"It's blinding!" he'd whined. "Nothing short of a miracle that I haven't died yet! Please, have mercy! I beg you!"
Exhausted but resigned, she'd woven a garment of magical energy for herself. This time, however, she'd incorporated a touch of mythril thread from her mother's heirloom harp, adding much-needed coverage to the fishing net base. Warmer than the perforated net, at least.

Fate/Lost Einherjar, Chapter 2