The transport dropped them at the edge of the Veilwood just after dusk.
The forest breathed.
Ancient trees rose like cathedral spires, their trunks wrapped in living runes that pulsed soft emerald and violet. Bioluminescent moss rose from the ground, lighting their path in shifting constellations. The air tasted of pine, starlight, and old magic so thick it clung to the skin like mist.
They walked single file: Lirael in the lead, cloak woven from living night, Elyndra at his side, Seraphine and Tobias shoulder to shoulder, Kael bringing up the rear with uncharacteristic silence.
No armor. No weapons beyond themselves. Only the clothes on their backs and the quiet certainty that if they were seen, they would not leave the forest alive.
The wards began two miles out.
Lirael raised a hand. The air shimmered like heat over pavement, then folded. A seam of pure starlight opened just wide enough for them to pass single file.
"Old hunter's trick," he whispered. "Vaelor's wards look for intent. We walk like we belong."
They walked.
Every step felt watched. Every breath tasted of ozone and old magic. The forest itself seemed to lean in, curious, judging. Whispers rustled through the leaves—faint voices that weren't quite wind, murmuring words just out of reach. Tobias's skin prickled; the heat inside him stirred, restless, as if the magic in the air was calling to it.
Seraphine's fingers brushed his, grounding him. "Stay focused," she murmured. "The Veilwood plays tricks. Let it in and it'll rewrite your thoughts."
He nodded, but the whispers grew louder, slithering into his ears like smoke: You don't belong here… turn back… the trees remember your blood…
A branch snapped ahead.
Lirael froze, hand up.
Patrol.
Four fae guards melted from the trees, silent as ghosts, eyes glowing pale blue in the dim. They moved with predatory grace, longbows nocked but not drawn, scanning the underbrush.
The squad flattened against trunks, cloaks blending with the bark under Lirael's illusion weave. But the magic in the air thickened, pressing against Tobias's temples like a building headache. The whispers turned to laughter, mocking: They see you… run… fight…
His vision blurred. The heat flared in response, pushing back, but it only made the disorientation worse. Seraphine's hand tightened on his, her cool touch an anchor.
One guard paused, head tilting as if catching a scent.
Lirael's fingers danced in the air, weaving a faint breeze that carried their scent away.
The patrol moved on, vanishing into the mist.
Kael exhaled slowly. "Close."
"Too close," Seraphine muttered. "The wards are waking up. We need to move faster."
They pressed on.
The deeper they went, the thicker the magic became. The air hummed with it, a low vibration that set teeth on edge and made focus slip like wet glass. Tobias's thoughts fractured: flashes of Amira's face, Seraphine's fangs, the golden silhouette from his dream. The heat inside him answered with uneasy pulses, as if the forest was trying to pull it free.
Another patrol, closer this time.
They dove into a thicket of glowing thorns just as five fae emerged from the fog. The guards stopped feet away, murmuring in ancient tongues. One reached out, fingers brushing a leaf near Seraphine's hiding spot.
Tobias's breath caught. The magic in the air spiked, whispering lies: They know… attack… kill them now…
Seraphine's hand clamped over his mouth from behind, cool and firm. Her lips brushed his ear. "Don't."
Lirael's veil shimmered, holding.
The patrol passed.
Tobias sagged against Seraphine, sweat beading on his brow despite the chill.
"The magic's getting to us," Kael whispered when they emerged. "Feels like it's inside my head."
Elyndra nodded, rubbing her temples. "Veilwood protects its own. It tests intruders. Pushes doubts to the surface."
Seraphine's grip on Tobias's hand didn't loosen. "Then we push back."
The final ward loomed: a wall of woven thorns and starlight, runes writhing like living serpents.
Lirael traced patterns in the air, sweat on his brow for the first time. The runes fought him, flaring bright, sending sparks that singed his cloak.
"Almost," he grunted.
A distant horn sounded. Fae signal. Patrol incoming.
Kael cursed. "Company. Fast."
Seraphine bared fangs. "Buy time."
She and Kael melted into shadow, ready to intercept.
Lirael's spell snapped into place. The ward parted with a groan, revealing a dark stair descending into black glass and silver runes.
"Down!" Lirael hissed.
They dropped into the corridor just as fae voices echoed closer.
The ward sealed behind them with a soft sigh, cutting off the world above.
They stood in the quiet dark, breaths ragged, hearts pounding.
Lirael wiped sweat from his brow. "Last stretch. The vault door is ahead."
They moved fast.
Half a mile of echoing silence, the air growing colder, thicker with the taste of old blood and forgotten experiments.
They rounded the final corner.
And stopped.
A single archway of obsidian and living crystal stood sealed, runes writhing like serpents. In its center, a handprint burned with cold white fire.
Lirael's face went very still.
"That," he said quietly, "is new."
Elyndra stepped forward, fingers glowing as she read the ward. "It's keyed to a specific essence signature. Not fae. Not any single race."
She looked at Tobias.
"I think it's keyed to you."
Kael let out a low whistle. "Well. That's not creepy at all."
Tobias stared at the burning handprint.
The heat inside him surged, reaching toward the door like it recognized home.
Lirael met his eyes, solemn for once.
"Whatever they locked away down here," he said, "it was waiting for you."
Tobias stepped forward.
The runes flared brighter.
He pressed his palm to the mark.
The door screamed open.
And something on the other side screamed back.
The corridor was a black vein of glass and shadows, cold air thick with the dust of centuries undisturbed. They moved fast but silent, Lirael's faint starlight spell gave the only illumination. Every step echoed faintly, and the magic in the walls seemed to press against their minds, whispers of doubt, flickers of forgotten memories, the air humming with old power that made focus slip like oil on glass.
Tobias's temples throbbed. The heat inside him stirred restlessly, answering the wards like an old echo.
They rounded a bend, and the corridor opened into a massive chamber that stole the breath from all of them.
Tables stretched in endless rows, metal surfaces scarred and stained, restraints dangling from edges like forgotten chains. Papers yellowed with age scattered across the floor, some fluttering in the faint draft from their entry. Glass vials and ancient instruments lay abandoned, coated in dust that spoke of decades untouched. The room reeked of stale magic and something metallic, like old blood soaked into stone.
"This is it," Lirael whispered, voice tight. "The testing vault. We split up. Search fast. We can't linger, Vaelor's patrols could circle back any second."
They fanned out.
Tobias moved to the left flank, flipping through scattered files with shaking hands. The magic in the air thickened here, pressing against his skull, making words blur on the page. Whispers slithered in: You're not ready… turn back…
He shook it off, but the effort made his temples pound harder.
Kael's voice cut through the quiet. "Over here."
They converged.
Kael held a folder open, face pale. Inside were images: men, women, children strapped to tables like these, bodies cut open, organs harvested while they still breathed. Magic siphoned from glowing veins into vials. Screams frozen in black-and-white agony.
Kael's hand shook. "What the hell is this?"
Tobias's gut twisted. One photo hit hardest: a young girl, no more than ten, eyes black as voids with dark rings circling them, skin pale as death, teeth elongated into fangs. Motionless on the slab, a vial beside her capturing some dark, swirling essence.
Rage boiled in Tobias's chest. "This is what they did to me. Before me."
Seraphine grabbed a stack of holo tapes, shoving them into her pack with vicious efficiency. "We take everything. Files, tapes, samples. Leave the rest if we have to."
Kael rifled through drawer after drawer, pulling folders, data crystals, anything that looked important. "This is bigger than us. This is the Accord's dirty secret."
Lirael stayed at the entrance, eyes scanning the corridor, tension coiling in his frame. He glanced back every few seconds, whispering updates. "Clear… for now."
The magic in the air grew heavier, pressing like a headache that whispered doubts: You're too late… they know you're here… run…
Tobias shook it off again, but it clung harder each time.
Then a crash.
Glass shattering.
Everyone froze.
The sound came from Elyndra. She stood over a broken vial, liquid spilling across the floor in a hissing mist that vanished into the air like smoke. Her face was pale, hands trembling as she shoved something small and glowing into her bag.
Lirael's head snapped around. "What was that?"
Elyndra straightened too quickly. "Nothing. Accident."
But her voice shook.
Lirael's eyes narrowed. "We need to go. Now. That sound… it could be a trigger."
They grabbed what they could and bolted for the corridor.
Tobias paused at the threshold. A faint glow caught the corner of his eye, light seeping from a side door he hadn't noticed before.
The magic in the air surged, the whispers turning to a roar: Go… see… it's waiting…
He felt drawn, like invisible strings pulling at his limbs.
One step.
Then another.
The others' voices faded behind him.
"Tobias!" Seraphine shouted, but it sounded distant.
He reached the door. Pushed.
It swung open with a groan that echoed like judgment.
Inside: a chamber of glass and steel. Containers lined the walls, filled with liquid and tubes. In the center, one glowed.
Inside it floated a figure.
Him.
Tobias's own face stared back, eyes closed, body suspended in glowing fluid, tubes harvesting blood, magic, essence from every vein.
'What the fuck."
The whispers laughed.
The facility alarms screamed to life.
And Tobias realized it too late: The trap had just sprung.