The night air pressed heavy against the walls of the abandoned temple. Outside, the moon struggled to pierce the thick blanket of clouds, leaving the world in a muted, silvery gloom. Inside, the flickering light of a single lantern cast long, jagged shadows that danced across the cracked stone floor.
Aeloria sat cross-legged near the altar, her fingers brushing the cold surface as if trying to feel for something buried beneath. Her mind kept replaying the words of the Oracle—cryptic, almost mocking.
"When the heart burns brighter than the stars, the Veil will tear. But beware, for what slips through may not wish to return."
She hated riddles. She hated them even more when they hinted at a danger she couldn't yet define.
Across from her, Kaelen leaned against the wall, arms folded, eyes fixed on her like he was trying to read her thoughts. The tension between them had grown thick in the last few days—not out of anger, but out of something heavier, unspoken.
"You've been quiet since we left the Oracle," Kaelen said finally, breaking the silence.
"I'm thinking," Aeloria replied without looking up.
"That's exactly what worries me," he said, pushing off the wall and walking toward her. "You're planning something."
She finally lifted her gaze, meeting his sharp green eyes. "We're running out of time. You saw what happened in Orvath—how the shadows moved on their own, how they… fed. If the Veil is weakening, we can't just stand here waiting for the next attack."
Kaelen crouched down in front of her, his expression caught somewhere between concern and frustration. "And your plan?"
"I think I know where the Tear will form," she said slowly. "The Oracle's words point to the Obsidian Spire. It's the highest point in the region. If the Veil thins anywhere, it will be there."
Kaelen's jaw tightened. "The Spire's in the Shattered Plains. That's a death sentence. Even if we make it through the storms, there are worse things than shadows lurking there."
She didn't flinch. "Worse things than watching the world collapse?"
His silence told her she had won the argument—at least for now.
By dawn, the group was ready to move. The temple's old doors groaned open, letting in the chill bite of the morning wind. Liora tightened the straps on her leather gauntlets, her eyes scanning the horizon like a hawk. Behind her, Toren slung his massive axe over his shoulder, muttering under his breath about the idiocy of walking willingly into cursed lands.
"Remind me why we're doing this again?" Toren grumbled as they started down the winding path.
"Because," Liora replied without looking at him, "some of us would like to survive the month. And that means getting ahead of whatever's breaking through the Veil."
The road to the Shattered Plains was nothing like the rolling hills they had crossed before. The ground turned to jagged stone, split by deep fissures that hissed with sulfurous steam. Black rock formations rose like teeth from the earth, and the sky churned with thick, unnatural clouds.
The wind carried whispers.
At first, Aeloria thought it was her imagination. But the further they went, the more distinct the voices became—soft, almost pleading, like fragments of conversations caught in the breeze.
Kaelen noticed her frown. "You hear it too?"
She nodded. "They're not… human voices."
"Then stop listening," he said firmly. "That's how they pull you in."
They reached the edge of the Shattered Plains by nightfall. The landscape ahead looked like the world had been smashed to pieces and left to rot. Lightning flashed in the distance, illuminating the jagged silhouette of the Obsidian Spire.
It rose impossibly high, its black surface swallowing the light instead of reflecting it. For a moment, Aeloria thought she saw movement along its surface—like shadows crawling upward.
"We camp here," Kaelen said, scanning the area for cover. "We move at first light."
But the night offered no peace.
Aeloria woke to the sound of footsteps just beyond the ring of their firelight. She reached for her dagger, heart pounding.
"Aeloria…"
The voice was familiar. Too familiar.
She turned and saw her mother standing in the darkness. Her skin was pale, her eyes warm—just as Aeloria remembered before the sickness had taken her years ago.
"You shouldn't be here," her mother whispered, her voice trembling. "The Spire will take more than you're willing to give."
Aeloria's breath caught. "You're not real."
Her mother stepped closer, and for a moment, the warmth in her eyes shifted to something darker. "Real enough to warn you. Leave this place… or I will see you on the other side."
The fire flickered violently, and when Aeloria blinked, the figure was gone.
By morning, she didn't tell anyone what she had seen. Kaelen already suspected too much, and Toren would have laughed it off. Liora might have believed her—but belief wouldn't stop what was coming.
The climb to the Spire was worse than she had imagined. The air grew thin, and the path wound through narrow ledges with sheer drops on either side. The black stone seemed to hum under their boots, a low vibration that made her bones ache.
Halfway up, the sky split open.
A jagged tear of light ripped across the horizon, spilling shadows like ink into the air. The Veil was opening.
Kaelen grabbed her arm. "We're too late!"
"No," she said, her voice steady despite the chaos above. "This is exactly when we need to be here."
The shadows surged toward them, moving like liquid, reaching with claws made of smoke. Toren swung his axe, cutting through the tendrils, but every strike only bought them seconds.
Aeloria pushed forward, the hum in the stone growing louder, almost deafening. She reached the base of the Spire and pressed her palm against it.
The cold was absolute.
The world blurred, and suddenly she wasn't standing on stone anymore—she was suspended in a vast, endless space filled with swirling silver light. Shapes moved within the light, some beautiful, others monstrous.
One of them turned toward her.
Its eyes glowed like molten gold, its voice resonating directly in her mind. "You are not ready to see what lies beyond."
Aeloria clenched her fists. "Then make me ready."
The being tilted its head. "That comes at a cost."
The silver light began to fracture, and she felt herself being pulled back—back toward her body, back toward the screaming wind of the Shattered Plains.
She stumbled, Kaelen catching her before she hit the ground. His eyes searched hers with a sharpness that told her he knew something had happened.
"What did you see?" he demanded.
She shook her head, still trying to catch her breath. "Something… or someone… on the other side. And they're watching us."
Lightning struck the Spire again, and this time, a crack formed down its center. The Tear in the Veil widened.
And from within, something began to step through.