THREADS OF LIGHT

The void surged like a tidal wave, its shadowy tendrils coiling and snapping toward Mildred with relentless ferocity. Her shard blazed, casting a pale, golden light that illuminated the churning abyss around her. Every breath felt heavy, as if the air itself sought to drag her into the depths.

"Focus," Mildred whispered to herself, planting her feet firmly. She raised her hands, drawing on the Loom's energy. Threads of light spiraled out from her shard, weaving patterns in the air that shimmered like a fragile tapestry.

The figure stood motionless, their gaze fixed on Mildred. "You cannot fight the void. It is endless. It will tear your light apart."

Mildred didn't waver, her voice steady. "Maybe it's endless, but it's not invincible. If this realm can sever itself, then it can be stitched back together."

The void lashed out, a jagged mass of shadow hurtling toward her. Mildred thrust her arms forward, the woven threads forming a barrier. The impact sent a shockwave rippling through her, but the light held firm.

"You're resisting," the figure murmured, their voice tinged with disbelief. "No one resists the void for this long."

Mildred gritted her teeth, sweat beading on her brow. "I'm not like the others. The Loom isn't just a source of power—it's a part of me. And I won't let this realm fall."

The shard pulsed, and more threads emerged, intertwining to form intricate patterns. They reached outward, latching onto the surrounding darkness. Mildred could feel the void's resistance, a force both ancient and unyielding, but she pushed forward.

"You're trying to bind it," the figure said, their tone a mix of awe and fear. "Do you even know what you're doing?"

"No," Mildred admitted, her voice strained. "But that's never stopped me before."

The threads began to glow brighter, their light cutting through the void like blades. The darkness recoiled, its movements more erratic now, as if sensing a threat it hadn't anticipated.

The figure stepped closer, their form trembling. "If you fail, it will devour everything—including you. Are you willing to risk that?"

Mildred turned her gaze toward them, her determination unwavering. "I have to. If I don't, who will?"

For a moment, the figure seemed to falter, their flickering light growing steadier. Then, with a deep breath, they extended their hand. From the shadows surrounding them, a faint glow emerged—a remnant of the light they had once carried.

"I cannot restore the Loom," they said softly, "but I can lend you what remains of my strength."

Mildred hesitated before nodding. "Then let's do this together."

As their light joined hers, the threads multiplied, weaving faster and stronger. The void roared, its formless mass writhing in defiance. Mildred could feel the strain in her body, the pull of the abyss threatening to tear her apart.

"Hold on," she muttered, her grip tightening on the shard. "Just a little longer."

The figure's voice cut through the chaos. "Anchor it. Use the threads to bind the realm to the Loom once more."

Mildred nodded, channeling every ounce of energy she had left. The threads stretched outward, latching onto the remnants of the realm's broken essence. She could feel its pain, its longing to be whole again.

With a final surge of power, the threads snapped into place. The void let out a deafening shriek as the light pierced through it, fracturing its form. For a moment, everything was still.

Then, the darkness began to recede, pulled back into the woven tapestry that now glowed with renewed vitality. The shard at Mildred's chest dimmed, its energy spent, but the realm around her began to shimmer with life.

The figure stepped closer, their once-shadowed form now illuminated by the light. "You did it," they said, their voice filled with quiet wonder. "You restored the thread."

Mildred swayed on her feet, exhaustion threatening to pull her under. "It's not perfect," she murmured. "But it's a start."

The figure nodded, their eyes softening. "Sometimes, a start is all we need."

As the realm began to rebuild itself, Mildred felt a strange sense of peace. The void was still there, lingering at the edges, but its hold had weakened. And for the first time, she felt hope—hope that even the darkest places could be mended.

"I'll come back," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "There's still more to do."

The figure smiled faintly. "Then we'll be here, waiting."

With a final glance at the renewed real

m, Mildred closed her eyes and let the Loom guide her home.

Mildred's eyes opened to the familiar hum of the Loom's nexus, its pulsing energy weaving in a slow, steady rhythm. The air here was warm, comforting, but her body still felt the chill of the void clinging to her. She staggered forward, her hand instinctively clutching the shard at her chest. Its once-blazing light was dim but still present, a reminder of what she had achieved—and what it had cost her.

"You're back."

The voice startled her. Turning, she saw Lysander, the senior Guardian, standing near the central pillar of the Loom's chamber. His usual stoic expression was softened by an edge of concern.

Mildred nodded, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "The thread is restored. The realm isn't fully healed, but it's connected again."

Lysander's brows furrowed, his gaze dropping to the shard. "You've drained almost all of its power. Mildred, you could've—"

"Failed?" she interjected, her tone sharper than she intended. "I know. But I didn't."

He studied her for a moment, then let out a heavy sigh. "You're reckless. Brave, but reckless. What did you encounter there?"

Mildred hesitated, the memory of the shadowed figure still vivid in her mind. "A remnant," she said finally. "Someone who chose to sever themselves from the Loom to survive. They helped me—what little light they had left."

Lysander's eyes widened slightly. "A remnant? I thought they were myths."

"They're not," Mildred said, her voice firm. "And they're suffering. That entire realm is still scarred from what happened. This isn't over, Lysander. The Loom may have reconnected the thread, but the void isn't gone. It's weakened, but it's still there, waiting."

Lysander's expression darkened. "The void's hunger is insatiable. It will keep probing, looking for weaknesses. Restoring one thread won't stop it."

Mildred stepped closer to the central pillar, her fingers brushing against the glowing strands that represented the Loom's intricate web of realms. She could see the newly restored thread, its light faint but steady, a fragile line amidst the vast tapestry.

"Then we find a way to stop it," she said, determination hardening her voice. "We can't keep patching the threads one by one. There has to be a way to confront the void directly."

Lysander shook his head. "Confront the void? That's madness, Mildred . The void isn't a being or a force you can defeat. It's... absence. A lack of existence itself. What you're proposing—"

"—is necessary," she interrupted. "If we don't, it's only a matter of time before another realm falls. Or worse, the void finds a way to reach the Loom itself."

Lysander fell silent, his gaze distant. When he finally spoke, his voice was low. "There's a reason no one has tried before. The void is older than the Loom. Older than the threads. We barely understand its nature, let alone how to combat it."

"Then we learn," Mildred said. "We explore the forgotten realms, seek out remnants, uncover the void's secrets. There has to be something out there—some fragment of knowledge we can use."

Lysander sighed again, rubbing his temples. "You won't let this go, will you?"

"No," Mildred replied. "Because if we don't fight for the Loom, no one will."

He nodded reluctantly. "Very well. But you won't do this alone. If you're going to challenge the void, we'll need the council's support. And the shards... you'll need more than yours to withstand what's coming."

Mildred smiled faintly, a spark of hope igniting in her chest. "Then let's get started."

As Lysander began issuing orders to the other Guardians, Mildred turned back to the Loom, her fingers brushing the newly restored thread. The void had tried to break her, but it had underestimated her resolve.

This was just the beginning.