The city of Althmire was waking up, but Solin Dain had no intention of joining its bustling streets. He stood alone atop the crumbling parapets of the city's ancient wall, the early light of dawn casting long shadows across the fog-choked horizon. He could feel the Weave pulsing beneath his feet, its rhythms disjointed, as if the threads that held reality together were trembling in anticipation.
There were days when Solin wished he could simply ignore it all—turn his back on the unraveling world and vanish into the shadows like so many others before him. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw the man in the alley, his body unraveling into strands of light.
The Weave had been thin for years, but something had changed recently. It wasn't just that the fabric of reality was growing frayed—it was actively being torn apart, threads unraveling faster than they could be mended. And that wasn't just a local problem. It was everywhere.
Solin flexed his fingers, feeling the familiar hum of power in his palms. He had been a Tearbringer for as long as he could remember. It was a dangerous gift, one that often led to madness and death. Most Tearbringers fell to the same fate: their Threads stretched too thin, their minds cracked under the strain of constant unraveling. But Solin had always been different. He knew how to control it. How to keep his own Thread intact, for a time.
He didn't feel the pull of the Weave as strongly as he once had. The more he used his magic, the less the world seemed to make sense. Sometimes, the lines between reality and the Void blurred, and when that happened, there were no guarantees he'd be able to find his way back.
"You've been staring at the same spot for over an hour. Don't tell me you've found something," came a voice behind him.
Solin didn't turn. He knew who it was. Lirien Vale had a way of appearing when least expected, her footsteps as silent as the wind. She was always there when things were about to get worse.
"Found something?" Solin echoed, his voice a low growl. "I'm not looking for something, Lirien. I'm trying to understand what's already here."
Lirien stepped closer, her eyes glinting with that unsettling mixture of curiosity and skepticism. "You're not a philosopher, Solin. If you're waiting for answers, you'll be here until the Weave completely falls apart."
"It's already falling apart," he replied, his voice sharp. "We both know that. I can feel it in every Thread I touch. There's more to this than just a few broken Weavers. Something is… someone is deliberately unraveling the Weave."
Lirien tilted her head, considering his words. "Someone powerful, if it's tearing this deeply. And you're sure it's not just the usual chaos? The Weave's always had its frays."
Solin's hands clenched into fists. He could still feel the phantom tug of the broken Threads, the echoes of the man in the alley, his life slipping through Solin's fingers. "No," he said quietly. "This isn't the usual chaos. It's something else. Someone has learned how to break the Weave at its core."
Lirien's expression hardened. "That's dangerous. You know how much worse it gets when the Weave starts to tear like that. Reality collapses in on itself. Entire cities, entire lives… gone."
Solin's gaze hardened. "I know. That's why I have to find out who's doing this. Before it's too late."
Lirien's eyes narrowed, her arms crossing over her chest. "And what will you do if you find them? Break them apart, like you always do?"
Solin turned his back to her, looking out across the city once more. "Maybe," he said quietly. "But first, I need to understand the pattern. Whoever's behind this is leaving a trail. A trail of broken Threads. I just have to find the right one."
"You're playing with fire, Solin," Lirien warned, her voice growing more serious. "The deeper you go, the more you risk. You might not even be able to pull yourself back from the edge."
"I know the risks," he replied, his voice low and cold. "But I'm the only one who can see it for what it is. And if I don't stop them now, there won't be anything left to save."
Lirien stared at him for a long moment, as if weighing his words. Finally, she sighed and uncrossed her arms. "I can't let you do this alone. You'll need someone who knows how to track these things—someone who can see the Weave from a different perspective."
Solin didn't argue. He had known from the start that Lirien would insist on coming with him. She was a Horizon Walker, able to step through the folds of the Weave and see glimpses of alternate timelines. Her talents weren't directly related to unraveling reality, but they were useful when it came to tracking down those who worked in the shadows.
"Fine," Solin said. "But you stay out of the way. This isn't your fight."
Lirien raised an eyebrow. "Don't worry, Solin. I've got more control over my own fate than you think."
For a moment, Solin thought about arguing. But the truth was, he needed her. The Weave was fractured, and if they were going to find the source of the damage, they needed every advantage they could get.
"We start in the city," Solin said, turning to face her. "Althmire's the closest place to the epicenter. There's no way someone with this much power would be able to hide for long."
Lirien nodded. "Let's go then. But I'm telling you now, Solin—whatever you're looking for? It's not just a thread you're pulling at. You're pulling at the whole damn Weave."
Solin's expression darkened, but he said nothing. He knew the dangers. He knew the consequences. But it was already too late. The unraveling had begun.