Vel'Kareth embraced them in the thunderous breath of flame and homeliness.
Roofs dusted with ash pulsed with ember light. The streets, once distant and cold from the Span's silence, buzzed with muted life: merchants unpacking wares from the night stalls, spirit lamps humming low, the molten rivers glowing a regular rhythm.
Anna's home was just as they had left it. Quiet. Warm. Alive like lived-in places tend to be.
Arion lingered in the entryway, unable to cross the threshold. He peered around like a person trying to recall the sensation of a place like this. Safe. Human.
"Come in," Anna said gently.
He did.
They never had a formal meeting. They didn't need to.
Kael had lilted against the far wall, sharpening a dagger just to occupy her hands. Michael settled down near the hearth, his arms resting loosely above his knees and eyes on the fire spirit as it curled up again beside its basin.
He cross-legged on a small cushion Anna had placed for him, a cup of warm stoneflower tea cradled between his palms. He'd tidied up on the way back, but the shadows hadn't departed from his eyes yet.
Yet his voice was cleaner than before.
"I believe … I was a summoner," he said. "Trained in the Crescent Sigil Order."
Kael let out a soft breath. "That's a name I haven't heard in ages. They don't leave the mountain temples until something's gone wrong."
Arion nodded slowly. "There was a rift. I'm referring to Thread Forming where should be none They sent us to study it."
Michael frowned. "And?"
Arion stared into his tea, voice low.
"I felt something watching. Not seeing—watching. It wasn't trying to scare us. Just … waiting to be noticed. I got too close. The next thing I knew, I wasn't me anymore."
He didn't shiver. He didn't cry. He just looked tired.
Anna set down a warm roll next to his cup.
Arion blinked. "Thank you."
"Take first, eat," Anna said kindly. "Your stomach is not empty, names come easier.
A few chuckled laughs broke the tension — light laughs. Even Kael smirked.
Arion fell silent for a moment before continuing. "My Soul Thread was always connected to reflection. My element is light. Not flame, not brute force just … clarity. I could mirror. Adapt."
Michael leaned forward, intrigued. "So you're an Echo Binder?"
"Close," Arion said. "I was training in the Glassbranch Path, technically, more in combat not so much. My soul was a swirling fox-form called Lune, spun of curved light. It might mirror spells, even emotions at times."
Michael nodded, interested. "That sounds—"
He caught himself.
Arion was observing him with mild amusement.
"It's alright," Arion said. "You can say it. It sounds insane when you say it out loud."
Kael raised her cup. "Ridiculous keeps us alive."
Michael smiled slightly and then turned to Anna. She didn't smile but her expression was light, relaxed, settled, in the way people rarely were.
And for the first time, the room was feeling full. Not just with people. With something else.
Direction.
That night, as conversation quieted and warmth closed in, Arion turned to Anna.
"I don't know what I said when you found me. But if I did or said anything weird…"
Anna shook her head. "You said something honest. That's enough."
He gazed at her for a long time, then nodded.
And for the first time since they met him, he looked whole.
...….
The city had transformed since they'd left.
Not visibly Vel'Kareth still throbbed with its slow-burn beat: smoke-washed towers, headstone roads, flames blooming like flowers from translucent carved runes across the walls.
But now something in the air was watching.
They first noticed it when they cruised past the Ember walk district. An aged summoner brushing ash from his front step stood up stiff-backed as they went by. He didn't stop them. But he nodded once to Anna, and then, after a beat, to Michael.
Somehow that second nod seemed different to Michael, and he wasn't exactly sure why. Like it had meaning.
....
Back at Anna's house, a message was waiting.
An Ember fold note sealed and bound by a copper clasp. Anna opened it and Kael raised an eyebrow.
"Well?" she asked.
Anna read it once, and then a second time.
"An invitation," she said. "From GuildMaster Orien."
Arion set down a gently steaming bowl of flame fruit stew. "You know him?"
Anna's tone didn't change. "He owes me."
Kael leaned forward. "A favor that makes Orien write in copper?"
Anna looked up, just briefly. Her eyes twinkled cut, amused.
"An old one."
Michael watched her. Sensed the slight change in her posture not defensive, but purposeful. How a person sits when a piece of their past has opted to speak.
"You going?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. "And you're coming with me."
Sometime later, as Kael and Arion talking loudly on the topic of Thread types, Michael stepped out into the courtyard. Anna joined him a moment later, arms wrapped loosely as she leaned beside him.
"You're really quiet today," she said.
He nodded. "Lot to think about."
"I imagine," she said. "You've encountered more versions of yourself than most people see in a lifetime.
Michael exhaled. "Yeah. That's kind of the problem."
Anna didn't offer comfort. Not yet.
"You know," she said after a pause, "some people look at reincarnation and they say it's a gift. Another chance. Another clean start. But it's not."
Michael looked at her.
"It's a mirror that never stops cracking," she said, gently. "Every life adds a line. Each memory makes it harder to see who you really are underneath."
"And what if there's nothing beneath?" he asked.
There was no hesitation in her response.
"Then you build something. And this time, you don't create it by yourself."
From inside, Kael's voice beckoned, "You two coming or do I have to eat your share?"
Michael looked to the door.
Anna smiled. "Let's not tempt her. She bites."
They retreated back in together.
But Michael continued to think about what she said.
And for the first time since his Thread began unspooling, he didn't feel he had to work everything out all at once.