Instead of stitching the talisman to my channels, I looped strings of sacred energy around my thread. Unlike stitched techniques, the filter didn’t require a power source, it only had to be between the aspects you didn’t want and a container. In this case, exhaustion aspects were on the no-no list, and my core was the vessel the filter protected. It was a simple idea that was far more difficult in practice.
The thread of fate was thin and delicate. The cords of jinsei I used for soul scrivening were far cruder and thicker. It took great care to tighten the stitches around the talisman and thread without snapping the line that connected me to the Grand Design. Loop after loop tied the filter to the thread, one slow tug after another sealing them together.
The thread trembled with every motion and writhed to free itself from the cage I wove around it. It slipped free of my thoughts, again and again, and every time I had to regroup and find the calm at the heart of my being before I continued. It was painstaking, tedious work that required the utmost care. If I broke the thread, one of the warped monsters would show up in my room. That was not an experience I wanted to repeat.
The world beyond my mind vanished. All that remained were the talisman, the thread, and jinsei. Time ceased to have any meaning as the procedure went on and on.
And then I finished it. Stitches of pure jinsei bound the talisman to the thread with no gap between. Nothing could pass along the thread of fate without hitting the filter.
It was time to test the alteration I’d asked Clem to make.
I plunged deeper into my meditation, passed through my core, and followed the thread of fate to the Grand Design, where an endless sea of warped monstrosities writhed and gnawed at the fabric of the universe. From this vantage they were a single repulsive mass of darkness around the outside edge of the supernatural pattern. And, beyond the tide of shadowy filth, a mass of eyes and morphing tissues loomed, a dark god with an insatiable hunger.
“Stop stalling,” I muttered to myself.
This was the moment of truth.
My body fell into the cycling pattern from years of practice. A smooth breath in pulled jinsei into my core. Fear aspects clogged my aura for a moment, and I prepared to bolt back to the waking world if the monstrosities attacked. An even breath carried away the impurities around me.
Another breath in.
Nothing happened. The warped beasts couldn’t sense me.
I returned to my body with an exhilarated whoop.
“It worked?” Clem asked. “I wasn’t sure—”
“It worked.” I stood from the lotus pose and paced the narrow space between my friends. “Blocking the flow from my core into the thread of fate blinded the warped. They must sense something unique that returns to the Grand Design from each person. I was invisible to them.”
Eric raised his hand. “Uh, warped? This is the first I’m hearing of the warped here.”
It was time to come clean to my friends. I flopped down on my bed and clasped my hands between my knees. When I’d put my thoughts in order, I explained everything. Their faces darkened when I told them about the threat the Flame had warned me about. Concern furrowed their brows when they heard the warped were that threat.
“That’s why they attacked the temples and shrines.” Eric snapped his fingers. “Those places are concentrations of the Empyrean Flame’s plan. That makes perfect sense.”
“But how do we fight them?” Abi asked. “Eric said we can’t stab them with fusion blades, and they eat jinsei.”
“We’ll avoid them,” I said. “Clem, how fast can you make more of those talismans?”
“I’ll make three tonight,” she said. “Will you stitch them to us?”
I hadn’t tried soul scrivening on anyone else but didn’t see any reason I couldn’t. It was the least I could do to protect my friends.
“Yes,” I said.
Just like that, we came together, a seamless whole once more.
My friends had accepted the risks of our mission to save the world, and I’d found a way to protect them from the worst of our enemies. We were still in grave danger, but it seemed far more survivable together than when I was by myself.
Over the next few days, I worked with each of my friends to stitch the protection to their threads of fate. It was dangerous and nerve-wracking to perform such a delicate operation on another person’s thread, but I got it done. We’d cheated our way out of sleep and shielded ourselves from the deadly warped.
We sparred like maniacs in the Advanced Martial Arts course, and Professor Song helped us with pointers and advice on how to work better together in fights. When we weren’t in class, we meditated and pushed ourselves toward advancement using the jinsei Tru delivered from the dragons. We were all so close to our next ranks, but they kept slipping out of our grasps.
Sorcery class became a pleasant surprise when it turned out that the filter that prevented the warped from seeing me had also restrained my serpents. Unfortunately, my skill at sorcery had fallen far behind the other students’. I could summon a candle flame or cup of water, sure, but there wouldn’t be a repeat of my magma trick anytime soon.
After he’d accepted the rubbing from me, the librarian ignored me, even during class. Every History period became an exercise in patience as I hoped Librarian Tanoki would ask me to stay after class. And every day I was disappointed. One week passed, then two, and still I’d heard nothing about the translation. Before we knew it, winter break had sneaked up on us. I’d waited for Tanoki to come through, but that time was past. I needed whatever he had, and I needed it now.
“Oh.” Byron jumped back from my door when I whipped it open. “I was just about
