The fire had burned low. Cass had fed it a few sticks before drifting into a half-sleep beside the others. There were no stars—just a void-like ceiling stretched endlessly above. Even the dying embers looked like borrowed light.
They didn't mark time in hours anymore. Not in this world.
Sleep came when it could. And for Silas, it never came easy.
He sat upright, stiff. The air tasted strange—like iron and dust. That humming feeling had returned, that same pull that came with the amulet... a subtle itch beneath the surface of his thoughts.
He closed his left eye.
And opened the thread-woven one.
The world tilted sideways. His vision blurred. His eye had barely begun healing from the last time. But he pushed the amulet's power again, ignoring the pain.
A lurch.
A string of silver light snapped into view.
Then—splinters. His eye burned, then bled.
Thick red dripped down his cheek, soaking his collar. He covered it quickly and blinked hard. The vision steadied. One silver thread floated ahead of him, pulled taut… being drawn forward.
All paths led the same direction.
He looked up.
At a nearby structure, nearly invisible in the gloom. A squat building, cracked at the base, partially swallowed by roots and ash. A forgotten place, maybe once sacred.
Silas stood quietly, thinking the others were asleep. His steps were soft. Controlled.
He didn't notice the eyes that followed him.
---
Velira stirred.
Not fully awake, but… not fully asleep either.
She opened one eye to see Silas walking away. The way he moved set off alarms in her chest. No word. No explanation. Just vanished into the dark.
She stood slowly, wrapping herself in her coat, and padded after him. Careful. Silent.
Behind her, Cass blinked awake.
Cass sighed, rising reluctantly, rubbing his temple. "Should've known."
---
The building was a library.
It had once been carved with sigils, though time and ruin had peeled most of them away. Shelves still stood, some crooked, some split. A layer of dust clung to everything. There was no mold—just dryness, like everything here had been drained of moisture long ago.
Silas stepped inside and immediately felt the silver thread dissolve in the air.
Like a compass reaching its destination.
He wandered between shelves, and a strange calm overtook him. His blood had stopped dripping, but his eye throbbed. It was different now—more blue than violet. Faint streaks of azure near the iris. Something was changing.
His fingers ran across old books. He found one that hadn't turned to dust and opened it gently.
Descriptions.
Of Paths.
---
> "Dark Path – also called the Path of Destruction. Its laws favor disintegration, consumption, and collapse. It exists where order has failed."
> "Water Path – the Path of Pressure. It adapts. Carves. Crushes. Water is never idle. Even stillness is a force."
> "Light Path – the Path of Revelation. Pure order. It strengthens structure, illuminates truth, and resists decay."
> "Fate Path – Uncharted. Records suggest interference with probability threads and 'intention shaping.' Few survive long under its weight."
"Disadvantage – Fate destabilizes the soul and the mind. Users may be detached from reality over time."
"The only recorded counterbalance: the Luck Path. No known users survive beyond Learner."
Silas exhaled slowly. Thread Theft… Vision Thread…
Fate. Of course.
He closed the book gently, pressing his fingers to the edge of the page. His head buzzed. Not from fatigue—but from a strange clarity.
"…Found something?"
Silas turned sharply. Velira stepped into the light, arms folded.
She'd been listening for a while. Her boots crunched quietly on the dusty floor.
He didn't speak. Just nodded and handed her the Water Path text.
She took it, skeptical. "I knew you were hiding something. You always get this... weird grin when you find something valuable."
"It's not a grin," Silas muttered.
"It's totally a grin," another voice chimed in from behind a bookcase.
Cass.
Velira jumped. "Seriously?!"
Cass stepped into view holding a heavy, golden-edged book. "You're not stealthy. Either of you. I've been listening to you whisper about threads and pressure like two cursed philosophers."
Silas raised an eyebrow. "You stole a book."
"I borrowed it," Cass corrected. "Besides, it practically called my name."
He flipped it open.
"…Light Path," he added proudly. "Truth. Structure. Pretty poetic for a bunch of dead scholars."
Velira rolled her eyes and plopped down on the ground, flipping through her book. "So what now? Read until we pass out?"
Cass grinned. "I vote yes."
Silas didn't answer. He just leaned against a shelf and slid down until he was sitting too, the dark path book in his lap.
They all sat there for a while, in silence.
Just the sound of turning pages.
And maybe—for a brief moment—something like peace.