The air smelled of ozone and iron as Kaelen stepped over the cracked stone, his boots crunching on fragments of what had once been a gateway. The sky above twisted in slow, serpentine coils, its usual blue replaced by a sickly green that pulsed like a living thing. He didn’t look up. The map in his hand was soaked through, ink bleeding into the parchment, but he didn’t need it. The ruins had called to him since the moment he’d crossed the river, a low hum beneath his ribs that grew louder with every step.
“You shouldn’t be here,” said a voice behind him, sharp as a blade. Kaelen turned, fingers twitching toward the dagger at his belt. A woman stood at the edge of the clearing, her cloak frayed at the seams, a staff of blackened wood in her hands. Her eyes were the color of storm clouds, and they fixed on him with a certainty that made his pulse quicken.
“And you should be somewhere else,” Kaelen replied. His voice was steady, but his hand hovered. The woman didn’t move. She didn’t need to. The air between them crackled, a silent challenge.
She took a step forward, and the ground shifted. A ripple of energy rolled outward, sending dust spiraling into the air. Kaelen staggered, his vision swimming. When it cleared, the woman was closer, her staff planted in the earth as if anchoring herself. “This place is dead,” she said. “You don’t belong here.”
“Neither do you.”
A flicker of something—amusement?—crossed her face. “Maybe not. But I’m here to stop what’s coming.” She lifted her staff, and the ground beneath them groaned. Kaelen dropped into a crouch as a column of black flame erupted where he’d stood, burning a jagged scar into the earth. He rolled, coming up against the cold curve of a broken pillar. His breath came fast, his mind racing. The woman didn’t move. She hadn’t needed to strike again. She’d already made her point.
“What’s coming?” he asked, voice hoarse.
She studied him, then exhaled through her nose. “The Veil’s breaking. You feel it, don’t you? The hum in your bones?”
Kaelen didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The truth was too big, too loud, and it had been growing in him since the day he’d found the first shard of the gateway buried in the riverbed. He’d spent years trying to ignore it, to convince himself it was a trick of the light, a delusion born of too many sleepless nights poring over ancient texts. But the world had never been kind to those who questioned too much.
The woman tilted her head, as if listening. “You’re not like the others,” she said. “They come looking for power. You… you’re searching for something else.”
“What if I am?”
She didn’t reply. Instead, she turned, her cloak swirling behind her as she walked toward the heart of the ruins. Kaelen hesitated, then followed. The air thickened as they moved, pressing against his skin like a living thing. The closer they got to the center, the more the world seemed to bend—shapes wavered at the edges of his vision, sounds echoed in reverse, and the scent of ozone grew stronger, sharp and metallic.
“Wait,” Kaelen said, grabbing her arm. She didn’t flinch. “Why are you helping me?”
She looked at him then, and for the first time, he saw something in her eyes that wasn’t just warning. It was sorrow. “Because I’ve seen what happens when the Veil falls,” she said. “And I won’t let it happen again.”
The ground trembled. A deep, resonant sound rolled through the ruins, like a distant thunder that had no source. Kaelen’s fingers tightened around his dagger. Whatever was coming, it was almost here.
“Then tell me,” he said. “Tell me what I need to know.”
The woman’s gaze didn’t waver. “You already do,” she said. “You just don’t want to believe it.”
And with that, the world shifted again, the air thickening into something tangible, something ancient. The ruins screamed. The sky split open. And Kaelen stepped forward, into the unknown.
