The alley was empty.
Or at least...
It appeared empty.
The traveler stood motionless.
The smile had vanished from his face.
"You're late."
The shadows shifted.
Not naturally.
Not as darkness should.
Something emerged.
Not a person.
Not quite.
A silhouette.
An outline reality struggled to define.
"You're early."
The shadow replied.
The traveler sighed.
"Everyone says that."
Silence followed.
The city continued beyond the alley.
People laughed.
Merchants argued.
Life moved on.
Unaware that two individuals capable of changing nations were speaking a few streets away.
"Is it him?"
The shadow asked.
The traveler's gaze drifted upward.
Toward the distant rooftop where Eryndor stood.
"Yes."
"And?"
A pause.
The traveler thought carefully.
Because words mattered.
Especially for people like them.
"Origin has awakened."
The shadow became still.
Not physically.
Conceptually.
That single statement carried terrifying implications.
"How much does he know?"
"Very little."
"How much does reality know?"
The traveler smiled.
"Far too much."
The shadow cursed softly.
That worried it more.
Far more.
Then both disappeared.
Not through movement.
Not through teleportation.
They simply ceased occupying that location.
Meanwhile.
Imperial Observation Tower.
Panic.
Controlled panic.
The worst kind.
Dozens of officers worked frantically around a massive projection of golden Threads.
Reports arrived every minute.
"Traveler sighted in Sector Four."
"Negative."
"Sector Seven."
"Negative."
"Western district."
"Lost again."
The commander rubbed his forehead.
"How does one man keep disappearing?"
Nobody answered.
Because nobody knew.
A young observer swallowed.
"Sir."
"What?"
"He's not disappearing."
The room fell silent.
The observer pointed toward the Thread display.
A single golden line.
It never vanished.
It never changed.
It simply ignored distance.
"..."
"..."
The commander stared.
Then realization struck.
"Oh."
The room suddenly felt much colder.
"That's worse."
Much worse.
Because disappearing was a trick.
Ignoring distance...
Was a statement.
Back on the rooftop.
Kael was annoyed.
This was his natural state.
But now he was professionally annoyed.
The most dangerous kind.
"Someone explain."
Nobody did.
"Wonderful."
He pointed at Eryndor.
"You."
"What?"
"Your weirdness attracted another weird person."
"I don't think that's how this works."
"Look around."
Kael gestured broadly.
"The evidence disagrees."
Orvayn adjusted his glasses.
"Technically speaking, correlation does not establish causation."
Kael pointed at him.
"Stop helping."
The scholar immediately looked pleased.
That worried Kael.
Then.
The rooftop door opened.
A messenger appeared.
Breathing heavily.
"Captain Virex."
Kael frowned.
"I hate that tone."
The messenger handed him a sealed document.
Imperial insignia.
Black wax.
Highest priority.
Kael broke the seal.
Read the contents.
Read them again.
"..."
His expression didn't change.
That was unusual.
Eryndor immediately noticed.
Something's wrong.
Kael lowered the letter.
"Orvayn."
"Yes?"
"How much do you know about the Great Houses?"
The scholar froze.
That got Eryndor's attention.
Because Orvayn rarely froze.
"Which one?"
Kael handed over the letter.
Orvayn read.
Then.
For perhaps the first time.
The scholar looked genuinely alarmed.
"The Lunar Family."
The wind suddenly felt colder.
Eryndor frowned.
"I've never heard of them."
"Most people haven't."
Orvayn replied.
"That's intentional."
He stared at the document.
"The House of Lunaris has remained neutral for almost two centuries."
"Why?"
"Because neutrality is profitable."
Kael answered.
Then his expression darkened.
"But apparently..."
He looked toward the city center.
"They've sent someone."
The rooftop became silent.
That wasn't normal.
The Great Houses didn't involve themselves lightly.
Especially not House Lunaris.
Orvayn's thoughts raced.
Why now?
The timing was impossible.
Origin.
The Traveler.
The Church's recent activity.
The strange Thread disturbances.
And now House Lunaris.
Pieces were moving.
He simply couldn't see the full picture yet.
And he hated that.
Questions outlive answers.
His personal philosophy.
Usually comforting.
Not today.
Elsewhere.
A carriage rolled through the northern gate.
Its exterior bore no insignia.
No noble crest.
No identifying marks.
Inside sat a young woman.
She was reading.
Or pretending to.
The book had remained on the same page for twenty minutes.
Because her attention was elsewhere.
Outside.
The city.
The people.
The Threads.
And one particular anomaly.
Her silver-gray eyes narrowed slightly.
Origin.
The word echoed through her thoughts.
Not with fear.
Not with excitement.
Curiosity.
Dangerous curiosity.
The kind that changed history.
Across from her sat an elderly attendant.
"Lady Elira."
She looked up.
"What?"
"You've been staring out the window."
"No I haven't."
"You have."
"..."
"..."
"Fine."
The attendant sighed.
"I knew this would happen."
"What would?"
"You found another mystery."
Elira smiled faintly.
That answer was enough.
The old attendant immediately understood.
Somewhere.
Someone's life was about to become significantly more complicated.
And judging by the reports...
That someone was named Eryndor.
Outside.
The carriage continued toward the city center.
Neither passenger noticed the man standing atop a distant clock tower.
Watching.
Waiting.
Smiling.
The Traveler.
For the first time all day...
He seemed pleased.
"Good."
He whispered.
"Let the pieces meet."
Far above.
Hidden beyond mortal sight.
The Threads of the Infinite Weave shifted.
Not dramatically.
Not violently.
Like a game board being prepared.
And somewhere deep within reality itself...
Something ancient turned its attention toward Velkaris Prime.
Not a Throne.
Not yet.
But something old enough to remember when the world was still fluid.