I barely made it out of the chamber when the cold, biting wind of the surface hit my face. It was a stark reminder of how much I had isolated myself lately, diving deeper into the arcane, and losing track of everything else. The warnings of that shadowed figure echoed in my mind, though I shoved them down with defiance. What did it know about me? I wasn't weak.
The streets were quieter than usual. The tension in the air was palpable, an unspoken sign of something looming. It wasn't just the ominous sky or the way the light dimmed unnaturally early—it was the anticipation. People in the marketplace glanced over their shoulders more often, their whispers hushed. Even the city guards, usually bored and leaning lazily on their spears, stood more alert, their eyes scanning the surroundings with a nervous edge.
A week had passed since my encounter with the decayed figure in the chamber, but it had only served to fuel my thirst for more power. Whatever this force was that I had tapped into, it was clear that I had only scratched the surface. And I intended to plunge deeper.
As I moved through the narrow alleyways, my thoughts returned to the Order of the Veil. Their presence had become more apparent in the city, lurking in the shadows, manipulating the people from behind the scenes. They were after something—something big. And it involved me. My dreams had been filled with cryptic visions, and I could feel them watching. But if they thought I was going to play along, they were sorely mistaken.
I had a lead. An old sorcerer who had been excommunicated from the Tower of Arcanists, who was rumored to know the forbidden magics. His name was Varrick, and he lived on the outskirts of the city, hidden in the slums where the law barely reached. They said he had survived the corruption of the Veil—if anyone knew how to push the limits without losing their soul, it was him.
I reached the slums as twilight fell. The stench of decay and unwashed bodies permeated the air, but I paid no attention. I had seen worse. A narrow path led to an abandoned-looking structure—a collapsed shack, hardly noticeable unless you knew what to look for. And I did.
The door creaked as I pushed it open, the inside barely illuminated by a few flickering candles. The air was thick with incense, masking the dampness of the place. The walls were lined with tattered scrolls and old tomes, stacked in precarious piles, as though Varrick's thirst for knowledge had long since outgrown his ability to organize it.
In the center of the room sat the man himself—Varrick. A gaunt figure, hunched over a book, his fingers tracing the lines of text like they were the only thing tethering him to reality. His eyes were sunken, with dark rings beneath them, but they gleamed with an intensity that made it clear he was no ordinary sorcerer.
"You're late," he said without looking up, his voice a raspy whisper.
"I wasn't aware I had an appointment," I replied, stepping further into the room.
Varrick finally looked up, his eyes locking onto mine with a look that made my skin crawl. It was like he could see right through me, peeling back the layers and examining the darkness inside.
"I can smell the Veil on you," he said, his voice low and full of knowing. "You've touched it, haven't you? And now you're looking for answers."
I crossed my arms, keeping my expression neutral. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just here to see what an old fool has to offer."
Varrick chuckled, a sound that was more like the scraping of bones than a laugh. "Careful, boy. The Veil is not something you can toy with lightly. You think you've seen power? You've barely glimpsed it."
"That's why I'm here," I replied, stepping closer. "I want more."
Varrick's smile widened, but it wasn't friendly. It was the smile of someone who had seen far too much and come out the other side twisted. "Of course you do. But the question is—are you willing to pay the price?"
I had already thought about that. Every decision I'd made so far had led me down this path, a road that only got darker the further I walked. But there was no turning back. "I'll pay whatever it takes."
Varrick rose slowly, his body creaking as if every movement pained him. He shuffled over to one of the piles of books and pulled out a scroll, its edges frayed and yellowed with age. "This is what you seek," he said, handing it to me. "But be warned—once you start down this path, there's no coming back."
I took the scroll, my fingers brushing the brittle parchment. I could feel the power pulsing through it, ancient and dangerous. This was it—what I had been searching for. The next step.
Varrick's eyes narrowed. "The Veil doesn't just grant power. It takes, too. You think you control it, but it's always watching, always waiting for you to slip."
I unfurled the scroll slowly, my eyes scanning the symbols etched into the paper. The magic was complex, far beyond anything I had learned at the Academy. But it was there—the key to unlocking the full potential of the Veil's power.
Varrick watched me closely, his expression unreadable. "The ritual on that scroll will open the door. But be careful—once it's open, it can never be closed."
"I know the risks," I said, rolling the scroll back up. "And I'm ready."
The old sorcerer let out a long sigh, shaking his head. "Then you're a fool. But I suppose we all are, in the end."
I turned to leave, the scroll tucked safely under my arm. "One last thing," Varrick called after me. "When the time comes, and it will, you'll have to make a choice. Between the power and your soul. Just remember—you can't have both."
I didn't respond. I had already made my choice. Power was all that mattered now. The rest—my soul, my humanity—was just collateral damage.
As I stepped out of Varrick's shack and back into the cold night, the weight of the scroll pressed heavily against me. The ritual was dangerous, but I had no doubt that it would work. It had to.
But something gnawed at the back of my mind—Varrick's warning. The Veil had already taken more from me than I realized, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it was only just beginning.
I shoved the thought aside. There was no room for doubt. If I was going to face the Order of the Veil, if I was going to stand any chance of controlling the power they sought to unleash, I needed to master the magic of the Veil.
And I would. No matter the cost.