Caelum's mind spun, Elara's words striking him like a blow to the chest.
"The Veil… knows me?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
Elara nodded, her expression grave. "It's not just a force, Caelum. It's aware. The moment you touched that shard, you became a part of it. And now it'll come for you."
He shook his head, the weight of her revelation almost too much to bear. "But why? Why me?"
"Because you're different," she said. "You've always been different. The Veil… it consumes those who fail. But you? You're something else. You've connected with it in a way no one else has."
Caelum clenched his fist around the shard, its faint glow warming his palm. "If it's aware of me, if it's coming for me… then I need to understand it. I need to know what it wants."
"You don't understand what you're saying," Elara said, stepping closer. "The Veil isn't something you reason with. It's chaos. It's hunger. You saw what it did to the creature back there."
"Then tell me," Caelum said sharply. "You know more about this than I do. What is the Veil? What does it want?"
Elara hesitated, her gaze flicking to the shard in his hand. "The Veil is… it's older than Cindrelle, older than the magic we use. It's not just a punishment for the Sparkless—it's a prison. A place where ancient magic was bound to protect the city. But over the centuries, that magic has grown restless. It doesn't just wait for its prisoners anymore. It reaches out. It hunts."
Caelum's breath caught. "And now it's hunting me."
Elara nodded. "The shard you carry—it's part of the Heart of the Veil. It's what binds the magic, keeps it contained. But by touching it, you've disrupted that balance. The Veil sees you as a threat."
"Then what do I do?" Caelum asked, his voice rising with frustration. "Throw it away? Run? Hide?"
"No," Elara said firmly. "If you give it up now, the Veil will still come for you. The only way forward is through."
"Through?"
She took a deep breath. "There's a way to control it. To harness the shard's power. But it's dangerous. And it's not something I can teach you here."
"Then where?"
Elara glanced over her shoulder, as though expecting the shadows to move. "There's a place beyond the city, deep in the Whispering Expanse. The old texts call it the Cradle of Echoes. It's where the Veil was first created, where the Heart was fractured into shards like the one you carry. If there's any hope of understanding the power you've awakened, it's there."
"The Cradle of Echoes…" Caelum repeated, the name ringing ominously in his ears.
Elara nodded. "It's not an easy journey. The Expanse is treacherous, and the Veil will try to stop you. But if you don't go, the shard's power will consume you. Or worse, the Veil will."
A cold wind swept through the ravine, carrying with it a faint, eerie whisper. Caelum's skin prickled, and he realized just how exposed they were.
"How do you know all this?" he asked, his voice low.
Elara hesitated, her eyes darting to the ground. "Because I've been there," she admitted. "I've seen what the Veil is capable of. I barely escaped with my life. And if you're not ready…" She trailed off, the unspoken warning hanging heavily between them.
"I don't have a choice," Caelum said. "If the Veil is coming for me, I can't just sit and wait for it to take me. I have to fight."
Elara studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Then we leave tonight. The longer we stay in one place, the more vulnerable we are."
Caelum glanced back the way he'd come, the faint glow of Cindrelle's lights barely visible through the mist. For a brief moment, he felt a pang of longing for the life he'd known, the simplicity of a world where his only fear was being cast out for his Sparkless nature. But that life was gone now.
The path ahead was dark and uncertain, but it was the only path left.
"Let's go," he said, determination hardening his voice.
Elara gave a curt nod, and together they set off into the shadows, the shard's faint glow lighting their way.
But as they walked, Caelum couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. The air felt heavy, the silence oppressive. Somewhere, deep within the Veil, something stirred.
It was coming.