The thud of a body hitting stone echoed through the alley.
Leia flinched, just barely avoiding the sight of a teen boy lying flat on the ground. He groaned, curling around his ribs. A city guard stood above him, shaking his head, his palm still glowing faintly from the impact of his blunt-force ability.
"Next time, don't run," the guard muttered before walking away.
Leia stayed in the shadows, quiet. Her eyes weren't on the guard. They were on the boy — and the cracked leather vest that had failed to protect him.
Another one hurt.
Another one unranked. Or worse — ranked low, like her.
She waited until the alley cleared before moving toward the boy, who was trying to sit up. He looked barely older than her, maybe fifteen. Dried mud and shame clung to his face.
"Do you want water?" Leia asked, kneeling beside him.
He blinked at her. "You got water?"
She handed over a half-filled canteen from her belt. "Small sips."
He drank greedily and coughed. "I'm fine," he lied.
Leia didn't push. She just helped him lean back against the wall. Her eyes returned to the cracked vest.
It didn't work, she thought. The stitching tore first. The force hit straight through.
Her mind flicked through what she'd read — scraps from books, whispers from tailors. There were patterns that strengthened fabric. Angles that dispersed force. But no one used them anymore. Not since the ranking system made "craft" obsolete.
Yet she'd seen the potential.
She'd felt it.
She remembered how Calen's coat had absorbed minor heat and redirected it through flare-stitch seams. That had been her first try at intentional protection.
But now… now she wanted to do more than look clever.
She wanted to shield.
---
That night, back in their room, Leia cleared a space on the floor.
She laid out materials: an old curtain from the market, bits of guard armor cloth she'd bought cheap, scraps from burnt tents, and a small roll of wire-thread she'd been saving.
Selene watched from the corner, a book in her lap. "New project?"
Leia nodded. "Not just clothes this time."
Selene smiled, but didn't pry. She knew better.
Leia placed a hand over the curtain, spreading it out flat.
What if this could absorb energy? What if thread could be made to bend instead of break?
She picked up her needle.
It had started with fashion. Beauty. Color.
But now… it was about survival.
---
For hours, she tested stitches. The wire thread refused to blend with the old curtain. The burnt fabric cracked when pulled. Nothing held long.
Frustrated, Leia stabbed the needle into the fabric and leaned back.
"This isn't working."
Selene looked up. "What's the goal?"
Leia sighed. "To create something that protects. Not just from weather or heat. From… blows. From powers."
Selene stood and walked over, kneeling beside her. She lifted a piece of the failed stitchwork.
"You're trying to force soft things to act like hard things," she said. "But maybe thread isn't meant to fight like armor."
Leia frowned. "Then how do I make it protect?"
Selene tapped a point where the stitch crossed itself. "You don't make it stronger alone. You weave strength into every layer. Layer upon layer — so that even if one breaks…"
Leia's eyes lit up.
"…the others hold," she whispered, finishing her mother's thought.
She looked back at the curtain.
Not a single stitch.
A network.
Not one thread.
A system.
Selene gave a knowing nod and returned to her seat.
Leia pulled out new fabric and began again — this time, layering before sewing.
---
By dawn, her fingers throbbed. Her wrists ached.
But she had something real.
A shape.
A start.
A cloak.
Not finished. Not ready. But born with purpose.