The sound of shouting grew louder, the discordant chaos cutting through the usual murmur of the marketplace. Achem's hand instinctively reached for the hilt of his sword. He had seen enough to know that in a city like this, commotion often meant opportunity—or danger. The market was a place of secrets, and it seemed that whatever was unfolding nearby might reveal something important.
Lysara's eyes flicked to the source of the disturbance. "We should investigate. We might find someone who knows more about the Veil or who can lead us to the temple."
Achem didn't need any convincing. He motioned for the group to follow, and they pushed through the thinning crowd, making their way toward the source of the uproar. The streets had emptied somewhat, the locals wary of the conflict unfolding just ahead.
The noise was coming from an intersection just ahead, where a group of city guards had gathered, their armor gleaming in the daylight, their swords drawn. But it wasn't the guards that held Achem's attention—it was the man they were surrounding. He was tall, with wild black hair and a tattered cloak, his face twisted in defiance as he shouted insults at the soldiers. His words were lost in the noise, but his posture was anything but submissive.
"What's going on here?" Achem muttered, as they neared the scene.
Lysara squinted at the man. "He's not a common criminal. Look at the way he stands. There's more to this than it seems."
The guards had him backed into a corner, their spears pointed toward his chest, but the man didn't flinch. If anything, he seemed to be provoking them. The leader of the group, a grizzled man with a scar running across his face, barked something at the man, his voice laced with authority.
Achem's instincts flared. He was no stranger to confrontation, and the situation seemed ripe for intervention. He motioned for Garron and the rest of the group to stay back, and then took a step forward, his voice cutting through the noise.
"Hold! What is this about?"
The leader of the guards turned sharply, his eyes narrowing as he took in Achem and his group. For a moment, there was a tense silence, the tension in the air almost tangible. The scarred man's gaze flicked between Achem and the defiant prisoner.
"None of your concern, stranger," the guard captain growled. "This man is under arrest for disturbing the peace and making threats against the city. We'll deal with him. You should turn around and leave."
Achem's gaze hardened. He could tell there was more to the story than that. The man they had cornered wasn't just some drunk causing trouble—there was a certain fire in his eyes that suggested he knew something. And Achem needed information. He needed answers.
"I don't think you'll be dealing with him much longer," Achem said, his voice low but commanding. "Perhaps you'd be willing to tell me what's really going on here?"
The guard captain scowled, clearly not used to being questioned in front of others. He stepped closer, his tone turning hostile. "I don't owe you an explanation. I suggest you move along before you find yourself in a situation you don't want to be in."
Achem wasn't intimidated. He had been in far worse situations in his life. The city guards were just another obstacle in his path. "I'm not leaving," he said firmly, eyes locked on the captain's. "And I don't think your prisoner will be in much danger if we let him go. He might be useful to us."
The guard captain's grip tightened on his sword, and the other guards tensed, ready for a fight. But the prisoner—who had been silently watching the exchange—spoke up.
"Let them through," he said, his voice rough but with a strange sense of calm. "It's not worth the fight. If they want to know, they can hear it from me."
The guard captain hesitated for a moment, clearly debating whether to take the risk. But after a long, tense pause, he finally gave a curt nod. "Fine. But if you try anything, I'll have you arrested. You've been warned."
With a sharp motion, the guards stepped back, allowing Achem and his group to approach. The prisoner's eyes were still filled with fire, but there was a flicker of something else there too—something that felt like recognition.
"You're not from around here," the man said as Achem stepped closer. "I can tell by the look in your eyes. You came for something."
Achem studied him carefully. The man was tall, lean, and covered in dirt, his clothes in tatters. But his presence—his confidence—was unmistakable. This wasn't just a random rebel. This man was someone who had knowledge, someone who had connections. Achem could see it in the way he carried himself.
"We came for information," Achem said, his voice low. "We need to know about the Veil."
The man's expression didn't change, but there was a brief flicker of surprise in his eyes. "So it's them you're after," he muttered under his breath. "Thought I recognized that look. The Veil is what everyone's after these days."
Lysara raised an eyebrow. "What do you know about them?"
The man glanced around, as though ensuring they weren't being watched too closely. "I know enough. I've been on the run from them for years. They don't take kindly to people digging into their business."
Achem's heart quickened. This was it. He had found someone who knew.
"You've crossed them?" Achem asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The man nodded grimly. "Once you get involved with them, there's no way out. They pull the strings behind every throne in this city, and anyone who threatens to expose them ends up… well, like me." He gestured to his ragged clothes. "But that's not the worst part. The worst part is that they can see things you can't. They know things about you before you even think them. And they will use that against you."
Achem's mind was racing. "Where can we find them?"
The man's eyes flicked to the street behind them, then back to Achem. "You're not going to like it. But if you really want to find them, go to the old temple to the west. But be careful. That place is crawling with people who don't like visitors. And the Veil? They've got eyes everywhere. They'll know the moment you step foot inside."
Achem's jaw tightened. He had been right. The temple was the key, but it was a place of danger—a place where the Veil controlled everything from the shadows.
"You're sure it's the temple?" Achem asked, his voice steady.
The man nodded. "It's the only place left. But you'd better be prepared. Once you step inside, there's no turning back."
Achem turned to his group, his mind already calculating their next steps. "We'll make our way there tonight. We can't afford to waste time."
The man gave a small, knowing smile. "Good luck. You'll need it. And if you ever find yourselves needing someone to watch your back, look for me. My name's Kaelen."
Achem nodded. "We'll remember that."
As they turned to leave, the crowd seemed to shift around them, and the city's oppressive weight settled back into place. The storm was coming, and Achem could feel it on the horizon. The Veil's grip on this city was stronger than he had imagined, but he wasn't backing down. He had come this far—and now, nothing was going to stop him from uncovering the truth.