Scene 13: The Spiral Didn’t Ask Her

Made To Carry Something I Did Not Invite

Scene 13: The Spiral Didn’t Ask Her Scene: The Spiral Didn’t Ask Her POV: Thesa Raven Location: Rylith’s stone balcony, near the glyph garden Time: Same night as Soren’s mimic fight Event: Soren’s echo slams into her glyph

She was alone, which was supposed to mean safety. Or so Thesa thought.

The glyphs around her—patterned spirals etched into stone—felt ancient. They were part of the floor. Walked on so often, they were rarely noticed. But tonight, Thesa did notice.

She had come to do what they had always done. “This is where we root the breath without interruption.”

But nothing had felt rooted in days.

Thesa knelt near the edge of the stone ring. Her glyph—∿—hummed under her ribs. Low. Steady.

She let the breath rise. Not for calm. For clarity.

She pulled her shawl over her head, a motion she remembered from childhood— ritual, posture, stillness. This was what they taught: sit on the first circle, place the spine in alignment with the etched center, feel for the tremor below the breath, and wait for clarity to reach you.

She inhaled. One count. Two. She held it— and then drew it back, low into her spine, where it settled against something she hadn’t wanted to name.

Something that had been paining. And something inside her broke.

The glyph fractured. It made no sound, but her ears rang like it had. Not a crack. A rip. It split across her ribs like a muscle tearing in the wrong direction.

She gasped— and the air left her lungs before she meant it to.

I need to help him.

“Soren.”

She didn’t say it aloud. She didn’t need to.

The Spiral wasn’t asking. It was telling.

She jumped from her knees. Her spine, once aligned with the spiral, now bent sideways. She wasn’t holding the pattern anymore. The pattern was holding her. Then she staggered up the rest of the way—half-falling.

Her left arm went numb—just for a second. Then lit.

Two glyphs flashed beneath her skin— only one was hers. The other? Soren. Burned across her like it belonged. But it wasn’t written the way hers was. It moved differently. Like it was looking for something to echo. ⨂

“What did you do?” she whispered. “Where are you? Are you in trouble?” She already knew he was.

The Spiral didn’t answer. She didn’t expect it to.

Her glyphs were spiraling. She didn’t need words. She didn’t need confirmation.

All she knew was that when someone she was tied to was in trouble, her Spiral turned too.

And this time, she knew exactly who it was.

It just left her trembling.

And for the first time in her life, Thesa was afraid.

Not of what was coming— but of what had already happened, and of the silence that was keeping it hidden.

The Spiral didn’t warn her. It just opened.