The dawn brought no comfort. The sun was pale, its light muted by the heavy clouds that stretched across the horizon. The forest that had once sheltered Aric and Kael now seemed far behind them, the trees giving way to barren plains of cracked earth and blackened stone.
Aric stood at the edge of this desolate expanse, the Ashen Wastes, and felt his heart sink. Nothing lived here. No trees, no grass, not even the faintest rustle of wind. It was as though the land itself had given up. The soil was gray, scorched by some long-forgotten calamity, and the air was dry and acrid, thick with the scent of ash.
"We'll cross this?" Aric asked, his voice thin as he adjusted the satchel holding the veil.
Selene stood beside him, her crimson cloak snapping faintly in the still air. "It is the only path to the Sanctum of Ylthea. The Shadowborn cannot pass through the Wastes easily—but that does not mean we are safe."
Kael joined them, his face grim as he scanned the horizon. "I don't like this. Too open. Too quiet. Feels like a trap."
Selene gave him a faint smile. "It always does."
Kael shot her a glare but said nothing further. Instead, he stepped past her and motioned for Aric to follow. "We move quickly. Stay close and keep your eyes open. There's no cover out here, so if something finds us, we'll see it coming."
"Not exactly reassuring," Aric muttered, but he fell into step behind Kael, with Selene trailing a few paces behind.
The Wastes were worse than Aric had imagined. The cracked ground crumbled underfoot, releasing small puffs of dust with every step. The sun burned higher, its light strangely lifeless, giving the land an almost ghostly pallor. Sweat dripped down Aric's neck, and his mouth grew dry despite the waterskin Kael had given him earlier.
Hours passed, marked only by the rhythmic crunch of their boots on dead soil. Selene said little, her golden eyes fixed on the horizon as though she saw something Aric couldn't. Kael was silent as well, his senses sharp, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger.
Aric's thoughts drifted to the veil. It was quiet now, nestled within the satchel, but he could still feel it—a faint hum of power, like a heartbeat thrumming beneath his fingertips. The memory of the shrine's light, of the raw force that had surged through him, sent a shiver down his spine.
How am I supposed to control something like this? he wondered.
"Aric," Kael said suddenly, breaking the silence. "Stop."
Aric froze, his gaze snapping to Kael, who was crouched low, staring at the ground ahead. Selene halted as well, her expression unreadable as she waited.
"What is it?" Aric asked softly.
Kael pointed to a cluster of rocks a few yards ahead. At first glance, they seemed unremarkable—dark, jagged stones half-buried in the ashen soil. But as Aric looked closer, he saw it: the faint shimmer of something shifting around them. The air rippled, almost like heat rising off a flame.
"An illusion," Selene said quietly, stepping forward. "A ward placed here to deceive."
Kael rose, his expression wary. "Whose illusion?"
Selene ignored him, raising a hand toward the rocks. Her fingers traced a slow, deliberate pattern in the air, and Aric felt a faint tremor underfoot. The rippling grew more pronounced, spreading outward like ripples in a pond.
With a sudden snap, the illusion shattered. The rocks were gone, replaced by the broken remains of a wagon. Splintered wood and shattered wheels lay scattered across the ground, and nearby, half-buried in the ash, was something far worse: bones.
Aric's stomach turned. The skeletons were small—human—but twisted, their limbs unnaturally bent.
"What happened here?" he whispered.
"An ambush," Selene replied, her voice low. "These travelers fell prey to something that stalks the Wastes."
Kael swore under his breath, crouching to inspect the remains. "This isn't the Shadowborn's work. Something else killed them—something that feeds."
Aric swallowed hard, feeling the dry air catch in his throat. "Feeds?"
Kael looked up at him, his eyes hard. "Wraiths."
Selene gave a slow nod. "The Wraiths are spirits born of the Wastes—fragments of souls lost in the world's collapse. They hunger for life, for warmth, and they will strip the flesh from your bones if you linger too long."
Aric stared at the bones, the ash dusting their surface like fine snow. "How do we stop them?"
"You don't," Kael said, rising. "You run."
A low, hollow sound echoed across the plains—a wail that sent ice through Aric's veins. It came from everywhere at once, as though the Wastes themselves were screaming.
"They know we're here," Selene said sharply, her golden eyes flashing. "We need to move."
Kael didn't wait. He grabbed Aric's arm, pulling him forward as he broke into a run. Aric stumbled, nearly falling, but he forced his legs to move. Selene ran behind them, her cloak trailing like a shadow.
The wail rose again, louder this time, and Aric felt it reverberate through his chest. The air grew colder, and he saw them—shifting shapes emerging from the ground itself.
Wraiths.
They rose like smoke, formless but hungry, their hollow eyes fixed on the fleeing trio. Their movements were unnatural—gliding, twitching, jerking toward them with terrifying speed.
"Faster!" Kael barked, loosing an arrow at the nearest wraith. The shaft passed through it, leaving the creature untouched.
"They're not solid!" Aric shouted.
"They don't need to be!" Kael shot back. "Just run!"
Aric's breath came in ragged gasps as the ground blurred beneath his feet. The wraiths were closing in, their cold presence clawing at his back. He felt the veil shift in the satchel, as though responding to the danger.
The veil…
Selene's voice rang out over the chaos. "Aric! Use it!"
"What? How?" Aric cried.
"Focus on its light!" she shouted. "Call it forth!"
Aric nearly tripped, his chest burning as he fought to keep running. The wraiths were so close now, he could feel the icy pull of their hunger, the life being drawn from him. He tore the satchel open and gripped the veil, its silver threads cool against his skin.
"Please," Aric whispered, his voice trembling. "Help us."
The veil pulsed.
Light erupted from its surface, blinding in its brilliance. Aric cried out as the magic surged through him, searing and overwhelming. The wraiths shrieked, recoiling from the light as though burned. Their forms twisted, fraying at the edges before disintegrating into smoke.
Aric fell to his knees, clutching the veil as the last wraith vanished. The light dimmed, fading back into the fabric's silver shimmer.
Kael and Selene were at his side in an instant.
"You did it," Kael said, his voice full of disbelief.
Aric looked up at him, his face pale and drenched in sweat. "I don't even know what I did."
Selene knelt before him, her golden eyes soft. "The veil responded to your will. You called its power—briefly, but effectively. This is how it begins."
Aric looked down at the veil in his hands, its threads still faintly warm. "It feels… alive."
"It is," Selene said. "And it is waking, Aric. But you must be careful. The veil is as dangerous as it is powerful. Use it recklessly, and it will consume you."
Aric nodded weakly, his body trembling. The memory of the power—so vast, so unrelenting—still pulsed in his veins.
Kael helped him to his feet, his expression grim. "We can't stop here. The Wraiths are only the beginning. We need to keep moving."
Aric slung the satchel over his shoulder and looked toward the horizon. The Ashen Wastes stretched endlessly before them, but somewhere beyond that bleak expanse was the Sanctum of Ylthea—their only hope of sealing the Shadowborn's gates.
"Let's go," Aric said softly.
Together, they pressed on, the veil's power humming faintly in Aric's hands and the shadow of the Wastes looming all around them.
The sun had nearly vanished, a smudge of crimson on the ash-gray horizon, when Aric first saw the city. Its outline loomed against the twilight like the skeleton of some vast beast. Towering spires, once proud and majestic, jutted out from the landscape like broken teeth. Crumbling walls stretched across the Wastes, their surfaces marred by cracks and age.
"Is that…" Aric trailed off, his voice low.
"The city of Vareth," Selene said quietly. "Once, it was the jewel of Eldara—a place where scholars, mages, and kings came together to shape the world. Now, it is nothing but a graveyard."
Kael snorted, pulling his cloak tighter against the sudden chill. "A graveyard that's likely not empty. This place reeks of trouble."
Selene ignored his cynicism, her golden eyes fixed on the city's broken gates. "We'll need to rest soon. The Wraiths won't pursue us here—not yet—but other dangers linger. Vareth will provide shelter."
"Shelter?" Kael barked a humorless laugh. "You mean deathtrap."
"We have no choice," Selene replied firmly. "The veil's power needs time to recover. Aric does, too."
At the mention of his name, Aric shifted uncomfortably. He still felt the lingering weight of the veil's magic pressing on his chest—a cold reminder of the power he'd called forth earlier. The light had saved their lives, but the memory of it was overwhelming. It hadn't felt like something he controlled—it had felt like something using him.
"You trust this city?" Aric asked, his voice tentative.
Selene turned to him, her crimson cloak catching in the evening wind. "No, Aric. But I trust the veil, and it has led us here."
That was enough for now.
The gates of Vareth loomed higher as they approached, flanked by weathered statues of warriors that had been worn down to shadowy silhouettes. Deep fissures spiderwebbed through the stone, and the city's crest—a sun flanked by open hands—had faded into obscurity.
Kael walked ahead, his bow in hand, eyes scanning every shadow. "Keep close, both of you. If anything moves, we leave."
The inside of Vareth was worse than Aric expected. Streets paved with cracked marble stretched out before them, littered with the remnants of a bygone era—shattered carts, broken pottery, faded banners that fluttered weakly in the breeze. Buildings leaned precariously against one another, their walls scarred and hollow.
The silence was suffocating. There were no birds, no wind, no life—only the sound of their footsteps echoing too loudly against the stones.
"What happened here?" Aric whispered, his voice swallowed by the gloom.
Selene paused, her eyes scanning the empty streets. "The same thing that happened to the rest of Eldara when the Shadowborn first rose. Vareth fell in a single night. Its people, its history—all consumed. Some say the city's heart still beats beneath the ruins, cursed and forgotten."
Kael shot her a dark look. "I didn't sign up for ghost stories."
Selene offered no response, but Aric noticed her fingers twitch, as though brushing the edge of some unseen magic.
They moved deeper into the city, winding their way through alleys and under arches. At last, they came upon a courtyard. In its center sat an ancient fountain, now dry and crumbling.
"This will do," Kael said, setting his pack down near the base of the fountain. "We'll camp here for the night. There's enough cover to keep us hidden, and I'll take first watch."
Selene gave a slight nod. "Very well. But keep the fire small."
As Kael worked to build the fire, Aric sank down onto a smooth stone slab. His muscles ached, his head throbbed, and the satchel containing the veil weighed on him like lead. He pulled the satchel into his lap, staring at it with a mix of reverence and unease.
"You should rest," Selene said softly, sitting beside him. "Your body is still recovering."
"I don't think I can," Aric admitted. "Not after… everything."
Selene regarded him, her golden eyes thoughtful. "You fear the veil's power."
"I don't understand it," Aric corrected, his voice trembling slightly. "It felt like it was alive—like it was pulling something out of me."
Selene tilted her head, her face calm but serious. "The veil does not take, Aric. It reveals. It is a conduit—an ancient fragment of the forces that shaped Eldara. When you called on it, it answered. But power like that is never gentle."
Aric looked down at the satchel, his fingers brushing the fabric. "What if I can't control it? What if it consumes me?"
Selene's voice dropped to a whisper, as though she were sharing a forbidden secret. "That is why the veil chose you. Because it sensed the strength you do not yet see in yourself. You are afraid now, but in time, you will understand."
Aric frowned, her words giving him little comfort. "And if I fail?"
Selene's gaze sharpened. "Then we all fall with you."
The fire crackled faintly, and Kael's voice broke the silence. "Someone's coming."
Aric jerked to his feet, his heart racing. Kael was already on edge, his bow drawn as he stared into the darkness beyond the courtyard.
Selene rose gracefully, her hand hovering near the dagger at her belt. "Show yourself," she called into the night, her voice carrying an undeniable authority.
The shadows shifted. At first, Aric thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, but then he saw them: figures emerging from the alleys, their movements slow and deliberate. Their forms were human but wrong—skin pale, eyes empty, and their mouths twisted into grimaces of pain.
"Shadow-touched," Kael muttered, his voice tight.
Selene's expression darkened. "The remnants of Vareth's people. They've been bound to this place, their souls corrupted by the Shadowborn's curse."
Aric backed up, his hands trembling as the figures grew closer. There were dozens of them now, their steps soundless, their eyes fixed on the group.
"What do we do?" Aric whispered.
"Hold your ground," Kael ordered, loosing an arrow into the nearest figure. The shaft struck true, but the creature barely staggered, its empty eyes turning toward him.
"They don't die easily," Selene said sharply. "Aric, the veil!"
"No," Aric gasped, shaking his head. "I—I don't know how!"
"You must try!" Selene shouted, drawing her dagger.
The shadow-touched surged forward. Kael and Selene met them head-on, Kael's arrows flying and Selene weaving through the chaos like a crimson flame. But there were too many. Aric stumbled back, clutching the satchel as fear gripped him.
The whispers began again—soft, insistent, growing louder as the shadow-touched closed in. The veil's power surged, reaching for him, demanding to be used.
"Help me!" Aric cried, tearing the veil free from the satchel.
The fabric flared to life, light bursting forth and driving back the encroaching darkness. Aric felt the magic flood him—wild, unrelenting, a storm raging within his chest. He raised the veil, and its power erupted in a wave of blinding radiance.
The shadow-touched screamed as the light struck them, their forms unraveling like smoke caught in a gale. The darkness shrank, clawing away from the veil's brilliance until the courtyard fell silent once more.
Aric collapsed to his knees, gasping for breath. The veil hung limp in his hands, its light fading.
Kael and Selene were at his side, both staring at him in astonishment.
"You did it," Kael said, his voice rough. "Again."
Selene knelt beside Aric, her golden eyes searching his. "You're learning," she said softly. "But you must be careful, Aric. The veil's power is vast, but it will test you every time you use it."
Aric nodded weakly, his body trembling with exhaustion. "How much longer… can I do this?"
Selene's gaze darkened, her voice somber. "Long enough to save Eldara—or lose yourself trying."
The fire burned low in the courtyard, and the ruins of Vareth loomed all around them. Aric clutched the veil to his chest, its threads warm and alive beneath his touch. He had survived, but the cost was growing clearer with every step.
And somewhere in the darkness beyond the city, the Shadowborn were waiting.