The third veil awaited them beyond a river of crimson mist.
Each step forward made the air heavier, the color of the world deepening into shades of red and gold. The ground itself seemed to breathe—alive with ancient memory.
Allia stopped first. Her silver light flickered.
"This place… it remembers the beginning," she whispered.
In the center of the crimson field stood three ancient stones, engraved with sigils that pulsed faintly. As the girls approached, drops of light fell from above—turning into threads of blood that intertwined in the air, linking the three stones together.
A voice rose from the mist—neither male nor female, but timeless.
> "Three bloodlines. One curse.
Bound by betrayal, broken by grief,
and sealed by sacrifice."
The moment the words echoed, pain erupted through their veins.
Lalin gasped, clutching her chest as crimson light crawled beneath her skin.
Emma screamed as symbols flared on her arms, the mark of her people reawakening.
Allia fell to her knees, silver tears turning red. "It's the bond… the truth of our blood."
Visions poured into their minds — not illusions this time, but memories from their ancestors.
They saw how their tribes once stood as one — children of light, born from the same source.
But greed divided them. One tribe sought immortality. Another sought power. The last, purity.
When the gods turned away, their war consumed the heavens.
And in the end… the three tribes cursed each other, binding their descendants to endless sorrow.
Emma collapsed, tears falling onto the bloodstained ground.
"All this time… we hated each other for something we never did."
Lalin reached for her, trembling. "We carried their sins… without even knowing."
Allia rose slowly, her silver hair stained crimson in the mist.
"Then let us be the ones to end it. If our blood began the curse… our blood must also end it."
The three joined hands once more. The ground shuddered, the crimson mist roaring as their combined light pierced the curse that bound them.
Pain became warmth. Blood became light. And for a fleeting moment, the mist turned clear—revealing the stars above.
The veil shattered. The third trial was complete.
But even as they breathed in relief, a distant voice whispered from the dark horizon:
> "To end the curse… one heart must fall."
Their eyes met. Silence. Fear. Love.
And the truth of those words lingered — heavy as blood, and real as fate.