Elias couldn't sleep. Even after midnight, the city's noise pressed at his window—sirens, distant arguments, the low mechanical throb of life refusing to rest. But underneath it all, he felt something else: a pulse, soft as a heartbeat, echoing just beyond his senses.
Images from the park replayed in his mind: Jamie's strange drawings, the way his own reflection had flickered in the fountain, and the chilling sense that someone—or something—was watching from the shadows. He tossed and turned, unable to shake the feeling.
Finally, around three in the morning, he gave up. The apartment was silent, his mother already asleep after another long shift. Elias padded into the living room, switched on a dim lamp, and pulled out his notebook. He began to sketch—first the fountain, then the swirling patterns from Jamie's page, then a feather, delicate and iridescent, that seemed to appear in his memory all on its own.
His hand moved without thinking, tracing symbols and shapes that felt both familiar and foreign. The air in the room shifted, colder, and for a moment he thought he heard a voice, low and far away.
He looked up—and froze.
Across the street, just inside the halo of a flickering streetlight, stood a girl. She was pale, her hair long and silver-black, her eyes reflecting the distant city lights in a way that made them seem not quite human. Her presence was sharp as winter and yet oddly comforting, like the memory of a lullaby from childhood. Elias blinked, and she was gone. Only the empty street remained, washed pale by the moon.
He pressed his hand to the cold glass. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was the Veil, thin and shivering in the predawn.
He shivered, but a part of him felt more awake than ever.
---
Elsewhere, Jamie sat cross-legged on his bed, sketchbook open across his knees, flipping through pages filled with symbols and shadowy faces. He felt restless—more than usual. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw the same image: two figures at the edge of a doorway, one clear, the other haloed in light and darkness both.
He didn't remember drawing it, not really. But the marks were his.
Jamie thumbed the edge of the paper, feeling a faint, living pulse beneath his skin. It was almost like the sketches wanted to tell him something, like they were messages for someone who knew how to read between the lines.
Unable to resist, Jamie got dressed and slipped out into the night, sketchbook under his arm. The city was quieter now, and he moved through it like a shadow, heading for the only place that ever felt real to him—the old park with its cracked fountain.
When he arrived, he wasn't surprised to see Elias already there, perched on the rim, eyes distant. Jamie offered a lopsided grin and sat beside him without a word.
He pulled a page from his sketchbook and handed it over. "You ever get the feeling we're just waiting for something to start?"
Elias studied the lines—spirals, feathers, a door in shadow. "Yeah," he said softly. "I do."
Jamie pointed to the corner of the drawing. "See that?"
There, barely visible, was a third shape—half-formed, as if the paper itself was uncertain whether it belonged. Elias touched the spot and felt the same electric chill he'd felt in his apartment.
Before either could say more, a feather drifted down from above, pale and glimmering in the moonlight. Elias reached out, catching it. It pulsed, faintly alive in his palm.
They sat in silence, watching the fountain, knowing neither could explain what was happening—but also that they weren't alone.
---
On the rooftop above, Mira watched them, unseen. She had been patient for years, moving between shadows, forbidden to interfere—but tonight, the Veil was thinning. The boy, Elias, shimmered with possibility, his energy singing to something old and hidden within her. Jamie's presence steadied the thread, a bridge neither of them understood yet.
She traced a sigil in the air, invisible to all but those who could see beyond. "Guide him, Jamie," she whispered. "No one should face the unknown alone."
A distant siren broke the spell. Mira faded into the mist, her watchful gaze lingering on the boys below. The world's rhythm had shifted. What was begun could no longer be undone.
---
As the night deepened, Elias, Jamie, and the shadowy figure on the roof were drawn together by forces none of them could name.
And somewhere beyond the city, the Veil rippled—waiting for someone brave enough to step through.