Unweaving Spire

The Unweaving Spire was once the central loom-temple of Myriath, a living monument where threads of magic, memory, and law were recorded and balanced. Raised at the exact convergence of the world’s ley lines, it functioned as both spiritual sanctuary and metaphysical stabilizer, a place where arcane excess could be redistributed, purified, or sealed away.   To the Thalrani, the Spire was not merely sacred; it was sentient. It responded to offerings, aligned itself with celestial events, and resonated with music and prayer. Rulers from across Myriath made pilgrimage here not for coronation or power, but to seek the blessing of the Weave itself.   Today, it no longer serves as a functional loom, but its symbolic weight has only grown. It is the final standing artifact of Myriath, a relic of unimaginable significance, and the anchor of the Festival of Threads.

Since the Great Sundering, the Spire has not changed. Not naturally. Not structurally. Not at all.   No tool can scratch it. No spell can move it. Attempts to alter or properly measure the Spire have failed, resulting in contradictions in time, scale, or observer memory. Some reports claim it stands at 300 feet. Others swear it is infinite.   The only visible difference occurred once, during The Severance War, when an unauthorized ritual performed near its base caused a spiral ring of luminous runes to ignite along its lower half. The symbols vanished after the Banishment Edict was enacted, but many believe the Spire absorbed the conflict.   The Thalrani Council has since banned all arcane workings within visible proximity of the Spire, except for the tightly-controlled Threadsend Ceremony at the end of each Festival.

The Spire is composed of a material unknown to modern arcanists, an iridescent stone that flickers between obsidian, moonstone, and woven crystal. Its surface is impossibly smooth, yet faintly textured with concentric spiral patterns, as if formed by the world’s hand.   It is spiral in form, narrow at the base, impossibly narrow at the top, and seemingly unsupported by foundation or strut. Rather than casting a shadow, it absorbs shadows into itself at high noon and casts a reverse silhouette during lunar alignments.   Windows, doors, or entry points are either absent or imperceptible. Some believe the Spire is hollow and vast inside; others claim it is solid all the way through. A few ancient myths suggest that the Spire was once climbed, but that no one who reached its peak ever returned the same.

Whether by ancient design or divine decree, the Unweaving Spire defends itself without intervention.   All known magical interference is nullified within a quarter-mile radius. Scrying fails. Teleportation backfires. Constructs shut down. Enchanted weapons lose their luster. The effect is neither aggressive nor overtly hostile; it is simply absolute. It is a zone of enforced neutrality.   During the Festival of Threads, Threadwatchers and the Silent Loom enforce a physical perimeter around the Silver Causeway, the only official route that brings pilgrims within visible range of the Spire.   Only the Threadsend Envoy, chosen by consensus of the Thalrani bloodlines, is permitted to approach the Spire alone, bearing the ceremonial Loomscroll.

The origins of the Unweaving Spire are as mysterious as the Weave itself. Some say it rose naturally, pulled skyward by the threads of the world’s own breath. Others claim it was woven into existence by a circle of archmagi who sacrificed their lives to bind chaos.   Regardless, the Spire has always been the center of geography, of ritual, of destiny. It housed the Loom of Accord, the metaphysical engine that regulated Myriath’s balance. It is here that the First Accord was codified in memory and magic, and it is here that the Final Fracture began, undoing the threads of unity and splintering the continent forever.   In the post-Sundering era, the Spire has remained untouched. Even during The Severance War, when a faction of Thalrani attempted to claim it as a new capital, the Spire stood unresponsive until the land itself retaliated, destabilizing nearby camps and igniting a ring of anti-settlement energies.   After the Banishment Edict, the Spire was officially declared unclaimable. It remains a relic, a warning, and a hope all at once.

Despite its isolation and danger, the Unweaving Spire is one of the most coveted pilgrimage destinations in the world.   From the Silver Causeway near Virelin’s Step, visitors can witness its majesty from a safe distance during the Festival of Threads. Artists weep upon seeing it. Arcanists abandon decades of theory. Children born under its shadow are said to be "Threadtouched," blessed, cursed, or marked by fate.   No one lives near the Spire. No one dares camp beneath it. But all who visit it leave changed.   Even non-Thalrani visitors feel a pull at a moment where time slows, silence expands, and the world feels like it might be remembering itself.