Chapter 16: The First Veilwalker
The forest went completely silent. Not a single leaf rustled. Even the whispering winds of the Netherveil, ever-present since Noah's arrival, held their breath.
Noah stared at the boy.
The first Veilwalker?
He didn't look like much. Same age as Noah, maybe a little older. Wore a long dark coat covered in runes—some identical to Lyra's, others that shimmered between shapes. His mirror glowed faintly at his side, attached to a silver chain around his wrist.
Noah opened his mouth, but the boy raised a hand. "Before you ask—yes, I know your name. No, I'm not an echo. No, I'm not here to kill you."
"Good start," Riven muttered, dagger still half-drawn.
Lyra studied him closely. "If you're really the first Veilwalker, prove it. Show us something no one else can fake."
The boy stepped forward and turned his mirror. It shimmered once—then split into three reflections of himself, each showing different timelines.
In one, he wore armor and held a spear wreathed in flame. In another, he was kneeling over a crumbled shard. In the last… he was older. Scarred. Surrounded by the dead.
He let the images vanish.
"I walked the Veil before it fractured," he said softly. "Before the council fell. Before the echoes learned how to lie."
Noah narrowed his eyes. "So what happened? Why did the Veil fall apart?"
The boy—if he even was a boy—hesitated.
"We broke it," he said. "The council. The early walkers. We pushed too far into the space between worlds. We tried to connect everything: all mirrors, all timelines, all possibilities. We thought we were building something eternal."
Riven scoffed. "And let me guess—something pushed back?"
"Not something," the boy said. "Ourselves. Our reflections. We didn't realize the echoes weren't just shadows of our thoughts. They were other versions of us—whole and hungry. And when the breach opened... they didn't just come through. They started replacing us."
A cold wind blew through the trees.
Lyra looked shaken. "You're talking about the Mirror War. The war no one remembers because everyone who fought it was either erased—or became something else."
The boy nodded.
"I was the first to walk the Veil. But I was also the first to be replaced. For a while, no one even knew it wasn't me up there with the council. By the time I escaped… it was already too late."
Noah tried to wrap his head around it. "Wait. So if you're real—and your reflection took your place… why come to me?"
"Because the echoes are hunting you," he said. "They know you're different. The coin chose you—not by accident, but by design. You're a fixed point, Vale. You're the anchor."
Noah blinked. "Anchor for what?"
"For the next reset."
The word hit like a thunderclap.
"Nope," Riven said. "No way. You're saying this whole reality—this broken wasteland of mirrors and shadows—is about to get wiped?"
The boy nodded. "And when it does, only the anchor survives. Everything else… is rewritten. Or worse—replaced."
Lyra's voice was sharp. "So what do you want from us?"
The boy looked at Noah. "I want to stop the reset. But I can't do it alone. I've tried. Failed. Burned entire timelines trying. But you—you're different."
Noah stepped forward. "Why me? I didn't ask for any of this."
"Exactly," the boy said. "That's why it chose you. The coin doesn't obey power, or talent. It obeys truth. You don't pretend to be a hero. You're not trying to save the world for glory. You're just trying to survive it."
He held out a silver crystal—shaped like a shard, but pulsing red and silver.
"This is the second shard. You'll need it to reach the Core."
Lyra frowned. "Why give it to us?"
"Because if I hold it any longer, my reflection will find me," he said. "And if it does—it won't just kill me. It'll wear me again."
He tossed the shard.
Noah caught it—barely. It felt heavier than the first, and colder.
"We'll be hunted now," Lyra said grimly.
Riven grinned. "We already were."
Noah met the boy's eyes. "What's your name?"
The boy smiled faintly. "Once, I was called Kael. Now? I don't know anymore."
And just like that, he vanished—like fog in morning light.
They stood in silence.
Two shards. A message from a dead Seer. A boy who'd already lost everything. And the Core—a place none of them had ever seen, buried in the farthest, most broken part of the Veil.
Noah looked at the glowing shard in his hand, then at the Veil Coin on his belt.
"We keep going," he said.
Lyra nodded. "We head northeast. Through the Cursed Ridge."
"Just rolls off the tongue," Riven muttered.
They started walking. The sky above cracked again—larger now, bleeding more light.
And far away, in a mirror that no longer reflected anything real…
Something watched.
And smiled.