The forest was silent now, but the stillness was far from comforting. It was the kind of quiet that suggested the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. The eerie silver light of the vial still cast faint shadows against the trees, its glow pulsating like a heartbeat.
Caelum's steps felt heavier than before, weighed down by the warning of the Forgotten. The path of the Veil demands sacrifice. Their words echoed in his mind like a haunting refrain.
"What do you think they meant?" Finnick asked, breaking the silence. His voice was low, his usual bravado dulled by the encounter. "Sacrifice. Price. All that cryptic nonsense."
Amara answered before Caelum could. "They weren't just spouting riddles, Finnick. That warning wasn't for show. Whatever this magic is, it's not going to let Caelum use it without… consequences."
Finnick shot her a glare. "Yeah, well, that's the problem, isn't it? None of us signed up to get dragged into a death sentence."
"No one's forcing you to stay," Amara snapped, her eyes narrowing. "If you're too scared to face what's ahead, then leave."
"Enough." Caelum's voice cut through their argument like a blade. "We don't have time for this. The Veil isn't just a threat to me—it's a threat to all of Cindrelle. If we don't figure out how to control it, the city won't survive."
The conviction in his tone silenced them both. Finnick looked away, muttering under his breath, while Amara simply nodded, tightening her grip on her sword.
They pressed on, the air growing colder with each step. The path twisted and turned, leading them deeper into the forest. The trees loomed larger now, their gnarled branches stretching overhead like skeletal fingers.
"Do you think they were telling the truth?" Finnick asked after a while. "About the Veil being alive?"
Caelum hesitated. The memory of those glowing eyes, the chorus of whispers, and the way the air had seemed to hum with power was still fresh in his mind. "I don't think they were lying," he admitted. "The Veil isn't just a place. It's… something more. Something aware."
"That's comforting," Finnick muttered.
Amara shot him a look. "If you can't keep your nerves in check, maybe it's better if you don't talk."
Finnick opened his mouth to retort but stopped abruptly, his hand darting to the hilt of his dagger. "Wait. Do you hear that?"
They all froze, straining to listen. At first, there was nothing but the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves. But then, faint and distant, came a low growl.
Caelum's stomach twisted. "What is that?"
Amara scanned the darkness, her stance tense. "We're not alone."
The growling grew louder, accompanied by the sound of something large moving through the underbrush. The shadows around them seemed to shift, coalescing into something tangible.
And then it appeared.
A massive creature emerged from the darkness, its form barely distinguishable from the shadows themselves. It moved on four legs, its body sleek and sinewy, its fur black as night. Its eyes glowed with the same silver light as the Forgotten, but unlike the ghostly figures, there was nothing passive about this creature.
It was a predator.
The beast snarled, revealing rows of sharp, glistening teeth.
"Run," Amara said, her voice low and urgent.
No one argued.
They bolted down the path, the creature's snarls echoing behind them. The ground beneath their feet was uneven, the roots and rocks threatening to trip them with every step.
Caelum's heart pounded in his chest as he ran, the vial in his satchel thudding against his side with each movement. The creature's growls grew louder, closer.
"It's gaining on us!" Finnick shouted, glancing over his shoulder.
Amara skidded to a stop, turning to face the creature with her sword raised. "Keep running!" she yelled.
"No!" Caelum stopped, his breathing ragged. "We can't just leave you—"
"Go!" she snapped, her eyes blazing. "I'll hold it off!"
Before Caelum could argue, the creature lunged. Amara met it head-on, her sword flashing in the dim light. The impact sent a shockwave through the air, the sound of metal against shadow ringing out.
"Come on!" Finnick grabbed Caelum's arm, dragging him away. "She'll be fine!"
Caelum's stomach twisted, but he allowed himself to be pulled along, the sounds of the battle fading behind them.
They didn't stop running until they reached a small clearing, the trees parting to reveal a patch of moonlit grass. Caelum doubled over, gasping for air.
"She can't take it on alone," he said, his voice shaking.
"She's tougher than she looks," Finnick replied, though his tone was laced with doubt.
Before either of them could say anything else, a loud roar echoed through the forest.
And then, silence.
Caelum's chest tightened. "We have to go back."
Finnick grabbed his arm. "No. If you go back, you'll just get yourself killed. We need to keep moving—"
A rustling sound cut him off, and they both turned toward the trees.
Amara stumbled into the clearing, blood dripping from a gash on her arm. Her sword was still in her hand, though it was chipped and smeared with black ichor.
"You're alive!" Caelum exclaimed, rushing to her side.
"Barely," she muttered, wincing as she clutched her arm. "That thing… it wasn't natural."
"What happened to it?" Finnick asked.
Amara shook her head. "I didn't kill it. I just slowed it down. It's still out there."
Caelum felt a chill run down his spine. "Then we need to keep moving."
Amara nodded, her expression grim. "Agreed. But we need to be ready. Whatever that thing was, it won't stop hunting us."
As they resumed their journey, the weight of the Forgotten's warning hung heavy in the air. The Veil demanded sacrifice. And now, it seemed, it was sending its shadows to collect.