The sun hung low over Solaria, casting golden streaks across the sky as the waves lapped gently against the cliffs. A warm breeze drifted through the village, carrying the scent of salt and ripe fruit from the marketplace below. The people moved with purpose, their white and blue robes fluttering like the wings of the island gulls that circled above.

  It was the Day of Callings—the moment every young Solarian awaited. The day when they would finally step into their destined roles.

  Neliha adjusted the clasp of her tunic, fingers fumbling as she exhaled slowly. Her heart had been hammering in her chest all morning, but she refused to let her nerves show. Not when the entire village would be watching.

  She wasn’t alone.

  Beside her, a handful of others stood waiting, their eyes fixed on the Elder’s platform at the heart of the gathering. Some whispered nervously to one another, their excitement barely contained, while others—like Talo stood with arms crossed, unreadable expressions masking whatever thoughts ran through their minds.

  Neliha glanced at Capri, who was bouncing on her heels, her usual smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

  "You nervous?" Capri whispered, nudging her with an elbow.

  Neliha gave her a sideways glance. "No."

  "Zhaikar."

  A bell tolled from the high tower, silencing the murmurs in the square. The Elders stepped forward, their ceremonial robes gleaming under the sun. Chief Milifia stood at the center, her silver-threaded cloak shifting with the breeze as her gaze swept over the gathered initiates.

  "The Spiral Thread turns once more," Milifia’s voice rang clear, commanding the attention of all. "Today, as it has been for generations, we welcome our youth into their Callings. The Spiral Thread has woven your fates, and now you shall walk the paths destined for you."

  A hush fell over the crowd.

  The chamber pulsed with ancient energy, the air charged with an unseen force. The Infinity Necklace glowed in response, activating the ritual that would bind the Finiti to their destinies. Around them, the circular stone chamber came alive with floating runes and shifting constellations, the spirits of past warriors watching in silent approval.

  Names were called one by one. The newly chosen stepped forward to receive their markings, symbols of their Calling, etched into their forearms in glowing ink.

  Capri was among the first. When her name was spoken, she strode forward confidently, shoulders back, chin high. As the Elder pressed the Swimmah’s Mark to her skin, a faint blue shimmer ran along the lines, like water catching the light.

  The sigil took shape, a wave curling into a crescent moon, rippling as if alive. The sapphire glow spread across her wrist, flowing up her veins before settling into her skin. Capri flexed her fingers, testing the strange new energy that surged through her.

  She grinned, stepping back, feeling more connected to the ocean than ever.

  Talo’s turn came next. He approached without hesitation, his expression unreadable. When the Reinf’s Mark touched his forearm, the sigil burned itself into his skin, its fiery red glow pulsing like embers.

  The symbol formed—two crossed swords engulfed in flame, their edges sharp and unyielding. The red light flickered, reflecting the fire within him. He barely reacted to the pain, only giving a small nod before retreating to his place, silent as ever.

  Yet, deep inside, he felt something shift. The power hummed beneath his skin, waiting.

  Virtu followed, his sharp gaze analyzing the ritual even as he stepped forward. The Tekah’s Mark settled onto his forearm, its golden circuitry pattern glowing like electric threads woven into his skin.

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  The sigil pulsed, a gear fused with a spiraling gust of wind, symbolizing his mastery over technology and his future control over air. Sparks of lightning energy crackled faintly before stabilizing.

  Virtu tilted his wrist, observing the intricate golden design with curiosity. The mark was alive with potential, waiting to be unlocked.

  Laciyah hesitated before stepping forward, feeling the weight of her role settle on her shoulders. As the Relaeh Mark met her skin, warmth spread through her arm, a deep emerald green glow blooming like new life in spring.

  The symbol took shape, a tree with its roots entwined into a heart, pulsing in sync with her heartbeat. The glow faded to a soft luminescence, but the mark’s presence remained strong. She exhaled slowly, adjusting to the rush of life magic now coursing through her veins. A quiet understanding settled over her, this was who she was meant to be.

  Until only Neliha remained.

  She swallowed, stepping forward, the weight of the entire village pressing against her shoulders. The air felt charged, as if the very island was holding its breath.

  Milifia met her gaze, eyes searching, measuring. Then, she lifted something from a carved wooden box.

  A necklace.

  At first glance, it was unremarkable. A simple silver chain with a small spiral pendant, dull and lifeless, as if it had been tucked away for centuries.

  Then, before Milifia could extend it to her,

  The necklace lifted on its own.

  A sharp inhale swept through the gathering.

  The chain hovered between them, suspended in the air, the pendant trembling as if awakening. A low hum filled the space, a sound that seemed to resonate deep in Neliha’s bones.

  Then, like a breath drawn after a long slumber, the metal began to change.

  Silver melted into gold, then deepened into a shifting iridescent sheen—gold, silver, and deep violet swirling together like captured stardust. The pendant, once plain, reshaped itself—delicate bands weaving into an infinity loop, intertwining like the strands of fate itself.

  At its center, the spiral stretched and expanded, forming a multifaceted crystal, its surface alive with shifting colors. Tiny celestial patterns flickered within—starbursts, swirling galaxies, sands flowing like an eternal hourglass.

  Gasps rippled through the crowd.

  The air pulsed.

  The necklace moved—not floating aimlessly, but choosing.

  And with a snap of light, it shot toward Neliha.

  She barely had time to react before it clasped itself around her neck.

  A shock of energy rushed through her veins.

  Her breath hitched, her vision exploding with light.

  Images flashed through her mind—a storm raging over the island, a city swallowed by shadow, a spiral of unraveling time.

  Then, just as suddenly as they came, they vanished.

  The crystal pulsed, its colors shifting in sync with the frantic beat of her heart.

  The murmurs around her grew. Some whispered in awe. Others in fear.

  The Elders exchanged unreadable glances.

  Milifia straightened, voice steady but heavy with meaning.

  "The Finiti has returned."

  And yet, she still needs to receive her final marking.

  “ Now, you will receive your marking.”

  The mark of the Timeweaver.

  Neliha stepped forward, her heart steady despite the weight of what was to come. She was not like the others—she had not been born with her Calling. She had been chosen by the Necklace, the first in centuries. And now, she would be marked by time itself.

  A glow spread from the Infinity Necklace, tendrils of light wrapping around her forearm, twisting and shifting as if deciding what form to take. The warmth was gentle at first, then searing, like the touch of fate branding itself onto her skin.

  Her breath caught. It felt as though time itself was etching into her very being.

  Then, the sigil appeared.

  A radiant hourglass entwined in an infinity loop, its sands shifting with every heartbeat. The symbol gleamed with golden-white energy, but as she flexed her fingers, it flickered, threads of deep violet weaving through the glow.

  The hourglass shimmered, the sands inside moving in impossible patterns—sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes stopping altogether.

  Neliha exhaled as the burning sensation faded, leaving only an overwhelming awareness in its place.

  Her marking was alive.

  She turned her arm over, watching as the glow settled into her skin.

  The Timeweaver’s Mark was more than just a symbol.

  It was a promise. A burden. A destiny she could no longer escape.

  The future had been set in motion.

  Everything had changed.