The rain had become something Elia couldn't escape. It wasn't just falling from the sky anymore; it was inside her, like an extension of her soul, a constant companion whispering to her from the corners of her thoughts. She had felt it since the moment she held the umbrella—the pull of something larger, something she couldn't yet fully comprehend.
Vito hadn't been pleased when Elia told him she was going to the Heart of the City. She could see it in his eyes, the concern that danced like lightning behind his carefully composed expression. But he didn't stop her. In the end, he only gave her a small, crumpled map—a rough guide to navigate the forgotten pathways that led toward the city's deepest core.
"The Guild won't let you reach it without a fight," Vito had said, his voice low. "But you already know that, don't you?"
Elia nodded, though she wasn't entirely sure she did. The more she learned, the less she understood. What exactly was the Heart of the City? What was the source of the power she could feel growing inside her?
And more importantly—what had her mother been involved in before her disappearance? The pieces were starting to come together, but the puzzle was still too far out of reach.
With the map in hand and the umbrella pressed firmly against her side, Elia moved through the narrow, darkened streets, her steps steady despite the overwhelming weight of the rain. The city's heart was said to be hidden deep beneath layers of memory—older than the Guild itself, older than the current generations of citizens. It was the place where the city's earliest memories had been stored, preserved in the most ancient forms. And now, it was the place Elia needed to find.
As she passed through the market's edge, where forgotten relics were traded under flickering lanterns, the city seemed to grow darker, the buildings more twisted, as if they were wrapping themselves around her. The air felt charged, like the calm before a storm, and Elia instinctively quickened her pace. She had to reach the heart before the Guild did. She couldn't let them stop her.
Her journey took her into the forgotten districts—places abandoned by the city's inhabitants, where the walls were covered in layers of peeling paint, and the air smelled of mildew and dust. There were no more signs of life here. Just ruins, echoes of a past long gone, overshadowed by the present.
The streets narrowed further, twisting into alleys that seemed to disappear into themselves, the fog thickening the air. Elia's skin prickled as the rain began to fall harder, the droplets like needles against her skin, the umbrella's glass handle now faintly glowing in the dark. She could feel the presence of something watching her, something beyond the rain, beyond the city. The memories were waking up.
In the distance, she saw a shape—a figure, barely visible through the mist. It was a woman, standing alone beneath a ruined archway, her face hidden by a long, dark hood. Something about the figure felt strange, unsettling, like she was woven from the very fabric of the city itself.
Elia's heart raced. "Who are you?"
The figure didn't respond. Instead, she stepped forward, a slow, deliberate movement that seemed to disturb the very air around her. Elia felt an almost magnetic pull toward the woman, as if some invisible thread connected them.
"Why are you here?" Elia repeated, taking a cautious step closer.
The figure's eyes glowed faintly beneath the hood, like two dim lanterns in the dark. "I know what you seek," the woman finally spoke, her voice echoing like a whisper against the walls of the alley. "You have come for the city's memories. But be warned, child, they are not meant for you."
Elia stepped back, her grip on the umbrella tightening. "I have to know what happened to my mother," she said, her voice steady despite the uncertainty in her chest. "The Guild can't control what's mine. I won't let them."
The woman's eyes flickered with recognition. "Ah, yes. You are her daughter. The one they call the Weaver. She left a mark on this city, and now you carry it with you."
Elia felt a chill run through her, her breath quickening. "My mother? You know her?"
The figure nodded slowly, her face still obscured in shadow. "She was one of the last of the Memory Weavers. She understood the true power of the rain, the key to the city's heart. But she disappeared before her work was done. The Guild took her, and they tried to erase her."
Elia's heart hammered in her chest. This was it—the answers she'd been seeking. Her mother hadn't simply disappeared; she'd been hunted. And now, Elia was walking the same path.
"I don't have much time," Elia said, her voice firm. "The Guild is after me. They want the umbrella."
The woman's eyes seemed to soften for a moment. "The umbrella is a link to something far older than even the Guild. It is not just a tool, but a living memory. The Heart of the City is where its true power lies. It is the source of all the city's histories, its untold secrets. If you wish to survive, you must understand it. But be careful, for there is more than memory in the Heart. There is truth—and truth is a dangerous thing to carry."
Elia's mind reeled. The Heart of the City was more than a place—it was a power that could reshape everything. She didn't know if she was ready for what awaited her there, but one thing was clear—the Guild wouldn't let her reach it without a fight. They had already taken her mother, and now they were coming for her.
"Where is it?" Elia asked, urgency in her voice.
The woman tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "Follow the rain, child. It will guide you where you need to go. But remember—once you enter the Heart, there is no turning back."
Before Elia could respond, the woman disappeared into the mist, leaving only the faintest echo of her words behind.
Elia stood there, the weight of the journey pressing on her chest, her mind racing. The rain had begun to fall harder now, and the city seemed to shift, as if it were alive, its heart beating beneath her feet.
She had to move. She had to reach the Heart of the City. And she had to do it before the Guild caught up with her.