Maerlyn awoke to the soft murmur of voices around him. His body ached, his limbs heavy as though he'd been asleep for centuries. He tried to open his eyes but found the effort exhausting, as though every movement drained what little strength remained in him. The world felt distant, muffled by the weight of his own thoughts.
He could hear Thalon's voice, urgent but calm, though he couldn't make out the words. And then, Lirion's more clipped tone, carrying with it the familiar edge of concern. The soft rustling of fabric told him that someone was nearby, tending to him.
Where am I? Maerlyn thought, forcing his body to respond to his commands.
"Maerlyn," Thalon's voice was suddenly clear, right by his ear. "It's good to see you awake. How do you feel?"
It took Maerlyn a moment to form a response. His throat felt dry, and his words came out raspy, barely a whisper. "Tired… heavy…"
"You expended far too much energy, Maerlyn," Thalon said gently. "It's a miracle you survived."
As his senses slowly returned to him, Maerlyn became aware of the world around him. They were no longer standing at the site of the rift. The air was still, warmer now, and the harsh light that had bathed the world during their confrontation with the rift had softened. He was lying on the ground, but it was a soft, grassy patch, far removed from the chaotic force that had torn at reality.
Maerlyn tried to sit up, but his body refused to obey. He was too weak, as though his very life force had been siphoned away. Thalon's hand pressed gently on his shoulder, urging him to lie back down.
"Don't try to move just yet," Thalon said. "You've paid a heavy price."
Maerlyn closed his eyes again, trying to summon the strength to process everything. The rift had been sealed—he remembered that much. But at what cost? The power that had surged through him, the overwhelming magic of the Veil—it had been unlike anything he'd ever felt. It had almost consumed him.
The weight of that magic pressed down on him now, like an invisible chain.
"What happened to the rift?" Maerlyn finally managed to ask, his voice still strained.
"It's closed," Lirion's voice answered this time. "The tear in reality has vanished. We saw it with our own eyes. But the damage to the fabric of the Veil will take time to repair."
"Good," Maerlyn muttered, his eyes fluttering open again, though the world still seemed hazy. "That was… too close."
"We were about to lose everything," Lirion agreed. "And it's thanks to you that we didn't."
Maerlyn's eyes met Lirion's, but he could see the concern in the warrior's gaze. "But at what cost?" he murmured, the words slipping from his mouth before he could stop them. "I... I felt it. That power—*it's* still in me, isn't it?"
Thalon nodded gravely. "Yes, you tapped into a force beyond our understanding, Maerlyn. It's not something that can be contained easily. You've merged with the magic of the Veil itself."
For a long moment, Maerlyn lay still, his breath shallow as the weight of Thalon's words settled over him. He had known, deep down, that whatever power he had called upon would not be without consequence. But this—this was more than he had imagined. It wasn't just the rift he had closed; it was something that had changed him at his very core.
"I… I didn't ask for this," Maerlyn whispered, his voice thick with exhaustion. "I didn't ask to become a part of the Veil."
"None of us ever ask for the burden we carry," Thalon said softly. "But you did what had to be done. And now, we need to figure out what comes next."
"I feel... different," Maerlyn admitted, his hands trembling as he tried to sit up again. This time, he succeeded, though his vision swam, and a wave of dizziness washed over him. "It's like the power is... *alive* inside me. It's pulling at me, twisting me."
"Your connection to the Veil is not something that can be easily severed," Thalon explained. "It may take time to adjust to it. To understand it."
Maerlyn clenched his fists, his fingers digging into the ground as the strange magic pulsed within him, like a heartbeat that wasn't his own. He could feel it—an overwhelming presence, as though the very fabric of reality was stretching in response to his every thought. It felt foreign, alien, yet somehow familiar. The threads of fate were no longer abstract to him. They were tangible.
And they were beginning to unravel.
"Is this what it means to be a part of the Veil?" Maerlyn whispered to himself, but Thalon was quick to respond.
"No," Thalon said firmly. "You're not just a part of the Veil—you are connected to it. The balance of our world and the rift itself have been shifted. You have power, Maerlyn, but it's not without consequence. The Veil is not a force that can be controlled, nor is it kind to those who wield it."
Lirion's voice was sharp, as though he too understood the weight of the situation. "So, what now? What happens when Maerlyn can't control the power inside him?"
Thalon's gaze grew distant, his eyes darkening. "The Codex warned us that tampering with the Veil could lead to irreversible consequences. The fabric of reality may be damaged, but so too is Maerlyn's essence. This power—the magic of the Veil—could either destroy him or make him something... else entirely."
Maerlyn flinched at the words. *Destroy him*—that was a thought he didn't want to entertain. Yet he knew, deep down, that Thalon wasn't exaggerating. He could feel it in the depths of his soul. The power within him was a force of destruction as much as it was of creation. It was a curse as much as it was a gift.
"We need to figure out how to control it," Maerlyn said quietly, more to himself than to anyone else. "Before it controls me."
Thalon nodded slowly, his expression grave. "The first step is understanding it. We need to study the Codex more carefully—there may be something in it that can help you harness this power. Or at least, help you keep it from consuming you."
Maerlyn nodded, though the thought of delving deeper into the Codex felt like it might be more than he could handle right now. But there was no other choice. He had to understand what he had become before it was too late.
The group fell into an uneasy silence, the weight of their uncertain future pressing down on them. The rift was closed, for now, but something darker lingered beneath the surface. The cost of their victory was still unfolding, and Maerlyn could feel that the road ahead would be far more treacherous than anything they had yet faced.
And as if to confirm his fear, a faint echo of something ancient stirred within him—a whisper from the Veil itself, calling him forward.
He just wasn't sure whether he was ready to answer.