Threads That Wanders

Chapter 23: Threads That Wander

The mirrored cathedral faded behind them, swallowed by fog and shifting stone, as if the world wished to forget it existed. Selena led the way, eyes alert and voice silent. The mark on her palm burned faintly under her glove, the memory of the ancient tongue still echoing in her bones.

Eira hummed softly as they walked. The tune was strange and simple—childlike, but laced with an uncanny rhythm.

It froze Selena in her tracks.

"Where did you learn that?"

Eira smiled up at her. "You used to hum it when you were five. Before your uncle died. When you thought no one was listening."

Selena's skin prickled. She hadn't remembered the melody herself until this moment. A lullaby her mother once whispered. No one else had known.

Calder lagged behind, his fingers twitching near the edge of his sleeve. He didn't look at Eira, not directly. Her presence scraped something raw in him.

Loki, as usual, broke the tension.

"Well, now that we're properly creeped out, how about we get moving before time decides to skip a heartbeat again?"

He winked at Eira, but his eyes lingered on her too long. Watching. Calculating. Distrust curled beneath his charm like a knife beneath a smile.

They followed the tunnels out of the southern wall, but something had shifted in the weave of the city. Paths no longer led where they should. The bricks whispered names in voices not their own. At one corner, they passed a man standing motionless with ink running from his eyes. He did not turn as they passed.

"We're being herded," Calder said.

"Good," Loki replied. "Nothing worse than aimless destiny. At least this one's punctual."

They emerged into an abandoned district near the edge of the Carceran aqueduct. The sky overhead twisted with bruised clouds. Ruins lined the street, echoing the bones of forgotten homes.

Selena held up a hand. "Something's watching."

She was right.

From the shadows stepped creatures cloaked in tattered robes—skeletal and fluid, made from woven fog and bone-thread. They whispered in a language none could hear, only feel.

Eira tilted her head. "Memory Eaters. From the veil between. They want the feather."

They attacked.

The air cracked open as more poured in—dozens, surrounding them from rooftops and alleys, moving with unnatural speed. Their limbs moved like fractured clockwork, snapping into place, then twisting wrong again.

The first hissed through the air toward Selena. She threw up her hand, her mark flashing violet, and a wave of force exploded outward, shattering cobblestones and hurling the creature backward into a crumbling wall.

Another dove toward Calder. He spun, flame trailing from his fingers like burning silk, and with a growl, sent a jagged lance of fire into the beast's chest. It screamed, unraveling in smoke.

"There's too many!" Selena shouted.

"Perfect," Loki said, grinning. "I've always wanted an audience."

He vanished—only to reappear midair, balancing on a shadow creature's shoulder. He kicked off, flipping with absurd grace, and landed in the center of the pack. Illusions bloomed around him—ten, twenty, fifty copies, all moving differently, disorienting the enemy.

"Surprise!" each illusion cried in different tones, laughing. The Memory Eaters hesitated, snarling in confusion.

One lashed out at an image—only for Loki himself to strike from behind, blade flashing, cutting deep into its spine. It shrieked and collapsed.

Another leaped from behind. Without turning, Loki snapped his fingers, and a shimmering chain of light wrapped the beast midair, pulling it toward him. He spun and crushed it beneath his heel.

"That one was for the hair," he muttered.

Selena twisted, dodging a creature and lashing out with a whip of light. The whip wrapped around its throat, and with a word, she detonated the spell. Ash rained.

Calder screamed—not in pain, but power—and the flames around him burst into deep violet, lashing out in chaotic spirals. One by one, the creatures fell.

But more came.

Eira stood in the center, untouched. They didn't seem to see her. She stared at Loki.

"You've digested almost all of it," she said, calmly. "Ninety percent. Your next Sequence needs a truth you've been avoiding."

"Now's a bad time for therapy!" he barked, dodging a claw swipe.

"You'll know what it is when it tries to leave you," she said.

Loki ducked low, grabbed two daggers from his coat, and spun, slicing through a trio of Memory Eaters with a flourish. Their forms unraveled into screams.

Selena stood beside him now, blood on her sleeve, sweat in her hair.

"Still you?"

He met her gaze, chest heaving. "Always. Maybe. We'll see."

She didn't respond—but she didn't look away.

At last, the creatures faltered. The survivors slinked back into the shadows, whispering curses in languages no living soul had spoken in centuries.

Calder panted, smoke rising from his coat. "We need to move. Now. Before they come back."

"They will," Eira said. "And next time, they'll bring the one who remembers Loki's name from before he was born."

Loki blinked. "I had a name before this one?"

Eira smiled. "You still do. You just haven't earned it yet."

He laughed, breathless, and sheathed his blade.

"Well then," he said. "Let's find that truth. I'm tired of hiding."

Selena stared at him a moment longer.

She could already feel the storm he was pulling toward them.

And still, she followed.