Elysara leaned heavily against the kitchen table, her frustration bubbling to the surface. The past few weeks had been a blur of salves, teas, and endless pleas for help, yet the sickness continued to claim more lives. The air inside the cottage felt stifling, as though even the walls bore witness to their futility.
"Grandmother," Elysara said, her voice strained, "we're not making a difference. No matter how many potions we brew or poultices we apply, people are still dying. The animals are dying. Everything is dying."
Aureth, standing by the window with a bundle of herbs in her hands, stilled. Her gaze shifted to the horizon, where the sun cast its fading golden light over the village. "You're right," she said solemnly, her voice heavy with unspoken truths. "We're only buying time."
Elysara frowned, her pulse quickening. "Then what's the point? If we can't stop this, if nothing we do changes anything, what are we even trying for?"
Aureth turned to face her, her expression unreadable. "There is a way," she said quietly.
Elysara blinked, caught off guard. "A way? To stop the Hunger?"
"Yes," Aureth replied, her tone cautious. "But it won't be easy. And it won't be without risks." She paused, her hands gripping the herbs tightly. "You will need to find the Veil bearer. She is the one with the power to stabilize the Veil and stop the Hunger from spreading further."
Elysara's brow furrowed. "The Veil bearer? How would I even find her? And why hasn't she done anything yet?"
Aureth studied her granddaughter for a moment, then turned and walked toward the far corner of the room. There, beneath the shelf where she kept the most delicate of her tools, sat the chest—the same one Elysara had seen many times before but had never dared to touch.
Without a word, Aureth knelt and opened the chest. Her movements were deliberate, almost reverent, as though she were handling something sacred. From within, she pulled out a leather-bound book, its cover worn with age. She held it out to Elysara.
"This," Aureth said softly, "was your mother's diary."
Elysara's breath caught as she stared at the book in her grandmother's hands. "My mother's?"
"Yes. She kept it during her years as a song bearer," Aureth explained. "Inside, she recorded everything—the rituals, the locations of others who played key roles in protecting the Veil, and, most importantly, details about the Veil bearer. It's the only map we have to find her."
Elysara hesitated before taking the diary. The leather felt smooth and cool under her fingertips, the weight of it both literal and symbolic. She opened it slowly, the scent of old parchment wafting up to meet her.
The handwriting was neat and deliberate, each line a window into her mother's world. The first page bore a simple inscription: To protect the Veil is to protect life itself.
"She wanted you to have this," Aureth said, her voice tinged with sadness. "I kept it hidden, waiting for the day you would need it. And now, that day has come."
Elysara flipped through the pages, her eyes scanning the words. There were sketches of symbols, detailed notes on rituals, and references to places she didn't recognize. The weight of responsibility pressed down on her, heavier than she had ever imagined.
"But how will I even find the Veil bearer?" she asked, her voice trembling. "What if she's… gone?"
Aureth's expression softened. "Then you must be prepared to face that truth. But if she remains, there is hope. The Veil bearer's power is tied to the Veil itself. She is the only one who can truly restore its strength. Without her, there can be no balance."
Elysara looked up at her grandmother, her grip on the diary tightening. "Why didn't you tell me any of this sooner?"
"Because I hoped it wouldn't come to this," Aureth admitted. "I hoped the Veil would hold, that the Hunger would remain a distant memory. But fate has a way of forcing our hands."
Elysara nodded, though her mind swirled with questions. She closed the diary and clutched it to her chest. "I'll do it," she said, her voice steady. "I'll find her. I'll stop this."
Aureth reached out and touched her granddaughter's cheek. "You are stronger than you know, Elysara. But remember, this journey will test you in ways you cannot yet imagine. Rest tonight. Gather your strength. Tomorrow, we will plan your path."
Before Elysara could respond, a loud knock sounded at the door, breaking the moment. The urgency in the knock sent a shiver down her spine.
Aureth moved swiftly to answer it, revealing a disheveled man on the other side. His face was pale, his breaths ragged. "Another one," he gasped. "At the edge of the forest. Please, come quickly."
Aureth exchanged a grim look with Elysara before grabbing her cloak. "We'll go together," she said firmly.
Elysara tucked the diary into her satchel and followed her grandmother out the door, the cold night air biting at her skin. The forest loomed ahead, dark and foreboding, as they rushed toward the next victim of the Hunger.