Chapter Thirty-Three – The Tether Between Us

We walked for hours beneath the crimson-stitched sky, each step heavier than the last. The silence between the three of us wasn't hollow—it was full. Brimming with questions we weren't ready to ask out loud. The forest shifted as we moved through it, branches leaning closer, shadows whispering truths we hadn't earned.

The world wasn't the same.

Not after the Threadforge.

Not after me.

Riven kept pace beside me, his hand never far from his blade. Kael walked behind, his staff now wrapped with vines that glowed faintly—magic reacting to the change in the Weave. The air was thick with energy. With intention.

We were being watched.

I felt it in my spine.

"There's something I don't understand," I finally said, breaking the silence. "That Threadwraith… it called me a mistake. It said I would unmake the tapestry. But the scroll—The First Thread—chose me. Why would the same magic that created the Threads try to destroy me?"

Kael hesitated. "Because not all threads were meant to be pulled."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I have," he said quietly. "You're… different, Sera. Not just a Weaver, not just a Threadborn. The magic that lives in you is older than the divisions. Older than the looms. Maybe even older than the Tapestry itself."

Riven grunted. "Fantastic. So we're traveling with a mythical weapon we don't understand. What could possibly go wrong?"

I tried to laugh, but it stuck in my throat.

Because I felt it, too.

The danger wasn't just outside of me. It was within. A thread tangled too tightly, a flame that might burn too brightly. And if I lost control…

Would I still be Sera?

Would I even still be human?

A rustle in the bushes made all three of us stop.

Then a girl stepped into view—no older than twelve, cloaked in black and silver, eyes glowing faint blue like moonlit frost.

She raised a hand, palm glowing with a symbol that matched the ones on my skin.

"You shouldn't be alive," she said simply. "But you are. So now… we have to choose. Save you—" her voice trembled, "—or stop you."

Behind her, more figures emerged. Teenagers. Children. All cloaked. All bearing ancient runes.

Kael inhaled sharply. "Threadborn sentinels. From the Lost Temple."

"But… they disappeared centuries ago," Riven whispered.

"Not disappeared," the girl replied. "We were hidden. Preserved. Waiting for her."

She pointed at me.

My heart thundered.

The magic inside me pulsed once, then steadied.

"I'm not here to destroy," I said.

"But that's what all the others said," she murmured. "Before they broke."

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