Alara's hand trembled as she held the Veilglass to her eye. Through its jagged surface, the world above appeared fractured and dim, as though the Eternal Day had burned away all that was vibrant and alive. But below—below was a different story.
For the first time, she saw the Abyss not as a pit of endless black, but as a shifting mosaic of impossible colors, twisting and weaving like smoke caught in a silent wind. Shadows danced within, forming shapes that almost resembled faces before melting away.
"It's alive," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her pounding heart.
"Yes," came a voice from the dark. Not Kian's voice. Not hers. Something… else.
She spun around, clutching the Veilglass like a lifeline. The whisper had been soft, intimate, as though spoken directly into her thoughts. But when she looked, there was nothing. Only the yawning mouth of the Abyss and the faint hum of the Veilglass in her hand.
"You're imagining things," she told herself, though the words felt hollow.
As she turned to climb back up, a flicker of light caught her eye. It was faint, barely distinguishable from the shimmering air around it, but it was there—a figure, small and fleeting, standing far below.
"Kian?"
Her voice cracked, and she didn't wait for an answer. Before she realized what she was doing, her feet carried her forward, over the crumbling edge of the Abyss, and into the unknown.