The man’s fingers moved across the threads of fate.

He plucked and weaved desperately. Each adjustment sent ripples through the tapestry of fate. Each ripple altered destinies and reshaped the future.

Every alteration cost something… quite dear to the man.

His own life force.

He sighed and paused, exhausted. The golden tapestry vanished. His hand began tapping the table. His feet followed. He grew restless. Emotions bubbled. They boiled. And finally…

“Isn’t this enough?!” he cried out, looking up. “What more do you want?”

Only quiet met his voice. He glowered.

Moments passed, and a shimmer appeared above, revealing a familiar face.

Older, scarred, but unmistakably Theodore Lockheart. He looked down on the man with a gaze as cold and unyielding as steel.

“You must not stop,” he said. “That was our deal, was it not? Are you trying to go back on your words? We agreed that you will do whatever it takes to prevent what’s coming.”

The shimmer faded.

The man, the [Merchant King] Bertram, growled and slammed his fist on the table, breaking it in the process. “Fucking bastard.”

He’d already done a lot. He’d stopped the present Theodore from talking to his sister about some very specific things that would only hasten the tragedy. He’d made the Night Whispers aggressive. He’d thrown hurdles. He’d done everything allowed! Yet it still wasn’t enough? Why! Did this future dickhead wanted him to go overboard? Was he not aware that if Bertram were to go overboard, he’d end up summoning a fucking Warden on himself!?

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“Calm down…” he told himself and leaned back into his chair, breathing in and out.

***

Unaware of everything, though not for long, Theodore’s eyes fluttered open, greeting the soft light of dawn. He stretched, savoring the quiet moment before the day’s demands set in.

He stepped out into the balcony, inhaling the crisp air.

A deep intake. An exhale. And a contented smile. Then a shiver, as winter’s chill nipped at his skin.

His mind raced.

The people would need warmth—better insulated homes, more efficient heating systems. The promised bridges couldn’t wait; they’d need to withstand the harsh weather. He’d yet to even introduce crop rotation for year-round food. Not to mention implementing better sewage systems.

Oh, and maybe a new product or two. With winter coming, he did have some stuff on his mind—

A sharp yip interrupted his thoughts. Below, in the garden, Wynd frolicked with Millie, the beast tamer. The wolf pup’s tail wagged furiously as he chased a toy.

Theodore smiled.

His gaze drifted back to the horizon, thoughts turning to the future. Almost reflexively, he called up his system quest screen:

Master the Art of Severance

Sunder has bestowed upon you a Quest of importance. Learn the art of severance, and realize [Sever’s] and your Connection with Sunder’s full potential.

The words still held mystery.

However, Theodore was determined.

For now, though, there was more important work to be done.

Like making chocolate for Aunt Karmichael before she went bonkers on him.