The cold wind gnawed at my skin as I left Varrick's lair, the scroll hidden beneath my cloak. The slums were even more desolate at night, the streets empty, save for the occasional drunkard stumbling through the filth. My steps echoed in the quiet, and every shadow seemed to stretch and follow me, as if the Veil itself were whispering at my heels.
Power had a price, and I was prepared to pay it. Varrick's warnings echoed in my mind, but I had already chosen my path. There was no turning back.
The ritual on the scroll was complicated, ancient, and drenched in peril. I had spent the past few days poring over the text, deciphering the archaic symbols and the instructions, but some pieces still eluded me. I needed more knowledge—more understanding—before I could attempt it.
That was why I was heading to the Tower of Arcanists. It was risky, considering they had branded me a rogue mage, but the library within the Tower was the most extensive in the city. If there were any place that held the answers I sought, it was there.
The Tower loomed in the distance, its silhouette black against the moonlit sky. I quickened my pace, heart pounding with a mixture of fear and excitement. If the Arcanists found me, I would face far more than expulsion—they would likely kill me for what I had become. But the allure of power was stronger than the fear of death.
As I approached the Tower, I noticed something strange. There were no guards patrolling the perimeter. Normally, the entrance was heavily fortified, especially after dark, but tonight it stood unguarded, the massive iron doors slightly ajar. My heart skipped a beat.
Was this a trap?
I hesitated at the threshold, my senses on high alert. But I couldn't afford to turn back now. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open wider and stepped inside.
The interior of the Tower was eerily quiet, the vast hallways illuminated only by the soft glow of arcane torches lining the walls. The stillness was unsettling. I moved quickly, keeping to the shadows as I made my way toward the library.
My footsteps echoed in the cavernous halls, but no one seemed to notice. The absence of other mages was unnerving. Had something happened here?
As I approached the entrance to the library, I felt a sudden, sharp tug in my chest—a pull, like a thread of my soul being yanked forward. I froze, my hand instinctively going to the scroll beneath my cloak. The pull intensified, guiding me toward the large wooden doors that led to the library's inner sanctum.
This wasn't normal.
I reached for the door handle, and as my fingers touched the cool metal, a wave of cold rushed over me, like plunging into icy water. The pull became unbearable, and I could no longer resist it. I pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The library was a labyrinth of towering shelves, each filled with tomes, scrolls, and grimoires that contained centuries' worth of magical knowledge. The air was thick with the scent of old paper and candle wax. But something was wrong.
At the center of the room, an enormous, shimmering rift hovered above the stone floor, crackling with dark energy. Tendrils of shadow twisted and writhed within it, like serpents coiling around an unseen core. The pull in my chest was now a searing pain, as if something inside me was being drawn toward the rift.
I stumbled forward, unable to stop myself. The rift's energy was intoxicating, a siren call of raw, unbridled power. It felt like the Veil itself was reaching out to me, beckoning me to step inside.
"Stop!" A voice rang out, breaking the spell.
I spun around, my heart racing. A figure stood at the entrance to the library, bathed in the dim glow of the torches. It was a man, tall and imposing, dressed in the regal robes of a high-ranking Arcanist. His eyes blazed with fury and something else—fear.
"You're meddling with forces you don't understand," he hissed, stepping forward, his hand raised as if to cast a spell. "That rift—it's a tear in the Veil. Do you have any idea what you've done?"
I backed away from the rift, my mind spinning. "I didn't create it," I said, my voice hoarse. "But I can feel it… pulling me."
The Arcanist's expression darkened. "Of course it's pulling you. You've been tainted by the Veil, haven't you? You've touched its power, and now it seeks to claim you."
I didn't deny it. The Veil had its hooks in me, and the power it promised was too great to resist. But I wasn't about to let this man stop me.
"Stand aside," I warned, my hand instinctively moving toward the scroll. "I need the knowledge in this library. I need to understand the Veil."
The Arcanist shook his head. "You fool. You think the Veil is something you can control? It's not a tool—it's a force of destruction. It consumes everything in its path."
I gritted my teeth. "That's not for you to decide."
Without warning, the Arcanist unleashed a torrent of magic, the air crackling with energy as a bolt of lightning shot toward me. I barely had time to react, diving to the side as the bolt struck the floor where I had been standing moments before.
The ground trembled beneath me, the force of the spell leaving cracks in the stone. I scrambled to my feet, my heart pounding in my chest. I didn't have time for this.
Drawing on the power of the Veil, I summoned a barrier of shadow around myself, deflecting the next attack. The Arcanist's eyes widened in shock, but he quickly recovered, preparing another spell.
Before he could cast it, I lunged forward, the scroll still clutched tightly in my hand. With a burst of energy, I unleashed a wave of dark magic, sending the Arcanist crashing into the shelves behind him. Books and scrolls toppled to the floor as he struggled to regain his footing.
I didn't give him the chance. Summoning the power of the Veil again, I created a tendril of shadow that wrapped around his throat, lifting him off the ground. He gasped for air, his eyes bulging in terror.
"You don't understand," he choked out, his voice barely a whisper. "The Veil… it will destroy you."
I tightened my grip. "Maybe. But not before I get what I want."
With a final squeeze, I ended his life. His body slumped to the floor, lifeless. The room fell silent once more, save for the crackling of the rift behind me.
I turned back to the rift, my heart still pounding. The pull was stronger now, almost unbearable. But I had what I needed—the scroll, the knowledge, and the power.
All that was left was to take the final step.
I stepped closer to the rift, my fingers brushing the edge of the dark energy. It pulsed beneath my touch, alive and full of promise. And then, without hesitation, I stepped through.
The world around me dissolved into darkness, and the last thing I heard was the sound of my own heartbeat, fading into the abyss.