Threadless : A growing novel

By the time Rin found him, Tovan was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the secret chamber, surrounded by hovering scrolls and visibly bargaining with a particularly smug-looking one.

"No, I don't want to join your cursed pact," he muttered. "I was just admiring your calligraphy."

"Tovan?" Rin's voice cut through the low hum of floating runes.

He whirled around. "Rin! Thank the fox—something talked. They've been floating here like they know things. This one keeps spinning every time I lie."

Iris appeared behind Rin, her eyes narrowing. "What is this place?"

Rin stepped inside slowly, gaze tracing the walls—her breath catching as she saw the fox-rune crest repeated in different variations.

"Thread storage," she murmured. "This… this isn't in the academy maps."

A scroll floated toward her. It hovered inches from her face, then dipped respectfully.

"It responded," she said softly.

"It judged me," Tovan whispered. "Said my historical essays were structurally weak."

Iris snorted, despite herself. "It's not wrong."

"I knew you'd say that."

They turned as Aro entered silently behind them, eyes scanning the walls. His voice, low and sharp:

"These are not merely records. They're edits."

Everyone looked up.

Aro continued: "Some of these scrolls… they're threaded in reverse. Someone has been rewriting events. Or… trying to."

Rin reached for one with trembling fingers. It danced away before settling softly into her palm. She turned it, eyes widening.

Her name. Not once, but dozens of times—buried in different contexts. Some with her real name, others with names she didn't recognize.

Tovan leaned in, whispering, "If they've been rewriting things… maybe someone forgot what was real."

Rin looked up. "Or someone wanted us to."