The cold seemed to sharpen as they ventured deeper into the Whispering Expanse. The air hung heavy, almost tangible, and Caelum felt each step weigh more than the last, as if the darkness was trying to anchor him in place.
"Elara," he said, his voice cutting through the silence. "You've been to the Cradle before. What's waiting for us?"
Elara didn't respond immediately. Her eyes scanned the path ahead, alert for the slightest movement. When she finally spoke, her voice was low, careful. "I've never reached the Cradle itself. Only the outer edges. What lies beyond the Threshold is unknown."
Her words sent a chill down Caelum's spine. He tightened his grip on the shard, its faint light the only comfort in the pressing dark. "Then how do you know it's the answer?"
"I don't," she admitted. "But everything—the stories, the old texts, the dreams—it all points to the Cradle. If we're going to unravel the Veil, it starts there."
Caelum nodded, though the uncertainty gnawed at him. He had no choice but to trust her, trust the shard, trust the faint pull that seemed to guide them forward.
The path twisted sharply, opening into a vast, cavernous space. The air was heavier here, charged with an energy that made Caelum's skin prickle. In the distance, he could see faint flickers of light, like fireflies, dancing erratically.
"The Threshold," Elara said, pointing to the edge of a jagged stone bridge that stretched into the void.
"What happens when we cross?" Caelum asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"That depends on the Veil," she said.
The bridge loomed ahead, its surface uneven and cracked, as if it might crumble at any moment. Beneath it was nothing but darkness, an abyss so deep that even the shard's glow couldn't penetrate it.
Elara stepped onto the bridge first, her movements deliberate, careful. "Stay close," she said.
Caelum followed, each step sending a faint echo through the cavern. The bridge felt impossibly fragile, and every creak beneath his feet made his heart lurch.
Halfway across, the air shifted. The whispers returned, faint at first, then growing louder, more insistent.
You don't belong here. Turn back.
Caelum gritted his teeth, his mind flashing to the vision of his mother. He wouldn't let it happen again.
"Elara," he said, his voice strained. "The whispers—"
"I hear them too," she said, her tone clipped. "Ignore them. Focus on the shard."
The shard pulsed in his hand, its glow steady and reassuring. Caelum focused on it, letting its warmth anchor him. The whispers seemed to falter, their voices growing more distant.
But then the bridge shuddered.
"Elara!" Caelum shouted as cracks began to spiderweb across the surface.
"Run!" she yelled, sprinting ahead.
Caelum bolted after her, the shard's light bouncing wildly as the bridge crumbled beneath his feet. The abyss yawned below, and for a terrifying moment, he thought he wouldn't make it.
But then Elara's hand shot out, grabbing his arm and pulling him onto solid ground. The bridge collapsed behind them, the sound of falling stone echoing endlessly into the void.
Caelum lay on the ground, gasping for breath. "That… was too close."
Elara helped him to his feet, her expression grim. "The Veil is testing us. It'll only get worse from here."
Ahead of them stood a towering archway, its surface etched with runes that seemed to shimmer faintly in the shard's light. The air around it crackled with energy, a tangible barrier that marked the Threshold.
"This is it," Elara said, her voice barely audible. "Beyond this lies the Cradle."
Caelum stared at the archway, his heart pounding. The shard in his hand pulsed, its light growing brighter, as if it recognized the runes.
"Are you ready?" Elara asked, turning to him.
He nodded, though his hands trembled. "As ready as I'll ever be."
Together, they stepped through the archway.