Episode 14: Threads of Sacrifice

The days that followed were a haze of tension and unanswered questions. Lyra could hardly bring herself to approach the loom. It seemed almost alive now, its hum persistent, as though it was trying to urge her to act.

Evelyne tried to guide her, but even she seemed unsure of how to help. Her usual confidence had given way to caution, and her silence only added to Lyra’s growing sense of isolation.

One night, Lyra found herself standing before the loom again. The threads shimmered faintly, their once vibrant glow dimmed. She could feel the weight of its demand pressing on her, the decision she couldn’t avoid.

“Why me?” she whispered, her voice breaking.

The loom responded not with words but with a subtle shift in the air. One golden thread flickered, drawing her attention. Lyra reached out, her fingers brushing against it, and suddenly, the room dissolved around her.

She was no longer in the attic. Instead, she stood in a small cottage, warm and inviting. A woman hummed softly as she stirred a pot on the stove. Nearby, a little boy sat on the floor, playing with a carved wooden horse.

Lyra recognized the thread she had touched. This was the life she had stabilized weeks ago. She watched as the woman smiled at the boy, her love for him clear in every movement. The scene was so ordinary, so beautiful in its simplicity, that it made Lyra’s chest ache.

But then, the edges of the vision began to fray. The warmth faded, replaced by a cold wind that swept through the cottage. The woman and child didn’t seem to notice as cracks began to form in the walls, spreading like spiderwebs.

“No,” Lyra whispered, reaching out. “Not them.”

The cracks grew, the scene unraveling before her eyes. The boy’s laughter faded, replaced by silence. The woman turned, her face etched with fear, but there was nothing she could do.

“Do you see now?”

The cloaked figure’s voice echoed around her. Lyra spun to face it, anger flaring in her chest. “Why are you showing me this?”

“Because this is the cost of inaction,” the figure said. “The threads you saved are bound to the loom. If it unravels, so do they. Their lives, their futures—they depend on your choice.”

Lyra’s hands clenched into fists. “You’re asking me to sacrifice a part of myself for something I barely understand. How is that fair?”

The figure’s voice softened. “It is not about fairness, Lyra. It is about balance. The loom exists to hold chaos at bay, but it cannot do so without a keeper. Someone must bear its burden. That someone is you.”

The vision faded, and Lyra found herself back in the attic, tears streaming down her face. Evelyne was waiting, her expression somber.

“You saw them, didn’t you?” Evelyne asked gently.

Lyra nodded, wiping her eyes. “The woman and her son. They’ll disappear if I let the loom fall apart.”

Evelyne placed a hand on her shoulder. “The loom shows you these lives for a reason. It wants you to understand what’s at stake.”

Lyra looked at her mentor, desperation in her eyes. “How can I make this choice, Evelyne? If I repair the loom, I lose a part of myself. But if I let it break, they lose everything.”

Evelyne’s voice was quiet but firm. “No one else can make this decision for you, Lyra. But whatever you choose, know that it will shape the world in ways we can’t predict.”

Lyra turned back to the loom, its threads shimmering faintly. She reached out, her fingers hovering over the golden strands. The hum grew louder, resonating in her chest, as if urging her forward.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. The choice wasn’t just about her—it was about everyone connected to the loom. The weight of their lives, their futures, rested in her hands.

And for the first time, she understood what it truly meant to bear the loom’s burden.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***