Ch - 1

Chapter 1: The Unwoven Thread

Liora had spent her life watching the Celestial Loom, but she had never imagined she would stand beneath it alone, past curfew, with its golden threads whispering in the air like strands of captured starlight.

The Loom hovered at the heart of Velnara, an intricate web of silver filaments stretching into the endless sky. Every thread carried the fate of a living soul, shifting and shimmering as choices were made. The Master Weavers claimed that only they could decipher its patterns, but Liora suspected even they did not fully understand its secrets.

Tonight, however, she was not here to admire it. She was here because of a mistake.

The parchment in her hands trembled as she unrolled it, revealing a constellation of inked lines and symbols she had never seen before. It was a record from the archives—one she should not have found.

She had been tasked with retrieving a ledger for Master Gavrin, but in her haste, she had pulled the wrong tome from the shelf. Instead of a list of past Weavers, she had found a page scrawled in luminous script, old as time itself.

-An unwoven thread waits to be found.-

The moment she read the words, the air had changed. A thread had flickered in the Loom, pulsing erratically, as though it did not belong.

Now, standing before it, Liora hesitated. Most threads gleamed with vibrant color, shifting with the choices of the souls they represented. But this one… this one was different. It was frayed at the edges, its light dim, as though it had been forgotten by the Loom itself.

She took a shaky breath. No apprentice was permitted to touch the threads. Only the Masters were granted that right. But the words in the book had led her here, and something deep inside whispered that she was meant to see this.

Before she could reconsider, she reached out.

The moment her fingers brushed the thread, the Loom shuddered.

A gust of energy surged through the chamber, sending the threads quivering like startled birds. Liora staggered back as a rush of images flooded her mind—glimpses of unknown lands, shattered constellations, a storm of unraveling threads. The Loom groaned, the vast silver structure trembling as if resisting an unseen force.

A voice—ancient and distant—echoed in her ears.

"The Loom is fraying. The pattern is breaking."

Then, the world shattered.

A brilliant light engulfed her, and the chamber of the Loom vanished. Wind roared in her ears, and for one heart-stopping moment, she felt weightless—falling through an endless void.

Then—impact.

Liora gasped as she hit solid ground, the air driven from her lungs. She lay still for a moment, blinking against the dizzying sensation of displacement. The scent of rain and damp stone filled her nose.

Slowly, she pushed herself up, her hands scraping against rough stone. The smooth marble floors of the Loom’s chamber were gone. Instead, she found herself in an open space, surrounded by towering pillars that rose into a sky she did not recognize. The stars above were strange, arranged in constellations she had never seen.

Panic coiled in her chest. Where was she?

She turned sharply at the sound of footsteps.

A figure stood at the edge of the ruins, watching her with sharp silver eyes.

They were dressed in layered robes of midnight blue, embroidered with shifting constellations that seemed to move as they walked closer. Their expression was unreadable, but their voice, when they spoke, was steady and certain.

"You shouldn't have pulled that thread."

Liora’s breath caught. "Who are you?"

The stranger studied her for a moment before answering. "Someone who has been waiting a long time for this."

Liora swallowed, glancing around again. "Where am I?"

The stranger tilted their head slightly. "Not where you should be."

That was not an answer.

Liora forced herself to stand, ignoring the lingering dizziness. "I—" she hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "I was at the Celestial Loom. There was a thread… it didn’t belong. I touched it, and then—" She gestured around her. "This happened."

The stranger nodded, as if unsurprised. "The Loom sent you here because you disrupted its pattern. And now, you're part of something much older than you understand."

Liora's heart pounded. "Older than the Loom?"

The stranger's gaze darkened. "Older than Velnara itself."

Silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant sound of wind sweeping through the ruins.

Liora clenched her fists, trying to steady her racing thoughts. She had been training for years to become a Weaver, to study the Loom’s patterns and preserve its balance. But now, standing in an unfamiliar place with an unknown stranger, she realized something terrifying.

For the first time in her life, she could not see the thread of her own fate.

And that meant she was truly lost.

END OF CHAPTER 1

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