Gwyn

It was built by people from another thread, great architects, sorcerers and philosophers. And it’s impressive, how they traveled over multiple threads (approximately five, though the threads have since shifted slightly) to get here. It was so long ago - during a time of instability for the closest threads too us - and yet they found their way.

The most notable part of this city they built was a circle of eight towers. The city has an inner and an outer ring, and in the outer one the eight towers stand guard. You can only ever see at most three at the same time, but everyone knows they form a circle.

The octagon, it is called.

Today most of the towers are overshadowed by newer buildings, however they still retain their significance. They house the main branches of the advanced academies, one of which, I go to.

It’s a beautiful place, our corner of the octagon.

It’s in the middle of a park called the Water Lily pond. Very self explanatory, indeed there is a pond and it is entirely full of water lilies that bloom in the spring.

The academy is right next to it, the newer buildings surrounding the tower like a skeleton around a heart. And the tower itself, it’s enchantments wearing off ages ago, is drooping, but still standing. It’s a part of the academy’s library now, and I find a very special sort of beauty in that. Stories in a place of history.

This weekend the elders, my parents, hosted their annual feast to celebrate the coming of winter. I have at last reached an age where I can attend. It was a lovely evening and I was drunk, not on spirits or seelie’s tears, but on pride and belief.

Belief that maybe I was worthy of more respect than I’ve received.

So I did what I’d been avoiding. I sent a letter to my closest friend, the one who’s been drifting. The one I’ve loved and feared and everything in between. I said my piece, simple and concise. This conflict between us is but a root in an entire system, but it was the only way I knew to voice my sadness.

And I’ve heard nothing.

I wanted to try to fix this, but it seems I was the only one left in the room. I have been pleading to ghosts and dust.

I love him still, I don’t know how not to, even after all this. I don’t know how to express the anger I carry within, I never do. So I suppress it, as I always do.

Naturally, this was not actually the first one I visited, it is prudent to start with threads close to one’s own, since they often share similar traits and… well, dangers.

This thread was nothing like mine, perhaps that is why I remember it so clearly despite being so very young. Before we headed off, we received multiple wards - ones I’d never heard of before and never seen used since. Even the Elders couldn’t cast them, we had to apply to the central branch of protective enchantments and get a specialized sorcerer to do it. I cried the entire time.

But I digress. The thread was peculiar in many ways, but the most remarkable - and terrifying - thing about it was the ground. The entire surface of the ground was covered in a thin but extremely potent kind of toxin. It was natural to the thread, but corrosive in nature to organic life forms, hence the many wards.

Now, one might ask, why did we visit this thread then? If it is just a place of death and decay? And well that’s easy: it isn’t. People lived there, common people, just like in my thread. And they had lived there for so long that they were accustomed to the toxin, they almost required it to live. They walked barefoot on the ground that would have slowly eaten away at my skin. It flowed through their thread, their waters, their very blood. And to me it was poison.

The thread in and of itself was pleasant, at least the parts we visited. I even befriended an older girl, despite not speaking the same language as her. At one point, I got hit by a blue curse. It was foolish on my part, and even more foolish when I realized that despite my highly advanced wards, they did not keep something so simple as a blue curse out. The girl was with me at the time and she panicked. And it hit me, these people could get used to the poison that permeated the fabric of their lands, but some hurts were still shared, despite the differences of our threads.

Then the other day I found myself in the midst of a panic attack. I had work to do, studying, chores, and I had neither time nor energy left to contact my friends, or get back to the ones who’d contacted me. And I was so scared that I was disappointing them, that I was a bad friend, and I wanted to hide and wanted a refuge.

Then it hit me. I was overwhelmed because so many people had contacted me or were ones I felt the need to contact. I am surrounded by people who love me, and people I love in return.

So why am I lonely?

I feel awful just thinking about it, but none of these people are just right. None of them fit so seamlessly into my life that I can feel completely at ease in their presence. I used to have that. I don’t know how to live without it. I love my friends but there will always be a gap between us, I can’t fully understand them and that tears at me. I can’t go to them when I’m tired because talking to people is tiring, and I haven’t found the exceptions to that rule. I know they exist because I used to have it.

Contrary to popular belief, the passage itself is not very spacious, and most of my days I take my walks in the town right outside of our domain. But ever since my best friend returned I haven’t been able to find the peace of mind I so desperately crave.

I hold my breath as I turn every corner. I scan the face of every stranger. I flinch at the slightest sound. And I know that he is not one to wander, that was always my thing. I used to pass by his window so often that at a certain point he started referring to me as ‘she who wanders’ after an ancient legend we heard of as children. I loved that title. Took pride in it even. To be likened to the stories of old, of course I would revel in it.

Now it’s mocking me.

Because I still wander and I fear the sight of him. I haven’t seen him since he returned, but the very knowledge that he’s here again is enough to unsettle me. I miss him, but I’m scared. I’m angry with him, but I still pass by his window hoping to see him. I don’t want our friendship to change, yet I know it has.

My kin still remains in our thread, but all of them have ventured out. Someone should always stay and watch over the passage. I am the youngest, the most troubled when it comes to both magical and physical prowess, it’s rare that a responsibility like this falls to me. And so I treasure it dearly.

I get to be the one to wander the paths and watch the gemeroths wake. I get to ward the edges of our fields for the night. I get to light up the lanterns on our borders with fireflies.

It’s a quiet night, not even her presence is bothering me. I can feel her, hovering at the edges of my mind, waiting. But tonight I think I will manage to keep her away, if only to honor this chance given to me by my kin. The elders will return when the day breaks and they will find the passage safe and sound, just as they left it.

But I digress, the magical properties of different threads should in some cases create a reality that is entirely impossible to reside in, however, because of humans and their societal systems, the very cores of threads can be altered.

My thread is an unusually peaceful one. There is harmony between the magical and societal properties. The only thing that could hint at slight hostility is the below average temperatures of the thread. But compared to other threads full of both magical anomalies as well as social issues and conflicts, my thread is remarkably easygoing.

Or well, he was my best friend, a year ago. Now I don’t know. He’s been traveling to some of the most distant threads discovered. (of the ones that we can travel to at least) And it was foolish and reckless and all kinds of stupid because he doesn’t have the experience one needs to travel across so many threads, and certainly not for such a long time. He left without a plan, without any money, any protective spells or stones and without a place to stay. He returns indebted and possibly afflicted with some blue curses.

And I’m happy because he’s returning.

And I’m scared because I’m not sure I want to see him or what to say when I do.

And I’m mourning, because we’re both different people now. He has been living in a thread so vastly different from mine, and I have enrolled in two different academies. I have kept dealing with her, trying to keep her hidden.

Generally speaking, I prefer spells in their written forms, rather than casting them. Don’t get me wrong, the thrill of adrenaline one gets from holding a crystal with more energy than a lightning bolt is one beyond all the threads, but it is also extremely taxing, not to mention frightening.

Despite my usual potions and brews that help me get through the day, her presence is more prevalent than most days. She often comes during the dark hours, sinking her claws into my mind when it’s most vulnerable. But sometimes she dares to creep out into the light. Today is one of those days. I would have thought that the arrival of the elders would keep her away, but it seems I was sorely mistaken.

They’ve been traveling across the threads for half a moon, and now they will finally be home again. While my brother remained in our thread with me, his commissions requires him to travel beyond the passage, and so, I’ve largely been in charge of our area. It will be nice to get a reprieve, the toxins of the passage have started to go to my head.

As if they are connected to her