City Beneath the Veil
The sky had turned the color of burnt amber. It rippled unnaturally, as if someone had stitched the heavens together with fraying thread.
Kael stood at the edge of the cliff, overlooking the rift—a wound in the fabric of the world. Below, nestled in swirling Veil-mist and ancient roots, lay a city lost to time.
Vareth-Kai.
Aelith's voice stirred in his memory: "The city built on a god's tomb. Find it, and you find the truth."
"This place shouldn't exist," Maera whispered, eyes wide. "The maps say the land ends here. Beyond this… is supposed to be nothing."
"Exactly," Kael said. "That's why it was hidden."
Elarin crouched beside him, running her fingers through the dust. "The Veil is thinner here. Too thin. If this city's been exposed, the barrier between realms is weakening faster than we thought."
Kael didn't speak. His gaze was fixed on the obsidian spires of Vareth-Kai. They weren't just ruins—they pulsed faintly with light. Alive. Waiting.
Riven, ever the blade, stepped forward. "Whatever's down there, we face it together."
They descended through a winding staircase carved into the cliffside—clearly not made by mortal hands. Each step was etched with glyphs, glowing faintly as Kael passed. The Shard in his chest hummed in recognition.
At the base, the city welcomed them with silence.
Vareth-Kai was eerie in its beauty—buildings made of soulglass and emberstone, hovering just inches above the ground. The air was thick with memory. Whispers licked at the edge of hearing.
> "Turn back…" "It still dreams…" "He never died…"
They walked in tense silence, weapons drawn. Then Kael saw it—at the center of the city, a ziggurat-like temple wrapped in chains of light. Not iron. Not magic. Divine bindings.
"That's a seal," Elarin said, voice tight. "And it's breaking."
Maera pointed toward the steps. "There's something written there."
Kael approached slowly, boots crunching on shattered tiles. The glyphs burned brighter as he neared:
> Here lies Iryon, the First Veilborn, sealed by his own hand. Do not awaken what still remembers its name.
Kael's breath hitched.
"Iryon…" he murmured. "That name… I've heard it before."
Riven's brow furrowed. "One of the ancient Wardens?"
Elarin shook her head. "Worse. He was the first mortal to bind a Shard and survive."
Kael stared at the chains. They weren't just keeping something in.
They were calling to him.
Suddenly, the temple pulsed. The chains snapped taut. The city trembled.
And then a voice—not echoing, not distant—spoke inside Kael's mind:
> "Warden-child. You carry what was mine. Come and remember."
The doors to the temple exploded outward.
Light poured out, thick as oil and blinding as truth. Kael took a step forward—and the others tried to stop him.
But the Shard had already chosen.
And Kael was no longer just seeking the past.
He was walking straight into the origin of the Veilborn.