Lin

  Light scattered like petals as Lin stumbled forward onto damp grass. Her feet skidded, barely finding balance, and she steadied herself with both hands out. The world swayed for a moment before her senses caught up. Cool air swept against her face, carrying the familiar scent of pine and rain-wet earth. Kerry Park.

  She looked around, her breathing shallow. The city unfurled below, glittering in the night. But her attention was drawn immediately to the edge of the park, where the threads converged in impossible brilliance.

  A bridge of light arched from the overlook, woven from thousands of golden strands that shimmered like living silk. It stretched into the air, wide enough for a person to walk across, its far end swallowed in a radiance that bent space itself.

  A portal.

  The sound it made was not like the music she’d known; it was deeper, harmonic, layered with echoes that pressed gently on her chest. Each note seemed to carry meaning she couldn’t yet name.

  Lin took a hesitant step forward, her form still faintly glowing, the grass around her bending toward the light. The hum filled her bones. She couldn’t look away. The portal’s surface rippled like molten glass, its color shifting from gold to violet and back again. It was both beautiful and terrifying; a wound in the sky that sang.

  She whispered without thinking, “It’s… announcing itself. I can... I can feel Auntie Ariel and Auntie Holly in the music...”

  For a long moment she just listened, the melody threading through her in soft waves. It was the same song she’d followed here, but vast now, fuller, like it had found its missing harmony.

  Then a voice came from behind her, warm and familiar.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Lin turned sharply, her light flickering brighter in surprise. Mestre Lucia stood a few paces behind her, hands tucked into her jacket pockets, smile gentle and knowing. The moonlight caught the faint silver in her dark hair, and for a moment, Lin’s mind couldn’t decide whether she was real or part of the light.

  “Mestre?” Lin breathed. “What are you doing here? You can see this?”

  Lucia chuckled softly. “Of course I can. I’ve seen these threads longer than you’ve been alive, menina.”

  The word carried its usual warmth, but there was something deeper in her tone—older, steadier. Lucia stepped closer, and as she did, the threads shifted, bowing subtly toward her.

  Lin’s breath caught. The older woman’s outline shimmered faintly, her features softening into something radiant and ageless. When she spoke again, her voice carried a resonance that hummed through the air.

  “My true name is Hlin,” she said gently. “I am a Goddess of Grief and Compassion.”

  Lin blinked, trying to make sense of it. “You... you're a Goddess? And you’ve been watching me?”

  Hlin nodded, eyes kind. “Always. You, your Aunt Holly, and the one she loves most.” She smiled faintly at Lin’s confusion. “I’ve guided her for years now, and just recently taught her to listen; to weave light into the places where love still lives.”

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  She gestured toward the portal, her expression softening with reverence. “That was her doing. Holly built it from memory, from love. Each thread anchored to moments she shared with Ariel. It is a bridge of devotion made real.”

  Lin looked back at the portal. The melody beneath its hum shifted subtly, and in that instant, she knew Hlin was telling the truth. Holly’s touch was there, woven through every shining strand.

  Lin lowered her gaze to her glowing hands, the light of the portal reflected in her skin. “Then why can I see them? The threads. Why could I always hear them?”

  Hlin stepped closer, her presence gentle and steady. “Because I gave you that sight before you were born.”

  Lin looked up, startled. “Before I was—?”

  “I reached out to you while you were still within your mother’s womb,” Hlin said softly. “I could feel the weight of what was coming. Something unnamed and terrible. I could not see the shape of it, but I knew it would reach for Ariel’s life. I needed another who could listen, another who could carry the light if all else failed.”

  She smiled with quiet pride. “Even then, you shone. Your heart sang to me, clear as morning. So I gave you my gift. I wove your soul into the threads.”

  Lin blinked, emotion welling in her chest. “Auntie Red and Auntie Holly… they love me like I am their own.”

  “She did,” Hlin said, her voice warm, eyes glimmering in the golden light. “With every fiber of their being.”

  The air around them trembled softly, a low rumble echoing through the threads.

  Lin turned her head toward the portal again. The light within it shimmered like breath, alive and waiting.

  “Then what am I supposed to do?” she asked quietly.

  Hlin joined her side, her gaze distant and thoughtful. “Something vast and quiet stirs on the other side. I have felt it for days now, ever since Holly restored the bridge between worlds. A being of oblivion called Gloymr hunts for Ariel. He has sent his Acolytes to find her.”

  She took a deep, uncertain breath.

  "Gloymr means to erase Ariel's soul from existence, and in doing so, erase her memory from the Pattern. If he succeeds, his power would only grow, and he's already become too much for myself or Saga to deal with on our own..."

  Lin frowned. “Then we should help her.”

  “I cannot cross that threshold,” Hlin murmured. “I must remain here. If the plan fails, someone must guard the outer threads. They tie our world to hers.”

  Lin looked up at her, heart beating fast. “What plan?”

  But before Hlin could answer...

  ...the world fell silent.

  The threads’ soft song ceased. The air stilled into suffocating quiet.

  Hlin turned slowly toward the portal, unease flickering across her features.

  “That’s never happened before,” she whispered.

  A deep rumble rolled out from the portal, faint at first but growing steadily until the ground beneath them trembled. The light within the bridge began to dim, gold fading to gray.

  Lin took an involuntary step back. “What’s happening?”

  The rumble grew louder, resolving into a pounding rhythm. Drums from somewhere distant yet impossibly close. Then came the sound of distorted chords, ugly and low, bleeding through the air like oil through water.

  Hlin’s expression hardened. “Something’s breaking through.”

  Black ichor began seeping from the edges of the portal, dripping down the golden bridge. The radiant strands hissed where the darkness touched them, curling and splitting apart.

  Hlin thrust her arm out. “Behind me, Lin!”

  Lin darted back as the goddess raised both hands, summoning a blazing shield of light. The portal erupted with a shattering roar, a blast of corrupted energy that tore across the park. The shield flared, holding against the force but straining, cracking at the edges.

  Dark fluid splattered across the ground, burning into the soil. The roar faded into ringing silence.

  Lin stared, her hands trembling, tears gathering in her eyes. The bridge was gone. Only ash and scattered threads remained.

  Hlin’s voice broke the quiet, small and raw.

  “No…”