The Threadbound series : Unraveling

Dreams are real, While they last

Frin

Ma lit up a Veil lantern to chase away the darkness that shrouded our modest home. Though she wasn't born into nobility, she carried herself with an air of aristocracy, perhaps owing to her life as a scholar. Ma was an ardent lover of history, politics, and stories.

"It's not your fault, Frin. You can't save everyone," she said softly, her hand gently caressing my face.

I looked into her brown eyes, which mirrored my own. Today, amid the black strands that were kept neatly in a bun, there were hints of gray hair. Her touch, always comforting, seemed to sear my skin, and my eyes threatened to betray my facade.

"Pull yourself together, Frin," I admonished myself silently. I couldn't afford any lapses in my concentration, especially not now. I focused on the dream threads, ensuring that the illusion remained intact. However,when I reached for Ma, she began to fade into the faded ornate patterns of the wallpaper in my cold dark bedroom.

Maybe I should focus on a happy memory. I let out a deep breath and concentrated.

In the serene quiet of our home, I lay beneath my cozy blankets, my wide eyes fixed on my mother. The soft glow of the Veilbound Protectress lantern cast a gentle, comforting light across the room, painting the world with warmth and wonder.

"Ma," The five year old me murmured, my voice barely louder than a breath, "can you tell me how magic works?"

Her eyes sparkled with maternal love and scholarly passion as she settled beside my bed. Her raven-black hair cascaded gracefully over her shoulders as she tucked a wayward strand behind her ear. "Of course, my dear," she replied, her voice a soothing melody. "Magic in our world is like that intricate tapestry woven by threads." She pointed to a tapestry on the opposite wall.

"Threads?" My curiosity intensified.

"Yes, my precious one," she continued, her tone laced with enchantment. "These threads, invisible yet very much real, are what we call the Veilwaves. They flow through everything, connecting all living beings, the land, and even the Veilborn entities, ancient spirits that watch over us."

My eyes widened, absorbing each word with rapt attention. "Veilborn entities? Are they the gods we worship?"

She nodded, her voice filled with reverence. "In a way, yes. They are beings of immense power and wisdom, akin to gods, and they shape the threads of our world, influencing the magic that flows through them."

My gaze remained locked onto my mother's, my wonder unquenchable. "But how do people use magic,Ma?"

Ma gestured with her hand, drawing an imaginary line in the air to represent the threads she spoke of. "When adolescents come of age, they undergo the Threadbound Awakening. For ten days, they face trials that test their affinities, their connections to specific threads."

"Trials?" My inquisitiveness deepened.

"Yes," she affirmed, "these trials are designed to discover a young person's connection to the threads. Those who exhibit affinities are chosen for the binding ceremony, where they are connected to their primary threads, bestowing upon them magical abilities."

Excitement glittered in my eyes. "What kinds of affinities are there,Ma?"

She illustrated with her hand, each finger symbolizing a different thread. "There are many, my dear. Threads of Life, Emotion, Elements, and more. Each thread grants unique powers. For example, a Life thread affinity can make one a healer, while an Emotion thread affinity might endow easing pain and manipulating emotions."

I pondered this, my imagination ignited by the possibilities. "What if someone doesn't have any affinities?"

Her expression softened as she caressed my cheek. "Not having affinities is not rare, but it's not a limitation. Those without affinities often become scholars like me, or they can pursue other professions."

A shadow passed over my young face, a solemn thought tugging at my heart. "Was my Fathera veil weaver, Ma?"

Her eyes held a hint of sorrow. "Your father, my love, was a brave soul. But he... no, he was not a Veilweaver."

My gaze shifted downward, my thoughts lost in the memory of my late father. A poignant silence enveloped us, a shared moment of remembrance and loss.

My determination resurfaced, and I met my mother's gaze with unwavering resolve. "I want to bind to the Life thread, Ma. I want to be a healer and help the people in our realm."

Mas brows furrowed in gentle contemplation. "That is a noble choice, my dear.May I ask y?"

I shook my head, my determination unwavering. "Ma, most people want to be Threadhuntersand all they do is fight. Life thread people can heal, mend, and even manipulate. Don't you always say 'brains before brawn'?" I tapped my temple with a small, proud smile.

Ma chuckled softly and ruffled my hair affectionately. "Indeed, I do, my clever son. Your choice is a testament to your wisdom. And protect that empathetic heart of yours. Always." She placed her hand on my heart, sealing our shared understanding and love.

As the illusion dissipated once more, I found myself strangely at peace.

Feeling a little adventurous, I decided to reach out to someone through the dream threads. I conjured an image of an almond-eyed woman with a stubborn frown etched on her face. In my mind's eye, I saw her standing on a steep precipice, peering down into the dark depths below.

"Are you going to jump?" I asked, my voice echoing in the space.

The woman abruptly snapped out of the trance she was in with a startled yelp.

"Threads and Looms!" she yelled.

Her balance faltered, and her eyes widened in alarm. In that heart-stopping moment, she lost her footing and let out a piercing scream.

And then she was falling.