The Threadbound series : Unraveling

God is one of Us

Ash

Frost had formed on my eyelids, and each breath I exhaled turned into a visible puff of mist in the frigid air. As we stood atop the snow-covered peaks of Frostholme, I couldn't help but feel a shiver run down my spine. The world below was blanketed in a pristine layer of white, as far as the eye could see. Towering pine trees were adorned with a heavy coat of snow, their branches sagging under the weight. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a soft, golden light across the winter wonderland. In the distance, the jagged peaks of other mountains jutted out of the sea of snow, their outlines softened by the hazy, wintry atmosphere. Despite the biting cold, the view was undeniably beautiful, a serene and untouched wilderness that stretched out in all directions.

Naf, with her usual sarcasm, chimed in,

"You could have chosen somewhere we wouldn't freeze to death, but I have to admit, the view is truly breathtaking." Her words were punctuated with a touch of irony, emphasizing the word "breathtaking" as she shivered in the cold.

"Maybe next time, I will drop you in the Arcanara desert", I teased her.

Soon Sru and I fell in silence, watching intently as Naf took out the bone shards and began the summoning ritual. It was a daunting task, one that required immense effort, especially since the shards weakened her power. I could see her struggling, her breath growing heavier as she tried to overpower the limitations of the bone shards.

Sru, with her healing powers, stepped closer to Naf, offering her strength and support. The two of them worked together, weaving threads from the bone shards. The threads shimmered and sparkled, forming a spectral figure that materialized before us.

"Holy weaver!" Sru exclaimed, astonishment clear in her voice.

"What in the threads!" Naf shouted simultaneously, her surprise mirroring Sru's.

But as quickly as the specter had appeared, it began to fade, dissolving into the foggy air before our eyes. The tension in the room remained thick as we tried to comprehend what we had just witnessed.

"It wasn't a God who appeared before us," I finally said.

Naf, her expression grave, voiced what we were all thinking, "The God is one of us."

The revelation hung in the air, a heavy shroud of mystery and uncertainty.

"Ash, your rebel guy was telling the truth," Sru said with a tone of both affirmation and dread. "Bone Island is a grave—a murder site."

The implications of her statement were profound. It meant that the Veilweave Senate and the Elders had been keeping dark secrets hidden from the citizens of Milandor. We had stumbled upon a truth that could potentially shatter the foundations of our society.

Soon after that chilling realization, I portaled home to search for granny's pendant. I had to meet Hammett and ask him for more information.

As I held the violet stone pendant in my hands, memories flooded my mind. It was a cherished treasure, a symbol of the games and adventures Granny and I used to share. I remembered the treasure hunt games and the rewards she would give me, like this pendant.

"It is a veil pendant. It will help to create an illusion," she had told me when she first gave it to me. At the time, I had used it for harmless fun, like sneaking out of the house under my dad's nose by impersonating someone else. But Granny had a bigger purpose in mind for it.

One day, she asked me to use the pendant to become an agent of peace. She had created a persona for me—Elle, who acted as a mediator between her and the rebels. With the pendant's illusion, I played the role of a diplomat and worked to bridge the gap between the two sides. At first, the rebels were skeptical, but over time, I earned their trust. Rebel activities lessened, dialogues began, and hope for a better future emerged.

Granny had promised the rebels a brighter tomorrow, but she passed away before she could fulfill that promise. Only Sru and Naf knew about our secret rendezvous and my role as Elle. It was my way of understanding my people, learning their stories, and gathering valuable insights.

One of the stories I had heard during those meetings was about the Veilbinders—powerful individuals who were allegedly killed by the Veilweavers during the threadwars. Also there were rumors that murders took place in the midst of the threadbinding ceremony, all under the orders of the Premier and his trusted Elders.

I once asked Granny if the stories were true, if such atrocities had really occurred. She had simply smiled and told me, "There is no smoke without fire." Now, as I held the pendant in my hands, I couldn't help but wonder if the smoldering embers of those ancient grievances were igniting a fire that might consume us all.

I closed my eyes, and tears welled up, spilling down my cheeks. The weight of the truth, the burden of the past, and the enormity of the revelations crashed over me. I gasped for air, and then, unexpectedly, a manic laughter bubbled up from deep within me.

"Oh, you mastermind!" I exclaimed, my laughter both elated and despairing. "Thread weaves, Thread binds, and Thread unravels... as in Veilweavers and Veilbinders. You were leaving clues all along..Your entire life is a treasure hunt"

Suddenly, a knock echoed through my bedroom door, followed by my dad's familiar voice calling out, "Sashelle, you in there?" He knew that even though I do not visit him much, I occasionally portal into my old bedroom.

"Yes, dad," I replied, awaiting his next words.

A moment later, he said, "Join me downstairs for lunch."

Sara, our long-serving maid who had been with our family for years, was already at work. She had aged gracefully, with silver hair framing her kind face and her apron showing signs of wear and tear from countless meals prepared in our mansion's old kitchen.

"Hello, Sara," I greeted her warmly as she served me. Her presence brought a sense of comfort and nostalgia, and I missed her delicious cooking compared to the bland meals at the Academy.

"Hello, Sashelle. I've missed you being here," Sara said with a caring smile. " you staying full-time at the Academy now? Don't they feed you? You look like skin and bones."

"Yeah, I'm staying at the dorms," I replied, pushing aside any concerns about my appearance. I couldn't deny that I'd been neglecting meals lately, whether due to grief or the demanding Academy routine - I dont know.

As I tucked into the meal Sara had prepared, I couldn't help but appreciate the familiar tastes.

I continued to enjoy my meal, my dad inquired,

"How is your training with Hunter Sierra going on?"

I swallowed my bites to answer,

"We daily practice early in the morning and also in the evening."

He probed further,

"What about during the rest of the day? I thought you stopped taking classes for a while."

"Yes, but Naomi still takes classes," I replied, trying to convey that my mentor's schedule remained quite demanding.

Dad then reached over and placed a generous piece of roasted chicken onto my plate. I protested, "Dad, I'm full."

However, he insisted, and I reluctantly speared the chicken with my fork and took a bite. His concern was evident as he spoke,

"This election process is demanding. Keep your body and mind healthy. If, at any moment, you think you don't want this, you can always drop it."

I knew he meant every word. Still, I couldn't help but think about the years of preparation and my deep-rooted sense of purpose. Becoming an Elder was not just a desire; it was who I had always envisioned myself becoming, even before fully understanding the role.

"Or," he continued, "you could become the first Elder from the Nobles of Dantes. You have the talent, and you work hard for it. You have the power to make a change. Do not waste this opportunity."

With those words, we both fell into a comfortable silence, savoring our meal together.