double) but he would need to interact with both, or just stop worrying about the original. Plus the magical aspect is more entertaining than the summoning aspect so forgoing the summoning completely would flow better. At least of sapient things. Also gives you more reason to interact with the world to learn and develop. I will try to give this story a second chance. Itâs just that right now I am beyond disappointed. Saw this come out, as I went to the gym, finished all muscle groups because I had the time (do very exhausting workout) and all the while I was under the impression this a remake of Hydrysâs story now that you have a better idea on how you want to do things. So I get into the jacuzzi after workout to relax and read and a chapter or 2, then I get this. So expectation did not meet reality. I would recommend making to clear in the intro that itâs a different story, not a remake (because revamp, and OC from Black family made me think Hydrys).
ThatGit
Hey! First of all, thanks for the comment, I really appreciate this sort of thought out and elaborated on feedback. I'll try to address as many of your points here as I can. So to start things off, female MC. I know its not for everyone, but its what my muse was feeling this time around and I spent November with basically zero writing inspiration so I decided to give it a try. Hopefully I can do it justice. Anyway, with that out of the way, a bit about this story vs HtM. So key point: this is *not* the same setting as that story was set in. The events here begin about 30 years earlier and feature a much more AU heavy version of the HP setting that will get elaborated on primarily through the magic system and Dorea's musings. The Hydrys of my previous story is not actually born yet in this one. Next a bit about why I'm working on this vs HtM. To put it plainly, that quest has sort of gotten into a bit of a corner. There are some fundamental flaws with the system I set up and the places that the story has gone that I think are only going to get worse and worse and have mostly killed my interest in continuing the story. The biggest one is the summoning mechanic which, in hindsight, was utterly broken from the get go. I also don't know that I can continue keeping up with a quest. It was interesting for a bit, but around seventy chapters in I was starting to get a little bit tired of the whole voting mechanic which I found so fun and interesting at the start. It just doesn't fit with my creative workflow very well unfortunately, no matter how much I loved reading all the comments/planning/discussion. I've completely revamped how I plan to make Planeswalker mechanics work this story in a way that will hopefully not terribly warp things immediately. We'll see how that goes. Finally, the character. I think that if you stick with the story, you'll hopefully find that Dorea is a bit more interesting than you're giving her credit for. She, like all of my characters, is just a little bit fucked in the head and thats going to become very, very apparent even in just these handful of chapters. She's (at least in my opinion) very much not the typical Black, not least because I (tentatively) plan to use her to explore the opposite spectrum of magic compared to Hydrys. That being, White/Light magic taken from the angle of absolute self-righteousness and conviction used to do terrible things, where Hydrys was very much a Black/Dark magic used for relatively righteous purposes if only because its just practical.
Zerak
Generally I donât like female MC stories since itâs harder to get immersed into the story. But I do read them occasionally if they are particularly good or I really like the concept (like something about Planeswalkers). And I have read a few of your stories so I know the quality isnât in question. But it ended up being set in Harry Potter in very similar circumstances as your first story (might even be the same Dora from the interlude, she was seeing someone else I think so probably different or different timeline). While reading this chapter all I could think about was when will Hydrys show up in the story. But once I get to the end and it seemed like she would be the planeswalker or just the MC kinda lost hope. I went and looked for the word Hydrys in the following 5 chapters but could not find it in them. Had it been absolutely any other setting (even one I know nothing about) I would have been very enthusiastic about reading it (even with a female MC). But the lack of Hydrys ruined it for me (specially since the MC here is also a Black). So my thoughts about this is while it looks interesting, I am not interested. At least not right now. Maybe later, but probably not. Too invested in Hydrys to think about anything else while reading. Would have been fine with reboot more than this. Donât know if others would share my opinion on things. But thatâs make take on the story as of the end of chapter 1. Edit: For the chapter itself, it was not bad. There focus on the world building rather than the character, not necessarily a bad thing, but as itâs not a quest you get to define the character so it would have made her stand out more. In hindsight might be another contributor to why I donât like her. She a the generic Black MC rather than a fleshed out character. You did a much better job fleshing out the MC in your Campione fic, while here all we know is that she is desperate to not get married and her uncle will likely try to screw her over in a similar way to your other Black MC. Though I do like the parts of the world building you did flesh out, but if she leaves the world developing her character would have been more important than fleshing out the world (I could be wrong and she doesnât leave in which case ignore this). On the flip side 6 chapters in one go would so,very that issue if there is any character development in them.
