The city was not silent at night. Merchants packing up their karts, the clanging of artisans who prefer to work under moonlight. Ashai had fallen asleep the moment they entered the room, curled into his blanket.
Suhra sat on the edge of her own bed, thinking instead of resting. The Sigilspire Trials. Ashai was only five. Too young, by any of the formal standards. And yet…
She couldn't shake the memory.
She remembered her own exam. Seven years old, standing before a room of instructors while Sygros glyphs shaped faster than ever recorded. She remembered the stares. The whispers. The fear behind the praise.
Memory faded to sleep before she noticed.
In a dark alley of the city, seven figures convened in a small circle. Their masks hid notable features, but silhouettes betrayed small things. Two were women and one shorter than the others.
"Everyone know your tasks?"
The voice was smooth, sophisticated, like a warm fire in the winter evening. It belonged to the leader of the team. His eyes, visible above the mask, were something the team never grew used to. The deepest blue touched by a smokey green swirl, like cosmic storm marbles. Even in the dark, they glowed with quiet intensity.
"But Sir, are we really doing this? It's not like our normal procedure." One woman spoke.
Second in command shifted. Crystaline forms shimmered along his forearms, glowing in rhythmic pulses. "We move methodically. The Sigilspire watches everything. Slow growth is safest."
Their leader nodded. "Patience. That is our advantage here."
The one with painted marks along his arms stepped forward. The creatures inked across his skin seemed to ripple with him. "There is one problem. Suhra the Still Step arrived tonight. She had a boy with her. Young. Five years old."
The leader did not react. "She won't interfere," the leader said at last. "But do not engage her. A Weaver of her level would be trouble. Observe and avoid. No need to find ourselves caught in her threads."
The group answered together, "Yes, Pillar."
Ashai dreamed.
He stood in a haze two forms moved ahead of him. At first he thought they were giant Pips, like the food he ate the night before, but they grew clearer and far too real.
One creature glowed faint blue, its scales rippling as if heat moved beneath them. Wisps of vapor curled from its body, drifting out in long, thin lines before suddenly flashing alive, bright and sharp the way stormlight flickers before thunder. Each flash cut forward through the mist, stretching into a blade of light before dissolving back into gas. Blades formed and vanished in sequences quicker than breath, as if the beast shaped them simply by deciding they should exist.
The other creature was taller and pale, long and segmented with far too many legs. Hundreds, maybe thousands. It reminded him of a centipede described from memory and stretched impossibly large. White mist poured from its body and condensed into half-formed shapes: broken tools, strange limbs, old fragments of things that shouldn't exist. Each one crumbled into dust as quickly as it appeared. Wherever this pale beast moved, the ground cracked, darkened, or aged.
The two beasts moved around each other with slow purpose, like storms testing boundaries. Then both paused. Both turned toward Ashai. The blue one flickered with a faint heated light, a pulse that almost carried meaning. The white one lifted its front segments as if listening for something.
They rushed toward him.
Ashai woke with a small gasp he swallowed too fast to understand his own fear.
"Ashai, get up," Suhra said, brushing his hair back. "I drew a bath for you. Hurry."
He blinked, trying to return to the dream. "I think one of them spoke", he thought. But the moment he tried to catch it, the memory slipped away like water. He went to wash up, mind still tangled in the images.
Downstairs, the inn's eating area buzzed with morning voices. Ashai sat with Suhra at a corner table. The innkeeper brought their meals: Ashai's plate was covered in small discs of sweet bread with butter and a sweet fruit spread.
Suhra's dish was simple baked spiral rolls infused with spices and sugar, covered with a sweet glaze. She ordered fruit juice. Ashai copied her choice, still thinking about the dream.
Suhra began sharing small pieces of the Sigilspire's testing process, when she noticed his expression. "What is wrong, little star?"
"Have you ever seen Pips fighting in your dreams?" Ashai asked.
"Pips? The food you had last night?" She raised an eyebrow. A rare expression for her. "No. Why do you ask?"
"They were massive," Ashai said. "Bigger than the spires. One blue one with heating lights and flashes like storms. And a white one with lots of legs. They were angry."
Suhra's heart tightened. The description was too close to creatures no one had seen for thousands of years.
"Dreams often feel too real," she said calmly. "Beasts usually fight over territory. But the library should have books on the old mythical creatures. We can go there first."
Ashai brightened.
They stepped outside into the bustling day. As they walked toward the second tier, Ashai suddenly stopped. Suhra paused beside him.
"What is it?"
Ashai stared upward. "I see a thread," he whispered. "It is flowing the wrong way. The wind pushes one direction, but the thread moves against it. Like it is going backwards."
Suhra's pulse jumped. She wove a quick detection spell from her steps. Rings of soft light rippled outward.
Nothing.
"I do not sense anything," she said. "Is it still there?"
Ashai blinked. "No. It went away."
But his eyes stayed fixed on the rooftops long after.
High above them, clinging sideways to the outer wall of the Grand Sigilspire, a masked man watched. His weight barely shifted the air. His presence left no imprint.
"He noticed me," he murmured. "Interesting."
A quiet smile tugged behind his mask.
A memory surfaced.
"Hey Suhra, how is Mr. Abbarai's class? Everyone says he is strict but I have him next."
"Woah, you scared me Vaelith. You really are like a ghost."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Suhra laughed. "Just stay awake. He hates daydreamers."
The memory dissolved. Vaelith slipped from the wall, falling several breaths before calmly retracing the same pattern he had used to climb. He landed back on the vertical stone as if it were level ground.
"She never could sense me," he said softly.
A ripple of darkness gathered beside him. A shadowed figure stepped onto the wall, quiet as a thought. It was Rift, one of the other Six. The air barely stirred around him.
"Pillar, you alright? You dropped for a moment."
Vaelith nodded. "I am fine. Just thinking."
Rift watched Suhra and Ashai vanish into the crowd below, then dissolved into the shadowline again. Vaelith followed, each step soundless.
No one in Virehall noticed them.
The Sigilspire accepted their movements as if they belonged there.
The library sat deep within the second tier, built from stone shaped like massive roots spiraling upward. Thin veins ran along its walls, warm to the touch like something once alive. Ashai placed his hand on one.
"It feels warm."
"It should not," Suhra murmured.
Inside, the high ceilings flowed like woven branches, shaped into arches that hummed with old Myhn. The Sigilspire owned the library, but only the first level was open to the public. Locked staircases spiraled upward to restricted archives. Each was sealed with heavy root-shaped glyphs that made the air feel like it was watching.
Suhra guided Ashai through the rows until they found an alcove lit with soft lanterns. She pulled a large tome from the shelf.
"Beasts of the Unformed Era."
They opened it together. Ashai pointed almost immediately.
"That one," he whispered at the drawing of the segmented white creature. "That is the white one."
Suhra swallowed. "Voronarch."
He flipped pages. Stopped again. A blue creature wrapped in streaks of heated light and vapor.
"That one too."
Suhra closed the book slowly. "We will speak with someone from the Sigilspire later. These creatures have not been seen for at least a thousand years."
"They looked at me," Ashai whispered.
She rested a hand on his shoulder. "Come. We should head back."
But Ashai lingered a moment longer, staring at the locked upper floors.
It felt like something behind those doors was waiting.
Just like the thread.
Just like the beasts.
Just like the Myhn itself.