Chapter 13: Threads of Stone and Fire
The rain had passed by dawn, leaving the temple damp and humming. Droplets still clung to the jagged roof gaps, falling slow and steady into stone basins with soft plinks that echoed in rhythm with the Loom's pulse. The air smelled of wet stone and ash, heavy but clean compared to the choking fog of the Thornveil beyond.
Hale had them gather early. He looked tired, jaw rough with stubble, spear in hand. "We double watches from now on," he said, eyes scanning the shadowed corners of the ruin. "The beasts are closer. Training's important, but if you slip, you'll never live long enough to use it."
His gaze flicked to Elias, then to Noll. The boy sat straighter under the weight of it, eager, though his knuckles were raw from yesterday's drills. Elias adjusted the strap of his bandaged ribs and leaned on his spear. Tired or not, Hale was right. Every howl they'd heard last night had set Rook pacing, silver eyes flashing at the door until Elias had to calm him with a hand at his scruff.
Lysera stood by the altar, chalk already in hand. She had drawn a new set of circles across the stone floor, neat rings surrounding a single wick stub balanced in a clay holder. A bowl of water sat beside it, reflecting the pale light from the cracks above.
"Yesterday you learned sparks," she said. Her voice was cool, carrying easily over the crackling of the brazier. "Today you learn the first shape, light. Spark, hold, shape. The basics of weaving. Master this, and you'll master the rhythm of all else."
She opened her hand over the wick, palm hovering inches above. Her breathing slowed until Elias could almost hear it sync with the Loom's hum.
Threads gathered at her fingertips, pale silver, sliding like water into her palm. A faint glow flared between her fingers, and then a soft orb of light bloomed, steady and clean, no smoke, no flicker.
She closed her hand, and the light vanished. "Simple," she said, though the tone implied it was anything but.
Her gaze settled on Noll. "You first."
Noll dropped to his knees eagerly, palms outstretched. He tried too hard, Elias could see it before anything even happened, shoulders tight, breath uneven. Threads sputtered in his hand, flaring hot. For an instant, the wick lit brilliantly, brighter than Lysera's flame, before it burst with a snap, sparks flying.
"Shit!" Noll yelped, falling back on his heels, shaking his hand. His eyebrows smoked faintly.
Elvi leaned against a cracked pillar, grinning. "Careful boy, you actually almost burned them off this time."
Noll flushed red, muttering, "I had it."
"You had nothing," Elias said, though not unkindly. He crouched beside him, ignoring the ache in his ribs. "Your breath's all wrong. In too fast, out too shallow. You're trying to strangle the fire before it even breathes."
Noll glared at him, then nodded stiffly. He wasn't about to admit it, but Elias saw the spark of respect anyway.
Lysera's gaze shifted to Elias. "Your turn."
He stepped forward, lowering himself before the wick. His palm hovered, breath measured. The hum pressed at him instantly, sharp in his bones. He felt the weak seams in the threads around the wick like fractures in glass. His gut clenched. Every instinct screamed to pluck at them, to cut, to unravel. Safer to break the trap before it broke him.
"Steady," Lysera said quietly.
Elias forced his shoulders down, jaw tight. He drew in a breath, slow, four in, hold, four out. He pictured static from an old radio back home, tuning the dial until the noise became tone. Don't cut. Don't break. Hold.
Light flickered in his palm, thin at first, then steady. A faint orb hovered above the wick, trembling like it knew it didn't belong. Elias clenched his teeth and focused harder. The seams buzzed at him, begging to snap. He ignored them, barely.
The orb held for five breaths before collapsing in his hand with a hiss. Smoke curled into his face.
He swore under his breath, rubbing his temple. "Damn thing feels like trying not to pull a trigger with my finger already on it."
Lysera's gaze sharpened. "Then learn to move your finger."
Elvi's grin widened. Thorek barked a laugh, slapping a broad hand against his thigh. "By the Forge, soldier, if you bottle that scowl, you could light a forge without coal."
Elias glared at him. "Keep talking and I'll bottle you in the damn forge."
Thorek only grinned wider, soot streaked teeth flashing.
Lysera turned back to Noll. "Again. Both of you. Until your hands learn to hold without thinking."
They spent hours at it. Noll managed to hold a weak flame for eight breaths before it sputtered. He grinned like he'd slain a beast with his bare hands. Elias managed ten, then fifteen, though sweat beaded at his brow and his ribs ached with every drawn out breath.
Every time the seams whispered to him, urging him to cut. Every time, he forced himself to ignore them.
By midday, Lysera gestured them toward the temple's southern wall, where a deep crack split the stone. Threads bled faint light through the fracture like veins torn open.
"Next lesson," she said. "Reinforcement. This wall is failing. To mend it, you must align its hum with the Loom's rhythm. Cut, and it collapses."
Noll swallowed audibly. "What if it collapses anyway?"
"Then you run fast," Thorek said cheerfully.
Lysera ignored him. "Begin."
Noll tried first, hand pressed against the stone. His brow furrowed, sparks of light flickering against his skin. For a moment, the hum steadied, the crack glowing softer, then his rhythm faltered, and the glow shattered. Pebbles clattered to the floor.
He cursed, stepping back. "I can't, it slips"
"Patience," Lysera said. "You don't force it. You listen."
Then she looked at Elias.
He pressed his palm against the cold stone. The hum surged up his arm instantly, sharp and jagged. The weak seams sang to him, clear as a rifle crack. Instinct screamed to cut, to clean the wound by tearing it wider. His chest tightened.
Breathe. Four in. Hold. Four out.
He slowed. Matched the rhythm. Threads quivered under his hand, then eased. The light softened, weaving together into steadier lines. The crack hummed, no longer shrill but low and even.
The wall held.
Blood tickled his upper lip. He wiped it away, annoyed. "Son of a bitch."
Tamsin shoved a rag at him, muttering, "If you break your veins, don't expect me to stitch them twice in one week."
Elias pressed the rag to his nose and grunted. The wall still hummed steady. For once, he hadn't broken it.
Lysera's gaze lingered on him. "Better."
That night, they ate bread crisped over the brazier and strips of dried meat that tasted of salt and smoke. The lesson left them weary, but something felt different in the air. Not victory, but progress.
Noll stretched out on his back, grinning up at the cracked ceiling. "I held mine longer than ten breaths. You all saw it."
Elvi smirked. "You held it until it exploded in your face. Again."
Noll flushed, but the grin stayed.
Elias leaned against a pillar, Rook curled at his side, silver eyes gleaming in the brazier's glow. His ribs ached, his hand shook faintly, but when he closed his eyes, he still felt the hum in the wall he'd steadied. For once, not cutting. Holding.
Maybe Lysera was right. Maybe restraint could be learned.
Beyond the ruined walls, the Thornveil whispered. And somewhere in that whisper came a howl, low and distant, threading through the night.
Rook's ears pricked, his body tensed against Elias's leg.
Hale's hand closed on his spear. "They're closer," he said grimly.
The fire popped. Smoke curled into the rafters. Training wasn't over. It was just beginning.
By morning the rain had cleared, but the Thornveil didn't feel any kinder. Mist clung to the edges of the temple, pale ribbons that seemed to listen. Rook prowled the broken doorway, hackles lifting now and again, his silver eyes following things none of them could see.
Lysera wasted no time. She was already at the altar when Elias and Noll dragged themselves upright, chalk lines redrawn into new patterns, sharper this time, like cages or snares. A circle, a triangle, and then a jagged mark through both.
"Yesterday you learned to shape a flame," she said. "Today you will learn what happens when your rhythm falters. We will test your control, and your endurance. The Loom is not patient."
Noll groaned, rubbing his blistered palms. "Endurance sounds like pain."
"Good," Lysera said.
Thorek chuckled, already perched on an overturned crate. "By the Forge, lad, if you're not bleeding, you're not learning."
Elias grunted as he rose. "That's a hell of a motto."
Lysera ignored them both. She pointed to the first chalk circle. "Hold this ward steady. It is simple, meant to deflect a stone or a branch. Nothing more. But if your hum falters, it will collapse. Elias, you first."
He stepped into the circle, palm out. The hum surged instantly, sharp in his bones. He grit his teeth, breath slowing, four in, hold, four out. Threads quivered under his hand. The ward shimmered faintly, a thin veil of light curving around him.
Lysera flicked a pebble toward it. The ward caught it, deflecting it with a faint hiss.
"Good," she said. Then her hand blurred. She hurled a larger stone, faster.
Elias braced. The ward shivered but held. His teeth ached with the vibration, his chest tightening.
"Control," Lysera said evenly. "Do not push. Flow."
Another stone. Another hit. The hum rose, jagged. His instinct screamed to cut. To snap the threads and end the strain. He forced it down, shoulders trembling.
Blood welled in his nose again, dripping down his lip. He wiped it away with a curse. "Damn it,"
The ward collapsed with a faint shatter of light.
Lysera's eyes narrowed. "Again."
Noll's turn was worse. He sparked too much, too fast, the ward flared bright for a heartbeat and then exploded outward, stones clattering off the walls. He yelped, stumbling back, hair singed at the ends.
Elvi laughed openly. "You'd make a better torch than a shield."
Noll scowled, cheeks burning. "I almost had it."
"You almost killed yourself," Tamsin said dryly. "Try again without setting your lungs on fire."
Noll bit back a retort and stepped back into the circle, jaw clenched. This time, he lasted four stones before it broke. Sweat rolled down his face, but pride flickered there too.
Lysera didn't praise him, but she didn't scold either. That was something.
By midday, Elias was shaking. His arms ached, his head throbbed from holding hums too sharp for too long. Lysera drove them harder with each attempt. Pebbles became stones, then lengths of wood, then bolts loosed from Elvi's bow. Each strike pressed them closer to collapse.
"Control is not strength," Lysera said again and again. "Strength without rhythm is ruin."
Elias swore more than once, muttering curses through gritted teeth, but he kept stepping back into the chalk. His wards lasted longer. Not perfect, not clean, but longer. Enough to catch Lysera's gaze for a heartbeat with something like approval.
Rook paced the edge of the circle every time, silver eyes gleaming, tail twitching. Once, when Elias faltered, the cub pressed his head against his leg, steadying him. The hum eased for a breath. Elias managed to hold another strike before it shattered.
"Not fair," Noll muttered, watching. "You've got help."
Elias ruffled his hair without looking. "Then get a wolf."
They rested by the brazier, bread crisping on the flat stone, the smell of herbs masking sweat and blood. Noll lay on his back, groaning like his bones had been beaten.
"Feels like my arms are going to fall off," he muttered.
"Better to lose them here," Hale said, "than when a Warden's blade is swinging."
Noll made a face. "Comforting."
Elias chewed his bread in silence, staring at the cracks in the temple wall. The hum still thrummed through his chest. It wasn't music, not really. More like the rattle of static on an old radio, broken but insistent. Every beat of it tugged at him, begging to be cut.
He whispered low, mostly to himself. "One thread at a time. Hold before you cut."
Rook nudged his knee, as if agreeing.
When dusk fell, Lysera wasn't finished. She stood them before the cracked southern wall again, where Elias had steadied the stone yesterday.
"This time, both of you," she said. "Together. If either falters, the wall fails. If it fails…"
She didn't finish. She didn't need to. The weight of the stone above them spoke enough.
Noll swallowed hard. "You're serious?"
"Always," she said.
Elias placed his palm against the stone. Noll did the same beside him. The hum surged sharp, tangled, like two discordant notes. Threads shivered, pulled in different directions.
"Match me," Elias muttered.
Noll glanced at him, eyes wide. "I, I can't"
"Yes, you can, four in, fold, four out, with me."
They breathed together. The hum softened, still jagged but closer to rhythm. Threads steadied. The crack glowed faintly, knitting.
"Hold," Elias said through clenched teeth. His arm trembled with strain, nose bleeding again. "Don't let go"
Noll's jaw clenched, sweat pouring, but he didn't let go. The hum steadied further, the wall holding.
Then something shifted. A low rumble echoed through the stone, deeper than before. The Loom pressed harder, threads vibrating violently. The crack flared bright, threatening to split wider.
Elias's chest seized. His instinct screamed, cut. Break it before it breaks you.
He snarled, forcing it down. "Hold, damn it!"
Noll shouted back, voice raw. "I'm trying!"
The crack steadied, glowing low. The rumble eased. Slowly, painfully, the hum slipped back into rhythm.
The wall held.
They staggered back together, both bleeding, both shaking. But the wall stood.
Lysera's face was unreadable, but her voice softened, just slightly. "Better."
Noll dropped to the floor, panting. "That was… Saints… that was worse than any beating."
Elias pressed the rag Tamsin shoved at him against his nose, muttering, "Hell of a lesson."
Thorek grinned wide. "By the Forge, you two looked like you were wrestling the stones themselves. Beautiful. Terrifying, but beautiful."
Elvi leaned on her bow, smirking. "At least it didn't collapse on your heads. That's progress."
That night, as the fire dimmed, Elias sat with Rook curled at his side. His ribs ached, his arms burned, but something in him felt steadier. He'd cut nothing today. He'd held. Barely, but he'd held.
The Thornveil whispered beyond the walls, the low howl of a Threadbeast rising closer than before. The others stirred, weapons within reach.
Elias stroked Rook's fur, staring into the embers. "Not ready," he whispered, "but closer."
The cub pressed tighter against him, silver eyes gleaming in the firelight.
The temple hummed steady, but outside, the forest waited.
Night fell like a slow held breath, the temple breathing with it, rain spit from the gaps in the roof, the brazier threw a tired glow, Hale set watches two by two and checked every shadow twice, Rook paced the threshold with his head low and ears high, silver eyes cutting the dark like knives
Elias took first watch with Lysera, spear across his knees, ribs pulling with each long breath, the hum under the stones ran steady but thinner than it had at dusk, like the Loom itself was listening back, Lysera stood with her back to a column and her gaze on the doorway, hands loose, shoulders relaxed in a way that said she could kill you before you blinked
"You held," she said quietly, not quite looking at him, "twice, when it mattered"
"Felt like wrestling barbed wire," Elias muttered, wiping at the last dry smear of blood under his nose, "and trying not to grab it anyway"
"Then your hands are learning," she said, and let the silence settle again
The forest answered with a low warbling howl, closer than before, Rook froze, every hair along his spine lifting, a second note joined the first from farther east, then a third, shorter, chittering, not wolf, not anything that belonged to sane ground, Hale's head snapped toward the sound, Elvi was already up with bow in hand and an arrow pinched against string, Thorek rolled off his crate cursing cheerfully under his breath, Tamsin blew out the brazier to kill the glare
"Positions," Hale said, voice low iron, "Elvi left, Thorek right, Lysera on the nave, Noll with me at the steps, Elias center, don't break the line"
The temple darkened to a wash of moonless shapes, chalk circles still faint on the floor, the bowl of water a dull disc, Elias slid one foot to the chalk line Lysera had used all day, muscle memory hunting that same heel toe softness even while his pulse hammered, he wanted to cut every snag in the hum just to quiet the itch, he didn't, he breathed, four in, hold, four out
Something moved in the doorway beyond Rook, a drag of weight over grit, a wet scrape like stone chewed into paste, the smell hit first, hot metal and sour marrow, Rook's growl sank a pitch lower until it was more vibration than sound, the thing slipped into the nave on too many jointed legs, low to the ground and wrong, skin like glass stretched over cords humming with pale thread light, no eyes, just a jaw that unlatched too far
"Noll," Hale said, "light"
Noll swallowed, thrust his palm out, Elias heard the boy pull breath in too fast and nearly crack it and snapped, "Slow, kid, match me," they breathed together out of habit now, a tiny orb sparked to life above Noll's palm, jittering but there, six heartbeats of weak moon, enough to paint the thing's outline as it skittered across broken tile, it hissed at the light, threads inside it buzzing harder like a nest stirred
"Ward," Lysera said, and Elias stepped into the nearest chalk circle without thinking, palm up, hum surging, the thin veil of light skinning the air in front of him like glass about to frost, the creature hit it with a wet smack, the ward bent and screamed along his nerves, he swore through his teeth, "shit, steady"
Elvi's bow thrummed, a shaft sank into the beast's shoulder and skated off, sparks popped where wood met humming sinew, "It's laced," she hissed, already nocking another
Thorek scooped a flat pan off his pile and hurled it, the clang shocked the room, the beast flinched and turned its jaw toward the sound and crashed into a fallen column instead of Lysera's leg, "Ha," Thorek barked, absurdly delighted, "don't bite my cookware, you ugly spittoon"
"Less flirting, more killing," Tamsin snapped, already kneeling with linen ready, eyes hard as nails
The beast came again, faster, the ward screeched, Elias felt the strain go jagged, that old instinct rose with teeth, cut it, cut the pressure, cut something, cut everything, he forced his breath slow and a fraction of the strain eased, "Noll," he growled without looking back, "to my right, step in, like drills"
Noll slid in beside him, wild eyed but game, his spear low, the light in his palm flickering and then catching again, sweat shining on his lip, "I'm here," he said, voice thin and steady at once
The creature gathered itself, threads under its skin brightened, pulling taut like a bowstring before release, Elias felt the pattern, messy but there, a simple push weave wound around a bone frame, it would ram the ward, ride the rebound, and tear sideways, break the circle, get into them, the smart move was to slice now and let the pressure drop, the ward would fail and it would be teeth in ribs, the brave move was to hold, the right move was neither
"On me," Elias said, low, to Lysera as much as Noll, "drop on my mark," his fingers twitched toward the seam he felt in the beast's weave, a single filament bright as a fuse, if he cut that one thread at the moment of compression the whole projective push would collapse inward and stall the charge, if he missed it would blow through like a battering ram, and they'd be meat
The beast lunged, threads flaring hot, Elias counted one two in the space between heartbeats and snapped, "Now," Lysera let the ward slip a hair and Elias reached, not a grab not a slash not the old devouring rip, a pinch and snip, surgical, single bright line, severed
The push weave inside the beast hiccupped and ate itself, momentum died mid leap, it dropped hard into the chalk ring, claws scrabbling, Elvi's arrow hit deep into the soft hinge at its jaw, Hale charged in with a short brutal thrust and pinned a forelimb, Noll yelled and drove his spear into the armpit seam Elias barked at without thinking, "there, there" and the point found a thin place and slid, wet and ugly
The thing screamed, a kettle-squeal that set teeth on edge, it thrashed, threads snapping like harp strings, Rook lunged from the side and hit it behind the jaw with cub weight and ferocity far past his size, Elias's gut jumped, "Back," he snapped without looking, the cub sprang clear as if he understood words and the beast sagged, flailed, and then went still, the hum inside its frame guttered and went out
Silence fell like a dropped cloak, only the ragged breath of six people and one furious cub filled the nave, the smell of hot metal and old marrow crawled over everything, Elias kept his spear up a blink longer and then let the tip find stone
"Report," Hale said, already scanning the door, already listening for the next one, the next door quake, the next wrong song in the dark
"Fine," Elvi said, voice too bright to be anything but honest, "ugly, but fine"
"Not bleeding," Thorek crowed, retrieving his abused pan like a knight reclaiming a fallen shield, "and the pan lives, better than some men I've known," Tamsin shot him a look that could sour milk, then checked Noll's hands and forearms with quick efficient touches, the boy trembled but stood
Lysera stepped into the ring and crouched by the carcass, not touching it, studying the slacked lines under its skin, her voice was quiet but carried, "You chose a single cut," she said to Elias without looking up, "you timed it, you did not tear the whole weave to shreds, that was choice, and that saved us more pain than you know"
He snorted, wiped his lip with the back of his hand, tasted iron and ash, "Felt like threading a needle during a fistfight," he said, "and I hate sewing"
Her mouth tugged half a breath toward a smile and didn't land, "Do not practice too much," she said, finally glancing up, "one cut on time is medicine, ten cuts at random is murder"
Noll stared at the carcass, throat working, his voice came thin, "That was my first, like that, with it trying to, to actually," he didn't finish, Elias clapped a hand on his shoulder, solid once, "You held," he said, "you moved when you needed to, that's the job"
Hale crouched by the beast's chest, prodded with his spear tip, when he pulled back, ash collapsed inward, a smear of faint glow flickered and died like a coal starved of air, Elvi saw it too and lifted a brow, Lysera shook her head once, "Minor," she said, "some leave no core at all, some leave dust that will poison you for trying to keep it, leave it to ash," Thorek opened his mouth to argue about useful bits and shut it again when Lysera's eyes cut to him
Rook nosed the ash pile and sneezed, then pressed his head into Elias's knee like he needed to confirm the man was solid, Elias scratched behind an ear and felt the tremor still running along the cub's spine, "Good work," he said low, "next time let the tall ones take the teeth if you can help it," Rook huffed like an insulted prince
The hush didn't last long, another distant warble answered itself somewhere in the trees, farther this time or the wind took it, hard to tell, Hale rose, every line of him closing back to command, "That was a scout," he said, "or a stray, the pack is still out there," he looked to the doorway, then to the shadowed cracks where the temple met the forest floor, "we shore the gaps, we sleep in shifts, we move at first light to test the perimeter and lay sign, no one pisses without a partner, understood"
Mutters of assent, soft and sincere, Elvi already arranging a tangle of broken benches and fallen stone into a shin high barricade they could vault but beasts would stumble on, Thorek fetched scrap plates and wedged them over the worst holes, humming under his breath a smith's lullaby, Tamsin laid out two clean cloths, three needles, and the simple pressure salve she favored like a priestess setting altars, Lysera checked the chalk lines and redrew two with care, her handwriting as clean as a cut nerve
Elias took a knee where the chalk ward had held, let his hand hang above the stone until the hum met his skin again, not to tease himself with temptation, just to feel how the room had shifted, the note was higher now, thinner, the beast had thrashed at the temple's song and left it a little frayed, not broken, not tonight, he breathed, four in, hold, four out, let the itch pass him by
Noll slid down beside him and sat cross legged, eyes still too big, his spear laid across his lap like an apology, after a minute he said, "When you said now, I didn't think, I just moved," he swallowed, brushed ash from his cheek with the back of his hand, "If I'd thought I might've run"
"Thinking is what gets you killed before you've done the work," Elias said, not unkind, "you been practicing, so your body knew what to before your head caught up," he nudged the boy's shoulder with two fingers, "tomorrow we do more work, and the next day more, so that when it's teeth again you won't need permission to keep standing"
Noll nodded, set his jaw, the stubborn there again, cleaner now that fear had burned off the top, "Alright," he said, "more work"
Lysera came to stand over them, her shadow long across the chalk, "You two held a wall last night," she said, "you held a line tonight, you did not collapse when the Loom pressed, this place is a teacher, but it is not a mother," she glanced to the door, where Rook bristled at the night again, "we will take the lesson and not confuse it for safety"
"Poetry later," Tamsin called without looking up, "sleep now, those of you not staring at shadows, I tire of patching heroes who think fatigue is a badge"
Hale pointed at the rota he'd scratched into plank and barked names, Elvi took first res, Thorek took second watch with Hale because neither would admit they needed sleep, Lysera took the third, Elias the fourth, Noll grumbled and wound up paired with Elvi at dawn, because Hale did not trust him with the deep hours yet, which meant Hale trusted him enough to give him any hour at all
The fire sank to red, the temple hummed, the forest whispered, Elias stretched out beside Rook with the spear a line of comfort at his palm, eyes open until they weren't, last thought not a prayer, not exactly, just the shape of a promise he could keep in a world that had too many his bones couldn't, hold first, cut only when you must, keep the boy on his feet, keep them all on their feet if you can
Outside, the Thornveil turned its face to the dark and watched back, but for that night, the ruin held, and the little company inside it did too, battered, sore, breathing in the same rhythm at last