Threadlines of Meaning (Part 1)

The night was quiet, almost too quiet.

Wryth shifted under the thin inn blanket, feeling this weird tension crawling over him. His dreams were messy. Like, seriously tangled. Just a bunch of endless white threads floating in some empty space. Some were glowing a bit, others all twisted up in knots. He couldn’t move or talk. Just watch it all happen.

Then came the shock.

He sat up straight, breath fogging in the cold room. No storm, no monster, just that weird feeling. Like someone was there who shouldn’t be.

Wryth threw his cloak over one shoulder and stepped into the quiet hallway, his bare feet making soft taps on the wooden floor. The creak of the main inn door cut through the silence like a whisper that didn’t care what time it was.

Outside, on the stone steps under the hanging lanterns, someone was already sitting.

The figure didn’t move. Just turned his head slowly and said:
"So why?"
"What?" Wryth blinked and pulled his cloak a little tighter around himself.
"You just woke up from a dream with strings, didn’t you?"

Wryth froze.

"...How do you know that?"
The guy stood up and stretched like he’d been waiting forever just to say that one line.
"Just a hunch. Also, psychic. Maybe. Depends who’s asking."

Wryth narrowed his eyes and walked a little closer. The light from the lantern slowly lit up the stranger’s face.

Then it hit him.

He’d seen that face before. That messy, crooked smile. He remembered now.

Wryth had met this guy just once back at the academy. It was some random day. He and Marina were sitting next to each other in class, and when Wryth tried talking to her for the first time, this guy jumped in with some weird comment. It wasn’t even funny, at least not to Wryth. His brain just kinda froze. And after that day, the guy disappeared. Never saw him again.

Wryth tilted his head.

"So you're… sorry, I’m bad with names. It’s something with 'Ato' or..."

"Aiuto." The guy put a hand on his chest, making it dramatic. "Aiuto Driftsoil. And you're Wryth Pyrefall, right?"

Wryth didn’t flinch. Of course he knew his name. Somehow it just… made sense.
He looked away for a second, then muttered, "Yeah. That’s me."

Then after a small pause, he frowned.
"Drift... soil?"

He didn’t mean to say it out loud.

But he remembered. That wasn’t the surname this guy had before. Marina’s affinity was Water, and this guy had the same. He was...

"Wait. Weren’t you Driftwave?"

Aiuto smiled with closed eyes, stretching like a cat caught trespassing in a garden.
"Good catch. I was. Long story short, I got bored. Short story long, let’s just say wet wasn’t working for me anymore."

Wryth blinked.
"That is probably the most confusing way to explain a name change I’ve ever heard."

"That’s because the best explanations often raise more questions." Aiuto leaned back on the railing, looking up at the stars like they owed him something. "It’s like when you forget why you walked into a room. The question isn’t why you forget, it’s why you went in there in the first place. People change, and sometimes that means letting go of old things like ideas, beliefs, or names. I just made mine official."

Wryth stared for a moment, his voice softer.

"But you were gone for two years."

"Correction. Gone from the script. I was everywhere else. Ever follow a thread because it looks like it’s going somewhere, even if it seems stupid? That was me."

Wryth didn’t answer right away. There was something real in Aiuto’s words that made him... unsure.

The silence lasted a little too long.

Then Aiuto snapped his fingers. A soft blue light glowed around his hand, and thin glowing threads began to appear in the air. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. They floated and curled gently around both Wryth and Aiuto, each one giving off a faint energy.

"Wha..."

"Relax. It's harmless. Unless you’ve got, like, deep personal issues. Then it might feel kinda itchy." Aiuto smirked, waving lazily at the glowing lines.

Wryth kept his eyes on them, hesitant. "What... is all this?"

"Threadlines of Meaning," Aiuto said, like he was naming a favorite dessert. "They show what connects people to their goals. What keeps them going. What freaks them out. What they think they want, and what they actually need."

He looked at Wryth for a second, grin fading just a little."You’ve got something heavy tied to you, Pyrefall. But hey, it’s glowing."

Wryth’s eyes followed one of the threads drifting behind him before it faded out of sight.

"What about yours?"
Aiuto's grin faded a little. He flicked his fingers, and the threads disappeared into the air like soft dust.

"Let’s just say mine hasn't fully shown itself yet."

He stepped down slowly, hands slipping into his pockets.
Then, without even looking back, Aiuto said:
"Purpose is just chasing what makes you feel alive. Even if it looks dumb to everyone else. Especially if it does."

Wryth didn’t move.

His thoughts quietly echoed: So that’s what it means to him...

And somehow, it reminded him of the dream.

The strange place. The threads.

Aiuto turned around and pointed at him.
"Anyway, serious talk aside, tell Marina I still owe her that lemon pie I promised. Don’t ask. She’ll remember. Probably."

Wryth blinked.
"We’re in the middle of a potential existential phenomenon and you're bringing up pie?"

"If I don’t remind people about food mid-philosophy, they starve. Or worse, become professors."

The threads shifted.

They tightened around him, not like rope but more like something pulling him in. Wryth felt his feet lift off the ground, his body slowly floating up, as if something invisible had decided to bend the rules of gravity just to mess with him.

"Aiuto, what is this?" Wryth’s voice was tight. "Put me down!"

"Shhh." Aiuto waved a finger, leaning back as if the air were a soft chair. The two of them floated above the inn’s stone steps, Wryth a little higher than Aiuto, facing downward.

"We're on the same page now. Mindwise."

"That’s not a real word."

"Well, neither is 'normal' if you think about it for a bit."

Wryth glared. "What are you even doing?"

Aiuto relaxed, folding his arms behind his head and looking up at Wryth with that same calm, mischievous smile. Threads buzzed faintly around them, like something quietly working in the background.

"Look, I’ve got a decent guess why you two are here. You’re probably chasing some world-changing dream, right? You and Marina. Trying to make the impossible normal. Fixing everything. Turning pain into something meaningful. That kind of stuff."

Wryth narrowed his eyes. "And? You sound like you’re making fun of it."

Aiuto sighed and turned a little in the air, still floating.

"Not making fun. Just saying… it’s a nice goal. Noble. But also maybe a total waste of time."

Wryth tensed.

Aiuto waved his hand lazily, as if he was trying to draw constellations in the air.
"You’re both after something that might not give anything back. You’ll put in time, effort, maybe even your whole life. And maybe… just maybe… nothing will change."

"So what?" Wryth shot back. "We just sit back? Let the world stay broken?"

"No," Aiuto said, his tone is softer now. "I’m saying maybe put some of that energy into becoming you. Not part of a cause. Not a hero. Just… someone real. Build something that matters before you try fixing everything."

Wryth didn’t answer right away. But his body stopped fighting. The threads felt cold against his skin, but Aiuto’s words hit him somewhere deeper.

After a long moment, Wryth spoke.
"You ever think the thing that makes us real... is exactly what we’re chasing?"
Aiuto blinked, then chuckled.

"Okay. That was good. You got me on that one."

Then... snap.

The threads around them buzzed sharply. A new pulse cut through the air, like a sonar wave.
---
Meanwhile…

Marina’s eyes opened.

Something felt off. Not in a scary way, just... strange. Like the air was moving differently. Soft, but not wind. More like a feeling brushing past her skin.

She sat up slowly.

Her eyes drifted to Wryth’s bed.

Empty.

She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "He’s probably outside again..."

She reached for her coat and quietly stepped out the door.

Wryth was floating above Aiuto. The two of them just hanging there in the air like weird statues. Wryth’s hair dangled downward. Aiuto had his head tilted back, arms folded behind his head like he thought he was in some dramatic romance movie.

The air was glowing.

The mood?
Way too suspicious.

Right before Marina could say anything, Aiuto turned his head fast and locked eyes with her.

"Ah. Distraction."

Everything fell apart.

The threads snapped with a fizz and pop. Wryth dropped straight down and...

THUD!

He landed right on top of Aiuto. Or maybe in his lap. Or maybe both. It was hard to tell. There were just arms and legs everywhere.

They stared at each other like they had both made a terrible life choice.

Then...

"Ughhh, Wryth..." Marina sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I know we’re here to fight for love that’s not allowed or whatever, but some types of love really should just stay that way."
Her voice was half deadpan, half scream, with a full helping of please let me erase this from my brain.

"WHAT?!" Wryth jumped off Aiuto so fast he tripped over absolutely nothing, then somehow still managed to faceplant on the ground. "It’s not... no, that’s not what it looked like!"

Wryth stood up, face red. "Just because I’m in a bakery doesn’t mean I baked the cake, Marina!"

Marina crossed her arms. "You weren’t in a bakery. You were on top of him. That was not furniture. That was lap. Maybe even soul."

"I FELL!" Wryth shouted. "There were threads! Magic threads! It was a total accident!"

"Sure. And it just happened to look like the final scene of a romance anime."

"Oh my gods."

Aiuto sat up and brushed off his coat. "Hey, Marina. Promise, that was not what it looked like."

He paused.

Then smirked.

"Also, wow. Bit of homophobia?"

"I’m not homophobic!" Marina crossed her arms. "I just woke up from a dream where I was marrying Wryth in front of my grandma. Then I see that. It’s a lot to process."

Wryth mumbled, "I was meditating... sort of."

Aiuto stood and gave both of them a light pat on the shoulders.

"Anyway! That was a fun three seconds of chaos. Glad we made it. So... breakfast? Therapy? Maybe both?"

Marina squinted at him. "You're just as annoying as ever."

"And somehow still hot," Aiuto said, winking. "But we don’t bring that up. Not yet."

Wryth let out a long sigh. His face looked like it couldn’t decide between disappointment and existential confusion.

"This day is cursed."

Marina took a step closer.

Her voice came out slow, like she was trying to believe her own eyes.

"No way." She stared at him. "Aiuto?"

The boy gave a small grin and rubbed the back of his neck. Same lazy energy. Same face. But now there was something heavier behind it.

"Hey, Marina."

She froze.

Moonlight lit up her face, and for a second her eyes looked glassy.

"Where the hell have you been?" Her voice cracked. "You disappeared. Just like that. No message. Nothing. Two years, Aiuto."

Wryth stood quiet, watching. He had never seen her like this.

She stepped in and poked his chest.

"We got transferred in together. Same day. You joked about escaping the academy and made that stupid cafeteria map no one understood. You said stars looked better in my sketchbook than in the sky. And then you were gone."

Aiuto looked down. His smile faded.

"I know."

Marina clenched her fists.
"You could’ve said goodbye."

He spoke softly.
"I didn’t know I was leaving."

It felt too quiet. Like he wasn’t lying, but also wasn’t telling the whole story.

Marina took a breath. Her voice dropped.
"You idiot."

Aiuto smiled again, but just a little.
"I missed you too."

Silence.

Then Wryth stepped forward, arms crossed.

"Alright," he said. "Reunion’s nice and all, but I still want answers."
He pointed at Aiuto.

"Your name used to be Driftwave. That was the Water family tag. Now you’re calling yourself Driftsoil?"

Wryth tilted his head slightly.
"Why? Did your element change? Did you give it up? Or did someone make you do it?"

His voice was steady. He wasn’t judging. He was trying to understand.

Aiuto paused.
He looked down again.

The boy who used to move like a storm didn’t move at all.
"That’s a long story."

The wind shifted.

And around them, the threadlines moved gently, like they remembered something.