Episode 7

Ari grinned as she walked back to her quarters. Lunch with Sabine had been lovely. Lira had made a wonderful spread of salad and sandwiches. She'd baked the bread that morning - Ari could smell more fresh bread baking when they'd entered the dining hall.

Sabine had shared a bit about her life until then, and what had made her decide to enter the Abbey of the Four Seasons and undertake the monastic life. It wasn't such an unusual choice for a Springborn. There were more of them than any of the other seasons at the monastery, but it hadn't been her first choice. She'd really been interested in alchemy, and the Abbey was not known for that at all. It was a devotional abbey, not a scholarly one, so research was informal - though many of the Siblings of the Abbey had their own little projects that they dabbled with.

"Why didn't you enter one of the Universities then?" Ari had asked her.

"Money," Sabine said.

Ari nodded. She understood. Universities were expensive, and most couldn't afford them. Ari had been to University - her mother's fame and her own test scores had earned her a spot and covered her tuition, but she'd been expelled and had decided to come to the Abbey for a fresh start.

"Expelled!" Sabine had declared with a bit of shock when Ari had casually mentioned that.

Ari blushed. "Yeah, long story. I have a bit of a temper and I accidentally froze something that shouldn't be frozen."

"A person?" Sabine whispered, her tone a mixture of horror and fascination.

"Part of a person," Ari shrugged. "No permanent damage, but it wasn't really my first offense and they were happy to be rid of me."

"Well," Sabine said, "I bet he deserved it."

Ari recalled the conversation over and over until she entered her room to find a complete stranger standing there.

"Who are you?" she said.

"I'm Sylvie. Your new roommate."

Ari blinked. She had not been told a roommate was coming. It was barely a week into Spring. Winter novices wouldn't start for months, and only Winter novices lived in this hall. Not to mention there were plenty of rooms still unoccupied given the small number of Winter novices who'd pledged the last few years - as tension rose at the border, more and more Winterborne had joined the Universities and Defense Department tracks of study.

"I know it's a weird time for me to start," Sylvie continued. "I was supposed to start with the last Winter cohort, but I had to delay."

"The Abbess Prime allowed that?" Ari said, distrustful.

Sylvie nodded. "It was her idea for me to pause my entry to deal with... things."

Ari didn't know what to say, so she turned and ran towards the Abbess Prime's office. This had to be a mistake. She'd been promised solitary quarters - she still didn't have proper control of her emotions and she didn't want to hurt anyone.

Ari walked across the courtyard of the War Abbey towards the alchemy lab.

"Hello, Ari," a familiar voice said.

She stopped and turned.

"Sylvie," Ari said. "What are you doing here?"

"I have a message," Sylvie said.

Ari hadn't seen Sylvie in years. Not since she'd left the Abbey of Four Seasons. Not since...

She shook her head. She didn't dare think about that. Every time she tried, she started to Slip, and reliving that was torture.

"What message?" Ari said, wondering what could be so important that the Assistant to the Defense Secretary would deliver her a message personally.

"It's a warning, Ari. I shouldn't be here, I shouldn't tell you this, but I owe you. They know you're a Threadjumper. There's rumors in the Department they're making plans to move against you."

"What are you talking about?" Ari said. "I'm doing what I was assigned to do. Train my latent aleatoric skills for the war effort. I Threadwalk, observing my own life Thread and those connected to it to make sure there's no breaks or disturbances, and watching the possible Threads to find the best next actions."

"They think you're The World Weaver, Ari," Sylvie said. "And they'll do anything to stop you."

Ari tilted her head just before she heard the knock on the door.

Just in time.

She stood up from her loom, stretched, and walked across the room to an old oak door - a piece of a monastery that had been bombed during one of the many invasions and occupations the land had endured.

Opening the door, she smiled.

Standing there was an old woman. Scars criss-crossed her face from years of battle. Burns that had healed wrong. Cuts that had been stitched badly.

"Sylvie," Ari said. "I've been expecting you."