The fire had burned low. Faint golden light stretched across the wooden floor, warm against Lumen's cheek as he stirred from sleep.
He blinked slowly.
His body ached — not sharp pain, just the weight of exhaustion settling into his bones. His fingers twitched, brushing against the wool blanket, and something deep in his left hand pulsed softly.
A presence. A shift.
The threads were louder now.
Across the room, Rin sat on her mat, cross-legged and calm, sharpening her blade with slow, practiced strokes. She didn't look up.
"About time," she muttered. "You snore like a broken chimney."
He rubbed his face. "How long was I out?"
"Most of a day. You collapsed right after the fight. Scared the life out of me."
"You dragged me?"
She smirked. "Didn't have a choice. You were heavier than you look. Like a sack of wet hay."
He sat up slowly. "The village?"
"Back to normal. Or close. Kids woke up. No more strings in the walls. The creepy priestess thing's body dissolved into ash, if you're wondering. No funeral." Her voice lowered. "But the people… they're grateful."
As if on cue, a knock came at the door.
A young boy peeked in, holding a loaf of dark bread wrapped in cloth. "Scarecrow?" he asked quietly.
Lumen blinked.
Rin motioned him in. The boy stepped forward, placed the loaf near Lumen's feet, and whispered:
"Thank you. For the dream waking."
Then he fled before either of them could speak.
Lumen picked up the bread, turning it over in his hands. Still warm.
"You made an impression," Rin said.
"Wasn't trying to."
"Doesn't matter."
He frowned and opened his hand again. The mark of his sigil glimmered faintly beneath the skin. Threads coiled beneath his fingers — tighter, denser. More alive than ever.
A system ping echoed faintly in his mind:
🛠️ [Skill Upgrade Detected]
→ Snareweave II
— Multi-thread deployment enabled
— Thread delay functions unlocked
— Enhanced tactile sensing: proximity alerts and emotional ripples
— Efficiency +17%
— Trap memory storage (1 use)
He could see faint lines now — threads dancing at the edge of his vision when he focused. Tiny signals in the air, like silk reacting to sound.
It made him smile. Just a little.
"You're glowing again," Rin said dryly.
"Better than twitching."
They packed quietly.before they left, the village chief met them near the chapel gate.
He gave Lumen a new pair of winter boots, lined with felt, and a small pouch of dried seeds "for the road." Rin received a forest-green cloak. Both garments had faint sigil markings woven inside.
And then the beast arrived.
It was not a horse — more like a thick-bodied mountain dray with shaggy fur and mournful eyes, its long ears twitching sideways as it stared at Lumen.
"What is that?" Rin asked, stepping back.
The stablehand patted the creature's flank. "Trusty thing. Doesn't bite unless you ask it to. No name. You can give it one."
Lumen crouched to meet its gaze. It blinked slowly, tail curling like an old rope.
"Kein." he murmured.
The stablehand laughed. "Suit yourself."
Rin rolled her eyes. "Let's just hope it walks faster than it thinks."
As they reached the edge of Hollowrest, a chill wind tugged at their cloaks.
Lumen paused. He reached into his coat, drew out the mask — the same one he'd worn on the day he ran — and slipped it over his face.
Rin glanced at him. "You sure about that?"
He nodded. "The world feels smaller with it on. Like it fits better."
"Alright, Scarecrow. Just don't forget you've got a face under there."
He didn't answer. But he tightened the scarf around his neck — the one that once belonged to Bram — and walked forward.
The trail was slow. Snow had thinned into patches, revealing dirt and frostbitten grass. The Threadbeast lumbered along without complaint, carrying their supplies in silence.
They didn't talk much.
It was the kind of quiet that wasn't uncomfortable. Just… worn.
By twilight, they stopped beneath a tall pine ridge. Rin unrolled the mats while Lumen worked a small ember-thread into a flickering cookfire.
Then they noticed it.
Their food bundle was gone.
Rin stood sharply. "Did you move it?"
"No," Lumen said. His eyes narrowed.
The thread he'd anchored to the bag earlier — a precaution — had been cut. Cleanly.
"Someone's close."
He activated Snareweave. Threads unfurled invisibly between the trees. One of them twitched — reacting to an echo. A faint shimmer in the air, like heat.
Then a loud snore broke the silence.
They turned.
Just off the path, lying under a tree, was a figure. Wrapped in mismatched cloaks, hood over his face, a half-eaten loaf of bread in one hand and a stolen apple in the other.
He was snoring.
"Seriously?" Rin muttered.
Lumen walked forward silently. His threads hovered above the ground. The man stirred — not from noise, but from the cold.
Then Lumen saw it.
A flicker. The scarf on the man's shoulder shifted. For a heartbeat, it appeared to be unwrapped. Then wrapped again.
Illusion.
He stepped closer and let Snareweave curl around the figure.
With a twist of his fingers, Lumen snapped the illusion thread.
The man flailed immediately.
"Okay! Alright, alright, no stabbing!" he coughed. "You caught me! Well done, very impressive! Can I at least keep the apple?"
Rin had her blade drawn already.
Lumen said nothing.
The man sat up, brushing snow from his coat. He looked younger than expected — maybe twenty, wiry, bright-eyed, with too many teeth in his smile and a mischievous glint that didn't belong in a frozen forest.
"Name's Gilger," he said cheerfully. "Professional wanderer, occasional performer, frequent mistake-maker. Pleased to be caught."
"You stole from us," Rin snapped.
"I borrowed from fate," Gilger replied. "Big difference."
"What's your sigil?" Lumen asked flatly.
Gilger raised both hands. "None! Me? Just a poor soul with fast fingers and bad luck."
Lumen tilted his head. "Then why didn't your breath fog just now?"
Gilger paused. Blinked.
"…Damn. That's a good question."
Before he could lie again, Snareweave wrapped tighter.
Lumen didn't need confirmation. The illusion had already broken.
Gilger grinned sheepishly. "Okay. You got me. Maybe I do have a tiny sigil. Barely worth mentioning. Nothing dangerous. Just… cosmetic enhancements."
Rin stepped forward. "You used it on us."
Gilger held his hand to his chest. "In my defense, I was very hungry. And charming."
"You're lucky he caught you," she said. "I would've gut-pinned you to that tree."
"Oh, she's the scary one. Noted."
Lumen sighed and stepped back.
"Sit down," he said. "One night. One meal. That's it."
Gilger blinked. "Seriously?"
"If you lie again," Lumen added, "I'll see it happen. And I'll cut the thread before you finish the word."
Gilger raised both hands. "You know, most people don't threaten hospitality. But sure. I'm in."
He sat cross-legged by the fire, already unwrapping a second stolen apple.
Rin shook her head and muttered, "This is a terrible idea."
"Probably," Lumen said.
They sat together in the snow-shadowed forest, fire crackling low.
Gilger hummed some tune from a faraway city. Rin kept one hand near her blade. Lumen watched the flames — and the threads around Gilger's hands, glowing faintly like mirages waiting to twist.
🛠️ [New Entity Logged: Gilger]
→ Status: Unknown Ally
→ Sigil: Undeclared (Suspected: Miragebrand)
→ Threat Level: Moderate
→ Motive: Unclear
→ Alignment: Variable
→ Observation Thread: Active
░Some threads pull. Others pretend. Only one can do both.░