Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
The Guardian of the Threads startled. The stability of the Threads had shown an unmistakable sign: an alteration of the fragile balance that sustained the union between A’aru and the human world.
She was alone on a wide balcony of her palace, looking at the pearly sky and the infinite horizon of A’aru, when she noticed it.
It lasted only a couple of minutes, but she had no doubt: a Silver Thread was behaving abnormally.
Considering recent events and the threat looming over them, she had to be especially careful when deciding how to act.
She looked up at the complex network of thousands, millions of Silver Threads hanging above her.
Who were they?
Who dared to alter the sacred balance she had imposed?
Livid, she verified the identities of the culprits.
“It’s you again, Aldana,” she murmured through gritted teeth. She didn’t care what the Guardian of Oblivion said; she was a growing threat. If there was anyone who could plunge them into the void, it was that vile A’aruin.
Decisively, she crossed the threshold of the window toward her hall, but instead of arriving there, she found herself in the middle of a garden in the human world. A young woman was waking up, sitting on a bench, looking at her hands as if seeing them for the first time.
It was Aldana. Although human, she strangely had a physical appearance that, in a way, evoked her ancestral form.
She approached warily, examining the Silver Thread, which looked perfectly normal at that moment.
Her A’aruin was nowhere to be seen, which she found especially suspicious, since he surely had noticed the anomaly as well.
The young woman looked up, and the Guardian of the Threads paralyzed.
For a second she thought the girl was looking right at her, but seeing her continue to contemplate the garden with indifference, she assumed it was just a coincidence.
She checked the Thread carefully. Using a crystal to see its internal weave, she noticed that this Thread was exceptionally firm, healthy, and stable. Yes, without a doubt, it was a Pillar Thread—one of the oldest lineage threads of A’aru.
How had she not noticed it before?
There weren’t many of those left; they were Threads whose strength made them act as a backbone in the union between A’aru and the human world.
Cutting that Thread would threaten the entire architecture of the system.
Perhaps that was why the Guardian of Oblivion defended that girl so much.
Surely he knew her lineage from before the New Order and assumed she would have a Pillar Thread.
She ground her teeth, annoyed. Cutting that Silver Thread, for the moment, did not seem like a reasonable solution. She would have to keep observing her to understand what had happened. She was leaving when she felt it.
Her sharp instinct alerted her to an invisible but latent danger: there were Shadows lurking in the place.
She turned, ready to finish them immediately before another Breach could fissure the human plane, when she noticed a slight gesture from the young woman’s hand toward where she could feel them.
They retreated, docile and leaving no trace.
The young woman’s Thread never alerted that she was in danger.
It couldn’t be… had she imagined it?
* * *
The following morning, Augustine opened her eyes with a striking lucidity.
She recalled her encounter with Alderian repeatedly while she got ready to go out.
Returning to her ordinary life felt, in a way, bland and hollow.
Perhaps that was why Alderian had warned her against the dangers of going too deep into the dream world.
They were playing a dangerous game, and the visit from that woman last night suggested they weren’t going entirely unnoticed.
She quickly checked her email before leaving the house. One message caught her attention: it was an invitation to take part in a podcast renowned for scientific outreach. She opened the message incredulously as she read it.
“Dear Ms. Augustine: We have followed the development of your YouTube channel with great interest, and we look favorably upon how you apply sophisticated scientific principles to develop your ideas. We would be delighted to host you as a guest on an upcoming episode of the Everyday Science podcast.”
The email continued giving details of dates and locations, but Augustine didn’t keep reading. She let out a great shout of excitement and pulled her Silver Thread with urgency.
“What happened?” Alderian was panting; it seemed he had been doing some kind of strenuous exertion, judging by the sweat on his forehead.
“I’ve been invited to a podcast I adore! I always mention them in my videos, I can’t believe they noticed me!”
“You silly girl, you scared me,” Alderian complained, but he was smiling widely while he checked the email with her. “It’s quite soon. Do you feel ready?”
“Of course I do! The programs are conversational; it’s nothing I can’t answer.”
“Look at you, so famous.”
A few minutes later she left the house and encountered an unusual scene: a dozen A’aruin were stationed in her front yard.
She struggled to feign ignorance and not attempt to evade them as she walked toward the front gate.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noted their attire was different: they looked like warriors, with elegant silver armor and a stoic appearance that commanded respect. They were not ordinary A’aruin.
“What is happening?” Alderian asked behind her. Augustine was struck by the hierarchy his voice conveyed. She noticed he had his black wings visible as he adopted a warlike stance.
Augustine discreetly organized some pots in the garden and checked her phone, eager to overhear the conversation.
“We have this human under surveillance by instruction of the High Council,” responded the highest-ranking A’aruin.
“Last night, atypical activity occurred in one of the Threads in this area. We must maintain active surveillance over her and the humans linked to her by blood until the Council decrees otherwise.”
Were they referring to her family?
A heaviness invaded her chest—a kind of visceral rage at the realization that they were attempting to curb her free will.
“I have witnessed these raids before. They subject the members of a clan to such relentless pressure that, eventually, someone betrays the rest, providing testimony, whether factual or fabricated. That is all the Guardian of the Threads requires; she then possesses all the evidence she needs to sever their Threads,” Alderian’s voice was firm.
“It is a coercive measure that has resulted in innocent people being unjustly accused and punished.”
“Do you oppose the instruction of the High Council?”
“I demand to be received by the High Council to revoke this measure.”
The A’aruin held Alderian’s gaze firmly for a few seconds until he finally gave in and looked down. He nodded in silence and disappeared. Alderian left right after him.
Augustine broke into a cold sweat as she overheard the tense discussion.
A foreboding sensation seized her; she was certain she was the prime suspect.
Not for nothing had that woman examined her Silver Thread with such care.
What was she planning then, by subjecting her entire family to surveillance?
It worried her deeply that they would involve them in something they were completely innocent of.
She left the house in a hurry; with all the events of the morning, she was running later than intended. As she walked down the street, three of the A’aruin followed closely behind.