After the circus, the road turned quieter, the jubilant music fading into memory as the group pressed northeast toward the guild's next request. The path wound through meadows, then into marshland, until the air grew heavy with mist and the scent of damp reeds. Locals had whispered of a haunted lakeshore where strange voices carried across the water. The guild wanted answers.
By the second evening, they reached the lake. It stretched wide, smooth as glass, reflecting the silver moonlight. But the reflection rippled unnaturally, threads of faint white light drifting beneath the water's surface like tangled embroidery unraveling in slow motion.
Puff peeked from Nyra's hood, eyes widening as a hiss of steam rose off the water. "Puff," he murmured uneasily.
Sprout slithered free of the satchel and immediately wrapped a vine around Nyra's wrist, tugging as if to say, don't go closer.
Tovan crouched near the shore, frowning at the spectral filaments drifting just below the surface. "Looks like magic residue. Old… and dangerous."
"Not just residue," Nyra said softly. She leaned forward, her eyes catching the faint glow. The threads seemed to pulse faintly in time with her heartbeat. Then—like a sigh—they whispered. Not words exactly, but a familiar pull, and she swore she heard her own name echo across the water.
Her breath caught. "They're calling me."
Button stepped closer, placing one heavy paw on her shoulder with firm weight. His button eyes glowed faintly green, warning her not to lean further. Nyra patted his paw but didn't step back.
Tovan drew his sword, unease clear in his voice. "Calling you? That doesn't bode well. Whatever it is, we don't answer."
Nyra tilted her head, lips quirking faintly. "What if they're lonely? Wouldn't you want someone to answer you?"
"Not if I was a half-unraveled ghost in a lake," Tovan muttered. "I'd prefer peace."
Puff squeaked as if disagreeing, then flared a tiny burst of fire in the air like he was volunteering. Nyra giggled. "See? Puff wants to help."
Before Tovan could argue, the water rippled violently. Threads of light surged upward, wrapping around a half-submerged figure—a spirit, stitched together from glowing seams. Its form was humanoid but incomplete, unraveling constantly into ribbons of light. It reached out, grasping toward the shore.
The plushies reacted instantly. Biscuit growled and flapped furiously, launching himself at the glowing strands. He swatted with tiny plush claws, batting away pieces of thread that tried to latch onto Nyra. Puff spat a stream of flame at the water, which only sizzled harmlessly on the surface, earning an annoyed squeak from him.
"Less boiling, more aiming, Puff!" Nyra scolded. Puff squeaked in protest, crossing his stubby arms.
Sprout lashed vines toward the spirit's arm, trying to pull it apart, but the vines passed right through the glowing seams. He let out a sharp rustle that sounded almost like an indignant sigh.
"It's not attacking," Nyra said suddenly, holding up her hands. "It's trapped. Look."
The spirit's seams were tangled, knotted with black strands that pulsed with the same corruption she had seen in the Patchwork Horror. It struggled against them, seams tightening until sparks hissed across its body. The whispers grew louder—pleading, not threatening.
Nyra dropped to her knees, pulling out her silver needle. "Hold them off. I need to stitch it free."
Tovan's jaw tightened. "And if it drags you in with it?"
"Then Button drags me back out."
Button rumbled, wrapping one massive arm around her waist in silent agreement.
Tovan grumbled, "We need to start having less suicidal plans."
"Less whining, more guarding," Nyra shot back, tongue poking out as she threaded her needle.
Nyra cast her anchor thread into the water. It glowed brilliantly, latching onto the corrupted seams like a fishing line. The moment it touched, a wave of cold shot up her arm, numbing her fingers. The black thread pulsed angrily, resisting her pull. Nyra gritted her teeth, weaving her needle as fast as she could, sewing blue lines across the corruption to unravel it.
The spirit thrashed, half sinking. Biscuit clawed at loose strands, batting them aside whenever they reached for Nyra. "Biscuit, left side!" Nyra called. The little manticore squeaked and dove like a furry missile, smacking the corruption back. Puff hurled a ball of fire that whistled overhead and burst like a flare, briefly lighting the lake in brilliant orange. "Nice one!" Nyra encouraged, and Puff puffed proudly.
Sprout looped vines around Nyra's shoulders like a seatbelt, bracing her as she pulled. "Good boy," Nyra whispered, giving his vine an affectionate squeeze.
"Almost… there…" Nyra gasped. Her fingers ached, her spool spinning dangerously fast as she poured thread into the stitch. The last knot snapped, unraveling in a burst of light that cascaded across the water.
The spirit rose fully, no longer unraveling. Its seams glowed a calm blue, its face—though formless—tilted toward Nyra in gratitude. Slowly, it dissolved into motes of light, which floated across the lake before sinking into the depths. From where it vanished, a small cluster of glowing pearls drifted to the surface, bobbing gently.
Nyra reached out and plucked them from the water. They were warm in her palm, humming softly. "A gift," she murmured. "It's free now."
The lake stilled, its surface smooth once more. The whispers faded, leaving only the chirp of crickets and the soft lap of waves.
Tovan sheathed his sword, still staring at her. "You stitched a spirit. Do you realize how mad that sounds?"
Nyra tucked the pearls into her satchel. "Mad, maybe. But it worked." She glanced at Button, who still hadn't loosened his grip. "See? I didn't fall in."
Button gave her a slow blink, as if saying I almost didn't let you try.
Puff squeaked smugly, as if to say he had kept her safe all along. "Sure you did," Nyra teased him, scratching his round head. Biscuit flapped onto her shoulder, looking proud, and let out a squeak that sounded suspiciously like he was demanding applause. Sprout wrapped both vines around her waist in a clingy hug. Nyra laughed softly. "Yes, yes, you all did great."
Tovan muttered, shaking his head, "I'm traveling with a pack of deranged toys."
"They're family," Nyra corrected with a smile. "Besides, you're not exactly normal company yourself."
That night, campfire smoke curled lazily into the sky. Nyra sat cross‑legged with Puff in her lap and Biscuit curled at her side, poking the fire with a stick she had threaded with sparks. Tovan gnawed at dried meat with a sour face.
"You could at least season it," he grumbled.
Nyra stuck her tongue out. "If you want fancy cooking, you can ask Puff."
Puff puffed indignantly and belched a small flame that singed the tip of Tovan's boot. Tovan yelped, jerking back. "Not funny!"
Biscuit flapped onto his head, squeaking in laughter. Sprout crept behind him and tapped his shoulder with a vine. Tovan spun around, scowling. "I swear, one of these days—"
Before he could finish, the shadows around the fire stirred. A massive shape loomed, darker than the night itself, eyes gleaming faintly gold. Tovan froze, hand flying to his sword. "What is that?"
Button rumbled calmly, shifting aside to make space. Nyra, unfazed, ladled stew into an extra bowl and held it out toward the shadow. "You're late."
A horned beast stepped from the darkness, fur midnight black, movements eerily silent. With a ripple, it vanished, then reappeared beside Nyra to gently take the bowl. Tovan shouted and leapt back, tripping over his bedroll.
Nyra smiled serenely. "Relax. He's a friend. I saved him once. Now he shows up when he feels like it." She patted Button's arm. "He and Button go way back."
The beast lowered its head politely, chewing from the bowl with surprising delicacy. Tovan pressed a hand to his chest, pale. "You can't just… invite nightmare beasts for dinner!"
The plushies didn't share his fear—Sprout wrapped vines around the beast's leg like an old friend, and Puff climbed its horn to sit proudly on top. Biscuit perched on its back with a squeak of approval.
Nyra set her own bowl aside and leaned toward the fire, her tone softening. "I met him two years ago— He was caught in a hunter's trap. I stitched his wounds, gave him food. Since then he comes and goes as he pleases. Doesn't matter if I'm three towns over—he'll just walk out of the shadows. He always finds me."
The beast swallowed, then gave a low chuff as if agreeing, eyes glowing warmly. He licked the last of the stew and nudged the bowl toward Nyra like a polite guest asking for seconds.
Tovan groaned, covering his face. "I'm never sleeping again."
Nyra only giggled, handing him a second bowl. "Don't worry. He's family too. You'll get used to it."