The silver thread floated between us, humming softly. A memory, a truth, a curse.
I could barely breathe.
Behind me, Riven stood frozen. Kael remained still, his expression unreadable—but his aura pulsed with tension, like he already knew what this meant.
The Keeper watched me closely. "The Loom cannot be undone without cost. To sever the thread means to choose. One bond must break for another to survive."
"Why?" I rasped.
"Because desire is the root of all power," he said simply. "And you desire both light and shadow. The Loom was never meant to carry such conflict."
I turned away from him, from the thread, from fate. My thoughts were fire, crashing into ice.
Kael stepped forward first. "If it must be me, then let it be. I was the one who held your soul captive once. Maybe this is my redemption."
"No," Riven growled. "She doesn't owe either of us that choice. Sera, you don't have to sacrifice anything. We find another way."
"There is no other way," the Keeper said. "You must choose."
Silence swelled between us.
I felt the pull of both of them. Kael, the one who saw my power even when I was broken. Riven, the one who saw my heart even when it was buried in vengeance. They were both pieces of me—of the girl I was, the woman I had become.
"I'm tired of being a weapon," I whispered. "Tired of being fate's tool."
The Keeper extended the thread again. "Then choose, Sera. And let your desire write the next chapter."
For a long time, I said nothing.
Then I reached forward—slowly, shaking.
The moment my fingers brushed the thread, visions flooded me. Kael dying again. Riven fading into shadows. A future torn apart. But there was one image that held—stronger than the rest.
Me… alone.
Alive. Powerful. Free. But with no one at my side.
My hands trembled.
And then Kael placed his over mine.
"You don't have to be alone," he said gently. "But you do have to be true."
I turned, met his eyes. "And what if the truth destroys us?"
"Then let it," Riven said, stepping beside me. "Let it destroy what isn't real—so what remains is something we build, not something fate decided."
Tears welled in my eyes. My heart cracked open—and I finally understood:
This was never about choosing between them.
It was about choosing myself.
So I let go of the thread.
And in that instant, the Loom screamed.
---