The moment Caelum and Elara crossed the archway, the world seemed to invert. The air vanished, replaced by a suffocating stillness, as if time itself had paused. The light from the shard dimmed, flickering like a dying ember, and Caelum's stomach churned as the ground beneath his feet warped.
Then, with a jarring pull, reality snapped back into place.
Caelum staggered, nearly falling to his knees. The air was different here—thin and sharp, filled with a metallic tang that stung his lungs. The ground was smooth and cold, like polished obsidian, stretching out in all directions under a sky that defied explanation.
Above them, the heavens churned with impossible colors—deep violets, searing golds, and vibrant greens that swirled together in a chaotic dance. Stars blinked in and out of existence, their light casting strange, shifting shadows across the landscape.
"What… is this place?" Caelum whispered, his voice barely audible over the hum that seemed to emanate from the ground itself.
"The Cradle," Elara said, her voice tinged with awe. "The heart of the Veil."
Caelum turned in a slow circle, trying to take it all in. The Cradle didn't feel like a place—it felt alive, like a living entity that was watching them, judging them.
The shard in his hand grew warm, its light steady once more. It pulled at him, an insistent tug that urged him forward.
"Do you feel that?" he asked, holding up the shard.
Elara nodded. "It's guiding us. The Cradle knows why we're here."
As they walked, the landscape began to shift. The smooth obsidian gave way to jagged formations that jutted out of the ground like broken teeth. The air grew colder, each breath forming a faint mist.
Then they saw it.
A massive structure loomed ahead, its form both alien and familiar. It looked like a cathedral, its spires reaching toward the swirling sky, but its walls were translucent, shimmering like liquid glass. The hum grew louder as they approached, resonating in Caelum's chest.
"This is it," Elara said, her voice hushed. "The heart of the Cradle."
Caelum hesitated. The shard pulsed in his hand, its light brighter than ever, but there was a weight to the air that made his skin crawl. "Do you think… it's safe?"
Elara glanced at him, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "Do you want the comforting answer, or the honest one?"
He couldn't help but grin despite the tension. "Honest."
"I have no idea," she admitted. "But we didn't come this far to turn back now."
Taking a deep breath, Caelum stepped forward, the shard guiding him. As they neared the cathedral, the translucent walls began to ripple, like water disturbed by a stone. Symbols appeared on the surface—runes similar to those on the Threshold, but more complex, their meanings just out of reach.
Elara reached out, her fingers brushing the surface. The runes flared with light, and a low rumble echoed through the air. The walls began to part, splitting down the center to reveal a vast chamber within.
The interior of the cathedral was even more surreal than the outside. The floor was a mirror, reflecting the swirling sky above, and towering pillars of light stretched from floor to ceiling, their surfaces shifting with images of people, places, and events.
"What is this place?" Caelum asked, his voice filled with wonder.
"The Veil's memory," Elara said, stepping forward. "Everything it's ever touched, every life it's consumed… it's all here."
Caelum's eyes widened as he approached one of the pillars. Within its shifting surface, he saw images of Cindrelle—its bustling streets, its towering spires, its people. But the scenes were fragmented, distorted, as if viewed through a cracked lens.
Then he saw something that made his breath catch.
It was his mother.
She stood in the center of the image, her face etched with determination. She held something in her hands—a shard, identical to the one he now carried.
"Mother…" Caelum reached out instinctively, but the image dissolved, replaced by another scene.
Elara was at his side in an instant. "What did you see?"
"My mother," he said, his voice trembling. "She was here. She had a shard."
Elara's brow furrowed. "That can't be a coincidence. The shard you carry—it might be hers."
Caelum's mind raced. Why had she come here? What had she found?
Before he could dwell on it further, the hum grew louder, almost deafening. The pillars of light began to pulse, their images blurring.
"Something's happening," Elara said, her hand going to her blade.
The floor beneath them rippled, and a voice echoed through the chamber, low and resonant, like the tolling of a bell.
"Bearer of the shard… why have you come?"
Caelum froze. The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, wrapping around him like a physical presence.
"I—" He swallowed hard, his mind scrambling for words. "I came to understand the Veil. To stop it."
The voice rumbled, a sound that might have been laughter. "Stop it? You cannot stop what has always been. The Veil is not your enemy. It is your teacher."
"What does that mean?" Caelum demanded.
The pillars of light flared, and the voice grew quieter, almost mournful. "You seek answers. You will find them. But beware—the truth is a burden, and the Veil does not give without taking in return."
Before Caelum could respond, the shard in his hand flared with light, and the world dissolved into blinding white.