Hidden Thread

Elena hadn’t meant to leave the trail, but her feet had other plans, getting her lost. After several minutes of searching, she caught a glimmer of light through the dense foliage, nothing more but enough to spark hope. Moments later, that simple flicker flared to life as she glimpsed more through the trees. She ducked branches as she weaved about the roots and vines. Each silent footfall landed on moss as she navigated the maze by the light seeping through the foliage. When she burst forth from the tree line, she stumbled, dropping to her hands and knees as if the very air had stolen her strength. The cool grass cushioned her fall. When she dared to lift her gaze, the world around her bloomed in silent wonder. Mist glided like breath across the ground, while a wide silver river cut through the clearing, its surface still as glass. Above the forest’s canopy, the clouds continued their slow drift across the lavender sky, like ink in water. Two stone arches, glowing with a faint violet light, stood beside each other on the shore. After climbing to her feet, she stumbled toward them, her breath catching. Each framed the same river cutting through a forest. Complete with a crooked branch jutting out to hang over the water and a black crow, with slick and motionless feathers, perched upon it. As her gaze bounced between the views, the birds did the same thing. Resting motionless on their perches as they stared at her. Elena ignored them and resumed studying the images. The trees were the same. The rocks were the same. Everything seemed identical between the two images. A gust stirred the mist, pulling it about her. As Elena whirled about, a low and melodic voice shattered the silence. “Ah, a threadwalker, bold and bright. Be ye drawn by fate or chance or fright?” “What!? Who’s there!?” A figure tumbled from the canopy, landing in a crouch. The rail-thin figure, no taller than a teenager, rose with a grin too wide for his face. A shadow of mirth curled behind his eyes as he bowed. When he rose, he stepped toward Elena, his hands drifting behind his back. She reflexively stepped away from the newcomer, covering her mouth. “Who — What are you?” The creature discarded an invisible hat with an exaggerated flourish. “Gaius, fool, guide, and test. I wear many names, none I detest. I keep the paths where threads unwind. It’s up to me to judge the walkers who dare to find.” Elena’s head shook as she inched away. “What do you mean, judge?” The creature danced a half-circle around Elena as his arms whipped about. “One path leads to the world that’s yours. The other? A shadow locked behind doors. Choose wrong, and you’ll be forced to stay. In someone else’s skin, day after day.” Elena faced the portals. “They’re identical. How am I supposed to make a choice between them?” Gaius clapped his hands like a giddy child. “Some weep, some choke. But some possess sight that burns through the smoke. Some find the thread that truths conceal. The path that bends, the world that’s real.” She stepped to the portal on her right and resumed studying it. It was the same scene. Everything was unchanged...