Little Yue has never truly been privy to the Great Mother's thread world, her thread sight only allowing glimpses of the living, glowing tapestry of the world's essence. And even in those brief glimpses the threads are hidden in semi-darkness, her weaving limited to the barest of touch upon Her fabric. Like that of a child trying to wrap her small palms around an oak tree fully grown, or of the blind groping around in the dark. The Great Mother's woven fabric is said to be a true sight to behold, that if She willed it, the miracle of her Weaving could heal even a heart gone cold and still.

Yue has never put much faith in the Great Mother, for She has never placed much faith in her. But standing amidst the sweaty crowds of the Skarian capital city of Vyrnos, Yue wondered if the Mother has been especially cruel to her this day.

"There you are! I've been looking all over this blasted square for you." A flustered voice called out from behind her. Yue brought her hands up to maneuver towards the voice, turning around face-first into a wall of cloth.

"You didn't have to come, Ye Yang. My father said to meet him here so he'll be around shortly. What's with the sudden crowd anyway?" Bumping unceremoniously into the lean body of her friend as she was pushed around by a pack of children squeezing through the throng.

"The crowd's not our concern. You're not supposed to be here." A slight pause and frown. "Uncle Ning sent me to get you. Come on!" He made a grab for Yue's arm but she ducked away.

"No, he didn't. He would've passed on a message to me, which you would've mentioned before anything else. You're still a terrible liar, Ye Yang," Yue said with a small smile, "even after three years with General Ye Sun in the desert campaigns, and at last filling up the official court uniform." She gave an affectionate pat on said uniform.

He does look rather dashing in it today, thought Yue, even if his eyes looked more and more haunted as the years passed. The red and black robes of the military court attire emphasized Ye Yang's sunken eyes more than usual, but it also brought attention to his lean physique. The black of the elite contingent, and running along his arms are the red stripes of a flame weaver. His first gold badge on his shoulder gleamed under the sun - the mark of a lieutenant.

Ye Yang flashed a quick, shy smile, a remnant of his boyish past. It was replaced with a frown almost immediately. "We need to go, now."

Not understanding his urging but trusting him nonetheless, she gave a quizzical glance but motioned for him to start walking away from the square. She held onto his robes from the back and kept pace with him, his bulk and uniform helping to clear their way. Locals in their colorful clothes would take a look at Ye Yang's uniform and sheathed sword along his back and take a step back out of respect.

All of a sudden, the crowd's attention shifted. Yue turned around, her hand halting Ye Yang. She leveraged on his shoulder and tipped onto her toes. A commotion was breaking out at the opposite end of the square, where the crowd was thickest around a temporary platform that had been erected. A group of soldiers was escorting a handful of prisoners towards the platform, followed closely by a small contingent of mounted black-armored knights with pauldrons of the deepest red. The red of decaying lifeblood.

The Crimson Jackals, Yue breathed. The Skarian Army's infamous blood weavers. At the sight of the mounted weavers, the crowd erupted with fear and excitement.

"Why are they here?"

"Can't be good if even the Jackals are involved."

"Doesn't His Majesty Ka Long have direct control of the Crimson Jackals?"

"This is gon' be big, it will. And not in any good way, I reckon."

Ye Yang took one look at the spectacle and his expression grew fierce. Yue looked at the twelve prisoners being lined up on the platform, a sinking feeling in her gut.

"There's never been so many sentenced to a public execution before..." Yue said uncertainly, looking at Ye Yang's darkening expression and back at the stage.

The prisoners' heads were covered with black canvas sacks, chains around their wrists and a rope that linked them together. Judging from their dirty clothes, there were both men and women of all ages. Furthest right towards the stairs, there was an old wizened man like Old Man Pu the gardener back home. Tan, wrinkled skin wrapped around capable hands, and a back bent from years of tending the orchard. Some were small and slender, teens about her age. Scanning down the line towards the middle, there were tall and strong men in the old guard uniform and courtier robes from Skaria's outpost towns. Men that she might've seen, might've known, living at Lady Shu's Imperial Villa which governed Tyrmal, the largest outpost town that sat on the shared border with the Kharian Deserts.

Deserters or members of the growing rebellion, most likely, Yue thought, appraising the motley group.

Standing closest to the blood weavers were nobles in torn silk robes. A highborn lady with double thick chains around her hands to keep her from weaving. Another man standing tall and proud, probably a self-made noble in his prime from his stance. She recognizes the tells when her father would school her in etiquette.

"The way you carry yourself matters, moonlight. It is as much an outward presentation of character as it is a form of mental discipline. Control over your body is the first step to mastering your own mind and heart. And the strength of a weaver comes from his mind and heart more than brute force. Remember this."

The man on the stage reminded her so much of her father that the memory of his voice echoed in her mind. She has never witnessed death before, and she didn't intend to rectify that this day no matter the uncomfortable tug in her heart. Suddenly, the urge to get out of the city square became unbearable.

"Let's go." She turned to Ye Yang and he smiled in relief. Taking hold of her hand, they made their way towards the entrance of an alley that would lead them back to the palace. The closer they got to the edge of the crowd, Ye Yang's urgency seemed to increase as well. His hold on her tightened, his focus almost single-minded. They were almost through when the trumpet heralding a royal proclamation sounded out.

Almost against her will, Yue's body stopped short of the alley and swiveled around. A middle-aged man, tall and lean in the white and blue robes of the upper Skarian royal court and a blue headband with the royal sigil of House Kin, a winged sea serpent, atop his forehead stepped up to the podium and wiped at his forehead daintily with a kerchief from his billowing sleeves. Even across the square, Yue could feel his cold, calm gaze assess the crowd down his aristocratic nose.

This was a man who would sentence a child to death for his own gain with not a flicker in his conscience, Yue thought with a chill, looking at Ye Yang with mock shivers.

Make that a whole horde of children and their pet puppies, Ye Yang's wry gaze back seemed to say.

Yue feigned outrage. Don't touch the puppies.

They smiled at each other. Ye Yang had that effect on her. Her childhood friend - troublemaker and protector, even if it was just a joke to make her feel better. And she would return the favor in a heartbeat.

The air in the square thickened uncomfortably. The familiar feel of sound weavers - a subset of air weavers - condensing the air particles to amplify sound through an increase in particle vibrations. The royal herald cleared his throat and spoke in a clear, even tone.

"Citizens of Skaria, I greet you most humbly. I, Kin To, Marshal of House Kin, stand before you as royal herald and in the stead of His Majesty Ka Long, twenty sixth Emperor of the Dragon Reign, Conqueror of the Tolmar Isles, Guardian of the Mythic Forest, Restorer of the Lost Faith and Great Dragon of the North, be overseer of the execution that shall henceforth begin."

The crowd had quietened as the announcement rang out around the square. Yue looked around and noted several sound weavers stationed at regular intervals around the perimeter holding the sound bubble around them steady. Marshal Kin's low voice reverberated in her ears, the pleasant tenor contrasted sharply with the nature of the words coming forth.

"These twelve prisoners are brought before the good citizens of Skaria as a demonstration and celebration of yet another victory over the rebel rot festering in the underbelly of our great nation, and of the crucial alliance with the Sohar Empire. It is a victory unlike any other, as the taint was discovered from within our own borders. A taint from within the sacred Inner Court. As such, the betrayal undermines the foundations of our great nation evermore so. It is therefore in His Majesty's terrible displeasure to declare, with advice from the Privy Council, these rebels forfeit of their lives through blood execution."

The crowd gasped, and shocked murmurs were heard over the new hush that fell. A blood execution meant a slow, painful death as the innermost threads of a person's essence was twisted and ultimately broken. The stronger the target, the thicker their threads, a perfect mimicry of their vitality. The thicker the threads, the longer it takes for a blood weaver to snap them, prolonging the pain of the unnatural death.

Marshal Kin turned to give an imperceptible nod to a foot soldier. For a split second, a heavy sorrow seemed to settle over the Marshal's face, for all the world like Raythear bearing the weight of the Mother's Great Loom upon her shoulders. A tired defeat. An expression that came and went between two heartbeats, replaced with his former chilly disposition. Five men peeled off from the impeccable assembly at the foot of the platform and proceeded up the platform to remove the canvas sacks hiding the prisoners' identities.

They started from the side closest to the stairs. When the first sack lifted, Yue's legs almost gave out on her.

Old Man Pu opened bleary eyes unused to the bright midday sun, taking in his surroundings in confusion. Beside him Stable Master Jotun paled even further when he took in the situation. On his right stood Advisor Kol, Yue's beloved tutor, face set in resignation. One by one their faces were revealed, with expressions that ranged from fear and confusion to a weary defeat. Yue's heart beat fast and tight in her chest, cold sweat breaking out all over.

Why were the household of Lady Shu's Imperial Villa up there? Her family. What's happening, did someone do something to incriminate themselves and the entire household? Should I do something? Can I do something, anything? Her mind was in overdrive. The scene in front of her didn't make sense.

The crowd fixed their rapt attention on the last of the prisoners to be revealed. But Yue's gaze kept drifting back to the man standing tall and proud on the left. A self-made man. The most powerful beast weaver in Skaria.

A loving father.

Yue's eyes welled with disbelieving tears, breath coming in short gasps.

He couldn't be...please, Great Weaver, my weaving doesn't even have to ever manifest. Ignore my prayers before now. Please grant me Your most kind attention now. Please, Mother Weaver. If you do care about all the children in your great Fabric, please don't let that be my father.

The soldiers marched on, each reveal breaking a piece of Yue's soul. As they reached the last two prisoners, Yue squeezed her eyes shut and held onto Ye Yang's hand in a death grip. The crowd around her erupted in shocked outrage a second later, jostling her and Ye Yang as the mass took a visible step forward towards the stage. She opened her eyes.

His face was bruised and one eye was swelled shut. A fresh scar ran from his right cheek to the top of his neck. A rebellious fire blazed through his one good eye, glaring at the soldiers marching off the stage and at the blood weavers gathering in a line between them and the crowd. Beside him, Concubine Shu opened her pretty almond eyes, mostly unharmed but for her tattered silk robes. Her father and Lady Shu turned to look at each other, and it was the fear in his eyes in that moment that broke Yue. The tears that welled flowed freely, and her legs would have given out if not for Ye Yang's hand, a lifeline in a turbulent sea storm.

Aside from the fact that Lady Shu's Imperial Villa was a strategic outpost located beside the Kharian Deserts, her father and Lady Shu have always been close. That is why he chose to reside in her Villa during the hibernation months of the Royal Palace's mythic beasts, and Yue got to travel with him. But something more than friendship passed between them that day on the execution platform. Something only she would be able to notice with how stoic her father was.

Marshal Kin spoke up then. "In the name of the Almighty Dragon Ka Long and Queen Consort Hy Li, with the power bestowed by the Great Mother Weaver, Skaria shall begin its righteous extermination of the rebellion that has troubled our land and borders for decades in earnest."

In the years to come, young Yue shall come to understand the complex emotions lacing the Marshal's voice as he gave the signal to the hooded blood weavers. But in that moment, as blood rushed through her ears, all she could hear was a great silence and her heart. Thumping.

Her father's eyes swept the crowd and found her. Both of them seeming to borrow enhanced sight from the eagles they sometimes saw as they traveled to and from the capital to Lady Shu's Villa.

"Look, Father! It's that rare Tolmar Eagle Master Jotun was talking about during Beast class last month!"

Mounted on Yirlhil, a winged, black pegasus with an attitude, a gift from the Avi Hyi High Lord, Ning Xiao glanced at where his excited daughter was pointing at in the sky. Her enthusiasm brought a smile to his face. Eyes crinkling at the edges, he sent a thought to touch the eagle's innermost heart threads lightly. In a blink, the eagle folded its wings slightly and glided towards them. It landed gracefully on his outstretched arm, lightly armored in case of any opportunistic bandits they might meet along the way. Yue clapped her hands excitedly, eyes shining with pride at her father, reaching out to stroke the eagle. He sent another thought to calm her startled mare before it could buck her off.

"It's so soft! Not as soft as the Cavern Owls we saw last year, but still soft. But it was so far away! I could hardly see its threads! Can we keep it? I'd like to see Kerk and Kel's faces when we bring her back to the Villa again in Deisam."

"Concentrate on her threads, moonlight. Tell me what you see."

She scrunched her face in concentration. He waited patiently as her eyes flashed brighter after awhile then dimmed immediately, her thread sight and weaving still weak. Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a cute O.

He nodded. "She's pregnant. Tolmar eagles are usually lone migratory birds, but they mate for life. Let's not keep her from her mate, moonlight. They're never far from each other, especially when the female's at her most vulnerable." Just then, a frantic, high-pitched call came from the forest in the distance. Yue gave a sad, parting pat on the eagle's graceful spine, and let her father send her off. He ruffled little Yue on her head, faint disappointment morphing into an adorable giggle.

"That's my girl."

In that moment, Yue felt like that little girl again. All she wanted was for her father to pat her on her head and know that her small corner of the world was safe. That her family was safe.

The line of blood weavers raised their hands palms up, and with some unseen signal crushed their fists. Her heart stuttered. The first of the prisoners, the frailest in health, fell over in spasms. Eyes wild and mouths open in silent screams, the crowd's roar of outrage drowning out all other sounds. Old Man Pu had blood foaming at his mouth, a moment later his body fell still. Eccentric Lord Rei, head advisor in the Villa and always with his head buried in some old scroll, crashed to his knees and broke his head on the platform a second later. Beloved tutor Lord Kol, in his early fifties who always said he knew more varieties of tea than Mistress Yuken, head of the palace's expansive kitchens, shivered violently and bent over backwards, his spine popping in an unnatural angle. All three laid still on the platform, blood seeping silently through the cracks in the timber planks.Three bright and colorful souls dimmed forever, threads unwound from the great Tapestry.

One by one they fell. After a bare minute, only Lady Shu, Captain Jun of the Villa's distinguished garrison, Stable Master Jotun and her father were left standing. Each weaver's eyes glowed bright, locked in an internal battle of wills with their executioner, sweat beading around their temples.

Master Jotun, with his temperamental nature who told the best stories about mythical beasts, scrunched his face in agony after a short struggle. Lady Shu had her eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed, opened her eyes at the last second to look at the sky one last time. Her father stared his executioner down, head high even as exhaustion made him look more aged. As the minutes wore on, the crowd quietened and looked on in morbid fascination. Blood execution never took this long.

All of a sudden, her father looked at her across the square again. His gaze was clear. The glow from his weaving fading slowly. It glowed again momentarily and she felt a gentle stroke along her threads at the top of her crown, and in her heart threads. Her eyes filled with tears and she tried to switch to thread sight to return the farewell gesture. Tried and tried desperately. Finally, as the world's threads glowed in front of her, she saw her father's heart threads waver.

And break.