Chapter Thirty-Two – Ashes and Echoes

The word burned into the stone echoed louder in my mind than the Threadwraith's scream ever had.

Run.

But we didn't run.

Not yet.

Riven was the first to speak, his voice low and tense. "Someone—or something—left that message for us. It wasn't the Wraith. It came after."

Kael nodded grimly. "A warning from a survivor, or a watcher. Either way, they knew what you were going to do, Sera. They knew you'd touch the First Thread."

I stepped closer to the wall, brushing my fingers across the carved warning. The stone was still warm. The moment I touched it, a whisper slipped into my thoughts—not in words, but emotion. Desperation. Mourning.

Someone had died here.

Someone who loved.

Suddenly, the chamber didn't feel sacred anymore. It felt like a grave.

"We need to get out of here," I whispered. "This place is broken. And there's more coming."

As we ascended the spiral stairs, the light that had once followed us flickered and dimmed. The power of the Threadforge had faded. Or hidden itself.

Outside, the forest was eerily quiet. Even the wind had stilled.

But something had changed.

The sky, once blue and cloud-speckled, now churned with threads of crimson and silver. Not storm clouds—magic.

Kael shielded his eyes. "The Weave is shifting."

"What does that mean?" Riven asked.

"It means that Sera's awakening isn't just local," Kael said. "The entire continent will feel the ripple. Kingdoms that haven't believed in the Threads for centuries will be watching the skies again. And the ones that do believe… they'll come hunting."

Riven turned to me, voice sharp but worried. "You said you were ready for this. Are you?"

I met his gaze. Behind the fear, there was something fierce blooming in my chest. A purpose. A fire that couldn't be buried anymore.

"No," I said honestly. "But I'm not running from it either."

We traveled in silence, but my heart beat louder with every step.

Somewhere far ahead of us, the world was preparing to unravel.

And we were no longer just part of the pattern.

We were the ones who would rewrite it.

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