Kael was there. Collapsed.

  Hands buried in his hair.

  Alone in the world.

  He didn’t even bother keeping his thoughts to himself.

  The words came out loud, broken, torn between confusion, horror, and denial.

  “I’m in my own past…”

  He looked around him.

  “The Weavers’ workshop… I’m in the Weavers’ workshop.”

  He shot to his feet and began pacing.

  Around him, the Weavers continued their work without paying him the slightest attention.

  “It’s because of the book… ‘Cause.’

  I read it. Well… I opened it. And I ended up here.

  But how…? How is that possible?”

  He watched the Weavers, unbothered, carrying out their precise, measured movements.

  He shook his head.

  “I knew that book was special… but enough to make me travel through time?

  I never would’ve believed it.”

  The thoughts kept looping.

  “What are those books, anyway?

  ‘The Golden Ratio,’ ‘The Perfect Shadow Theorem,’ ‘Cogito Ergo Sum,’ and ‘The Velasquez Limit’… all gone.”

  He frowned.

  “Well… ‘The Velasquez Limit,’ I read that one. And I fell asleep in the garden. So I didn’t leave it in my room.

  But… it should still have been there, right?

  Even after the loop reset, it was still there.

  As if it were following me…”

  He collapsed again, on his knees, fists pressed against his forehead.

  “Fuck… damn it…”

  He stayed there, crushed beneath the weight of what he had just understood.

  “What the hell have I done…

  Couldn’t I just have chosen Remanence or Dissonance like everyone else?”

  He lifted his eyes to the ceiling, a nervous laugh caught in his throat.

  “No… I had to get interested in some cursed fucking books.

  End result? Time travel, melting brain, flower-books, and the whole damn mess.”

  He fell silent. Long. Bitter.

  “If I manage to go back…

  And I tell someone about this…

  They’ll think I’ve gone insane.”

  Kael continued his monologue, eyes still fixed on the Weavers.

  “They don’t see me… Everything I say, everything I do goes completely unnoticed.

  I’m… perfectly invisible.”

  He sighed, exhausted by it all.

  Then, with a sudden movement, he stood up.

  “Alright… now that I’m here…”

  His gaze turned toward Connie’s office upstairs.

  “Might as well take advantage of it and find out what was so ‘important’…”

  He climbed the stairs.

  The door was closed.

  He placed his hand on the handle.

  It turned.

  “Apparently… I can interact with the physical world.”

  He stepped inside.

  Orelia and Connie were there, mid-conversation.

  They turned abruptly at the sight of the door opening on its own.

  Kael froze.

  “Shit…”

  Orelia stood and slowly approached the door.

  Panicked, Kael stepped back, hands raised like a child caught doing something wrong.

  She calmly closed the door.

  Connie exhaled.

  “Drafts… I swear, they’re a real plague.”

  Orelia smiled and sat back down across from Connie.

  The room was far from elegant.

  Sketches covered the walls.

  Shelves overflowed with books about sewing, silk, pigments, ancient weaving methods.

  Kael walked around the office, observing without touching.

  The two women chatted about this and that.

  The workshop.

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  Incoming money.

  Stock to renew.

  Upcoming orders.

  Still nothing about the “important” subject.

  Kael was burning with impatience.

  He glanced at the papers piled on the desk: receipts, ledgers, opened letters. Nothing exciting.

  His mother sat with her legs crossed, straight-backed, elegant, at ease.

  Connie leaned forward, elbows on the desk, waving papers around in every direction.

  Kael sat on an old dresser in the corner of the room.

  It creaked.

  The two women turned their heads toward it, puzzled.

  Then shrugged.

  Kael raised his arms and said aloud, ironically,

  “Oh, don’t mind me. Please, go on.”

  As if they could hear him.

  Finally, Connie straightened up, set the papers down, and adopted a more serious tone.

  She was about to address the subject.

  The one Kael had been waiting for.

  Connie finally declared,

  “Alright, let’s get to the matter at hand.”

  A wide smile lit up her face.

  “I received an order… an order that could very well shift the future of the workshop into another dimension.”

  Kael leaned in, hanging on her words.

  Orelia seemed intrigued as well.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  Connie was glowing.

  “We received an order from the High Lands!”

  Orelia raised an eyebrow, surprised.

  “The High Lands? What could they possibly want from us?”

  Connie jumped to her feet and began pacing the room, bubbling with excitement.

  “It turns out a man from the High Lands came down to the Terminal district… the one with the Dancers. And he loved their outfits!”

  Orelia frowned.

  “And what were they doing in that district?”

  “We don’t care about the reasons!” Connie replied without thinking. “What matters is that he fell in love with a dress.

  One you made.”

  Orelia leaned back in her chair, resting her elbow on the armrest and her hand beneath her chin. She already looked tired of the conversation.

  “And?”

  Connie blinked, thrown off.

  “And… he wants to meet you. So you can create a custom dress for his wife.”

  Kael shot to his feet.

  He stood frozen.

  “No… that’s not true…”

  Orelia answered in a sharp, categorical tone.

  “That’s out of the question.”

  Connie stepped closer, frowning.

  “What do you mean, no? Do you realize the opportunities this represents? This contract could open the doors of trade with the High Lands! Do you realize that?”

  Orelia was clearly irritated now.

  “They throw our silks into the Soléen as if they were emptying a trash bin… And now that they realize we know how to make something beautiful out of them, they want to claim them back?

  Absolutely not, Connie.

  That would betray all our principles.”

  Kael, silent, did not move. He watched his mother, tense, straight, unyielding.

  Connie insisted, her voice firmer.

  “This isn’t a request, Orelia. Can you imagine? I could pay you better. Pay all the Weavers better.

  Think about Kael. You could raise him in better conditions.”

  Orelia slowly turned her head toward her. Her gaze had hardened.

  “Don’t drag him into this.”

  Connie straightened, more determined than ever.

  “They’re insisting on meeting you. They want to take you there, to the High Lands, so you can complete the order on site.”

  Orelia stood slowly.

  “And I leave Kael here?

  Who’s going to take care of him, huh?”

  Connie placed a hand over her heart.

  “Me. You know I consider him my own son.

  Think about it. Not for me. For them. For the girls in the workshop. For their future.”

  A long silence settled.

  Orelia lowered her eyes.

  Then she murmured,

  “…I’ll think about it.”

  Orelia left the office without another word.

  The door slammed behind her.

  Kael immediately turned his eyes toward Connie.

  She was grumbling to herself, gathering her papers half-heartedly.

  “She’d better accept… I have too much to gain.”

  Kael clenched his teeth.

  His eyes narrowed.

  “She knows something.

  Fuck, yes. She knows.”

  He straightened abruptly.

  “I have to get back to the Crown. And fast.

  I need to get the truth out of her. That man… who the hell is that fucking man?

  He came. Twice.

  At least twice.”

  He watched Connie, who was pacing again, visibly frustrated.

  She was hiding something. It was obvious.

  “What is she hiding?…”

  No answer. Only silence.

  Kael didn’t waste another second.

  He turned on his heel and left the office.

  Kael saw his mother enter her personal workshop.

  Without hesitation, he followed her and slipped inside just before the door closed behind him.

  The place was nothing like the workshop he knew today.

  Everything was clean.

  Ordered.

  Everything in its place.

  The sketches were no longer hastily pinned to the wall, but carefully stored on a shelf.

  The fabrics folded. The tools aligned.

  A stark contrast.

  At the back of the room, little Kael was playing.

  He was sitting on the floor, back turned.

  Kael — the older one — couldn’t see what he was holding.

  He slipped quietly around to take a look, curious.

  And thought, as he watched him:

  “It’s really strange to watch yourself…”

  I’ve felt something like this before, during training with Velara…but this is different.

  This isn’t a copy. This isn’t a duplicate.

  It’s me. As I was, years ago.

  Such a strange feeling…

  Orelia gently approached the child and sat down beside him.

  “What are you doing, my little rascal?”

  Little Kael lifted his arms, proudly holding up what he had above his head.

  A small piece of white fabric.

  Brilliant.

  With a few shining needles stuck into it.

  Kael — the older one — allowed himself a nostalgic smile.

  The child exclaimed, amazed,

  “What is that? It’s so beautiful, it sparkles!”

  Orelia tenderly stroked his head.

  “That, Kael… is a Needle-Case Band.”

  She gently took it from his hands.

  “It’s used by the Weavers. They stick needles into it so it serves as a holder. Then it’s tied to the forehead, like this, so the Weavers always have their tools within reach.”

  Little Kael looked at the object like a magical jewel.

  And the adult, in silence, relived a moment he had believed forgotten.

  Orelia gently placed the Needle-Case Band on her son’s forehead.

  She adjusted the small strap behind his head, then stepped back, her eyes shining with a radiant smile.

  “And you know… it doesn’t really sparkle.

  It’s the color that creates that effect.

  You’d never seen it before, but it’s white.

  A color that doesn’t normally exist in the Broken Crown.”

  Little Kael frowned.

  “But… if it doesn’t exist, why do you have it?”

  Then suddenly, his face lit up.

  “Oh! I know! It’s because you’re a magician!”

  Orelia giggled, surprised by his remark.

  Then she burst into laughter, hand over her mouth, unable to contain it.

  Kael, the adult, watched them.

  His breath caught.

  His vision blurred.

  Tears began to fall, silently, without him trying to stop them.

  “I… I didn’t remember this…”

  His voice broke into a sob.

  And then everything accelerated.

  The image warped.

  The colors faded.

  Everything disappeared.