The night was cold, even for Thal'khor. The wind swept down from the Vydrith Peaks, carrying with it the scent of snow and decay. The city was alive with whispers, the sound of hurried footsteps echoing through narrow alleyways and across cobblestone streets. Lanterns flickered weakly in the gloom, casting long, twisted shadows across the ancient walls of the city. Above, the stars were obscured by a thick veil of clouds, hiding whatever secrets the heavens might hold.

Kaelen Thorne stood atop a dilapidated rooftop, staring out across the city. His black cloak billowed in the wind, his dark hair unkempt, his sharp green eyes scanning the horizon. He could feel the pulse of the city, the way it seemed to hum with an energy he couldn't quite explain. There was something wrong with Thal'khor tonight, something beyond the usual sense of unease that always seemed to hang over the city.

In the distance, he saw the silhouette of the Covenant's tower, rising above the city like a jagged tooth. The tower was the heart of the city, a symbol of power and control. Beneath it, the city was a labyrinth of corruption, intrigue, and dark magic. It was said that the Covenant knew everything—past, present, and future—and yet, the more Kaelen learned about them, the more elusive they became.

His mind wandered back to the visions. Ever since the day the mark had appeared on his skin—an intricate, glowing sigil shaped like a spiral, with lines that seemed to move when he wasn't looking—he'd been haunted by dreams of a vast, swirling storm. In these dreams, he was standing on the edge of a great cliff, looking out over a darkened sea. And from the depths of that sea, a monstrous shape would rise, its eyes glowing with an unnatural light. The storm would rage, and the world would tremble. And always, in the back of his mind, a single word echoed: Veil.

Kaelen had no idea what it meant. He had asked the Covenant once, but their response was a cold, cryptic answer. "The Veil is not for you to understand."

He turned away from the tower and descended the rooftop, landing lightly in the alley below. His steps were quick but careful, avoiding the clatter of his boots against the stones. He was headed to the Twilight Market, a place where information could be bought and sold, where secrets were worth more than gold. There, perhaps, he would find a clue, a piece of the puzzle that had been haunting him for weeks.

The market was bustling as usual, filled with traders hawking their wares, strange foods from distant lands, and magical trinkets of questionable origin. But beneath the surface, the market was a place of danger, a place where the shadows could hide anything—and anyone. Kaelen made his way through the crowd, his cloak pulled tight around him, his senses alert. He could feel the prickle of magic in the air, the subtle hum of energy that seemed to emanate from the deepest corners of the market.

As he reached the heart of the market, a figure emerged from the shadows—a woman, cloaked in a dark, tattered robe. Her face was hidden beneath a hood, but Kaelen could sense the weight of her gaze. There was something about her, something familiar, though he couldn't place it. She stepped forward, her voice low and hushed.

"Kaelen Thorne," she said, her words carrying an edge of warning. "The time has come."

Kaelen froze, his hand instinctively reaching for the dagger at his side. "Who are you?" he demanded. "What do you want?"

The woman's lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. "You don't remember me, do you?" she asked, her voice soft, almost sad. "No matter. The Covenant is not the only power in this world. And you are about to learn that, whether you're ready or not."

Before Kaelen could respond, the woman reached into the folds of her robe and produced a small, ornate box. She held it out to him. "This is for you," she said. "It's the key you've been searching for."

Kaelen hesitated. "What is it?"

She simply nodded, a look of urgency in her eyes. "Take it. You'll understand soon enough. But be warned, Kaelen. Once you open it, there's no turning back."

With that, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving Kaelen standing in the center of the market, the mysterious box heavy in his hand.

He glanced down at it, his heart pounding. The mark on his skin seemed to glow faintly in response. He knew, deep down, that this was the beginning of something far bigger than he could ever imagine. The storm was coming. And Kaelen Thorne was at the center of it all.