Chapter 122
The Voice in the Void
Kaelen, Lira, and the First Weaver find themselves in a grey void where the loom stands over a chasm. The voice demands the home itself, and Kaelen must speak what home means to fill the hunger. The void takes form as a child with Elara's eyes, asking if he will stay.
The golden light did not fade. It consumed. Kaelen felt the field peel away like old skin, the violet sky shredding into shards of light that scattered into nothing. The grass beneath his feet turned to ash, then to silence, then to a grey expanse that stretched in all directions without horizon.
Lira's hand found his. He held it tight.
The First Weaver stood a few paces away, her grey wool tunic untouched by the dissolution. Her eyes were fixed on the loom, which had not dissolved—it stood at the center of the grey, its frame dark and splintered, the woven surface gone, replaced by a gaping hole that pulsed with a slow, rhythmic breath.
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