Chapter 50: Threads of Fire
The wind howled outside Arcanwyn's towering spires, and the very stones of the academy seemed to shiver beneath its cry. Lila stood at the heart of the Council chamber, the dagger still glowing faintly in her grasp. Though the figure in midnight blue had vanished into light, their presence lingered like a shadow unseen but undeniable.
Her heart thumped like war drums in her chest. The words they had spoken wouldn't leave her mind:
"The judgment is already set. The punishment is clear."
What punishment? What judgment? She had unraveled one secret only to find a dozen more knotted in its place.
The Council members began to murmur among themselves, but no one approached her not even Professor Solas, whose gaze had shifted from stern to unreadable. Niall stood protectively at her side, his arm brushing hers as if tethering her to reality.
Then came the sound.
A low, rhythmic thrum. Not magic. Not wind.
A heartbeat.
But not hers.
It echoed through the walls of Arcanwyn. Through the halls. Through the sky itself.
Lila's eyes widened. "It's the Threads…"
The Threads of Fire rumored to be a final line of defense woven by the founders of Arcanwyn awakened only when the school faced its greatest threat. They weren't just magic. They were living flame, ancient and wild, hidden beneath the roots of the Academy.
The thrum grew louder, and the ground beneath their feet turned warm.
"Everyone out," Solas finally commanded. "Now!"
But Lila stood still. The Threads were calling her.
She looked to Niall, his jaw clenched. "I have to go," she whispered.
"I'm coming with you," he said without hesitation.
The others fled the chamber, but the two of them turned inward toward the hidden staircase beneath the Council's dais, a path only Keepers knew.
As they descended, the walls changed no longer smooth stone, but scorched, layered obsidian that pulsed with ancient sigils. The air thickened. Firelight danced with no visible source.
And then they saw it.
The Threads.
They hung in the air like molten veins, swaying gently as if breathing. Orange, gold, and deep crimson twisted in an impossible pattern braiding, separating, converging. They stretched into a dark void, too vast to comprehend, their ends fading into eternity.
Lila stepped forward, transfixed.
"This is what binds the Creatures," she said, her voice hushed. "What holds them from spilling into our world. The Court… they want to break it."
"And you're the only one who can stop it," Niall said.
A strand unraveled before her eyes and turned black.
No. No, no, no.
They were failing.
She reached for one, ignoring the heat. The moment her fingers touched it, she was pulled in.
Memories.
Worlds.
Flashes of the Forbidden Creatures trapped in realms of shadow, clawing at the walls of their prisons.
A voice echoed in her mind.
"Bind them… or become them."
She saw herself—eyes blazing, wings of ember unfurled. A monster. A goddess. Both.
She screamed.
Niall pulled her back, her skin glowing like coal. Her breath came in gasps.
"It's choosing," she said. "The Threads are choosing."
"Choosing what?"
"Whether to destroy me or crown me."
The Threads of Fire twisted once more.