The air in Emberfall smelled of smoke and iron, a scent Kaela had known since birth. Her fingers traced the grooves of the lantern she carried, its glass surface etched with runes that pulsed faintly in the dim light. The village square was empty except for the wind, which howled through the narrow streets like a wounded thing. She tightened her cloak against the chill, though the cold had nothing to do with the weather. It was the other thing—the hunger in the air, the way the shadows seemed to thicken at the edges of her vision.
A crash echoed from the forges. Kaela turned, her heart hammering. The clang of metal against stone rang out again, then a scream. She ran, boots slapping against the cobblestones, her lantern casting jagged light across the walls. When she reached the forge, the sight stopped her dead.
The flames had gone black. Not the deep blue of smoldering coals, but a living void, writhing like smoke. A figure stood in the center, their back to her, arms outstretched as if commanding the darkness. The fire around them sputtered and died. Kaela’s breath came in short bursts. She had seen the stories—how the Veil had begun to unravel, how the shadow things whispered to those who listened. But this… this was real.
The figure turned. Their face was obscured by a hood, but Kaela could feel their gaze, sharp as a blade. “You shouldn’t be here,” they said, voice like wind through broken glass.
“Who are you?” she demanded, though her legs trembled.
The figure tilted their head. “A reminder. The light is fading, child. You know this.” They stepped forward, and the shadows stretched, pooling at their feet. Kaela gripped the lantern tighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied.
The figure laughed, a sound that made the air vibrate. “You do. You always have.” They raised a hand, and the shadows surged toward her. Kaela ducked, the darkness brushing her shoulder. It left a burning cold in its wake. She ran, not back to the square but toward the old quarter, where the archives stood. If there was any record of this, any answer, it would be there.
The archives were silent, their stone walls cool beneath her fingertips. She lit another lantern, its glow flickering against the shelves of scrolls and tomes. Her hands shook as she pulled one free, unrolling it with care. The script was old, the ink faded, but the words were clear: *The Veil is a wound. It feeds on what it takes. To mend it, you must give what you hold most dear.*
Kaela’s breath caught. She thought of her mother’s laughter, the way it had echoed in the forge. Of the light she had always felt in her blood, the way it pulsed when she touched the lanterns. A price. But what could she offer? Her life? Her light? The thought made her stomach twist.
A noise behind her. She turned, lantern raised. The figure stood in the doorway, their hood lowered now. Their face was pale, their eyes hollow voids. “You understand,” they said.
“I don’t,” she whispered.
“You do.” They took a step closer. “The Veil is not a thing to be fought. It is a choice. You will give your light, or you will let the world burn.” The shadows around them thickened, pressing in. Kaela’s mind raced. There had to be another way. But the archives held no other answers, only the cruel truth of the words etched in ink.
She looked down at the lantern in her hands. Its glow was dimming, as if the very air were siphoning it away. A thought struck her. “What if I don’t give it? What if I… fight?”
The figure’s eyes narrowed. “You think you can hold back the dark?” They raised a hand, and the shadows lunged. Kaela dove aside, the darkness scraping her cheek. She scrambled to her feet, heart pounding. The archives were no longer safe. She had to leave, had to find something—anything—that could help her.
She ran through the village, past the silent homes and the empty streets. The shadows followed, stretching like ink in water. When she reached the edge of Emberfall, she stopped. Before her stretched the Blackwood, its trees twisted and gnarled, their branches clawing at the sky. The stories said no one entered the Blackwood and returned. But Kaela had no choice.
She stepped into the forest, the air growing colder with each step. The shadows clung to her, whispering in a language she didn’t understand. She pressed on, lantern held high, its light barely piercing the gloom. Then, a sound—a soft crack, like a branch snapping. She froze.
“Who’s there?” she called, her voice steady despite the fear clawing at her chest.
A figure emerged from the shadows. It was human, but not quite. Their skin was pale, their eyes glowing faintly. “You shouldn’t be here,” they said, voice low and rasping.
“I don’t have a choice,” Kaela replied. “I need to find the light. The Veil… it’s breaking.” She hesitated. “You know about it, don’t you?”
The figure studied her, then nodded. “Come. If you wish to survive, you must see what lies beyond.” They turned and walked into the forest, their form blending with the darkness. Kaela followed, heart pounding. The Blackwood was alive, its secrets waiting to be uncovered.
As they walked, the shadows around them shifted, revealing glimpses of a world unseen. Trees with silver leaves whispered in the wind. Pools of black water reflected not the sky, but something else—something ancient. Kaela felt the weight of the Veil pressing against her, but she didn’t look away. She had to know. She had to understand.
Eventually, they reached a clearing. In the center stood a stone pedestal, its surface covered in glowing runes. Atop it rested a single lantern, its light pure and bright. Kaela’s breath caught. This was it—the source of the light she had always felt in her blood. But as she stepped closer, the figure spoke again.
“This is not a gift,” they said. “It is a test. To take it, you must give something in return.” Their eyes locked onto hers. “What will you offer?”
Kaela’s mind raced. What could she give? Her memories? Her time? She thought of her mother, of the forge, of the life she had known. But the Veil was still spreading, and if she didn’t act, Emberfall would be lost. She took a deep breath.
“I’ll give my light,” she said. “But not without knowing why.” The figure studied her for a long moment, then nodded. They stepped aside, and Kaela approached the pedestal.
As her fingers touched the lantern, a surge of warmth filled her. It wasn’t just light—it was memory, emotion, everything she had ever felt. The Veil trembled, its shadows recoiling. Kaela closed her eyes, letting the light flow through her. When she opened them again, the clearing was brighter, the shadows retreating. The figure nodded, then disappeared into the forest.
Kaela turned back toward Emberfall, the lantern burning in her hands. The village was still under threat, but she had what she needed. She would face the Veil, not with fear, but with the light she had always carried within her. And as she walked through the Blackwood, the shadows followed, watching, waiting. The battle was only beginning.
