The underground halls of the Weaving Society were alive with movement. The walls hummed with distant voices, torches burned in unseen drafts, and shadows flickered as people moved with purpose through the cavernous space.
Raine had barely slept since arriving—not from discomfort, but from something deeper. Something gnawing at his thoughts.
This place wasn't the Arcanum. It wasn't cold and orderly. It felt alive. The walls weren't polished stone but rough-hewn tunnels, carved by hands that had no intention of making them beautiful. And yet, despite the hum of activity, the air carried an undercurrent of tension.
This wasn't safety. It was survival.
Ezren had made that clear.
"You're on borrowed time. They'll judge you by what you do next."
Raine exhaled sharply. That wasn't the kind of welcome he'd hoped for.
He stepped into the main chamber, where dozens of Weavers were sparring in open rings. This wasn't idle training—they fought like their lives depended on it.
Blades clashed, Essence crackled through the air, and every movement was precise, calculated. Some fought with pure skill, steel meeting steel in brutal efficiency, while others wove magic into their strikes, streaks of light tracing the air as they exchanged blows.
This wasn't practice.
This was preparation.
A voice cut through his thoughts.
"You watching or joining?"
Raine turned sharply, his shoulders tensing.
A young man stood beside him, arms crossed, dark hair slightly unkempt from a recent bout. He looked about Raine's age, but there was a sharpness in his gaze that spoke of experience Raine didn't yet have.
"I haven't decided," Raine muttered.
The man smirked. "Then you're already behind."
Before Raine could reply, the man extended a hand. "Alden."
Raine hesitated, then shook it. Alden's grip was strong. Confident.
"You're the one Kael dragged in, right?" Alden asked, eyeing him. "He doesn't do that often."
Raine frowned. "You know him?"
Alden let out a short laugh. "Everyone here knows Kael. But him vouching for someone? That's different."
Raine wasn't sure if that was a good thing.
Before he could respond, Ezren's voice rang out across the chamber.
"Raine."
A few heads turned as Ezren strode toward them. He barely glanced at Alden.
"We're testing your control," Ezren said. "Now."
Alden let out a low whistle. "Didn't waste any time, did they?"
Raine's pulse quickened. "Testing?"
Ezren didn't elaborate. He simply turned and walked away.
Raine glanced at Alden, who gave him a half-smile. "Good luck. Try not to break anything important."
Raine wasn't sure that was an option.
The room was smaller than expected—plain, smooth stone walls, a single dim lantern hanging overhead. The air inside was heavy, weighted with something unspoken.
Ezren stood near a stone table, where a series of objects were laid out: a metal dagger, a chunk of wood, and a small glass vial filled with dark liquid.
Kael was already there, leaning against the far wall, arms crossed.
Ezren gestured to the objects. "Use your power."
Raine stared at him. "On what?"
"Doesn't matter."
Kael pushed off the wall. "Try the dagger first."
Raine hesitated, stepping forward. He could feel Ezren's gaze on him, weighing every movement.
He reached out—
And something pushed back.
The whispering sensation curled around his mind, the same pull he had felt in the Hollow.
A presence. A force waiting at the edges of his thoughts.
The dagger trembled. The air warped, rippling like heat over stone. The light in the room seemed to dim, just for a moment, as the space around the blade darkened—
A second. A breath.
Raine yanked his hand back.
The effect stopped immediately.
Ezren and Kael exchanged a glance.
Raine's breathing was unsteady. He clenched his fists, trying to shake off the cold sensation that had brushed against his skin.
Kael tilted his head. "You held it back."
Ezren's gaze sharpened. "You hesitated."
Raine swallowed. "Because I don't know what I'm doing."
Ezren was silent for a long moment. Then, he placed a hand on the table, fingers brushing the objects. "We've had Abyss-Touched before. The ones who couldn't control it? They burned out. Lost themselves."
Raine met his gaze. "And the ones who could?"
Ezren exhaled. "We don't know."
A cold weight settled in Raine's chest.
Kael stepped closer. "You're fighting it. That's a good sign."
Ezren studied Raine for a moment longer, then finally stepped back. "You're done for now."
Raine hesitated. "That's it?"
Ezren's gaze darkened. "For today."
The unspoken message was clear.
This was only the beginning.
Back in the main chamber, Alden found him again, dropping onto a bench beside him.
"You look like you saw something you didn't want to," Alden mused.
Raine sighed, rubbing his temples. "You could say that."
Alden leaned back, staring up at the cavern ceiling. "I heard the last Abyss-Touched they found lost his mind before the Arcanum even got to him."
Raine tensed. "That supposed to make me feel better?"
Alden shrugged. "Nope."
Silence stretched between them. The hum of activity filled the chamber—the clash of steel, the murmur of voices, the distant hum of Essence weaving through the air.
Finally, Alden said, "So, you staying?"
Raine glanced at him. "Do I have a choice?"
Alden smirked. "Not really."
Raine exhaled.
He thought back to the Resonance Stone, to the way the Society watched him, waiting for him to prove something—or fail trying.
He still didn't trust this place.
He still didn't know what he was.
But for now—
He was here.
And that had to be enough.