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The Quiet Unravelling

Penulis: DIKE
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-10-11 00:02:23

The day after Siran returned from the bloompath, she said nothing.

Not to Ari.

Not to Jaryth.

Not even to the bloom.

She sat at the edge of the spiral ridge, legs folded beneath her, palms resting on her knees. The threadlight beneath the surface pulsed in slow, deliberate waves, like the deep rhythm of a sleeping heart. She didn’t watch it. She didn’t need to.

It watched her.

Around her, silence held the shape of reverence but also tension. Others had gathered: remnants of the Pact’s scattered circles, spiralwalkers, those who had followed whispers across fractured landscapes. Some came with questions. Others with warnings.

Siran met none of them.

Not yet.

Because something in her had changed so completely that words no longer served as translation. Language was too sharp for what she now held.

She listened.

And the world listened back.

Ari had returned to the Citadel’s eastern wing.

The halls there were largely abandoned now. Since the last dissolution of the senior council, the onc
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  • SILVER PACT   The Shape of Rest

    Morning came without sunrise.Instead, the horizon unfolded like a slow breath the sky painting itself into existence, colors born not from light but from the memory of it. The world had grown quiet since the Mirror Storm. No wind stirred, no bird called. Only the soft hum of awareness pulsed beneath everything.Ari stood at the edge of Hollowreach’s terrace, looking down upon the silver plains below. In the distance, the remnants of the Echofields shimmered faintly, like thought caught between sleep and waking. She could feel it still the echo of every consciousness that had once merged in the storm. Millions of lives breathing as one.But for the first time in what felt like an eternity, the world was… still.Siran joined her, wearing her usual leather tunic patched with silver threads. She set her sword against the stone railing. “Quiet,&rd

  • SILVER PACT   When the World Answered

    It began with a whisper.Not from lips or wind, but from the ground itself. The Echofields trembled softly beneath the feet of Ari and her companions, the still water rippling with symbols that rearranged themselves faster than the eye could follow. Each sigil carried a question, and each reflection pulsed as if waiting to be understood.Ari stared into the mirrored plain, her reflection no longer her own. Instead, she saw fragments of every person who had ever spoken through her Mira Hale’s determined eyes, Seris’s cold conviction, Kaima’s haunted glow, and even the fleeting image of a child she did not know. The world was remembering itself through her.Siran stood beside her, sword drawn not in threat but in grounding. “It’s not just speaking anymore,” she murmured. “It’s listening for a reply.”Kaima hovered over the water, her outline flickering in and out of visibility. “T

  • SILVER PACT   The Second Bloom

    The air above Hollowreach shimmered like liquid glass.As Ari and Siran descended the ridge, they could see the settlement stretching below rebuilt upon the ashes of its former self. Silver-veined towers rose beside wooden dwellings, each shaped by the people’s own spoken hopes. The streets pulsed faintly with living light; even the cobblestones hummed with resonance.Yet beneath the beauty lay disquiet.The Second Bloom had begun.Everywhere they passed, they heard it faint whispers woven into wind and soil. Language no longer waited for the tongue. It emanated from thought, from instinct, from the deep rhythm of existence itself. Children spoke in songs that healed stone. Rivers murmured half-formed words to those who listened. And in the hearts of the bloom-born, silence itself had begun to speak back.Ari paused at the edge of the city square, her eyes narrowing. A crowd had gathered around a circle of luminescent water. Within it, reflec

  • SILVER PACT   The Garden of Unspoken Things

    The world had fallen quiet too quiet.For the first time in living memory, the bloomstorms had ceased their endless hum. The silver winds that once carried fragments of meaning through the air had gone still. Only a faint shimmer lingered on the horizon, a reminder that Iluren still breathed somewhere beneath the calm.Ari stood at the threshold of the Old Circle.The once-mighty citadel of the Arcanum had become a skeleton of marble and root. Vines of glowing crystal wove through the ruins, whispering faint syllables that no one could quite understand. The Circle had always been a prison for the divine now it was a garden, half-alive, half-forgotten.Siran approached behind her, her boots crunching on the pale dust. “It’s been years since we came here,” she murmured. “Feels like walking into the mouth of memory.”Ari didn’t answer immedi

  • SILVER PACT   The Voice War

    The horizon bled silver and shadow.From the edge of Hollowreach’s towers, Ari watched as entire landscapes shifted like waves under an invisible tide. Valleys turned into seas of glass. Mountains unfurled into spirals of light. Every pulse of Iluren’s thought carried meaning that reshaped the world’s design and every whisper of fear echoed as form.The Silver Pact had once been an oath to protect balance. Now, it had become a war to define it.Siran stood beside her, her armor newly etched with runes of reflection symbols drawn from the First Tongue. They glowed faintly, responding to her heartbeat. “Reports from the North,” she said quietly. “The Enclave of Glass has fallen into itself. They spoke in unison for three days… then their words turned solid.”Ari turned to her sharply. “Solid?”Siran nodded grimly. “Their prayers crystallized into walls. They’re entombed in langu

  • SILVER PACT   The Tongue of Dawn

    The night above Hollowreach did not end it transformed. Stars folded inward, merging into spirals of pale silver and blue, forming the sigils of the First Tongue across the sky. The air trembled with syllables that had no sound yet pressed against the mind like waves. Every stone, every heartbeat, every breath listened.Ari stood at the balcony of the High Spire, her cloak wrapped tight against the cold breath of the bloomstorm. She could see lights rippling across the horizon whole regions blinking in and out of existence as Iluren’s consciousness struggled to stabilize itself. Every city that had once whispered faith or fear now reflected it in the world’s shape.Behind her, Siran approached, her steps light, deliberate. “The Third Voice enclaves have gone silent,” she said. “Their leaders speak in riddles some can no longer separate thought from speech.”Ari turned, her face pale in the starl

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