Soft morning sunlight streamed through the cottage windows as Elysara stepped into the kitchen. The familiar aroma of crushed herbs and simmering potions filled the air, though today it carried a weightier presence—a somber reminder of all she had learned the previous night. At the worktable, her grandmother, Aureth, worked with practiced precision, blending shimmering liquids with dried sprigs of herbs.
For a moment, Elysara simply watched her, the woman who had raised her with quiet strength, wisdom, and unflinching resolve. The questions swirled in her mind like a storm she could no longer ignore.
"Grandmother," Elysara began hesitantly, stepping closer, "can I ask you something about my parents?"
Aureth paused, setting down a mortar and pestle. She turned to Elysara, her expression calm but tinged with sadness. "Of course, child. What is on your heart?"
Elysara swallowed. "You said last night that they were song bearers. That they helped maintain the Veil. I want to know… what exactly did they do? How did they protect the Veil?"
Aureth's eyes softened as she motioned for Elysara to sit. She took a seat across from her granddaughter, clasping her weathered hands together.
"Their duty was not an easy one," Aureth began. "Song bearers were bound to the Veil, their lives intertwined with its magic. Every first day of the month, they would journey to the Veilspire Willow, the sacred tree where the Veil's power resides. It was a ritual that demanded great strength, both physical and magical."
Elysara leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. "What happened during the ritual?"
Aureth's gaze grew distant, as if she were seeing the events unfold before her. "The ritual began with chants—ancient words in the language of the old magic. The song bearers would form a circle around the tree, their voices harmonizing in a melody that called to the Veil itself. As they chanted, the Veilspire Willow would awaken."
Elysara shivered. "Awaken? What do you mean?"
"The tree is alive," Aureth said solemnly, "in ways that defy our understanding. Its branches move like serpents, reaching out to those who serve it. During the ritual, the branches would pick up each song bearer, one by one, and drain a small portion of their life essence. It was painful, but necessary. The Veil needed their energy to remain intact."
Elysara's stomach twisted. "And the Veil bearer?"
Aureth's voice lowered, a hint of awe creeping into her tone. "The Veil bearer's role was the most dangerous. While the song bearers were lifted and drained, the Veil bearer was taken by the largest branch, carried to the very top of the tree. There, they would become one with the Veil, their body glowing with its magic. The process was… otherworldly. The Veil bearer's essence fused with the tree itself, binding their soul to the kingdom's protection. It was said that, in that moment, they could feel everything—the pain, the joy, the magic of Eldoria—all coursing through them."
Elysara's eyes widened. "That sounds… unbearable. How did they survive it?"
Aureth shook her head. "Not all of them did. The ritual took a toll on the bearers, one that could not be undone. Some were broken by the experience, their minds unable to withstand the flood of magic and emotion. But your parents—they were strong. They endured."
Elysara's heart ached at the thought of her parents enduring such torment for the sake of the kingdom. "What else happened during the ritual?"
Aureth hesitated, her expression darkening. "There were… other things. The Veilspire Willow is not a passive entity. It is ancient, and it hungers. Sometimes, it would test the song bearers, pulling at their fears, their secrets. It would show them visions—fragments of their pasts, glimpses of their possible futures. If their resolve wavered, the tree would punish them, holding them in its grasp until they proved their worth."
Elysara shivered. "What kind of punishment?"
"Pain," Aureth said simply. "Pain unlike anything they had ever known. But it was not just physical. The tree could pierce into their minds, forcing them to confront their deepest regrets, their darkest desires. It was said that the tree's whispers could drive a weak soul to madness."
Elysara felt a chill run down her spine. "And my parents… they went through this every month?"
Aureth nodded. "For years. They gave everything they had to the Veil, to the kingdom. They believed it was their duty, their purpose."
Elysara sat back, her mind reeling. The weight of her parents' sacrifices pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe. She had always imagined them as ordinary people, living ordinary lives. But now she saw them as something far greater—and far more tragic.
"They must have been so brave," Elysara whispered.
"They were," Aureth said, her voice thick with emotion. "But bravery often comes at a cost. They paid with their lives."
Elysara's fists clenched. "Because of the assassins."
"Yes," Aureth confirmed. "The great priestess's assassins hunted them relentlessly. Your parents knew the risks, but they refused to stop the rituals. They knew that if the Veil fell, the kingdom would suffer."
Elysara looked down at her hands, her thoughts swirling. "And now the Veil is weakening again. The rituals aren't being done."
Aureth's expression hardened. "No, they are not. The song bearers have been scattered, hunted to near extinction. Without them, and without a Veil bearer to lead them, the kingdom is vulnerable."
Elysara swallowed hard, her mind racing with questions she couldn't yet voice. The Veilspire Willow, the rituals, the sacrifices—it all felt so overwhelming, so far removed from the life she had known. But one thing was clear: her parents had given everything to protect the Veil. And now, with the kingdom on the brink of collapse, she couldn't help but wonder what role she was meant to play in it all.
"There is much for you to process, and much we will need to discuss. But for now—"
A sharp knock at the door interrupted her words, followed by frantic shouting from outside. Aureth's face tightened as she and Elysara exchanged a glance. Without hesitation, they both hurried to the door.
Standing there was a man, his face pale and drenched in sweat, supporting another villager whose skin was marred with the telltale rash of the first stage. "Please," the man begged, his voice trembling. "She collapsed near the fields. It's spreading. She's burning up!"
Aureth wasted no time, motioning for them to bring the woman inside. "Lay her on the table," she instructed, her voice calm but firm. "Elysara, fetch the feverwort and cooling salve. Quickly now."