The tunnel's mouth breathed cold wind.
Not natural wind—but the draft of something deeper, older, carved long before cities existed, carved long before men tried naming fate.
Aarinen took the first step inside.
The shard warmed in his palm, pulsing like a heartbeat guiding him forward. The cavern behind them dimmed, shrinking into silence as the tunnel swallowed their silhouettes.
Saevel walked close at his side, blade unsheathed.Torren followed behind her, muttering curses about "ancient holes leading to ancient deaths."Rafi stumbled a few steps behind, whispering prayers he didn't believe in.Lirael brought up the rear, her palms glowing faintly with ready runes.
The stone corridor narrowed, forcing them into single file.
The walls whispered.
Not voices—not sounds—the faint sensation of words rubbed out of the world.
Rafi shivered violently. "This place hates being remembered."
Lirael nodded. "It was built for forgetting."
Aarinen pressed onward.The shard tugged harder.
The air shifted from cold to colder, until each breath felt like drawing winter into his lungs.
Torren grumbled, "I can't feel my fingers."
Saevel responded dryly, "Complain louder; the Weaver might hear and send a blanket."
Rafi whimpered.
Aarinen said nothing.His thoughts spiraled inward, circling the memory that had returned in the erasure chamber.
Eryna laughing.Eryna crying.Eryna reaching for him as she was taken.
A promise he had broken.
He tightened his grip on the shard.
He would not break it again.
A Whisper in the Dark
Half an hour passed.Or an hour.Time dissolved in the tunnel; the world outside felt unreal.
The floor sloped gradually downward.Moisture dripped from the ceiling.Whispers drifted along the walls, brushing their skin like invisible fingertips.
Torren spun suddenly. "Someone said my name."
"No one did," Saevel muttered.
Torren glared. "Someone definitely said—"
"You are hearing echoes," Lirael said. "This place stores the last words spoken in fear or defiance. They resurface."
Torren shivered. "Fantastic."
Rafi whispered, "What if the words spoken here are ours now?"
Aarinen stiffened slightly.
Because he had heard something too.Not his name—not a word—but a breath.
Small.Short.Childlike.
And then:
"…Aari…"
He stopped.
Saevel turned sharply. "What?"
Aarinen didn't answer.
He listened.
The tunnel breathed again—
"…late… again…"
Aarinen's chest tightened.
Lirael spoke softly, carefully. "Fragments linger. Do not follow the voice."
Aarinen whispered, "What if it's her?"
"It isn't," Lirael said. "Fragments mimic. Memories mislead. The Weaver loves to anchor false hopes."
The voice whispered again:
"…you never came…"
Saevel grabbed Aarinen's arm.He didn't pull away.
Her voice was steady, low."Aarinen. Look at me."
He did.
She held his gaze.
"You came now."
Aarinen inhaled slowly—painfully—but his heartbeat steadied.
He nodded.
The shard vibrated.Pulling them forward again.
The Carvings
The tunnel broadened until they reached a chamber supported by enormous stone pillars. The walls changed—the plain stone replaced by carvings.
Symbols.Spirals.Lines intertwining like threads.
Torren approached them cautiously. "Do these mean anything? Or are they just decorative terrors?"
Lirael stepped beside him.
Her breath hitched.
"These are Loom-glyphs."
Rafi nearly fainted. "No. No, no, no. We're not supposed to read those. Or look at them. Or be near them."
Torren frowned at the carvings. "What do they say?"
Lirael hesitated.
"They speak of the first cut thread."
Saevel arched a brow. "The first what?"
"The first thread ever erased," Lirael said.
Rafi whimpered. "Why would anyone write that down—"
"Because the Weaver remembers everything," Lirael said. "And the Loom writes in stone the things the world must forget."
Aarinen felt the carvings pull at something inside him—as though the shapes recognized him.
He reached toward them without thinking.
Lirael caught his wrist."Do not touch them."
Aarinen blinked. "Why?"
"Because these glyphs react to defiant threads," she said.
Saevel frowned. "Meaning other chosen ones?"
Lirael shook her head.
"Meaning threads that resist the Weaver."
Aarinen exhaled slowly.
"Like mine."
Lirael nodded once.
Torren muttered, "Great. The wall hates him too."
Rafi whispered, "Everything hates him. Even fate."
Aarinen turned away from the carvings.
He did not need the walls to tell him what had been lost.
The shard pulsed again.
They moved.
The Door of Unspoken Names
The tunnel ended in a massive gate—twenty feet tall, made of stone darker than night.Its surface was carved with countless names.
Saevel stepped forward."Are these…?"
Lirael nodded."Names erased from fate."
Torren blanched. "All of them? That's hundreds."
"Thousands," Lirael whispered."This place is older than Karathra. Older than the Orders."
Aarinen stepped closer.
The names shifted.
Not physically—but visually.As though they blurred whenever he tried to read them.
He reached out.
Saevel grabbed his arm again. "You're going to get yourself erased before we find your sister."
Aarinen whispered, "I'm not touching it."
He held the shard close.
The gate reacted.
A tremor rippled across its surface.The names stilled.Then parted.
A seam formed—narrow at first, then widening like an eyelid awakening.
Torren took a step back."Nope. Not entering stone eyes. Not today. Not ever."
Rafi hid behind him. "Agreed."
Lirael whispered, "This is not a door for mortals."
Saevel looked at Aarinen.
"But it opens for him."
He stepped through.
The Hall of Lost Guardians
The chamber beyond the door stretched impossibly far.
Rows of stone statues lined the walls—men, women, warriors, farmers, monks, wanderers.Different ages.Different clothes.Different lives.
All carved with precision so perfect they seemed frozen mid-breath.
Rafi's jaw dropped."Who… are they…?"
Lirael answered quietly.
"Guardians."
Saevel frowned. "Guardians of what?"
"Children like Eryna," Lirael said. "Children born with silence. Children fate marks as dangerous."
Torren's voice tightened. "And these… statues… were once alive?"
Lirael nodded.
"The Weaver preserved them after erasing them."
Rafi gasped. "Their bodies… their memories… sealed in stone?"
"Yes."
"But why?" Saevel asked.
Lirael's eyes darkened.
"So their silence can be used."
Aarinen looked at the faces.
Frozen.Still.Sad.
He wondered how many had protected children.How many had died fighting cloaked figures.How many had stood against the Weaver without knowing they never had a chance.
The shard pulsed again.
Aarinen moved deeper into the hall.
Torren whispered, "This feels wrong."
"It is wrong," Saevel said. "Very."
Rafi clung to Saevel's cloak. "Please don't leave me behind. I'll die. I'll scream and then die."
Saevel patted his head absently. "Stay close."
Aarinen approached a statue of a woman with braided hair—the same woman from the cave.
His breath caught.
Saevel whispered, "The nursemaid."
Lirael nodded."Her imprint was strong. Strong enough to leave a memory in the stone."
Aarinen touched the statue gently.The stone warmed briefly.
A whisper escaped its lips—not a voice,not a sentence—just a breath of regret.
"…too late…"
Aarinen pulled away, jaw tight.
"We keep going."
They moved deeper.
More statues.More guardians.More faces that once breathed and loved and fought.
And then—
They entered a second hall.
Smaller.Narrower.The air heavier.
Here, the statues were all of children.
Saevel stopped cold.
Torren swore.Rafi fainted again.
Aarinen felt ice creep through his chest.
Dozens of tiny statues stood before them—each with hands outstretched,faces carved with fear or confusion.
Lirael's voice trembled.
"These were children taken before the world could forget them."
Saevel wiped her eyes."I hate this place."
Aarinen forced himself forward.
The shard pulsed again.
Hard.Harder.
As though resonating with something in the chamber.
Aarinen stopped.
One statue—smaller than the rest,hair carved to fall over its eyes—glowed faintly.
Saevel whispered, "Is that—?"
Aarinen stepped closer.
No.Not Eryna.
A boy.
Hands raised as if trying to push something away.
Lirael approached slowly.
"This child resisted more than most. He nearly broke the Weaver's hold. His echo lingers."
Torren pointed at the faint glow. "That looks like a spell."
"Not a spell," Lirael corrected."A plea."
Aarinen placed the shard near the statue.
The boy's voice whispered:
"…not her… please… not her…"
Aarinen froze.
Saevel whispered, "He tried to protect her."
Torren clenched his fist. "Another guardian?"
Lirael shook her head.
"No."
Aarinen closed his eyes.
"A friend."
The shard pulsed again, pulling him forward.
The hall ended in a narrow corridor.
Cold wind seeped from the darkness.
Rafi regained consciousness just in time to see the tunnel.
"No more tunnels! Please! I'll stay here with the stone children!"
Torren dragged him forward by the collar. "Move."
Aarinen stepped into the corridor.
He felt it immediately.
The air changed.The wind reversed.The shard pulsed three times.
And then—
He heard it.
A breath.
Soft.Faint.Real.
Not an echo.Not a fragment.
A child's breath.
"…Aari…?"
Aarinen's legs nearly buckled.
Saevel grabbed him."What do you hear?"
Aarinen swallowed hard.
"Her," he whispered.
Torren paled."Her her? Or fragment her?"
"No," Lirael said quietly, her eyes widening."If the shard reacts like that—"
Aarinen stepped forward.
"Eryna."
Silence.
Then—a tiny voice.
"…you found me…"
Aarinen's breath collapsed.
But the voice continued—
"…Aari… run…"
Saevel grabbed him. "SOMETHING'S COMING—"
The corridor trembled.
The wind reversed again—sucking air downward like a beast inhaling.
The shard burned in Aarinen's hand.
Lirael shouted a warning.Torren drew his blade.Rafi screamed louder than anything that had ever lived.
The shadows ahead began to move.
Not one shape.Not two.
Hundreds.
Tall.Cloaked.Silent.
The Weaver's agents.
Aarinen whispered, voice steady despite the terror filling the tunnel:
"They know I'm coming."
Saevel stepped beside him, dagger raised."Good."
Torren cracked his neck. "About time something made sense."
Rafi wailed. "NOT GOOD!"
Lirael whispered a single word.
And the runes on her arms ignited.
The shadows surged.
Aarinen tightened his grip on the shard.
"Eryna," he whispered.
"I'm almost there."
The darkness crashed toward them.
And the chapter ended in the clash of fate and defiance.