The darkness of the Whispering Expanse was unlike anything Caelum had ever experienced. It pressed against him, thick and suffocating, as if the shadows themselves were alive, watching his every step.
Elara led the way, her blade drawn, its faint silver sheen catching the dim light of the shard in Caelum's hand. Each step they took seemed to echo endlessly, the sound swallowed by the oppressive silence.
"Why is it so quiet?" Caelum whispered, breaking the stillness.
Elara didn't look back. "The Expanse isn't like the city. There's no life here—not anymore. The Veil's influence is strongest in this place."
"Strongest?"
She nodded, her voice low. "The Cradle of Echoes lies at the heart of the Veil's domain. The closer we get, the more dangerous it becomes. We'll start to see its manifestations soon."
"Manifestations?"
"Spirits, shadows, fragments of those it has taken," she said. "They're drawn to the shard you carry. To them, it's a beacon."
Caelum tightened his grip on the shard, its glow pulsing faintly in response. The thought of being followed by spirits sent a shiver down his spine.
"Why would anyone build the Veil here?" he asked, trying to distract himself from the rising fear.
Elara hesitated. "It wasn't always like this. The Expanse was once a place of great power—a sanctuary for mages and scholars. They believed they could harness the magic here, use it to protect the city. But they didn't understand what they were dealing with. The Veil… it was meant to contain the chaos. Instead, it became chaos itself."
As she spoke, a low, mournful wail drifted through the air, faint but unmistakable. Caelum froze, his heart pounding in his chest.
"What was that?" he whispered.
Elara didn't answer immediately. She scanned the darkness, her blade shifting slightly in her grip. "Keep moving," she said finally, her tone tense.
Caelum swallowed hard and followed, his senses on high alert. The shard in his hand grew warmer, its light intensifying.
Another sound echoed through the Expanse, closer this time—a faint rustling, like dry leaves brushing against stone. Caelum's breath hitched.
"Don't stop," Elara said sharply, her pace quickening. "And whatever you do, don't look back."
Caelum's instincts screamed at him to turn, to see what was behind them, but he forced himself to focus on Elara's figure ahead. The rustling grew louder, accompanied by faint whispers that seemed to come from every direction.
"They're here," Elara muttered, her voice barely audible.
"Who's here?" Caelum asked, his voice shaking.
"The lost."
The whispers grew louder, forming words that Caelum couldn't quite understand. They were fragmented, overlapping, like a thousand voices speaking at once.
Caelum… Caelum… come back…
He stumbled, his name echoing in the darkness. The voices sounded familiar, like fragments of people he had known, faces he couldn't quite place.
"Elara," he said, panic rising. "They're saying my name."
"That's how they work," she said, her tone urgent. "They reach into your mind, pull memories, faces, voices. They'll use anything to get you to stop. Don't listen to them."
But it was too late. The whispers were getting under his skin, weaving their way into his thoughts. He saw flashes of his mother's face, her soft smile, her voice calling out to him from the shadows.
"Caelum," she said, her tone gentle, loving. "Come back. Come home."
He stopped, his feet rooted to the ground. "Mother?" he whispered, his voice trembling.
Elara spun around, her eyes blazing with fury. "Caelum, no!"
But he couldn't move. The image of his mother grew clearer, her hand outstretched, her eyes filled with tears. "You don't have to fight anymore," she said. "Come with me. It's safe here."
Elara rushed to his side, grabbing his arm. "It's not real," she hissed. "Look at me. Focus."
Caelum's gaze flickered to her, but the vision of his mother was so vivid, so real. "I don't understand," he said. "How can it not be real?"
"It's the Veil," Elara said, shaking him. "It's trying to break you. Fight it."
The shard in his hand flared suddenly, its light cutting through the darkness. The image of his mother flickered, her face twisting into something grotesque—a hollow, eyeless form with a gaping mouth that screamed as the light consumed it.
Caelum stumbled back, his heart racing. The whispers faded, replaced by a deafening silence.
"Do you see now?" Elara said, her grip on his arm tightening. "The Veil will do anything to pull you in. You can't trust what you see here."
He nodded, his breath coming in short gasps. "I'm sorry. I didn't… I didn't mean to stop."
Elara released him, her expression softening. "It's not your fault. The Veil preys on your fears, your desires. But you can't let it win. Not if we're going to make it to the Cradle."
Caelum straightened, the shard's glow steadying in his hand. "I won't let it happen again," he said, his voice firm.
Elara nodded. "Good. Now let's keep moving. The Cradle is still a long way off."
As they pressed on, the air grew colder, the shadows deeper. But Caelum felt a new resolve growing within him. The Veil might have power, but so did he.
And he was determined to uncover the truth—even if it meant facing the darkness head-on.