Woven & Unwoven

8:08 a.m. CET — First Floor, Gior Flagship Store, Quadrilatero della Moda, Milan Fashion District, Italia

Vivian led the group through the expansive first floor, where rows of ready-to-wear designs lined the walls, each one more striking than the last. The vibrant hues and intricate tailoring of both men's and women's apparel gleamed under the soft, ambient lighting. Every inch of the store seemed to pulse with life, a testament to the meticulous craftsmanship behind Gior's creations. As they walked, she gestured toward various employees stationed in their workspaces, adjusting garments, taking measurements, and consulting fabric samples.

"Here," Vivian said, pointing to a group of seamstresses at one of the fitting stations. "This is where the magic happens—the fitting process. We're perfectionists at Gior. Every piece goes through at least three fittings, sometimes more, before it's ready to hit the market." She smiled, clearly proud of the work being done.

Loconda's gaze wandered, lingering on a luxurious, high-end tracksuit displayed near one of the workbenches. The fabric shimmered, a soft blend of silk and cashmere, its deep navy color set off by sleek black accents. It was both elegant and casual, a perfect blend of sophistication and comfort.

Vivian noticed the direction of Loconda's attention and slowed her pace. "Ah, you have an eye for quality," she said with a smile. "This tracksuit was one of our latest collaborations with an emerging Japanese designer. It's constructed with the finest materials to ensure both style and performance."

Loconda's fingers brushed over the fabric, feeling its smooth texture. "It's exquisite," she remarked, her voice soft with admiration.

"I'll make sure we have one packed for you, for your trip to the Alps," Vivian added with a wink.

Loconda hesitated, unsure whether to accept the gift. "I… I'm not sure if I should," she began.

"Don't worry," Vivian assured her, sensing the hesitation. "Gior will be sponsoring your entire wardrobe for the duration of your stay. I highly doubt you packed enough for an entire summer's worth of events. The tracksuit will be perfect for your travels." She gave a knowing look, then added, "Trust me—you won't want to wear anything else."

Loconda bit her lip, nodding in acknowledgment. "You're right. I didn't have much time to pack."

Vivian smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling. "We'll make sure you're well taken care of. After all, a lady must look her best at all times, especially when there's business to attend to."

As they continued down the hall, they arrived at another gold elevator. A man dressed in a crisp Gior chef's suit greeted them, holding a silver tray laden with small handheld appetizers. Each guest took a few as they boarded the elevator, the savory aromas of the food mingling with the soft scent of polished wood.

Inside the elevator, only Vivian, Otto, David, and Loconda boarded. The others had already dispersed to continue their work. As the doors slid shut, the small group ascended in silence for a few moments. Then, Vivian turned to Loconda with a more serious expression.

"Do you have any questions, Miss Toussaint?" Vivian asked, her voice gentle but probing.

Loconda considered the question for a moment. "Actually, yes," she said. "How did the academy manage to find me before those men did?"

Vivian's lips curved into a slight smile, though her eyes were focused. "We've been watching for your aunt's return for some time now. We had no way of knowing when Acadia would resurface, but we've had eyes on her apartment for a while." She paused before continuing. "The men chasing after you and your aunt are part of the mafia, but thankfully I have spies within their ranks. They were able to alert us to your arrival just as their men were closing in. Fortunately, we had two professors nearby in Brera who were able to rescue you in time."

Loconda let out a quiet breath of relief. "I didn't realize it was that dangerous here."

Vivian's expression softened. "It is. But you're safe now, and we'll make sure you stay that way."

8:28 a.m. CET — Second Floor, Gior Flagship Store

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, revealing the fourth floor. The space inside was strikingly different from the floor below—a mix of luxurious furniture and home décor all designed by Gior. The soft lines of the furniture were clean and modern, yet rich in detail, with textures that begged to be touched.

Vivian motioned for Otto and David to stay in the elevator as she and Loconda stepped out, their heels clicking across the polished floor. The two women walked past delicate armchairs, elegant coffee tables, and sculptural lamps, each piece as meticulously designed as the garments downstairs.

As they walked, their conversation continued.

"Acadia's situation is… complicated," Vivian said, her tone turning grave. "She's on the Sanctioned Registry—a blacklist reserved for those accused of practicing the dark arts. It's not a list anyone wants their name on."

Loconda furrowed her brow. "What are the dark arts?"

Vivian's eyes calmed as they wandered to a beautiful loveseat nestled in the corner of the room. With deliberate grace, she crossed the space, her fingertips brushing the plush fabric as though drawing inspiration from its essence. "Everything," she began, her voice carrying the cadence of a storyteller, "is in motion. From the hum of the smallest atom to the ripple of the largest wave, the world is an orchestra of vibrations, each note played at its own unique frequency."

She turned back to Locanda, her expression equal parts teacher and poet. "Resonance is the art of harmonizing with those frequencies. A skilled manipulator can coax vibrations to align, to amplify, or to unravel entirely. It is creation, transformation, and destruction all wrapped in the same melody."

Vivian's tone darkened slightly as her fingers lingered on the loveseat's edge. "But Acadia—your aunt—played a different tune. She didn't just manipulate resonance; she wove it into objects, crafting cursed artifacts that could alter the vibrations of those around them. A tie that sows discord in the hearts of others. A necklace that drains vitality with every wear. These creations don't just hum; they sing, loudly and dangerously, disrupting the natural harmony of all who fall into their orbit."

She stepped back, her gaze piercing. "Resonance is a power of infinite potential, Miss Toussaint. But like any great power, it can heal—or harm—depending on the hands that wield it."

Locanda bristled, her voice laced with defiance. "My aunt is not a criminal, Vivian. I've known her my entire life. She's brilliant, eccentric maybe, but she's not the kind of woman who would… hurt people. This idea of her practicing dark arts, it's absurd. Someone must be setting her up."

Vivian held Locanda's gaze, her expression a mix of sympathy and cautious resolve. She walked toward the window, the sunlight spilling over her poised figure like a halo. "I don't want to believe it either," she admitted, her voice quieter now. "Acadia was my mentor, one of the most gifted designers I've ever known. She had a way of weaving resonance into her work that no one else could replicate. She turned every creation into a masterpiece that seemed alive."

Vivian turned back to Locanda, her face shadowed with worry. "But the evidence, Locanda… it's mounting. Day by day, reports come in—cursed objects traced back to her, accounts from victims, whispers of deals with dangerous people. I don't know how much of it is true, but even if only a fraction is, she's in serious trouble. And trust me, there are people hunting her who will not hesitate to ensure she can never defend herself."

Locanda's defiance faltered, replaced by a flicker of doubt. She stepped closer, her arms crossing protectively over her chest. "Then why am I here? If you believe all this, why risk bringing me into this mess?"

Vivian's posture eased, her tone earnest. "Because you may be the only person who can help us find her before they do. You love her, don't you? And you trust her in ways no one else can. Maybe you're the missing link, the thread we need to unravel the truth and reach her first."

Locanda's jaw tightened, but her resolve remained. "I'll do whatever it takes to find her. But I won't stand by and let her be condemned without a fight. If what you're saying is true, if these accusations against her have any weight, then I'll find out why. But I'll also find out who's really behind all of this. My aunt isn't a villain. She's always been a positive force in my life, with a light that's unshakable, even in the darkest times."

Vivian nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips, though her eyes remained clouded with concern. "Bene. That fire in you—that's what we'll need. You might not realize it yet, Locanda, but you've inherited more from her than you know. Not just her talent, but her courage. And maybe, just maybe, that will be the flame that lights the way—illuminating the path to uncover what's truly happening."

She took a step closer, placing a hand lightly on Locanda's shoulder. "But listen carefully. This won't be easy. Acadia's work was legendary for a reason. If she's truly involved, it means we're dealing with resonance manipulated at a level even I can barely comprehend. The people who want her found—well, they don't care about the truth. They care about silencing the matter. So, whatever you learn, whatever you uncover, you'll need to tread carefully. For your aunt's sake, and for your own."

Locanda swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Vivian's words settle on her shoulders. Yet, amidst the uncertainty, a determination began to solidify in her chest. "I'll find her," she said, her voice steady. "And I'll prove she's not the monster they think she is."

Vivian stepped back, her expression tempering. "I believe you. And here at Gior we protect our own, like family. Our first goal will be to recover all of the cursed objects connected to your aunt's case and reverse the damage before it spreads even further."

Loconda absorbed this information quietly, her thoughts swirling as they approached a subtle, hidden elevator tucked seamlessly into the wall. Its paint matched the surrounding decor perfectly, blending into the building itself. The elevator doors opened with a soft hiss, and the two women stepped inside. As the doors slid shut behind them, the gentle hum of the ascent filled the space. Vivian turned to Loconda, her tone soothing.

"Now's the perfect time, Miss Toussaint, if you have any other questions. I can answer them while we're on our way up."

Loconda paused, her mind racing with so many thoughts. After a moment, she spoke.

"At the fashion show… how did you know I was related to Acadia? Only a handful of people know we're related."

Vivian's lips curved into a small smile. "I knew it even before I met you," she replied, her eyes briefly flicking to the elevator buttons as it ascended. "The intricate detailing in the fabrics you made… it was a pattern I had only ever seen from Acadia herself when she worked here at Gior." She looked at Loconda with a knowing gaze. "Your aunt had a very particular way of weaving in her designs. It was subtle, but unmistakable."

8:42 a.m. CET — Fourth Floor, Gior Flagship Store

The elevator came to a smooth stop, and the doors opened to reveal a bustling office/design studio. The space was alive with energy—designers sketching, seamstresses stitching with delicate precision, and light filtering through large windows, illuminating the creative chaos. As the two women walked through the room, the staff paused momentarily, offering polite nods or brief acknowledgments as they passed.

At the far end of the room, Loconda spotted Otto and David standing by an office door, waiting. Vivian gestured toward the pair, her voice now steady with finality. "This is the end of your tour. I'll be seeing you again later this evening before you head to the Alps."

Loconda nodded, taking in the scene around her. She had been to many design studios in her life, but this one felt different—there was something almost magical about the energy here, a raw creativity that she hadn't encountered elsewhere.

Vivian's tone shifted again, softer and more personal. "I know this situation will feel overwhelming at times Loconda. May I call Loconda?"

"Of course,"

"And while we're of the campus grounds, feel free to call me Vivian. Okay?"

"Sure."

"Loconda, I am well aware that I have gotten you involved in something far more complex than I'm sure you anticipated by coming to Italy, and we both know you've put your safety at risk by accepting my offer." She paused, her expression sincere. "Now that I am taking full responsibility for you while you are here in Italy, that means you will always have a home and person to come to whenever you need help or advice, understand?"

"Yes ma'am."

"If you truly wish to master fashion—to carve your name among the greats—there is no better place on Earth to study fashion than Milano, the heartbeat of design itself. The path won't be easy, but I see in you the courage to rise, the skill to create, and the spirit to endure whatever challenge may come. And speaking of challenges, the Havocy program is one of the most demanding paths you can take. But if you remain strong and listen closely to your teachers, you'll not only survive—you'll thrive."

Vivian gave a small nod, her voice firm with conviction. "I believe in you, Loconda. I truly do."

With that, she turned to leave, offering a final smile. "I'll see you this afternoon. Take care." She gestured to Otto and David, and the trio made their way down the hall, leaving Loconda standing before the office door.

As the door to the office opened, a striking woman emerged. She was tall, with a graceful, model-like poise that immediately commanded attention. Her skin was deep, rich ebony, her features sculpted like those of a goddess—high cheekbones, full lips, and eyes that held both intelligence and warmth.

She was dressed in an elegant, yet practical ensemble—a tailored black jumpsuit from Gior that accentuated her long legs and slim waist. The fabric was sleek and modern, yet the cut was utilitarian, with pockets and adjustable straps that hinted at a more grounded, resourceful style. Her shoes were a simple, yet stylish pair of black ankle boots, practical for the busy day ahead.

As she stepped forward, she extended her hand, her smile warm and inviting. "You must be Miss Toussaint," she said in a smooth, melodic voice, her eyes twinkling with both curiosity and familiarity. "I'm Anaïs, the head designer for Gior's future design department. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

8:47 a.m. CET — Fourth Floor, Office of the Chief Designer, Future Design, Gior Flagship Store​

Locanda stepped into Anaïs's office, her eyes immediately drawn to the large windows overlooking the city below. The natural light filled the room, casting a warm glow over the space. It was a beautiful, tranquil setting. The office was well organized, despite the wealth of materials it contained. Mannequins dressed in cutting-edge designs stood in elegant poses, surrounded by piles of sketches, fabric swatches, and design books. Along the walls, framed images of Anaïs—at various prestigious fashion events—were displayed, showing her at the height of her modeling career, winning awards, and making her mark in the fashion world.

As the two women entered, Renata leaped out of Loconda's arms and climbed into the windowsill and peered out, her golden eyes gazing out across the city.

Anaïs smiled as she took a seat at her desk, gesturing toward the plush chair opposite her. "Please, take a seat, Locanda," she said warmly. "Renata's welcome to roam as she pleases."

Locanda sat quickly, looking around in awe at the space. Anaïs leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping lightly on the desk as she spoke. "I wasn't always a designer, you know. I used to be a supermodel," she said with a slight chuckle, her eyes glinting. "Before all this, I studied at the Istituto di elevata arte di Parma" She paused for a moment, the weight of her words sinking in. "It's a school that's often considered the unofficial rival to the Academy of Advanced Arts."

Loconda nodded, her curiosity piqued by the mention of a rival institution.

"The Institute of Elevated Arts is known for its fierce competition," Anaïs continued. "They focus on cutting-edge design, while the Academy of Advanced Arts, as you will come to realize, holds a more traditional approach to fashion and resonance. The institute was a bit more… experimental."

The two women shared a look, and Anaïs smiled as she gestured to the room around them. "There are three Gior stores in Italy. The store you're in now is the companies' original flagship store. It is made up of 7 levels and three departments," she said. "The first is our Classic Design Department, where we focus on recreating traditional Gior pieces for both mass production and limited-edition releases. The second is our Clientele Couture department, which caters to high-level clients, designing exclusive, one-of-a-kind pieces for major events."

She paused, her voice becoming more animated as she explained her own department. "And the third department—the one I oversee—is Futura Creazione, or Future Design. This is where we push the boundaries of fashion. It's where innovation meets tradition, where we explore new ideas and push the boundaries of what's possible."

Anaïs then leaned forward, her eyes locking with Locanda's. "Now that you're enrolled in the Havocy program, you'll be interning with me in your spare time. You'll learn how to integrate resonance with fashion design, creating pieces that are not only beautiful but innovative, pushing fashion into new territories."

Locanda's mind whirled at the prospect. Studying under such a renowned designer was a privilege, one she knew would bring immense responsibility and towering expectations—but it was also the dream she had carried in her heart for as long as she could remember.

Anaïs continued, her voice softening as she spoke about her connection with Locanda's aunt. "Your aunt, Acadia, was a huge inspiration for this department. She was part of the Clientele Couture Department, but she was the one who set the wheels in motion for Futura Creazione. I worked closely with her when she was here, and though she's been gone for some time, her influence still shapes our work today."

Anaïs studied Loconda thoughtfully. "I've seen your work from the spring fashion show in New York, and I believe you have the potential to surpass even your aunt's designs. Your style is distinct, and I think you'll thrive here."

Loconda remained silent, absorbing Anaïs's words. Flattered, yes—but still uncertain.

"Now," Anaïs leaned forward, her tone shifting to business. "Your summer internship at Gior comes with three roles. First, you'll assist various design teams in preparing products for the fall line. We always work a season ahead. Right now, we're finalizing summer for mass production."

She slid a dress across the table, one Loconda instantly recognized.

"Wait… how do you have this?" Loconda asked, her voice sharp with disbelief. "This was part of my collection."

Anaïs's lips curled into a small, knowing smile. "Mrs. Gior purchased a few of your pieces at the show. Vivian was quite impressed, so she sent them to us for analysis." She gestured to the intricate patterns on the dress's shoulders. "Here, you unknowingly sewed in a defensive frequency—a resonance shield, if you will. What you might have seen as decorative stitching actually emits protective energy."

Loconda stared at the dress, her mind racing. "I—I didn't even know that was possible."

"Precisely," Anaïs said, leaning forward. "Your work shows natural talent—something that runs in your family. It's not just technique; it's instinct. Your second role will be to master resonance. Few designers can use resonance, and even fewer can embed energy into fabrics. Yet, your work shows you already have this gift— without realizing it."

I was just mimicking my aunt's techniques. I always loved her dresses.

Anaïs's expression warmed, though her eyes remained sharp. "Beautiful work. But to be honest, when I first saw your designs, I doubted someone so young could create something this advanced. I even suspected Acadia might've been in New York herself. But when Mrs. Gior showed me the newspaper—and mentioned you were her niece—it all clicked. Your aunt's talent isn't just learned; it's inherited."

She leaned back, her expression turning solemn. "This brings me to your third role. You'll assist in our investigation to uncover cursed objects tied to your aunt and a few other Gior designers accused of practicing dark arts. I realize this is a sensitive matter, and we'll discuss it in greater detail later. But before we conclude today, I need to ask—when was the last time you spoke with Acadia? Please understand that anything you share will also be shared with the fashion house."

Loconda thought carefully before answering. "The last time I heard from her was about a month ago, when I received a letter from her. She invited me to Milan, but at the time, I didn't think much of it. I wasn't planning on leaving New York and she had sent several invitations in the past."

Anaïs nodded, her expression thoughtful. "That was probably the last message she sent before disappearing."

Loconda's heart tightened. "What will

happen to her when she's found?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry.

Anaïs's expression darkened slightly as she stood up and walked over to Renata, who was still gazing out the window. She gently petted the cat before picking her up and handing her to Loconda. "Acadia will likely face judgment from the Council of Resonance. They're a governing body set up by the European Union to oversee the use of resonance and dark arts. If she's found guilty, she'll be prosecuted for her dark arts practices."

Loconda's heart sank, but she kept her composure, her gaze drifting to Renata cradled in her arms. For a moment, words escaped her, until a question formed in her mind. "Will the church really permanently block my use of resonance if I fail the Havocy program?"

Anaïs paused, her expression sobering. "Yes, they will." She then escorted Loconda to the office door and offered her final instructions. "You'll have a few hours to yourself before lunch. When you're ready, head to the dining room on the seventh floor."

As they stepped into the hallway, Anaïs gestured to the elevator and smiled. "It was a pleasure meeting you Mr. Toussaint and I looked forward to our first sessions together. Try to enjoy your time before the next chapter of your journey begins."

01:15 p.m. CET — Corso Venezia, Gior Flagship Store, Milan Fashion District, Italia

Loconda stepped out of the grand doors of the Gior flagship store, her gaze scanning the busy Milan street. A sleek black car was waiting, parked along the curb. Vivian, Sofia, Otto, and David stood next to it, and Vivian gave a nod toward Otto. He began to load Loconda's new designer luggage into the trunk of the car—impeccable creations for her stay in the mountains.

Vivian stepped forward, a reassuring smile on her face. "Loconda," she said warmly, "you're about to embark on a new adventure. I know it won't be easy, but I have no doubt that you're up for the challenge. And remember, you can always reach out to me, at any time."

With that, she gave Loconda a gentle hug and a kiss on the cheek, wishing her well.

Otto opened the back door of the car for Loconda, and she climbed in, Renata jumping in beside her. David took his seat in the passenger seat, while Otto climbed behind the wheel. As the car pulled away, the engine hummed to life, and the vehicle disappeared into the morning traffic.