The morning sunlight filtered through the arched crystal windows of the Heart Spire, casting delicate rainbows across the floor of the Crystal Hall. Lena stood before the shimmering map of the Floating Isles—an ethereal model woven from light and magic, suspended above a wide silver pedestal. Threads of silver, gold, and blue pulsed gently across the isles like a living constellation.
But it was the darkened knot near the edge of the map—near Caelum—that drew her eyes.
The rift's presence. Growing. Twisting.
"We must move carefully now," Seris said, her voice as calm and firm as ever. "The Loom's pulse is weakening. And the Isles are starting to echo with unrest."
Lena turned to face her. "Echo?"
Seris gave a slow nod. "When the Loom destabilizes, it sends ripples—echoes—through the very fabric of the Isles. These echoes affect magic, memory, even time. Places begin to shimmer with fragments of the past."
Aiden stepped forward. "And if the echoes become too strong… the boundaries between now and then could blur."
Lena frowned. "Meaning?"
Seris's gaze grew heavy. "The past might bleed into the present. Moments that should be still might awaken again. And those who are lost could return… but not as they once were."
Lena's hands tightened around the edge of the pedestal. She looked back at the map. "Can we stop it?"
Aiden nodded slowly. "That's why we're here. Today, you'll begin learning what the echoes are showing us—and what the Loom is trying to warn us about."
Seris gestured for them to follow her through a tall, mirrored archway at the back of the Crystal Hall. It opened into a long corridor lined with floating lanterns and murals woven directly into the walls—scenes of Weavers bending light into bridges, shadow into vines, wind into song.
At the end of the hall, a tall double door shimmered with runes that pulsed faintly beneath their fingertips as Seris touched them. The doors opened silently.
Inside lay the Archive of Threads.
The space was vast and circular, with domed ceilings painted in constellations that shifted ever so slightly. Shelves spiraled along the walls, housing ancient scrolls, glowing books, and orbs that floated in soft patterns, humming with stored knowledge.
The heart of the room was a wide circular table. At its center floated an orb the size of Lena's head—translucent, wrapped in gold and violet strands that formed a constantly changing weave.
"This," Seris said, "is the Echo Core. It holds the recorded memories of the Isles. Every thread it spins is a moment in time—stored in the Loom's memory."
Lena stepped closer. Her pendant pulsed, resonating with the energy radiating from the orb.
"Touch it," Seris said gently.
Lena did.
The world blurred.
For a heartbeat, she felt herself being pulled through time—not physically, but in mind and heart. Images spiraled through her thoughts—Weavers standing before a Loom that sparkled like a newborn star… a woman with silver eyes chanting as a wave of shadow crashed against a barrier of light… and a young man—Kael—his hand outstretched, pleading with someone unseen.
Then the vision shifted again.
Lena stood—within the vision—in a field of floating starlilies. And her grandmother was there.
Lyra.
She was older than Lena remembered from childhood memories, but unmistakable. Her hair streaked with moonlight, her eyes fierce and kind.
"Lena," she whispered, though her lips did not move. "You must listen. The Loom is fraying. The echoes will lead you to what was lost… but only the tether can decide what remains."
Lena reached for her—but the vision dissolved like mist.
She staggered back from the orb, gasping.
Aiden caught her, steadying her with both hands. "Are you okay?"
Lena nodded, still breathless. "I saw her. My grandmother. She… she spoke to me."
Seris looked unsurprised. "The echoes sometimes call to bloodlines—especially those bound tightly to the Loom. Lyra left more behind than just her pendant. She left pieces of herself in the weave."
Lena's throat tightened. "She said the tether will decide what remains."
Aiden's eyes met hers. "That must be the resonance. The bridge between us."
"The prophecy," Lena whispered. "You said you found part of it."
He nodded. "A fragment. Hidden in the eastern annex. It read: 'When starlight touches salt and sky, and the bridge between hearts stirs awake, the worlds shall begin to unravel… unless the tether is chosen.'"
Seris moved toward a nearby shelf and retrieved a glowing scroll. She unrolled it on the table, revealing a delicate drawing of two figures—one woven from shadow, the other from light—standing beneath a cracked sky.
"This is what remains of the First Loom Prophecy," Seris said. "No one ever knew what it meant. Until now."
Lena traced the image. "If the tether is a connection between souls… between dimensions… then Aiden and I…"
"You are the tether," Seris said. "Or more accurately, your bond is. But such a connection comes with great risk."
Aiden's voice was soft. "We're pulling each other across realms. And that's changing the Loom."
"But we didn't choose this," Lena said, her voice rising with frustration. "We didn't ask for our lives to be… rewritten."
"No," Seris agreed. "But fate rarely asks permission. It only offers opportunity."
Silence settled between them.
Lena looked down at the silver strands wound around her pendant. The faint hum within it now echoed the orb's rhythm. She could feel something pulling inside her—like a thread gently tugging her toward something unfinished.
"What do we do next?" she asked.
Seris raised her hand, and a second orb floated forward from the shelf—a deep indigo hue glowing at its core.
"This is an older echo. One from the beginning of the rift. Watch."
She tapped the orb, and a projection burst forth above it, casting the room in silver-blue light.
They watched Kael, younger and uncertain, standing before the Loom in the Hall of Threads. Lyra stood opposite him, her face pale with grief.
"You're unraveling it," she said. "One thread at a time."
"I'm freeing it," Kael answered. "The Loom has been shackled for too long. I can feel its true power, Lyra."
"It's not meant to be wielded," she said. "It's meant to be listened to."
Kael stepped closer. "Then why does it answer me? Why does it sing when I touch the shadow?"
The vision faded.
Lena exhaled, shaken. "He really believed he was saving it."
"That's the danger of shadow," Seris said. "It doesn't lie. It reveals… but it twists. It shows truths without context. Power without consequence."
Aiden's eyes were dark. "And he's still listening to that song."
They stood in silence for a long moment, each absorbing the weight of what they had seen.
Then Seris said, "There is a place—the Isle of Echoes—where the Loom's memory is strongest. If you travel there, the weave may show you what was hidden. Perhaps even how the prophecy ends."
Lena looked between her mentors. "Then that's where we go."
Seris inclined her head. "We'll prepare the ship. You leave tomorrow at dawn."
As the sun dipped lower over the Isles, casting long shadows across the sky, Lena stood at the balcony of her quarters with Aiden. Below them, the lights of the Heart Spire twinkled like stars fallen to earth.
"You saw her," he said softly. "Your grandmother."
Lena nodded. "And she believes in me. That has to count for something."
Aiden turned toward her, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "It counts for everything."
Their hands found each other.
And as the sky deepened into twilight, the Loom pulsed faintly in the air between them—silver, gold, and shadow entwined.
The echoes of the past were awakening.
And the tether had chosen.