Nova Quinn had always danced through Evershade like they belonged to the wind.
They never walked — they glided. They never spoke — they sang in riddles. Their laughter echoed in places where sound shouldn't carry. Most students thought Nova was strange.
Lyra knew better.
Nova was stitched.
But unlike the others, they had stitched themselves.
The Fracture
It began with a name.
Nova stood in the middle of the Reflection Pool, staring into the water. Their reflection didn't match. It blinked too late. It smiled when they didn't.
Lyra approached. "What do you see?"
Nova whispered, "Someone I used to be."
The Memory Slip
In Emotional Projection, Nova summoned fog instead of light.
In Dream Theory, they forgot their own dream.
In the Velvet Atrium, they called Cassian "Riven."
Cassian didn't laugh.
Zephyr Vale watched silently.
Maris whispered to Lyra, "They're unraveling."
Lyra nodded. "Or remembering."
The Confession
That night, Nova appeared in Lyra's dorm.
They didn't knock. They just stood in the doorway, glowing faintly, eyes wide.
"I wasn't always Nova," they said.
Lyra sat up. "Who were you?"
Nova smiled sadly. "A prototype."
The Truth
Nova led Lyra and Maris to the Whisper Theatre. The stage was empty. The masks on the walls turned to watch them.
Nova stood center stage.
"I was part of the first experiment," they said. "Before the towers were finished. Before the school had rules."
They closed their eyes.
"Madame Calyx stitched me from fragments — joy, curiosity, fearlessness. I wasn't born. I was built."
Maris gasped. "You're not a student."
Nova opened their eyes. "I'm a memory that learned how to breathe."
The Collapse
Nova began to flicker.
Their voice echoed in layers.
"I'm forgetting who I was supposed to be."
Lyra stepped forward. "Then remember who you chose to become."
Nova smiled. "That's why I stayed near you. You're the thread I never had."
The Book Again
Back in the dorm, the book pulsed.
New ink appeared:
> "Some stitched ones were made. Others were chosen. But one was born remembering."
Maris whispered, "That's you."
Lyra stared at the page. "And Nova?
The ink shimmered again:
> "Nova is the echo of the first attempt."