Every sentient being in this world is born with a unique Vessel , an inner metaphysical construct that holds multiple "Threads." These Threads are connections to fundamental forces, concepts, memories, or emotions. The user doesn't directly manipulate elemental forces; instead, they manipulate reality by restringing, weaving, cutting, or tuning their Threads, causing changes in the fabric of the world.
The Threads come in many types: conceptual, elemental, temporal, and memory Threads. Everyone , whether crippled, dysfunctional, or delusional is born with Threads. Some have different abilities; some seemingly have none. In this world, those who can easily change Threads are like children of the gods though the gods themselves remain mysterious and barely understood.
Some are especially fortunate to be born with a Lord Vessel, an exceptional mutation in the vessel that lets them manifest and conjure multiple Threads in their Vessel at a same time .
I often wonder if people are born unfair or if society itself creates this unfairness. Like Threads, society is divided in countless ways, but in the end, everything works together, like knitting different Threads to make a single piece of cloth.
Looking around myself, I see people clinging to one another, making friends to maintain hierarchies status and rank in the society just for them to feel superior to another . I dislike it. Why has the world been shaped this way? Why is it so sad? Or perhaps, why are people so blind? They cling to these soft pleasures yet cannot see the bigger world.
"Vynn Zane! What are you doing zoning out in class? Look here and pay attention! You're one of the worst students I have to deal with this year your'e not paying attention and just a threadling at this stage of your life . I'm concerned about you that's why I've taken these extra sessions just for you. And you're not even listening!"
That's true. You're boring me, teach. It's your fault what I'd love to say but can't. "From now on, you have my full attention, teacher. i am Properly paying attention now."
This is my teacher, Anies Sortwelt. I really like her. She's kind and gentle, passionate about teaching, and the only one who truly believes in me. I often consider myself a lost child from the start. My older brother and sisters are the role models in my family thinking about them makes me sick.
"Properly revise your lesson and come back tomorrow. I know this is the start of our session and must be hard for you seeing your peers advancing forward in their thread manifestation but dont loose hope and keep practicing and one day you can also become someone great. Know that, okay? "
Ahh, I hate it when she does that i know i can do better you dont have to tell me but i just stop trying thinking whats the point if i cant progress through a mere threadling the lowest of the low . As I was walking, I heard a voice behind me."Oye, Zane, come here."
I turned to see two figures. One was a female with short red hair, she has curvy legs and a smooth pale skin, sharp and narrow eyes, and a beautiful voice. The other was about my height, handsome with a sharp face, stylish hair, and a dream-worthy body he has dark brown hairs though not muscular.
They are my childhood friends, Lyra Harth and Lark Noir. As their surnames suggest, they come from the Harth and Noir families, two of the eight most powerful houses in the kingdom. Bloodmere, Ashen, and Thorne are the three most powerful besides the royal lineage.
Harth and Noir are considered mid-tier among the great families, while low-tier families have lost significance in the power struggle among these five.
"Where are you going, Zane? Oh, your class is over! I bet you like the alone time you get with the teacher, didn't you?" laya punched me sideways when teasing me
"Don't tease him, Laya. We know he always admires the teacher but not like that. Am I right, Zane?"
"Stop, you two! I don't like miss anies like that I just admire her. There's a big difference between admiring and liking."
"Yeah, we know. We're just teasing. So how's your preparation going for Threadspire?" laya asked
THREADSPIRE is one of the biggest events in the entire kingdom of Vaylen. It's where all 17-year-olds compete for rankings. Those who reach the top of the rankings joins the upper section of the military and get a chance to earn powerful weapons and can have a lot of opportunities in the military earning wealth, luxury, and a promising military future. But it is dangerous too , killing so many candidates before even joining.
I don't think I'm cut out for rankings in the event; I simply don't have the motivation for it. vynn said with a slight disappointment in himself.
"Idiot! If you don't perform well in the upcoming Threadspire, you won't get into the upper military ranks! and wont have the chance to further advance your thread " Laya said with an annoyed face.
"That's right, Vynn. I know you want to join the military, but if you want to join, why not aim for the best? , You know I'm going to win this year threadspire" Lark said confidently punching his fist toward me
"You all know I dislike competing with you two specially with lark . First of all, you have a Lord Vessel. Second, I don't even have an elemental thread. All I have is a physical thread nothing else plus i am still just a threading even though i practice for years i cannot even change that."
"I can still just use a single thread for fighting plus you two already surpass me in both talent and rank how can i even compete i have accepted my fate plus I will be dead in threadspire if I compete ."
Laya tried to console me, but failed miserably. "You know, vynn , I think your thread is amazing too. From my view, everyone has the potential to be amazing. I know you're disheartened about your condition , but don't worry you have us to help you."
"That's right, Vynn. We're in this together. I'll help you manifest your thread more efficiently. I'll be sad if we're not in the same division in the army."
As we walked home from the academy, we got separated because they live in the royal courtyard. My family is consider above average because of my brother and sisters they are very prominent in the military and my uncle is a top ranking strategist in the military.
As I walked, I started thinking about myself in this world where Threads are everything. I don't even have a good thread to manifest or shape; all I can do is increase the physical stats of my body and nothing more people of my age are already have advanced to winder stage where they can manipulate more than one threads in their vessel but why can i only manipulate one thread in my vessel .
why i am even born like this , people can show the sign of manifesting threads from the age of 3 but i started to manifest my thread at the age of 8 People sometimes manifest threads late, but not that late.
even though i am not born with a lord vessel at least i hoped to advance like normal people yet i cant even get to inciate stage. In the whole history of Vaylen, there are people who did great many things without being born with a lord vessel . but in my case i am just a nobody .
Ahh, I hate it when fate restrains me. I want to compete. I want to win too .
some where far on a remote place at night on the continent of Elysarra
Moonlight seeped through the fractured stained glass of the ancient throne room, casting jagged shards of pale blue and crimson across the cold marble floor. The air hung thick with the scent of stale incense and forgotten rituals, a silence so profound it felt like the chamber itself held its breath. High above, faint threads of ethereal light pulsed faintly, like the heartbeat of a slumbering giant.
From the shadowed archway, three cloaked figures emerged, their dark black robes whispering against the stone. Their faces were lost in deep hoods and mask with distinct lining, but their steps were deliberate, synchronised as if drawn by an invisible force. They approached the grand altar at the room's heart, a monolithic slab of obsidian etched with swirling runes that seemed to writhe in the dim glow.
Atop the altar sat a form, vast and still, swathed in shadows so absolute they devoured the light. Threads of faint essence twined around it, pulsing with a cold, rhythmic life, as if the darkness itself breathed.
The lead figure stepped forward, kneeling with a rustle of fabric. A pale hand emerged from the robe, clutching a twisted silver ring that gleamed unnaturally.
"It's time, Mother" the figure intoned, the voice was low and resonant, echoing like a distant thunder.
A subtle ripple coursed through the shadowed form. The threads brightened around her , coiling tighter, and a chill warmth flooded the chamber an awakening that sent cracks spiderwebbing across the stained glass.
The three figures retreated into the gloom, vanishing as silently as they had come. Silence reclaimed the room, broken only by the faint moan of wind through the cracks.