The fires of Greywater Hold flickered against the thick curtain of mist that rolled across the marshland. Aric sat on a broken stone wall at the edge of the camp, gazing into the distance as the faint hum of conversations reached his ears. The people here—the outcasts, the survivors—were hardened, weary, and wary of hope.
Selene was right: rallying them would not be easy.
He could see groups of fighters sharpening weapons, others sharing meager meals, and some simply sitting in silence, staring into the fire. These people had been fighting for scraps of survival for too long. Asking them to take up arms again—against an enemy as powerful as the Wardens—was a gamble most of them would refuse.
"Thinking too much again?"
Aric turned to find Kael approaching, his bow slung across his back. The hunter's wry smile was faint, but his eyes were sharp as ever.
"I'm trying to figure out how to convince them," Aric said, gesturing to the camp. "How do you give hope to people who've lost everything?"
Kael shrugged, leaning against the wall. "You don't give them hope. You show them a reason to fight. If you're looking for pretty speeches, you're better off leaving that to Selene."
"Selene's been quiet," Aric said, glancing toward the main tent where she and Garric were likely deep in conversation. "Do you think Garric will help?"
Kael exhaled, his expression darkening. "I think Garric's seen enough people die under his command to make him wary of another battle. He'll fight, eventually, but he won't force anyone else to. It's up to you to convince the others."
Aric frowned. "And how do I do that?"
Kael tilted his head. "The same way you've gotten this far—by surviving. Show them what you can do, Aric. If they see the Wardens' greatest weapon standing on their side, maybe they'll believe they can win."
Aric glanced down at his hands. Since the encounter with the wraith-touched man, the veil had been quieter, but it was never truly gone. The power inside him was unpredictable, dangerous. He didn't trust it—and he wasn't sure anyone else would either.
But Kael's words stuck with him.
"Show them."
Doubt and Fire
That night, Garric called the people of Greywater Hold together in the courtyard. Braziers lit the space, casting long shadows on the walls and illuminating the faces of the ragged, weary fighters. Selene stood near Garric, her posture firm but her expression cautious. Kael hovered at the edges of the crowd, his bow at the ready, as if expecting trouble.
Aric stood at the center, his heart hammering in his chest as dozens of eyes stared at him. Some were curious, others suspicious, and more than a few were outright hostile.
"Listen up!" Garric's gravelly voice boomed across the courtyard, silencing the crowd. "Selene brought this boy here for a reason. He's the one the Wardens are hunting—the one with the power they fear."
Low murmurs rippled through the crowd, but Garric raised a hand for silence.
"Now, I don't trust easy," he continued, his single eye fixed on Aric. "And I don't expect you to either. But the Wardens are tightening their grip on this world. You've all seen it. You've all felt it. This boy says he wants to fight back—says he wants to give us a chance to strike at the heart of our enemy."
Garric turned to Aric, his expression hard. "So tell them, boy. Tell them why they should follow you."
Aric swallowed, stepping forward. The weight of their stares pressed against him like a storm.
"My name is Aric," he began, his voice steady despite the knot in his throat. "I didn't ask for this power. I didn't want to be hunted. But I am hunted—by the Wardens, by the Shadowborn, and by whatever darkness they've unleashed on this world."
His eyes swept the crowd, his fists clenched at his sides. "I've seen what they can do. They destroyed my home. They killed people I cared about. And they'll keep going until there's nothing left—no safe places, no freedom, no you."
The murmurs grew louder, anger bubbling beneath the surface.
"I'm not asking you to fight for me," Aric continued, his voice rising. "I'm asking you to fight for yourselves. For your homes, for your families, for a world where we're not afraid to live."
He hesitated, his heart pounding. Then, taking a deep breath, he said, "I know what you think of me. You think I'm dangerous. You're right. I don't fully understand this power yet. But I'm going to use it to stop the Wardens—and if you stand with me, we can stop them together."
Silence followed his words, the weight of his declaration hanging in the air.
Finally, a voice called from the crowd—gruff, skeptical. "And what if you lose control? What happens to us then?"
Aric turned toward the speaker—an older man with a scarred face and bitter eyes.
"You're right to be afraid," Aric admitted. "I am afraid. But if we do nothing, the Wardens will destroy us anyway. Fighting back is the only chance we have."
The man snorted, shaking his head. "Words. That's all they are."
Before Aric could reply, Selene stepped forward. "Then let him show you."
The crowd turned to her, murmuring in confusion. Aric glanced at her sharply. "Selene—"
"You want them to believe in you?" Selene interrupted, her gaze steady. "Show them what you can do."
Aric hesitated, the whispers of the veil stirring faintly inside him. He clenched his fists, trying to suppress the cold wave of doubt that washed over him. What if he did lose control? What if he hurt someone?
But as he looked at the faces around him—hard, doubtful, yet desperate for something to believe in—he knew Kael and Selene were right.
They had to see.
"Stand back," he said quietly, his voice firm.
The crowd shifted, people stepping away as Aric moved to the center of the courtyard. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he reached for the veil.
The whispers rushed to greet him, eager and hungry.
"Yes… let us free…"
Aric gritted his teeth, focusing. He wasn't going to let the veil control him. He was in charge.
The air around him grew cold, the braziers flickering as shadows began to coil around his feet like living smoke. Gasps rose from the crowd as the darkness spread outward, swirling around him in an eerie dance.
And then—light.
Bright, blinding light burst from Aric's hands, spiraling into the darkness and weaving through it like golden threads. The shadows twisted and writhed, but Aric held firm, forcing them into submission. The energy rippled outward, filling the courtyard with light and shadow in perfect harmony.
The crowd stared in awe as the veil's power surrounded Aric—not as a chaotic force, but as something controlled, something commanded.
Finally, Aric let the energy fade, the light dissipating and the shadows retreating into the earth. The courtyard was silent, save for the crackle of the fires.
Aric turned to the crowd, his voice steady. "The Wardens don't own this power. I do. And I'll use it to stop them."
For a long moment, no one spoke. Then, from somewhere in the back, a voice called out:
"I'll fight."
Another voice joined in. "Me too."
More followed, the murmurs of doubt turning into a chorus of resolve.
Garric stepped forward, his single eye fixed on Aric. For the first time, there was a glimmer of approval in his gaze. "You've got their attention, boy. Let's see if you can keep it."
Aric nodded, his heart still pounding in his chest. He knew this was only the beginning, but for the first time, he felt something new—something powerful.
Hope.
The quiet that followed the rallying cries of Greywater Hold was brief. Aric had spent hours talking to those who pledged themselves, answering their questions and allaying their fears. Though Selene, Kael, and Garric helped organize the fighters, the burden of leadership weighed heavily on him. He hadn't come here to be a symbol, yet that's exactly what he had become.
Now, in the dead of night, the fires of the camp burned low. Aric sat near the edge of the hold, watching the mist shift like silent waves in the dark. He couldn't sleep—his mind churned with the faces of those who had stepped forward, with the weight of their belief in him.
"You'll get them killed," a voice whispered in his head. The veil. Its presence slithered along the edges of his thoughts, pressing like a cold hand against his skull.
"I'll prove you wrong," Aric murmured to himself, staring into the dark.
The shadows beyond the gate shifted. At first, Aric thought it was the mist playing tricks on him—but then he saw it again. A faint flicker of movement. A silhouette, black against black.
He tensed, rising to his feet. "Selene," he called softly over his shoulder.
Selene was by his side in an instant, her hand on the hilt of her sword. "What is it?"
"Something's out there," Aric said, pointing to the mist.
Kael appeared next, silent as always, an arrow already nocked. "Scouts?"
Selene shook her head. "No. The Wardens wouldn't risk sending just scouts this deep into the marsh."
Aric's pulse quickened. He could feel it—the air had shifted. Something was wrong.
Then it came. A low, droning sound that made the hairs on the back of Aric's neck stand on end. It started as a murmur but grew louder, echoing across the marsh like the voice of a thousand wraiths.
"Wake the camp," Selene ordered, her voice low and urgent. "Now."
Kael nodded and disappeared into the shadows, moving like a phantom as he roused the fighters. Garric stormed into view moments later, his massive sword in hand.
"What in the hells is that?" Garric growled as the sound grew louder.
Aric didn't have an answer. The mist around the hold began to swirl, coiling like living tendrils. Shapes moved within it—dozens, maybe hundreds of dark silhouettes, advancing toward the gates with silent purpose.
And then he felt it.
The veil.
It pulsed in the air, stronger than ever, like a storm brewing just out of sight. Aric staggered as the whispers in his mind roared to life.
"They are here. They have come for you."
"Wardens," Aric whispered, his voice hollow.
The first attack came without warning. From the mist, black arrows streaked through the air, striking the wooden palisade with a dull thud. One hit a guard on the wall, piercing through his chest. He fell without a sound.
"TO ARMS!" Garric bellowed.
The camp erupted into motion. Fighters scrambled for weapons, shields were raised, and a dozen archers rushed to the walls, loosing arrows blindly into the swirling mist.
Selene drew her sword, her face set with grim determination. "This isn't a raid. They're here to wipe us out."
Aric's heart pounded in his chest. He could feel the enemy closing in. The Wardens were using the veil—they were twisting the mist, controlling it like a living weapon.
The gates groaned suddenly under pressure, a loud BOOM echoing through the hold as something massive struck them.
"They've got a ram," Kael said, appearing at Aric's side, his face pale but resolute.
Garric cursed, swinging his sword toward a group of fighters. "Defend the gate! Archers, focus fire on the mist—look for movement!"
"Aric," Selene said sharply, turning to him. "We need you."
Aric looked at her, his breath quick and shallow. "I don't know if I can control it."
"You can," she said, gripping his shoulder tightly. "You're stronger than you think. Use the veil. Show them why the Wardens fear you."
Aric swallowed hard, his hands trembling. The veil whispered to him, hungry and eager. It wanted to be used. It wanted him to let go.
"Don't lose yourself," he muttered, more to himself than to anyone else.
And then he stepped forward.
The Power Unleashed
The gates shook again under the ram, the wood splintering as the Wardens pressed their attack. Shadows moved in the mist beyond, advancing relentlessly. Arrows flew back and forth, and the defenders of Greywater fought desperately to hold their ground.
Aric stood at the center of the courtyard, closing his eyes as he reached inward. The veil responded instantly, a surge of icy power rushing through his veins.
"Yes," the whispers hissed. "Unleash us."
Aric opened his eyes, and the world seemed to slow. The sounds of the battle faded, replaced by the dull roar of the veil. He raised his hands, and the shadows answered his call.
Darkness burst from him, rippling across the ground like a living wave. The mist recoiled as the shadows collided with it, shattering the Wardens' control. Screams rang out from the other side of the gate as the darkness struck, wrapping around unseen foes and dragging them down.
"By the gods," Kael breathed, his eyes wide as he watched.
The fighters of Greywater turned to stare as the shadows spread outward, forming a barrier of darkness around the hold. Aric stood at the center of it all, his body trembling with the effort of control. The veil surged within him, pushing against his mind, begging to be set free.
"More," it whispered. "Let us consume them."
Aric gritted his teeth. "No. I won't let you."
He raised his hands again, focusing on the mist outside. The darkness pulsed once more, lashing out at the enemy forces. He could feel the Wardens' power weakening as his own pressed back, forcing them to retreat.
But then—
A sharp, splitting pain struck Aric's skull. He staggered, the shadows faltering. The whispers in his head roared louder, drowning out everything else.
"You are ours."
"Aric!" Selene's voice cut through the chaos.
Aric gasped, forcing himself to focus. He could see the Wardens retreating, their forces pulling back into the mist. The gate groaned, the pressure on it suddenly easing.
The attack was ending. They were falling back.
With a final effort, Aric released his hold on the veil. The shadows sank back into the earth, and the mist began to clear.
The courtyard fell silent once more.
Aric collapsed to his knees, his body shaking. Selene and Kael rushed to his side, but he barely heard them. His vision swam, and the whispers of the veil faded into a low murmur.
"Did we…?" Aric managed to whisper.
Selene nodded, her face pale but determined. "They're gone—for now."
Garric approached, his expression grim. "You saved us, boy. But they'll be back. They know you're here."
Aric looked up, his breath ragged. "Then we'll be ready."
As he said the words, he wasn't sure who he was trying to convince—them or himself.