The dormitory halls were quiet. The lessons had ended hours ago, and most of the students were already asleep, their bodies exhausted from the first real exposure to Weaving.
Ren lay in his assigned bed, staring at the ceiling, his hands clasped behind his head.
He had done well today.
He had watched. He had learned. He had faked just enough ability to pass unnoticed.
Except he hadn't.
Kara was still watching him.
Even though she hadn't pressed further after their exchange, her suspicion had deepened. He could see it in the way she observed him—not directly, but subtly, as if waiting for him to slip.
She hadn't figured him out yet.
But she would.
If he didn't do something soon.
Ren exhaled slowly, rising from the bed. The other students in his dorm remained still, their breathing slow and rhythmic. He moved quietly, slipping out of the room and into the hall.
There was one advantage to being unknown here.
No one cared where he went.
And that meant he could train.
Ren stepped into the open courtyard, shrouded in darkness. The moon cast silver light across the polished stone floor, illuminating the faintest shimmer of the unseen threads hanging in the air.
The Loom felt different here.
In the village, he had barely noticed it—just faint impressions, a sense of something larger at the edges of his mind. But ever since the Loom of Ash, ever since his own fate had been altered, the threads were clearer.
Everywhere he looked, he saw strands shifting, weaving through the world, connecting everything together.
And among them, he saw flaws.
A loose thread here. A tangled knot there. Imperfections.
And he knew—instinctively—that he could pull them apart.
But before he tested it again, he needed to be sure.
He closed his eyes, reaching inward.
Unlike the others at the Academy, Ren's fate was no longer just woven into the world.
It had changed.
The Ashen Shard's power had fused into him, strengthening his existence—but not completely.
He could still feel the instability in his threads.
Still feel the frayed edges that made him different from the others.
That weakness had nearly killed him before.
He wouldn't let it happen again.
Ren focused, drawing his awareness into his core. The Loom existed around him, but it also existed within him. His own fate was a collection of threads, tightly bound yet fragile, still unfamiliar to him.
He reached for them.
They trembled at first, resisting his touch. The Academy taught students to reinforce their threads by strengthening their connection to fate.
But Ren wasn't interested in following their rules.
He needed to make his own existence unshakable.
Not by reinforcing his fate—but by rewriting it.
His threads pulled tighter, resisting at first, then slowly shifting as he guided them. The sensation was strange—like pulling on invisible strings inside himself. But it wasn't painful. It was… right.
A subtle warmth spread through his limbs as the frayed edges of his threads began to stabilize.
He wasn't changing what he was.
He was making himself stronger.
The Loom around him flickered in response, the threads nearby shifting slightly.
Then—a snap.
Ren's body tensed.
It wasn't his thread.
Someone else was watching.
Ren didn't move. Didn't turn his head.
The Loom had shifted—just for a fraction of a second—but he had felt it.
A presence.
Not close, but not far either.
Someone had been watching through the threads.
And the moment they realized he had noticed, they had cut their presence away.
Ren exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay calm.
It could have been an instructor.
It could have been a student.
Or it could have been something worse.
Either way, it meant one thing.
He wasn't hiding as well as he thought.
With slow, deliberate movements, he turned and walked back toward the dormitory.
Not too fast. Not too slow.
As if nothing had happened.
But as he shut the door behind him and lay back down, he knew the truth.
Someone knew he was different.
And the next time they watched—they wouldn't just be observing.