"You can only control the fire when you stop being afraid of what it might burn."
—An old saying from the Soulweavers, carved into the walls of the First Archive
When we stepped outside, there was something different in the air.
It felt colder.
Sharper too.
It was as if the moment Mio put that mask on, the world took a deep breath and just held it there, forgetting to let it go.
The Veiled Hills behind us seemed to shiver with ancient whispers. No birds flew above us anymore. The trees leaned in closer, almost as if they were waiting to see what we'd do next, like they were our judges.
Mio walked ahead, her cloak fluttering gently behind her in the mountain wind.
But I could feel something wasn't quite right.
I noticed it before I actually saw it.
Reality was bending around her.
The Wake of a Soulweaver Heir
Mio's footsteps were leaving trails of shimmering symbols—sort of like frost, but glowing in shades of soft violet and silver. Everywhere she walked, blades of grass changed into new patterns, rearranging themselves as if they were dancing to a silent tune. Time felt like it was slowing down a little. Even the wind didn't dare touch her directly; it simply flowed around her, avoiding her like a river winding around a rock.
"You're glowing," I commented, trying to keep my voice steady.
She turned around to face me.
Her eyes weren't just violet anymore; they sparkled like tiny prisms catching the light.
"I feel… different," she confessed. "It's like I'm hearing a song that I forgot I used to write."
Then she placed her hand against a rock wall that was beside the path.
Suddenly, it pulsed with strange symbols. A heartbeat later, the stone turned into pure light and floated away on the breeze.
I took a step back.
"Mio… you're changing the world around you. It's not just that you're interacting with it—you're rewriting it without even realizing."
She stared at her hands, then clenched them into fists.
"Then I need to take control. I don't want this power to just decide for me."
Training the Flame
That night, we set up camp next to a crumbling ruin—a long-abandoned Soulweaver relay tower. It still had a little bit of energy left in its crystal structure, creating a faint shield around us. The air felt heavy, as if it was full of unsaid words.
Mio sat cross-legged in the magic light circle we created. With her eyes closed, a soft glow began to pulse from her chest.
Not from her heart.
From her Core Flame.
"What are you trying to do?" I asked, curious.
"I'm trying to find my grounding point," she responded, her voice distant and echoing. "If I can't find what keeps me stable, I might end up rewriting even my own memories."
I had never heard her sound this scared before.
"What if I forget who I am, Leon?" she whispered, her voice tremulous. "What if the flame consumes me?"
I moved closer and knelt down beside her in the soft glow.
"Then I will hold onto those memories for both of us."
She looked up at me, surprised by my words.
But I meant exactly what I said.
The Dream-Slice Test
When dawn broke, she stood among the ruins and lifted her hand to the sky. A thin wave pulsed from her palm, slicing through the air like a sharp knife.
Reality cracked.
And for a fleeting moment, another sky appeared over ours. It was like looking into a dream that was merging with the present.
But then she pulled her hand back.
Breathless and amazed, she said, "I did it. I held it for three seconds."
"That wasn't just a trick," I replied. "You reached through the layers of reality. You brought another world into ours."
She nodded slowly, a deep understanding dawning on her. "It's bleeding. Because I'm here. Because I'm aware."
Suddenly, we heard rustling in the trees around us.
It wasn't caused by the wind.
It was fear.
The Arrival of the Watchers
Figures cloaked in black emerged from the shadows. Their robes had no logos, only gray masks and belts woven from ley-thread.
They didn't say a word.
But I recognized who they were.
The Memoryless.
A secretive group. Warriors who had severed their soul-codes and erased their identities from the world's system. They were immune to memory corruption. Immune to the Architect's powers.
"Why are they here?" I asked, a bit uneasy.
Mio squinted at them. "They felt it. My awakening. They might think I'm a danger to them."
The leader stepped forward—taller than the rest, with a mask that had a crack running through it. He drew a circle in the air with his finger.
Instead of sparking magic, it just faded away.
Proof that they didn't use code. They relied purely on instinct.
"Soulweaver," he said in a voice that sounded like a low echo coming from deep within a cave, "you bleed into our world."
"You are unrooted and unchecked. You walk the thin line between flame and nothingness. We came to give you a warning."
Mio didn't flinch. "I already know I'm a danger. But the real question is—are you here to help me, or to take me down?"
The man tilted his head, considering her words.
"We're offering a trial. If you make it through, we'll teach you control. If you fail, the world will be spared the consequences of your collapse."
I stepped in front of her, unable to hold back. "You touch her, and you'll find out how powerful a Codeheart can rewrite."
But Mio raised her hand, calming me.
"Leon. Let me give it a shot."
The Trial of Silence
That night, inside a circle made completely of null-code—where no spells or memories could reach her—Mio faced her trial.
The Memoryless named it The Stillness.
She would be left alone, trapped inside a dream shaped by her worst fears, with no flame, no weapon, and no magic. Just her sense of self to guide her.
"How long will she be in there?" I asked, watching worriedly.
"Minutes for us. Years for her," the masked one responded.
"And if she fails?" I questioned, my heart heavy with dread.
"She becomes like us. Empty. Free from memories. Free from pain."
I stared at the shimmering dream-space, anxiety gnawing at me.
"If she forgets who she is," I said firmly, "I'm going in after her."
When She Returned
Exactly three minutes later, she emerged.
Her eyes were shining.
Her feet were bare.
And the dream-space she left behind had crumbled into ash.
The Memoryless bowed their heads, paying their respects to her return.
"She broke the Stillness," one of them murmured. "She remembered something stronger than her fears."
Mio stood confidently before them, radiating energy.
"I remembered him," she said, gazing at me. "I remembered that I'm not alone."
One by one, the Memoryless knelt in silence.
And one by one, they offered their swords to her.
An Heir With a Legion
We left the Veiled Hills not just as fugitives anymore…
We emerged as something far more threatening.
A Soulweaver Heir with the ability to change reality.
A Codeheart with the strength to influence systems.
And a growing band of the Memoryless, ready to rise up against kings, deities, and forgotten laws.