Someone's definitely out there and they haven't moved from that spot, what do they want and why are they just standing in the storm like that?
The Runestorm had settled into a steady drizzle by six-thirty in the morning, each drop carrying faint traces of violet energy that made the air taste metallic and sharp. Alucent pressed his face closer to the Frosted Glass window, the prismatic patterns it cast across his cottage floor shifted with each lightning flicker like kaleidoscope fragments.
Through the distorted view the figure stood motionless on the Runepath, just waiting there like a statue.
Maybe they're just lost in the storm or maybe they're waiting for me to come outside, after what happened in that warehouse I'm not taking any chances with mysterious strangers.
Then the figure raised one hand and knocked three times on his door, measured and deliberate like they had all the time in the world.
"Alucent Luci?" A woman's voice, sharp and impatient but not threatening. "I know you're in there. Open up"
She knows my name but she doesn't sound like a cultist, it's way too businesslike and professional, like she's got somewhere important to be.
Alucent grabbed his father's old frock coat from a wooden peg, the gray fabric was patched in several places but someone had stitched small runes into the cuffs that glowed faintly amber. The oversized coat hung loose on his frame like he was a kid wearing his dad's clothes.
The Forgepit basement still smelled like coal dust and rust, the Steamsewer continued its steady humming at seventy degrees and everything felt normal. Except for the stranger at his door who somehow knew exactly who he was.
He opened it cautiously, keeping one hand on the door frame in case he needed to slam it shut and run.
The woman standing on his threshold was about twenty-four, five-six with sharp green eyes and auburn hair pulled back in a tight braid that looked like it could survive a hurricane. Her bronze skin had an olive undertone that suggested southern Vale heritage, she wore a green cloak with rune embroidery along the edges that probably cost more than Alucent's entire wardrobe.
A three-centimeter scar on her left cheek twitched when she spoke like it was connected to her emotions.
"Finally" she said, looking him up and down like she was assessing livestock. "I'm Raya. Scribe-Weaver apprentice." She gestured toward the town center with an impatient wave. "Sir Vorn wants to see you"
Scribe-Weaver. that sounds really important and expensive, what would they want with someone like me who just figured out magic exists yesterday?
"See me about what exactly?"
Raya's hand rested on the hilt of a weapon at her side, not quite a sword but more like a curved blade that glowed with faint amber light and hummed with contained energy. The Weaveblade was maybe seventy centimeters long and probably worth way more than fifty dollars in Earth currency, like serious money.
"You're Luci's son aren't you, the researcher's boy who's been hiding in this cottage since his parents died"
"I haven't been hiding, I've been living—"
"Right" Her tone suggested she didn't believe him for a second. "Look, Sir Vorn thinks you might have potential, rune affinity runs in bloodlines especially ones connected to the old research projects"
Old research projects like whatever got my parents killed, great just great, I'm starting to think being a data analyst was way safer than this magic stuff.
The Runestorm drizzle was getting heavier, each drop leaving tiny sparks where it hit the Runepaths and the air smelled like copper pennies. Raya pulled her cloak tighter against the twelve-degree cold, her breath visible in small puffs.
"Are you coming or not, Sir Vorn doesn't like to be kept waiting and I'm not standing out here all morning getting soaked"
Alucent looked back at his cottage, then at the journal still open on his desk and the Loom of Threads diagram seemed to pulse in the corner of his vision like it was alive.
I need answers about what happened to me and these Scribe-Weavers might actually have some, plus I can't hide in this cottage forever.
"Fine. Let me lock up"
He pressed his palm against the door frame and channeled Runeforce through the Weave Anchor ring, the energy flowed up his arm like warm honey. A basic stability rune appeared five centimeters square, glowing amber and humming with power. The cottage door sealed itself with a soft click that sounded way more final than he'd expected.
Raya raised an eyebrow and her scar twitched again. "Thread One work. Not terrible for someone with no training"
Was that supposed to be a compliment? because it sure didn't sound like one, more like she was saying I barely qualified as competent.
They walked along the Runepaths toward Eryndral's town center, the copper strips beneath their feet pulsed faintly with each step and made tiny musical notes. The Ironvine trees on either side were heavy with moisture, their bark scarred by old rune markings that seemed to shift and crawl when Alucent wasn't looking directly at them.
That's really unsettling, why do the runes look like they're moving?
"So what exactly do Scribe-Weavers do?"
"We maintain the connections" Raya said, stepping around a puddle that sparkled with residual storm energy. "Between the Loom-Anchors and the greater pattern. Sir Vorn can explain it better than I can"
The greater pattern, that sounds like it connects to the Loom of Threads somehow and maybe to whatever cosmic responsibility I've apparently inherited.
The Scribe's Tower came into view as they rounded a bend in the path, a three-story structure made of Ironvine wood that rose twenty meters into the overcast sky like a cathedral spire. Its Frosted Glass clockface was two meters in diameter, ticking steadily with mechanical precision that you could hear from fifty meters away. Brass spires crowned the building, conducting Runeforce from the storm clouds above with crackling energy.
The Marketplaza spread out before the tower, half a square kilometer of cobblestone paths lined with Glowroses that pulsed in rhythm with the distant thunder. Steam-powered stalls dotted the space, their boilers hissing at eighty degrees Celsius and filling the air with warm vapor. Early morning vendors were setting up their wares despite the weather, calling out prices and haggling with each other.
This place is actually beautiful in a weird steampunk way, it's like someone took Victorian architecture and made it magical and alive.
Clockstags grazed between the stalls, their antlers clicking with each movement like wind chimes made of metal. The deer-like creatures had gear mechanisms built into their skeletal structure, a symbiosis between nature and rune-tech that shouldn't have worked but somehow looked completely natural.
At the center of the plaza all the Runepaths converged at a Runewell, three meters wide and glowing with steady amber light that hurt to look at directly. The thing probably cost two hundred dollars to maintain each month just in materials.
"Don't stare at the Runewell too long" Raya warned, noticing where his attention had gone. "It can overload your channels if you're not careful"
That's really good to know, the last thing I need is another headache on top of everything else that's happening.
They climbed the tower's spiral staircase, past rooms filled with brass instruments and rune-etched artifacts that hummed with contained power. Everything looked expensive and dangerous, like a museum exhibit that could explode if you touched the wrong thing.
Sir Vorn's office occupied the top floor, a circular space with windows facing all directions and giving a view of the entire valley. Maps covered the walls, marked with symbols that probably meant something important to people who understood this world.
Sir Vorn himself was fifty-eight years old, five-ten with a grizzled beard and gray eyes that looked like they'd seen too much. His balding head was partially covered by a brass monocle that had runes etched around its rim, tiny symbols that glowed faintly when he looked at things. He leaned on a rune-etched cane and wore a navy tailcoat with brass buttons that probably cost more than Alucent's entire cottage.
"Ah, young Luci" he said, his voice had the measured tone of someone used to being listened to without question. "I've been expecting you"
Expecting me, how could he know I'd come here and why does everyone seem to know more about my situation than I do?
"Raya said you wanted to test my rune affinity"
"Indeed" Sir Vorn gestured to a wooden workbench covered with various tools that looked both ancient and precisely maintained. "Your parents were among our most promising researchers before their accident. I'm curious to see if their talents passed to their son"
The way he said accident made it sound like he didn't really believe that's what it was either.
He handed Alucent a plain wooden plank and pointed to a piece of chalk that felt warm to the touch. "Inscribe a stability rune. Channel Runeforce from the Runewell below but don't draw too much or you'll trigger the Shadowcage Taboos"
A stability rune, I did one earlier on my door so how hard can this be really?
Alucent took the chalk and began sketching, the geometric pattern came naturally as if his hands remembered something his mind had never learned. He could feel the Runeforce flowing up from the Marketplaza's Runewell twenty meters below, amplified by the Runestorm drizzle outside and crackling with raw energy.
The rune began to glow, five centimeters square with amber light steady and strong and way brighter than the one on his door had been.
Then something went really wrong.
The Runeforce flow spiked like a power surge, the rune circuit overloaded and a brief spark jumped from the plank to his hand. Only lasted a tenth of a second before it extinguished itself but it startled everyone in the room and left his fingers tingling.
"Fascinating" Sir Vorn murmured, adjusting his monocle to get a better look. "You have raw talent but absolutely no control. The Runeforce nearly formed a feedback loop"
Great, I nearly blew up their test and probably their entire tower, that's exactly the impression I wanted to make.
Raya smirked from her position by the window, looking out at the plaza below. "Clumsy etching. I could've done that rune with my eyes closed when I was twelve"
Oh really, well aren't you just special and talented and better than everyone else.
"Practice makes perfect" Alucent said, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. "I haven't exactly had formal training"
"No, you haven't" Sir Vorn agreed, setting the wooden plank aside carefully. "Which is why I'm offering you a position with the Scribe-Weavers. Apprentice level, five Copperweaves per successful rune inscription"
Fifty cents per rune, it's not much money but it's something and I need answers about the Loom of Threads and what happened to my parents.
"What exactly would I be doing?"
"Maintaining the smaller Loom-Anchors around Eryndral. Inscribing stability runes on buildings after storms, basic work but essential." Sir Vorn's monocle caught the amber light from the Runewell below and reflected it in tiny rainbows. "And perhaps eventually, research into the deeper mysteries"
Deeper mysteries like whatever killed my parents? and turned me into some kind of cosmic repair technician apparently.
"I'll do it"
Sir Vorn nodded and handed him five Copperweaves from a brass bowl on his desk, the copper strips felt warm in Alucent's palm and were etched with simple prosperity runes that seemed to pulse with their own heartbeat.
"Excellent. Report here tomorrow morning for your first assignment"
They descended the tower stairs, Raya walking ahead with that confident stride that suggested she knew exactly where she belonged in the world and never doubted herself for a second.
Must be really nice to be so sure of yourself instead of constantly wondering what the hell is going on.
The Marketplaza was way busier now, vendors calling out prices for their wares in voices that echoed off the cobblestones. Steam-powered food carts hissed and bubbled, filling the air with the smell of fresh bread mixed with the metallic scent of the Runestorm and something that might have been cinnamon.
Alucent's stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten since before he died, which was definitely a weird thought to have and probably not something most people needed to worry about.
I should probably buy some food, two Copperweaves for bread seems pretty reasonable compared to Earth prices.
He approached a vendor's stall and traded two of his newly earned coins for a warm loaf, the bread was dense and filling with a slight taste of the herbs that grew near Runewells and it was actually really good.
"Not bad for your first day" Raya said, though her tone suggested she was being generous with the compliment and probably wouldn't be so nice next time.
She's competitive and probably sees me as a threat to her position, which is completely ridiculous since I barely know what I'm doing and she's obviously way better at this stuff.
That's when he noticed something really odd.
One of the Glowroses lining the cobblestone path was flickering erratically, instead of the steady clockwork bloom that characterized the other flowers this one pulsed in a pattern that seemed almost like morse code. Its violet petals opened and closed with deliberate precision, as if controlled by some external force that wanted to communicate something.
Like the pattern from the journal, the one connected to the Loom of Threads and whatever cosmic weaving was apparently falling apart.
Alucent moved closer to the flickering flower, his Runequill growing warm in his pocket and the amber ink responding to something invisible. The Weave Anchor ring on his finger started heating up too, like it was recognizing whatever was controlling the flower.
"What are you doing" Raya asked, her voice losing its mocking edge and taking on a note of concern.
I'm probably imagining things but what if I'm not, what if this flower is connected to whatever happened to my parents and whatever cosmic responsibility I've inherited?
The Glowrose's pattern shifted to three long pulses, two short, one long then repeat. The mechanical petals moved with deliberate precision like a telegraph key tapping out a message that only certain people could understand.
The Weave Anchor ring on his finger grew way warmer, whatever was controlling the flower was also responding to his presence and that probably wasn't a coincidence.
This can't be random, first the mysterious figure at my cottage, now this and everything's connected to me being here and having this ring.
"Alucent?" Raya's voice had completely lost its competitive edge, she was staring at the flower too and her hand moved instinctively to her Weaveblade. "That's not normal behavior for a Glowrose"
No kidding, it's not normal. The question is what do I do about it and should I touch it or run away or what?
The flower's pattern changed again, faster now and more urgent like it was trying to communicate something really important that couldn't wait much longer.
Or like it was warning them about something dangerous that was coming and they needed to get ready for it.