As Captain Yuzen Raiel opened her eyes, the first thing she felt was the emptiness.
Her memories were gone, whisked away by the Forge, leaving a quiet, hollow space where moments, names, and faces once dwelled. She knew she was standing, she knew she was Yuzen Raiel, but beyond that, her past had been blurred, wiped clean by the Keeper's command.
Around her, the Veil of Eternity stretched out—a landscape of shifting shadows and points of starlight caught in an endless, rippling expanse. It was as if she had stepped inside a memory itself, a place suspended between reality and thought.
"You are within the Veil," came the Keeper's voice, faint and echoing as though it drifted from a great distance. "Here, you will find only fragments—traces of what has been, glimpses of what may yet come. Each memory here bears its own price. Choose carefully, for once you grasp a fragment, it cannot be undone."
Yuzen took a step forward, her hand reaching out instinctively as her surroundings morphed and shifted, the shadows moving like fabric. As she brushed against them, visions flickered to life: a child chasing a silver kite, a hooded figure kneeling on a mountaintop, a flash of two suns setting over a red sea. Each fragment appeared for only a heartbeat before slipping away, a fleeting taste of lives once lived.
"Where do I start?" Yuzen's voice was hoarse, disoriented. She was drawn to one of the shapes—a memory suspended in a liquid sphere, glinting with an iridescent glow. Inside, she could make out the silhouette of a grand citadel, its spires reaching into a violet sky.
"Begin with what resonates," the Keeper's voice answered, softer now, more elusive. "In the Veil, the past is layered. The further you reach, the older the memory. Some linger near the surface, and others are buried beneath eons."
Yuzen closed her eyes, feeling the faint pulse of the memory in her hand, letting it pull her into its depths.
Suddenly, she was there, standing within the memory itself.
It was dusk on the citadel's terrace, high above an endless valley bathed in twilight. The air hummed with life, and faint voices drifted from the halls behind her. Figures—people cloaked in robes adorned with silver and stardust—gathered around her, though they did not look directly at her, as if she were invisible, only an observer.
"Eilura," one of them spoke, their voice a low murmur, reverent. "The Forge's resonance is weakening. We must prepare to rebind the echoes before they bleed into the Veil."
"Bind them to what?" replied another, their voice skeptical. "The Forge grows restless. Every year it is more difficult to hold. If we continue, the Veil will tear, and the Keeper herself may be unable to restrain it."
There was a pause, thick with implication, as the others turned to a single figure standing at the head of the group—a tall woman in dark robes, her face obscured by a mask of polished metal. This was Eilura, their leader, and even in this half-reality, Yuzen could feel the weight of her authority. Eilura's gloved hand lifted, her voice low and steady.
"The Veil is a sanctuary, not a prison. If the Forge cannot be controlled…then it must be shattered, its energy released."
Gasps rippled through the assembly, but Eilura's words hung heavy in the air, unchallenged.
Yuzen felt herself pulled from the memory as the citadel and its figures dissolved into mist, fading back into the formless expanse of the Veil. She staggered, feeling the aftershock of Eilura's declaration—a notion both terrifying and liberating. The Forge could be shattered.
"That was from…the Celestial Epoch," Yuzen murmured, as though speaking the words aloud would ground her.
"Yes," the Keeper's voice replied, growing closer. "Eilura was the last to stand guard over the Veil before the Rending. She foresaw the Veil's instability, and when she could no longer restrain it, she fractured it. Her sacrifice left the shards scattered across space."
"Then the Forge…" Yuzen's thoughts spiraled, pieces snapping together like links in a chain. "It isn't just a single place. It's scattered. We're only seeing fragments of it here."
The Keeper's voice was almost mournful. "Only fragments remain. Memories…or what is left of them."
Yuzen took a breath, her gaze drifting across the Veil. Somewhere in the infinite depths, she sensed a pull—a remnant of her own memories, bound within the layers of this ancient place. Her hand moved instinctively toward another shimmer in the air, a new fragment—this one bathed in golden light.
As her fingers grazed it, the Veil fell away, and she was plunged into another memory, a scene so vivid it felt real.
She was standing on the banks of a great river, the water an impossible shade of blue, luminescent in the fading light. A bridge spanned the water, made of shimmering stone, each arch carved with intricate patterns of stars and constellations. Figures moved along the bridge, garbed in armor of polished ivory, their faces hidden by helms shaped like animal masks.
This was the Celestial March, the procession of the Elysian Order, and as Yuzen watched, she realized with a jolt that she knew them. They were the guardians of the Aetherbound, the ones who walked the Veil in search of lost memories.
"Raiel," a voice called, soft but insistent. "Raiel, come away from there."
She turned, the name familiar, though she couldn't place it. A figure emerged from the shadows, dressed in a long, hooded robe. His face was concealed, but his posture was one of gentle authority, his hand extended toward her. "There is nothing left for you here. Come back to the path."
The memory was slipping, fading as she fought to hold it. "Who are you?" she asked, feeling the words tear at her as the scene dissolved around her.
The figure's voice echoed through the fading light. "I am what remains of you, Raiel. Remember."
Yuzen blinked, and the vision evaporated, leaving her alone in the Veil once more. But now, her mind was ablaze with questions.
The Keeper's voice returned, softer now, as though she too were a memory on the verge of fading. "You have seen fragments of your own past. What you once sought has changed; it is not the truth of others that brings you here, but the truth of yourself."
"My past?" Yuzen felt a rush of disorientation, as though she were falling through her own memories. "What…what does this place want from me?"
"The Forge is a mirror, Raiel. Those who look within find only themselves. But beware—it takes as it gives, and some memories are best left forgotten."
Yuzen stood in silence, her gaze drifting over the endless expanse of the Veil. She sensed that the path ahead was not one of discovery alone; it was a journey back through her own forgotten past. And whatever secrets lay buried here, she was compelled to unearth them, no matter the cost.
Slowly, she began walking once more, her steps echoing into the infinite distance. The Veil seemed to bend around her, guiding her forward. Each new fragment beckoned her, shimmering with stories and memories, a million lives woven into the delicate fabric of the Veil.
She reached out, touching another fragment, and as she did, the Veil seemed to pulse, growing denser and darker. A shadow moved within the fragment, and she felt a wave of recognition so strong it nearly stopped her heart.
It was herself—an echo of who she had once been, a glimpse of a life she could no longer recall. The figure looked up, meeting her gaze, eyes full of sorrow and urgency, as though they were pleading with her.
But before she could reach out, before she could make contact, the figure vanished, swallowed back into the depths of the Veil.
"Raiel," the Keeper's voice murmured, fading into the darkness. "Be wary. The Veil is patient, but it will consume all who wander too deeply."
The words sent a chill down her spine, but she steeled herself, her resolve unwavering. She would find the truth, no matter what shadows she had to confront, no matter what she had to surrender. She had come too far to turn back now.
And so, Captain Yuzen Raiel ventured further into the Veil of Eternity, each step bringing her closer to her own lost memories, and to a destiny that had been waiting for her across the tides of time.