The Veyne estate rarely welcomed outsiders.
But when the Black-Thread came, everyone stood still.
Eliar sat alone in the west wing's study hall, fingers tapping the spine of a worn spell book he had no intention of reading. He'd spent the last two days testing his Echo-Knot.
The thread inside him responded faster now, and when he closed his eyes, he could feel two other versions of himself waiting in the dark.
Not ready to summon yet.
But close.
The door creaked open.
Callen stormed in, red in the face. "They're calling everyone. An emissary's arrived from the outer clans."
Eliar didn't react. "So?"
Callen sneered. "So he asked for you by name."
The main hall was filled with tension.
Lady Meressa stood at the center with the elders. Behind her, the house knights gripped their sheathed swords. No one dared to speak.
The man at the door wore a long black coat, soaked with rain, its fabric stitched with silver thread that shimmered unnaturally. His boots were crusted with dry mud, and across his chest lay a bandolier of cursed relics — glowing stones, sealed scrolls, and one object that made Eliar's stomach tighten,
A piece of bone carved with the sigil 🜎 — the Mark of Echo-Bind.
Only a Cursed Inspector could carry that.
"I am Orin Telhane," the man said, bowing slightly.
"I serve the Threadsman Council as Black-Thread Caller."
Lady Meressa's voice was cold.
"We haven't summoned a Caller in decades."
"You didn't. The relic did." Orin touched the bone at his chest.
"It pulsed three nights ago. That only happens when a forbidden knot is awakened."
Murmurs rippled through the chamber.
Meressa narrowed her eyes.
"We've had no such activity."
Orin turned his gaze across the room, then locked eyes with Eliar.
"That boy," he said simply. "Step forward."
Eliar stepped out of the line without hesitation.
He didn't look at his mother.
look at Callen.
Just stared at the Caller.
"What do you want?"
"To confirm something."
Orin reached into his coat and drew out a coin.
Dull black iron, etched with curse-lines. He flicked it into the air. It hovered between them, spinning.
"This is a Curse-Echo Detector. If you carry a living knot, it will react."
The coin glowed faintly. Then turned red.
The silence was immediate.
Orin didn't look surprised. "Thought so."
Eliar said nothing.
Meressa stepped forward, voice sharp. "That curse was sealed centuries ago. He should not be capable of it."
"He is," Orin replied. "And I intend to test it."
The courtyard was cleared within the hour.
Eliar stood alone in the center, sword in hand. Across from him, Orin removed his coat and drew a thin, curved blade etched with glowing runes. His left arm was wrapped in cursed bandages.
The sky darkened.
Wind kicked up dust.
Orin's tone was calm.
"This is not a fight. It's an evaluation. Survive for five minutes."
Eliar didn't reply. He rolled his shoulders once, then raised his blade.
"Echo," he whispered in his mind.
A ripple passed through him.
From the shadows beside him, a version of himself appeared. This Echo had a broken leg, limped slightly, but carried a dagger in reverse grip.
Orin's eyebrow twitched.
He moved fast.
Steel clashed.
Orin's first strike nearly took Eliar's arm. The man was fast—too fast for someone without aura. But his attacks weren't reckless. He tested angles, footwork, feints.
Eliar blocked two blows, ducked the third, and let the Echo lunge forward.
The Echo stabbed at Orin's ribs, only to be parried in a blur.
The man turned mid-motion and drove the hilt of his blade into the Echo's skull.
It shattered into black thread.
Eliar grimaced.
Orin exhaled.
"Interesting. You're not projecting, they're real. Temporarily."
He came again.
Eliar backpedaled, calling on another thread.
This time, a new Echo appeared—a version of himself blinded in one eye, wearing a makeshift brace. He swung wildly but distracted long enough for Eliar to circle.
He struck Orin's side.
The blade cut cloth, not flesh.
Orin spun, elbowed Eliar in the ribs, then kicked him back three feet.
Eliar rolled, coughed, and stood.
Time: 2 minutes.
Orin lowered his blade slightly.
"You're not using your Echoes properly."
Eliar wiped blood from his lip.
"Thanks for the tip."
"They're not just tools. They're you. They remember things you don't. That one?" He pointed to the broken-blind Echo.
"He remembers what happens if you dodge left instead of right. You're not listening to him."
Eliar paused.
Then reached inward.
Focused on the thread.
"Show me," he thought.
The blind Echo stepped forward again, this time not swinging, just moving his hand slowly.
Eliar mimicked it.
Orin attacked.
Instead of blocking, Eliar stepped right, not left.
Orin's blade passed inches from his shoulder.
He countered.
Steel met flesh.
Orin stopped.
Blood welled on his side.
He didn't look angry. Just… satisfied.
"Good," he said quietly. "Very good."
The fight ended at five minutes exactly.
Eliar stood breathing hard, bruised but upright.
Orin tossed his blade back into its sheath.
"You're not cursed. Not yet. But you're close."
"Meaning?"
"You're forming a true Echo Core. Not just temporary knots. If left unchecked, they'll root themselves permanently."
Eliar narrowed his eyes. "And if I let them?"
Orin's grin was dry. "You'd become the first Echo-Knight in two hundred years. Or die horribly. Hard to say."
He walked past, then paused beside him.
"In the coming years, people will fear you. Some will want to bind you. Others will want to use you."
He met Eliar's eyes.
"Don't let either happen."
After Orin left the estate, Meressa called Eliar to her private chamber.
She didn't speak right away.
Just stared at him from behind her glass desk.
"You held back," she finally said.
Eliar didn't lie.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because he wasn't the enemy."
Meressa exhaled through her nose.
Then, in a gesture she rarely made, she stood, walked around the desk, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You're no longer a child."
"I never was."
She nodded.
"Then it's time you started preparing for real trials."
Eliar's voice was calm.
"Already am."
That night, Eliar sat by his window, the moon casting pale light over the fields below.
He summoned an Echo.
It sat beside him. Silent. This one had no visible wounds. just tired eyes.
Eliar looked at it.
"What happens next?" he asked.
The Echo tilted its head.
"Next," it said,
"we find the First Seal."