The lights of Ashenfall flickered faintly in the distance, but the encounter at the bridge had left Kaelith uneasy. She glanced at Eryndor, who hadn't said a word since the shadow vanished. His cursed arm still pulsed faintly, the blue fire barely visible beneath his sleeve.
"You're thinking about what it said," Kaelith guessed, breaking the silence.
Eryndor didn't look at her. His eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead. "I can't ignore it. If that thing mentioned a dragon, then it's tied to the veil somehow."
Kaelith frowned. "Wraiths, shadow creatures, and now dragons. You know, this was supposed to be a simple relic hunt. What are we walking into?"
Eryndor didn't answer right away. The closer they got to Ashenfall, the heavier the air seemed to feel. It wasn't just magic—it was something older. Ancient.
Finally, Eryndor spoke. "Whatever's coming… it's bigger than either of us. And I don't think Ashenfall's ready for it."
As they approached the outer gates, two guards stepped forward, torches in hand. Their eyes flicked to Eryndor's sword and Kaelith's dagger, but they didn't stop them. Travelers weren't uncommon, even at this hour.
"State your business," one of the guards called.
Eryndor kept his voice calm. "We're here to meet someone. A scholar named Veylin."
The guard exchanged glances with his partner. "Veylin doesn't take visitors often. What's your business with him?"
Eryndor hesitated. "He owes me a favor."
That wasn't entirely true, but it wasn't a lie either. Veylin was one of the few people in Ashenfall who knew more about ancient relics and the veil than Eryndor did. If anyone had answers, it was him.
The guard studied Eryndor for a moment longer, then nodded toward the gate. "Try the archives. He practically lives there."
Eryndor gave a curt nod. "Thank you."
As they passed through the gate, Kaelith smirked. "Owes you a favor? You're getting good at lying."
Eryndor glanced at her. "Veylin and I have a history. Let's leave it at that."
The streets of Ashenfall were quieter than usual, but it wasn't the peaceful kind of quiet. Windows were shuttered, and few lanterns burned along the main road.
Kaelith noticed it too. "Feels like people are expecting something bad to happen."
"They might be."
They moved quickly through the winding streets, heading toward the eastern side of the city where the archives sat perched atop a small hill. The building was old—older than most of Ashenfall—constructed from black stone that shimmered faintly under the moonlight.
Eryndor pushed open the heavy wooden doors, and the faint smell of parchment and dust greeted them. Inside, rows of tall shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, each crammed with scrolls and books. A single lantern flickered at the far end of the room.
Veylin sat hunched over a desk, his long silver hair tied back, eyes scanning an ancient scroll. He didn't look up when they entered.
"I was wondering when you'd show up," Veylin said, his voice dry.
Kaelith raised an eyebrow. "He's good."
Eryndor stepped forward. "You know why we're here?"
Veylin finally lifted his gaze, his sharp green eyes locking onto Eryndor's cursed arm. "I heard the veil stirred near the southern woods. If you're here, I assume you had something to do with it."
Eryndor nodded. "We released a wraith from an old relic. But before it vanished, it mentioned something… about a dragon."
Veylin's expression hardened. He rose from his chair, walking toward one of the nearby shelves. His fingers traced along the spines of several old tomes until he pulled one free.
"I was afraid of this," Veylin said, placing the book on the table and opening it to a faded illustration.
Kaelith leaned over, squinting at the image. It showed a great serpent-like dragon, coiled around a stone spire, its eyes burning with red fire.
"The Dragon of Ashenfall," Veylin said grimly. "Sealed beneath the capital over two centuries ago. The old kings believed it was tied to the veil—a guardian, but also a destroyer. If the veil weakens enough… it will wake."
Eryndor's eyes narrowed. "And if it wakes?"
Veylin met his gaze. "Then Ashenfall burns."
Kaelith exhaled. "Fantastic. So we're sitting on a giant magical time bomb."
Veylin's gaze shifted to Eryndor's arm. "The flame you carry—that's no ordinary curse. It's part of the seal keeping the dragon bound. If something comes for you, it's because the dragon stirs."
Eryndor frowned. "Why now? The relic broke, but the veil's been weakening for years."
Veylin's expression darkened. "I don't know. But I do know this—whatever broke that relic was deliberate. Someone is trying to wake the dragon."
Kaelith's eyes widened. "Wait. You're saying someone wants to unleash that thing?"
Veylin nodded gravely. "And if they succeed, the veil will collapse entirely."
Eryndor felt the weight of Veylin's words settle over him like a heavy cloak.
"So," Eryndor said quietly. "Where do we start?"
Veylin closed the book slowly. "You start by finding the next relic. There are three left, and if even one falls…"
Kaelith crossed her arms. "Then we've got a long night ahead of us."
Eryndor's cursed arm flared once more, and this time, he didn't try to hide it.
"We're running out of time," he said. "Let's move."