Ashthorne was not built for comfort.
Most students learned that in their first week.
But today?
Today the academy felt wrong.
The air tasted metallic.
The ground trembled in tiny pulses.
Shadows stretched a little too far, as if reaching for something only they could see.
Whispers clung to the wind like threads unraveling in the dark.
The Whisper Library had collapsed only an hour ago, and already the academy was breathing differently.
Louder.
Heavier.
Hungrier.
Even the instructors felt it—those who pretended they didn't were simply better liars.
Caelum walked across the courtyard with Lira, Marenne, and Jalen trailing behind him like uneasy shadows. Students stared but didn't approach. Even nobles kept their distance now.
They didn't know what had happened.
They didn't need to.
They could feel it.
Something had shifted inside Caelum Veylor.
Something reflected in the tremors of the academy itself.
Lira's trembling voice
"Caelum… what did you see in there?"
Her voice cracked on the last word. She was scared of him. Not because he hurt anyone—but because he was beginning to change in ways no one could understand.
Caelum didn't lie.
"Truth," he said softly.
Jalen groaned. "What kind of truth? The kind that whispers into your spine? The kind that eats books? The kind that makes the library explode?!"
Marenne stepped in front of Caelum, blocking his path for the first time ever.
Her hands shook, but she didn't back down.
"Tell us what happened," she demanded.
Caelum looked at her… and for a moment, Thread-Sense magnified everything.
Her fear-thread.
Her curiosity-thread.
Her loyalty-thread.
Each one a glowing filament vibrating with conflicting emotion.
He blinked the vision away and answered:
"The library showed me Ashthorne's origin. And what sleeps beneath it."
Marenne's eyes widened.
"And?"
"And why it's waking."
They fell silent.
Then the ground shuddered beneath their feet—
a low, rolling tremor, subtle but heavy enough that students nearby stopped walking and looked around nervously.
Lira grabbed Caelum's arm.
"That—that wasn't normal."
"No," Caelum whispered, closing his eyes briefly.
"That was a heartbeat."
Artheon Appears
Chains rattled somewhere behind them.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
A presence pressed against the courtyard, bending the light around stone pillars, making students step aside as if instinct told them not to be in the way.
Artheon the Bound approached.
His black robes dragged across the tiles.
His chained arms glowed faint-blue.
His eyes—void-like, depthless—never left Caelum's face.
"Veylor," Artheon murmured. "Walk with me."
Lira stepped in front of Caelum immediately.
"No," she said, forcing her trembling voice into strength. "He's had enough today."
Artheon tilted his head slightly, studying Lira like someone peering into a curious insect jar.
"And yet he is still alive," Artheon said, tone almost amused. "Meaning he has not had enough."
Jalen practically fainted.
Marenne swallowed hard.
"Why?" she asked. "What do you want with him?"
Artheon looked at her for exactly one heartbeat.
"You would not understand."
The chains stirred across his arms—softly at first, then growing taut as if responding to something beneath the courtyard.
Caelum stepped forward.
He did not hide behind his friends.
He did not flinch.
He met Artheon's stare with quiet, unshakable calm.
"I assume this is not about the duel."
Artheon's lips curved.
"Correct. Though your performance was… enlightening."
Brutus Kaldros wouldn't be walking properly for days, but that wasn't what brought Artheon here.
The Whisper Library.
The visions.
The awakening.
The crack in the foundation of Ashthorne's deepest seal.
Artheon lowered his voice.
"You saw something you were not meant to see."
Caelum held his gaze. "There was no warning sign."
"No." Artheon's smile widened. "Because the library does not open by permission. It opens by hunger."
Lira's breath caught.
Marenne's eyes widened.
Jalen quietly prayed to any god listening.
Caelum merely raised an eyebrow.
"And it hungered for me?"
"No," Artheon said softly.
"It feared you. And fear always reveals the truth."
That earned Caelum's attention.
"So the library closed because—"
"It realized exactly what you are."
The shadows around Artheon deepened.
Chains clinked.
Every lantern in the courtyard flickered.
Students stopped walking.
And Artheon whispered:
"A Threadbearer is awakening beneath this academy."
The courtyard went silent.
Utterly.
Completely.
Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.
Caelum's eyes darkened.
The word Threadbearer carried weight.
Meaning.
History.
Power.
Artheon leaned closer, his breath cold enough to frost the air between them.
"It is ancient. It is dangerous. It is bound in the lowest seal."
He paused.
"And it is calling you by name."
Lira grabbed Caelum's sleeve tighter.
Marenne stepped back in alarm.
Jalen squeaked, "Nope. Nope nope nope—this is too much nope for one day—"
But Caelum?
He simply inhaled softly.
Thread-Sense pulsed through the ground.
Down.
Down.
Down.
Into the deep.
Into the sealed chamber beneath the academy.
And he felt it.
A heartbeat.
Steady.
Slow.
Rhythmic.
And then—
A whisper.
"…bearer…"
Lira felt the air ripple and gasped.
Marenne clapped a hand over her mouth.
Jalen hid behind a pillar.
Caelum answered quietly:
"I know."
Artheon's eyes gleamed with hungry approval.
"You will come with me," he said.
"Where?" Caelum asked.
Artheon's chains began glowing brighter, trembling with the strain of something rising from below.
"To the Lower Seals," Artheon said.
"Where the stitched corpse sleeps."
Another tremor shook the ground.
Harder.
Deeper.
Dust fell from high arches.
Students screamed.
Teachers shouted commands.
Stones cracked beneath their feet.
Artheon turned toward the main tower.
"Move quickly," he said, voice suddenly sharp.
"The seals are weakening."
Caelum stepped forward without hesitation.
Lira grabbed his arm again, voice breaking.
"Caelum, don't go—please—"
He looked at her gently.
And Lira froze.
Because for the first time…
Caelum's eyes were glowing.
A faint, soft white light—
threads reflecting inside his pupils like constellations.
He placed a hand over hers.
"It's alright."
"NO it's not—!"
Caelum leaned forward just slightly.
"Lira," he said softly, "I won't break."
She froze.
Her heart-thread tightened painfully.
Because she wasn't afraid of him breaking.
She was afraid of what he was becoming.
Artheon gestured sharply.
"Now, Veylor."
Caelum stepped away.
The ground trembled again.
And as he followed Artheon toward the sealed staircase beneath the academy…
A whisper rode the tremor beneath their feet—
"…come…
…bearer…
…come…"
Caelum's lips curved faintly.
"And so," he murmured, "we begin."