The applause lingered long after the demonstration ended.
Groups of children gathered around the Academy platform, swinging imaginary swords and boasting about how many Soul Threads they would have when they were tested.
"At least one hundred."
"My brother has one hundred and sixty."
"I'll have three hundred!"
Kael smiled faintly as he slipped through the crowd.
Everyone dreamed of being exceptional.
He used to.
Now he simply wanted to become strong enough that no one else would lose their home the way he had.
The western market was busier than usual.
The Academy demonstrations always drew merchants from nearby villages.
A butcher shouted today's prices.
A florist arranged bright spring lilies outside her shop.
Travelers haggled over supplies for the road.
For a while...
Life felt normal.
"Kael!"
He turned.
A girl with chestnut hair hurried toward him, balancing three books against her chest.
"Finn was looking everywhere for you."
Kael blinked.
"I've been gone two hours."
"I know."
"That's practically forever to him."
She rolled her eyes dramatically.
"He's convinced he discovered something important."
Kael laughed.
"Did he actually?"
"...Probably not."
Finn Alder was exactly where Kael expected him to be.
Inside the city archives.
Not reading.
Climbing.
"Finn."
"I'm almost there!"
"You said that five minutes ago."
The lanky blond teenager reached the top of the ladder, nearly dropping a stack of dusty maps in the process.
"I found it!"
The maps promptly slipped from his hands.
Kael caught them before they hit the floor.
"...You also nearly destroyed it."
Finn grinned sheepishly.
"I was testing your reflexes."
"You failed."
"I succeeded."
Kael sighed.
"Come down before you invent another excuse."
The city archivist pinched the bridge of her nose.
"I'll pretend I didn't see that."
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
"Thank you, Miss Helena," Finn replied.
"You owe me another afternoon organizing shelves."
"...Fair."
They carried the maps to a nearby table.
Finn spread them out carefully.
Most showed familiar trade roads.
Old farmland.
Nearby rivers.
Then he pointed toward a faded section marked only by black ink.
"The Black Forest."
Kael's expression darkened immediately.
"What about it?"
"Look."
Finn tapped the oldest map.
"The forest is smaller."
Kael leaned closer.
It was.
Not by much.
But enough to notice.
Finn unrolled another map.
"This one's seventy years newer."
The dark outline had expanded.
Another.
Larger still.
Another.
Even larger.
Kael frowned.
"Forests grow."
"Not like this."
Finn lowered his voice.
"The border keeps moving."
He placed the newest map beside the oldest.
Nearly half a kilometer separated the marked edges.
Kael stared silently.
"No one talks about it."
Finn continued excitedly.
"I asked three professors."
"They all said the old cartographers were inaccurate."
"You don't believe them."
"I think they're ignoring it."
Kael looked at the maps again.
The forest had swallowed abandoned roads.
Ruined watchtowers.
Even an entire hunting lodge.
Slowly.
Quietly.
As though no one had noticed.
Or wanted to.
"You're thinking too hard."
Kael looked up.
Finn smiled.
"I know that face."
"I'm wondering why nobody cares."
"They probably do."
Finn shrugged.
"People only panic when something happens quickly."
"This has taken generations."
Kael nodded slowly.
That somehow made it worse.
As they rolled the maps away, Miss Helena approached carrying another bundle.
"You two enjoy old records?"
Finn answered before Kael could.
"Very much."
She smiled.
"Then perhaps you'll appreciate these."
She placed a worn leather journal on the table.
"No author."
"No publication date."
"Found during repairs beneath the archives."
Finn's eyes lit up.
"Can we read it?"
"You may copy it."
"But the original stays here."
The first pages had crumbled long ago.
The remaining entries were faded but readable.
Year unknown.
The forest sings differently now.
Finn frowned.
"That's strange."
Kael kept reading.
The hunters refuse to enter after dusk.
They say the roots whisper.
The next page had water damage.
Only fragments remained.
...not merely trees...
...roads beneath...
...whole cities...
Finn looked up.
"Cities?"
Kael turned another page.
The final entry was written in hurried, uneven script.
If anyone finds this...
Do not believe the maps.
The forest is deeper than—
The sentence ended abruptly.
The remainder of the page had been torn away.
Silence settled over the table.
Finn finally spoke.
"...That's unsettling."
Kael nodded.
"Very."
Outside, the afternoon sun had begun to descend.
Finn tucked his notebook beneath one arm.
"I'm copying this tomorrow."
"You'll probably find another mystery."
"I certainly hope so."
Kael laughed.
"You enjoy this too much."
"Someone has to remember things."
Finn's smile softened.
"My parents believed every forgotten place deserved to be found."
Kael knew the story.
Both had vanished during an expedition five years earlier.
No bodies.
No survivors.
No answers.
Finn had inherited their journals.
And their dream.
"If people stop asking questions..."
Finn said quietly,
"...history disappears."
Kael glanced toward the distant silhouette of the Black Forest.
Somehow...
Those words felt important.
On the walk back through Havenfall, they passed a group of Academy students practicing with wooden weapons.
One strike.
Another.
Precise.
Controlled.
At their center stood Darius Valen.
He disarmed his opponent effortlessly.
The watching students applauded.
Darius handed the practice sword back with a respectful nod.
"Good footwork."
"You leaned too far forward."
The younger student bowed gratefully.
Kael blinked.
That...
Wasn't what he'd expected.
Finn noticed.
"You thought he'd mock him?"
"...Maybe."
Instead, Darius patiently corrected another student's stance.
Firm.
Demanding.
Professional.
Not cruel.
Just confident.
Then Darius happened to glance toward the street.
His eyes met Kael's.
Recognition flickered.
He walked over.
The surrounding students immediately fell silent.
"You."
Kael nodded politely.
"Darius."
The noble looked him up and down.
"I remember the examination."
"So do I."
"You still training?"
"Every day."
Darius considered him for a long moment.
Then asked,
"Why?"
Kael frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"With twenty-five Threads..."
His tone wasn't mocking.
It sounded genuinely puzzled.
"You'll never pass the entrance trials."
"You know that."
"I know."
"Then why continue?"
Kael looked at the practice sword in his own hand.
Because someone had to survive.
Because strength mattered.
Because he'd promised himself no one else would die while he stood helpless.
But none of those felt like answers he could give a stranger.
So he simply said,
"Because quitting won't make me stronger."
For the first time...
Darius smiled.
A small one.
Barely noticeable.
"...Fair enough."
Without another word, he turned and returned to training.
Finn stared after him.
"...That wasn't nearly as dramatic as I expected."
Kael exhaled slowly.
"Me neither."
As evening settled over Havenfall, the bells rang once, signaling the closing of the city gates.
Far away...
Beyond the walls.
Beyond the farms.
Beyond the ancient trees...
Something opened its eyes.
Deep beneath layers of tangled roots, in ruins older than any kingdom still remembered, black Threads drifted through the darkness like strands carried by an unseen current.
A voice, faded by ages, echoed through empty halls.
"The weave..."
A pause.
"...frays."
No one heard it.
Not yet.
But somewhere in the city, as Kael unconsciously reached for the scorched silver pendant beneath his shirt, he felt a faint warmth against his chest.
It lasted only a heartbeat.
Then it was gone.