The landscape beyond the Vale of Echoes was a study in stark contrast. Where the Vale had been dark and oppressive, the world ahead was unnervingly barren. The ground stretched in endless plains of cracked stone, dotted with jagged outcroppings that jutted toward the ash-colored sky like the ribs of a long-dead beast. The air was unnervingly still, carrying neither warmth nor cold, only an unnatural neutrality that made Kael's skin crawl.
Taren walked close to Nyxar's massive frame, his small hand resting against the dragon's side for reassurance. The boy's wide eyes darted nervously at every shadow, and his grip on the spire shard in his pocket never loosened.
"How far to these fractured realms?" Kael asked, his voice breaking the tense silence.
Ashir, their enigmatic guide, strode ahead with an ease that belied the foreboding atmosphere. "Not far, though distance is a strange thing in these lands. The closer you think you are, the farther it becomes—unless you know how to walk the Veil."
Nyxar growled low in his throat, his wings shifting restlessly. "I don't like riddles, wanderer. Speak plainly, or I'll consider leaving you behind."
Ashir chuckled, his golden and black eyes glinting faintly in the dull light. "You'll need me before this is through, dragon. The path we walk is treacherous, and without guidance, you'll lose yourselves to the space between realms."
Kael exchanged a wary glance with Nyxar but said nothing. Instead, he focused on the Flame within him, its steady warmth anchoring him against the unease that pressed down like a suffocating blanket.
Hours passed in tense silence as they traversed the desolate plain. The ground seemed to shift underfoot, and Kael couldn't shake the feeling that the landscape was watching them. Every so often, Ashir would pause, raising his staff to the air as though listening for something.
"What are you doing?" Taren finally asked, his voice tinged with both curiosity and fear.
"Seeking the breaches," Ashir replied without turning. "The fractures between realms are not static; they move and shift like currents in a vast sea. To find the path, one must hear the song of the Veil."
Taren frowned, his small hands curling into fists. "I don't hear anything."
Ashir stopped abruptly and turned, crouching to meet the boy's gaze. "Not all songs are heard with the ears, child. Some must be felt with the heart and the soul. Perhaps, in time, you'll learn to listen."
Kael stepped between them, his expression hard. "Enough of your games. Just find the path."
Ashir rose with a nod, his eyes twinkling with something that might have been amusement. "As you wish, Flamebearer."
It wasn't long before the air around them began to change. The unnatural stillness gave way to faint tremors, and the horizon shimmered as though viewed through a sheet of rippling water. Ashir slowed, his steps deliberate as he raised his staff.
"We're close," he said. "The breach is here."
Kael scanned the area but saw nothing out of the ordinary—only more desolation. "Where?"
Ashir pointed to an empty stretch of ground ahead. "There. But crossing it requires more than sight. You must feel the Veil, reach out with your essence and let it guide you."
Nyxar snorted. "Essence? Guide us? This is absurd."
Ashir smirked. "You dragons may be creatures of power, but your strength alone will not suffice here. Trust me, or stay behind."
Kael sighed, his patience wearing thin. But something about Ashir's words resonated with him. Closing his eyes, he reached inward, focusing on the Flame. Its warmth flared in response, and he felt something—a faint pull, like a thread tugging at the edge of his consciousness.
"There," he said, pointing to the same spot Ashir had indicated. "I can feel it."
Nyxar grumbled but followed, his massive form looming protectively over Taren as they approached the breach.
Crossing the Veil was unlike anything Kael had experienced. One moment, they were stepping across barren stone; the next, they were weightless, suspended in a void that stretched endlessly in all directions. Colors swirled around them—violet, gold, crimson—blurring into streaks of light that danced and writhed like living beings.
Taren gasped, clutching Nyxar's tail as his feet left the ground. "What's happening?"
"We're in the Veil," Ashir said, his voice calm. "A place between places. Do not stray, or you will be lost."
Kael felt the Flame burning fiercely within him, its light pushing back against the disorienting void. But even with its warmth, he couldn't shake the feeling of insignificance. The Veil was vast and ancient, a place beyond mortal comprehension.
Ashir moved confidently, his staff glowing as he led them through the swirling currents. "Stay close. The fractured realms are just ahead."
When they emerged, the world was nothing like Kael had imagined. The fractured realms were a kaleidoscope of chaos—a patchwork of landscapes stitched together in jagged seams. One moment, they stood in a lush forest; the next, they were surrounded by towering cliffs of obsidian. The sky above was a tumultuous swirl of colors, and the ground beneath their feet felt unnervingly unstable.
"This is the fractured realms?" Nyxar growled, his wings flaring. "It looks like a world torn apart."
Ashir nodded solemnly. "It is. These lands were once whole, but the balance between Flame and Shadow was broken long ago. Now, they exist as fragments, each piece ruled by its own chaos."
Kael surveyed the surreal landscape, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "And this is where we'll find answers?"
Ashir's expression darkened. "Answers, yes. But also danger. The fractured realms are home to beings far older and more powerful than any you've faced. Tread carefully, Flamebearer, or you may not survive the truths you seek."