The Weave Tightens

The road through the Western Vale was narrow, hemmed in by trees that pressed close like watchful sentinels. Wagon wheels creaked over stones and roots, the sound mingling with the rustling of leaves above. Guards walked in pairs on either side of the caravan, their lanterns swaying and casting long, unsteady shadows against the trunks. Though it was still afternoon, the forest canopy was thick enough to smother the light, painting everything in a dusky half-darkness.

Luneth rode near the head of the wagon, reins steady in her gloved hands. Her pale hair caught what little sunlight pierced through, giving her an almost ethereal sheen. She looked calm—serene, even. But her eyes flicked often to the shadows between the trees, as if expecting them to stir.

“Keep sharp,” she said evenly. “This stretch isn’t kind to travelers.”

Daelric walked a few paces ahead, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Kaori moved opposite him, her single blade sheathed but ready, her sharp eyes scanning the undergrowth. Both of them gave short nods at Luneth’s warning. The silence broke first with a growl. Low, guttural, rolling through the underbrush. Before the guards could tighten formation, a pack of twisted shapes lunged from the brush—demons, small ones, but quick, their claws glinting in the gloom.

“Front left!” Daelric barked, drawing his sword in a hiss of steel. A burst of flame erupted along its edge as he swung, cleaving through the first of the creatures in a fiery arc.

Kaori moved with equal swiftness, blade drawn. She cut down two more, pivoting smoothly to intercept one that nearly slipped through toward the wagon. Its claw raked her arm, but she gritted her teeth, parried, and drove her weapon through its throat.

One of the guards stumbled back with a shout as another demon slashed at his chest. He fell, blood staining his tunic. Kaori’s hand lifted immediately, her free palm glowing with faint light. “Hold still,” she muttered, pressing it to the wound. The guard’s breath steadied as the cut closed halfway. Through the clash, Luneth’s voice rang clear—not raised, not panicked, but calm as if she already knew where every strike would fall.

“Two more to the right. Daelric, push them back. Kaori, guard the rear.”

Her barrier shimmered around the wagon just as a demon leapt high, its claws screeching against invisible resistance before Daelric’s sword cleaved it down. Within minutes, the attackers lay scattered and still, their blackened blood steaming on the dirt. Silence fell heavy afterward, broken only by the labored breathing of guards.

“You alright?” Kaori asked the one she’d healed.

The man nodded shakily. “Y-yes. If not for you… thank you.”

Others murmured gratitude as well, some toward Daelric’s flames, others toward Luneth’s protective barrier.

Luneth only smiled gently, brushing her hair back as if embarrassed by the praise. “We were fortunate. Stay alert. The road doesn’t end here.”

The guards straightened, steadied by her presence. They trusted her—relied on her quiet strength. But when she turned slightly away, where none could see her face, her smile thinned, and her eyes lost their warmth. She stared down at the blackened soil, her expression unreadable for a heartbeat. Then it was gone, replaced by that same soft calm.The caravan pressed on. Behind them, the scorched earth and broken bodies lay as silent markers of their passing.

Shin walked alone.

The forest air was damp, carrying the scent of moss and decay. His boots pressed into fresh tracks along the dirt—grooves carved by wagon wheels, still sharp at the edges. He crouched, tracing the impression with his fingers.

“…A caravan passed not long ago.”

His eyes swept over the ground again. Grass bent flat where feet had trampled, drops of blood dark against green. Some of it was still wet. He stood slowly, scanning the shadows. Nothing stirred. Yet a faint pressure pressed at the edges of his mind, like hands brushing his skull. The Abyss. It pulsed faintly in his chest, a rhythm not his own. With every step forward, the pressure deepened. The trees whispered. At least, that’s what it felt like. Leaves rustled above, but layered within was a sound too deliberate to be wind. A murmur, soft and shifting, threading just beneath hearing.

Shin paused, one hand tightening at his side. For a moment, the bark of a nearby tree seemed to ripple, a face pushing outward from the wood, lips parting in silent scream. He blinked, and it was only bark again. He exhaled sharply.

“…Warning me… or luring me?”

The Abyss throbbed again. He pressed a hand to his chest, jaw clenched, and forced his feet to move. The wagon grooves stretched ahead like a trail of inevitability. Whispers slithered closer, sharper than before. Not just words this time, but images: threads glimmering faintly in the air, black and silver both, weaving across the trunks like an unseen loom. Each one tugged faintly at his skin, urging him forward. When he tried to look directly, they vanished, leaving only a ghost of movement in his periphery.

He gritted his teeth. “Threads again…”

The pulse answered, quickening. A voice brushed his ear, hushed yet intimate. Closer. The weave tightens. You belong to it. Shin froze, breath misting, hand drifting toward his weapon. But when he turned, there was only silence, the forest utterly still. Only the faint sense that if he stayed, the threads would wrap tighter, binding until he could no longer move.

“…No.” His voice was low, steady, defiant. “I move on my own.”

The Abyss pulsed once, hard enough to rattle his ribs—then quieted. Shin forced his feet to keep walking. Still, the feeling lingered, the threads brushing at his skin like cobwebs he could not tear away.

The caravan pressed onward into the dusky light. Lanterns had been lit now, their glow casting circles of warmth against the encroaching dark. Kaori rode at the rear, eyes sharp. Daelric walked along the flank, his sword sheathed but hand never straying far from the hilt. The guards whispered among themselves now that the silence had grown unbearable.

“That wasn’t just a wild attack,” one muttered. “They came too close, too organized.”

“Could be hungry,” another said, though his voice carried no conviction.

“Hungry demons don’t wait in packs along a road,” Daelric cut in without looking back. “That was measured. They wanted to see how we fight.”

The words drew unease, but no one dared contradict him. Kaori’s gaze lingered on the trees, her brows tight. “Probing,” she murmured. “Testing the weak points.” One of the younger guards paled. “Testing us? You mean—”

“Quiet,” Luneth said softly.

All eyes shifted to her. She sat atop the wagon’s seat, reins steady, her expression unreadable in the lantern light. “You’ll be safe,” she said, tone calm, almost tender. “Stay close. Trust me.” Relief washed through the guards at her words, shoulders easing.

But as the forest swallowed their path again, Luneth’s gaze turned forward, eyes fixed into the darkness. Her lips moved silently, the faintest whisper lost to the creak of wheels.

Soon.

The lantern light caught her smile for only a second before shadow reclaimed it.

Shin came to the site of the ambush.

The stench hit him first—burned flesh, acrid and foul. He crouched low, running his hand over the earth. The dirt was blackened, still warm beneath his fingers. A severed demon claw lay half-buried in the mud, twitching faintly as if refusing to die. He stood slowly, his breath fogging in the cooling air.

“Someone fought here… not long ago.”

The Abyss surged like a drumbeat, rattling his ribs. His vision blurred at the edges for a moment, shadows deepening into crawling shapes. He gritted his teeth, forcing the haze down. Whispers followed. Faint, breathless, curling around his ears.

Closer… closer… the threads bind.

He turned sharply, hand on his weapon, but the forest was still. Only silence met him.

“…Threads?” he muttered under his breath. His fists tightened. “What are you weaving?”

The Abyss did not answer. Only its pulse remained. Every step down the road felt heavier, the silence thick. Even the cicadas seemed to hold their breath.

The wagon creaked onward.

Luneth’s eyes drifted back for a heartbeat, glancing at the empty road behind. The forest was still, lantern light casting the guards in flickering halos. Her gaze lingered, thoughtful.

Soon.

Miles behind, Shin stopped mid-step.

The hair on his neck rose as if unseen eyes bored into him. The Abyss whispered low, a hiss threading through silence.

“…Something is waiting.”

He stood frozen in the dim path, wagon grooves stretching into shadow before him. The pulse in his chest slowed… then faded, leaving only a hollow quiet. He exhaled, the sound harsh in the silence, and kept walking. The road carried both forward, though neither could see the other.

Not yet.