Chapter 1: The Loom of Fate
The first time Solara saw the Loom of Fate, she was six years old, standing in the grand halls of the Sanctum with the other apprentices. The chamber had felt impossibly vast, its domed ceiling stretching high above them, bathed in the soft glow of suspended lanterns. But it was the Loom that held her attention—the way its threads shimmered like woven moonlight, shifting and twisting in an endless, mesmerizing dance.
She had stared, wide-eyed, as Master Eldrin spoke. Every soul has a thread. Every destiny is woven. The Loom ensures that fate follows its course.
The other apprentices had listened in reverence, nodding along as if it all made perfect sense. But Solara had felt something different. Something is wrong.
Even as a child, she could hear the threads, not just as an idea or a belief, but as something real. She could feel their pull beneath her skin. And deep down, she knew, some destinies weren't meant to be followed.
But thinking that was dangerous. Saying it out loud? Unthinkable.
Now, ten years later, she stood in that same hall, staring up at the Loom once more. The apprentices around her weren't children anymore. They were young scholars in their final year of training, standing on the edge of their futures. Soon, many of them would take their vows, swearing themselves to the Council of Weavers, dedicating their lives to reading and preserving fate.
She was meant to be one of them.
But she couldn't.
Because she had a secret.
She could do more than hear the threads. More than see them.
She could touch them.
No one else could, not even the High Weavers. The Loom wove fate, and the Council merely followed its design. But Solara could feel the threads, as if they were part of her. She could twist them, bend them. If she tried… she could change them.
And if the Council ever found out, they wouldn't just cast her out. They would erase her.
A voice pulled her from her thoughts.
"Dreaming of your future, Solara?"
She turned. Cael stood beside her, smirking, though there was something careful about it today. He had always been sharp-eyed, quick-witted. But now, there was something else in his gaze. Something serious.
She forced a small smile. "Something like that."
His eyes flickered toward the Loom. "Strange, isn't it?" he murmured. "That a collection of threads holds our entire world in its grasp."
She hesitated. "You sound like you don't believe in it."
"I believe the Loom exists," Cael said, his voice quieter now. "I just don't believe it should decide everything."
Her pulse quickened. He was voicing the very thoughts she had buried for years.
Before she could respond, a sharp gong rang through the chamber.
Master Eldrin stood at the front of the hall, his silver robes pooling around him as he lifted a hand for silence. "The Council has spoken," he announced. "Tomorrow, the final weaving will begin. Those chosen will take their oaths as Keepers of Fate."
A ripple of excitement passed through the apprentices. This was the moment they had spent their lives preparing for.
Solara swallowed hard.
If she didn't find a way out, she would be bound to a system she could no longer believe in.
And worse; she would have to hide her secret forever.
Or risk everything.