The turquoise moonlight fell across the empty road, and silence settled over them.
Alucent knelt in the dirt where he had fallen, his hands braced against the ground and his head bowed. Every breath sent pain lancing through his cracked ribs. The left side of his face had swollen to the point where he could barely open that eye. Blood had crusted along his chin and the collar of his grey frock coat, and his long curly hair hung in damp strands across his forehead, matted with sweat and dirt.
I can at least rest now, he thought. It's over. For now.
The relief hit him so hard it made him dizzy. He stayed there on his knees, breathing through his mouth, tasting copper and dirt.
But the relief did not last.
He's coming back.
The thought cut through the haze, cold and sharp. Tyranix had said it himself. When I return, I expect you to have improved. If not, you'll be the first to die.
So, what I need to do is advance to Thread 4 Goldscribe. But for now, my main focus is to pass Acceptance phase of Thread 3. I need—
His ribs ground against each other as he shifted, and the pain scattered his thoughts. He gritted his teeth and stayed still.
Twenty feet away, Raya lay on the ground with Gryan's body still pressed against her chest.
Her arms had not loosened since the fight began. Her fingers clutched the sleeve of his coat, gripping the fabric so tightly her knuckles had gone white. Her chestnut hair had come completely undone, falling across her face and shoulders in tangled waves. Her hazel eyes were fixed on Gryan's face.
He was still smiling. That wrong, proud smile.
Is it over for him? she thought. Whatever Tyranix did, is it permanent and he's gone? Seems I've lost him.
Then the smile faded.
It happened slowly. The corners of Gryan's mouth relaxed. The muscles in his face eased. The expression shifted from that hollow pride into something neutral. Something normal. His eyes blinked once, twice, and the unfocused emptiness in them began to clear.
Raya's breath caught.
"Gryan?" Her voice cracked on his name. "Gryan, can you hear me?"
His brow furrowed. His mechanical arm twitched at his side, the rune-lines flickering faintly before stabilizing. He turned his head toward her voice, and his eyes found her face.
"Raya?" His voice was rough. Confused. "What... where..."
The tears spilled down her cheeks, cutting fresh tracks through the dirt. She did not release him. Her fingers clutched his sleeve even tighter, as if he might vanish again if she let go.
"You're back," she whispered. "You're back. You're okay."
Gryan moved away from her, sitting up slowly on the ground. His right hand rose to rub his forehead, pressing against his temples. The mechanical arm hung at his side, joints clicking faintly as they recalibrated.
"Yes," he said, and his voice was uncertain. As though he was searching. "I... think I'm fine."
He paused. His brow furrowed deeper.
"What happened?"
---
Joy stood by the cart, her torn veil hanging loose against her face.
The trembling had stopped. Her composure had returned. But beneath that calm, something had shifted. Something had cracked open that could not be fully closed again.
We survived, she thought. My training and mastery. It was enough to drive him back. Although it couldn'tdefeathim, but it was enough.
She looked at Alucent, still kneeling in the dirt. The blood on his chin. The swelling on his face. The way his shoulders shook with every labored breath. He needs help.
She walked toward him, her boots clicking softly against the dirt road. When she reached his side, she bent down and offered her hand. "Can you stand?"
Alucent looked up at her. His blue eyes were bloodshot, the whites stained with burst vessels. His face was pale beneath the sweat and grime. He stared at her hand for a moment.
Then he gripped it.
She pulled him to his feet. He swayed immediately, his legs unsteady, and she stepped closer and slipped her arm around his waist. He leaned into her with most of his weight, heavier than she expected, and she could feel the heat of his body through the fabric of his coat.
"Slowly," she said. "One step at a time."
They made their way toward Raya and Gryan. Alucent limped heavily, wincing with every breath. His cracked ribs ground against each other with each step, and the pain made his vision blur at the edges. Joy kept her arm around him, steady and firm.
When they reached the others, Alucent lowered himself to the ground with a grunt of pain. Joy sat down beside him. For a moment, no one spoke.
Gryan was still rubbing his forehead. Raya had not moved from her position beside him, her fingers still clutching his sleeve.
"What happened?" Gryan repeated, looking at each of them. "The last thing I remember is... I attacked. I swung at where I thought he was standing. But there was nothing there."
Raya's voice was soft. "You tried to come back. I called out to you. But before you could retreat..." She paused and swallowed. "Something happened. You stopped, and then you started smiling."
Gryan's hand stilled on his forehead. "Smiling?"
"That wrong kind of smile." Raya's voice cracked. "You looked proud. Happy. You didn't respond when I called your name. You didn't respond to anything."
Gryan stared at her. His expression shifted from confusion to something darker.
"I don't remember any of that," he said slowly. "I remember... I felt a hand on my shoulder. Warm, Soft. And then a voice, it was Tyranix's voice."
He paused. His jaw tightened.
"He said, 'I'm glad you think you could try to hurt me.'"
He rubbed his forehead harder, pressing his palm against his skull.
"After that, everything went blank. My mind was racing. But not in a bad way. It felt... good. I felt excited. Proud. Confident." His voice dropped lower. "As if what he said was truly something to be proud of. As if I had accomplished something incredible by trying to attack him."
Silence fell over the group.
Alucent felt the fear rise in his chest again.
This is Emotional inversion. He turned Gryan's anger into pride, he could do that? One touch and a sentence that was all he needed? Gryan didn't even know it was happening.
If he can do that...
He did not finish the thought.
"We didn't see any of it," Raya said. Her voice was hollow. "It happened so quickly. One moment you were standing there. The next you were smiling. We didn't see him touch you. We didn't see anything."
Gryan looked at his mechanical arm and flexed the metal fingers slowly. The rune-lines pulsed faintly. "The Folly Threadweave," he said. "is that what he called it?"
"Yes," Joy said. Her voice was quiet but steady. "A Threadweave I have never encountered. Never studied. Never even heard of before tonight."
She paused. Something flickered across her features.
"Once I reach Runepeaks, I will study everything the archives contain about other Threadweaves. If Folly exists, there must be records. There must be documentation."
Her gloved hands tightened in her lap.
"Folly can be this dangerous and twisted," she said, and her voice dropped lower. "I cannot imagine what else exists out there."
Raya nodded slowly. Her hazel eyes were still fixed on Gryan's face. Then she looked up at Joy, and her expression shifted into something harder.
"Teach me," she said.
Joy blinked. "What?"
"Teach me to be a Threadweaver." Raya's voice was firm now, the hoarseness fading beneath the steel. "I can't keep relying on my speed and my weaveblade. Tonight proved that. I was useless. I couldn't help Gryan. I couldn't even help Alucent. I just knelt there in the dirt and watched."
Her jaw tightened, and the scar on her cheek pulled taut.
"I don't know why I'm not a Threadweaver already. I should have started years ago. But I need to learn now, before the next enemy comes."
Gryan shifted beside her.
His mechanical arm clicked softly. "She's right," he said. His voice was rough. "I need it too. If I had any ability to resist what Tyranix did to me... any training in mental defense..." He shook his head. "I was helpless. Completely helpless."
Joy looked at both of them. Her blue eyes were steady behind the torn veil.
"It is not an easy task," she said carefully. "The Threadweave demands sacrifice. Discipline. Years of training to master even the basics."
She paused, and her gaze shifted to Alucent.
"You will not be fast," she continued. "Not the way Alucent was. Advancing from Thread 1 Runeling to Thread 3 Silverline in three months..." She shook her head slowly. "That is not normal. That should not be possible. If we survive this journey and reach Runepeaks, Alucent and I will need to have a genuine conversation about how that happened."
Raya and Gryan both looked at Alucent.
He sat hunched forward, his arms wrapped around his cracked ribs. His pale face was streaked with sweat and blood. His long curly hair hung across his forehead in damp strands.
Then he looked up.
His blue eyes met Joy's through the torn veil. Sweat and blood mixed on his face. For the first time, he did not look away.
"If I'm being honest," he said. His voice was quiet. Rough with exhaustion. "And if you can be trustworthy... I'll tell you something later."
Joy waited.
"About the three months, about how I advanced so quickly." He paused and his jaw tightened. "I don't truly know how it happened either."
The words hung in the air.
Joy studied his face for a long moment. Then she nodded slowly.
"We can discuss it at Runepeaks," she said. "For now, we need rest."
She looked around at the empty road. The dark trees. The silent forest stretching away on either side. The turquoise moonlight fell across everything in pale bands.
"We should find a clear place to set up camp," she said. "Somewhere sheltered, somewhere defensible."
She glanced at Gryan and Raya.
"Can you both walk?"
Gryan tested his legs, pushing himself up from the ground with his mechanical arm bracing against the dirt. His movements were stiff, uncertain, but he managed to stand. "I can walk," he said.
Raya rose beside him. Her hand still rested on his sleeve. "So can I."
Joy nodded. Then she turned to Alucent.
"When camp is set," she said, and her voice softened slightly, "I will tend to your wounds."
Alucent looked at her. His face was pale, his eyes were bloodshot, body was broken and battered.
But something in his expression had steadied.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
Joy extended her hand.
He took it.