《The Veil Keeper Oath》


 Prologue

    The children sat, eyes wide, as their teacher gathered them around, her voice soft yet clear, carrying the weight of a story far older than any of them could understand. The fire flickered gently, casting shadows on the stone walls of the hall. The air was warm with the promise of a tale that would stretch the mind, and the teacher smiled at the eager faces before her.


    "Long, long ago," she began, her voice lowering as if to keep the secret of the world itself, "the universe was empty. No stars, no worlds, no gods. There was only the vast nothingness. And then, there was one thing¡ªjust a single seed."


    She paused, her hands resting over her heart, as if holding the seed herself.


    "This seed¡ªsmall, fragile¡ªbegan to grow. From it, roots twisted deep into the void, and above it, a great trunk reached toward the endless skies. Slowly, very slowly, the seed spread. It created the land beneath it, a mass of earth that grew into vast plains, mountains, and oceans. And then, from the leaves of the tree¡ªgolden and silver, radiant with the first light¡ªthe light began."


    Her eyes glimmered as she continued, "The Mother Tree, as we call her, bathed the land in that light, and all things grew from it. Life blossomed¡ªbeasts, plants, all the creatures we know now came to be. But it wasn''t just the world that the Mother Tree shaped. No, she had a greater purpose."


    She smiled, leaning forward, drawing the children in with the next part of the tale.


    "From the branches of the Mother Tree fell twelve seeds. Each one was destined to become its own world. These twelve seeds took root in the fabric of the universe, each giving birth to a great World Tree. These trees grew strong, their roots and branches stretching across the vastness of the heavens, each tied to the others by the very veins of the Veil. They were connected by a deep, vast root system¡ªthe veins that flowed with life and power. This is the Veil, where gods and mortals alike would one day tread."


    She gave a soft laugh, as if reminiscing on the age-old truths. "Each of these worlds held its own god, a World Shaper¡ªeach god different, each world unique. They crafted their worlds with care, shaping mountains and seas, forests and deserts. For a time, the gods were happy. They walked the Veil, sharing their creations with one another, marveling at the beauty of what they had wrought."


    The teacher¡¯s gaze softened. "But, over time, the gods grew lonely. They saw the life they had shaped, the creatures they had given form, and they longed for something more. They wanted children of their own, something to love, something to guide. So, they went to the Mother Tree, and there, they prayed."


    The children leaned in, holding their breath.


    " The Mother Tree, moved by their yearning, answered. She created twelve new races, each one embodying a balance of forces and representing one of the twelve cosmic elements: the Lightborn and the Shadowborn, who held the power of Radiance and Darkness; the Orderborn and the Chaoborn, shaped by Law and Chaos; the Voidborn and the Starborn, born from Emptiness and Creation; the Lifeborn and the Deathborn, tied to Life and the End; the Dawnborn and the Duskborn, embodying Beginning and Conclusion; and the Flameborn and the Crystalborn, masters of Energy and Structure."


    The teacher paused, watching as the children tried to remember all the names.


    "The gods were happy. Their children walked the Veil, visiting each world, exploring and sharing in the wonders of their divine siblings¡¯ creations. There was peace, joy, and laughter. The gods watched over their children, guiding them, teaching them. And for a time, it seemed the world was as it was meant to be."


    Her voice softened, tinged with sadness. "But nothing lasts forever. The Veil-Keepers war changed everything."


    The children¡¯s eyes widened, questions on the tip of their tongues, but the teacher held up her hand, a gentle gesture that silenced them.


    "That, my little ones, is a story for another time."


    The fire crackled as the room settled into a deep, thoughtful silence.


    One of the children, unable to hold back any longer, raised a hand, her voice hesitant but full of curiosity. "But... what about humans? Where did they come from?"


    The teacher¡¯s eyes twinkled with a knowing smile. She motioned for the child to come closer, her voice dropping to a soft whisper, as though she were sharing a secret only for their ears. The others leaned in, eager to hear.


    "The World Trees," she began, her tone serious but tinged with intrigue, "grew jealous. Jealous of the attention the Motherborn races received, of the love and admiration showered upon them. So, the World Trees... they worked together, pooling their powers in secret, to create something of their own. Their own children. And so, humans were born."


    The teacher looked around the circle, her eyes meeting each of theirs. "Humans," she said, "are the children of the World Trees."


    The child¡¯s eyes sparkled with excitement, his voice rising with enthusiasm. ¡°That makes us stronger, doesn¡¯t it? We can choose our mark and our gift! I¡¯m going to get Pyralis¡¯ mark, so I can throw fireballs!¡± His hands shot into the air as though casting an imaginary flame.


    Another child, equally eager, bounced on her feet. ¡°I¡¯ll choose Astraeus¡¯ mark! I¡¯ll become a master smith, able to forge anything I can dream of!¡±


    The teacher chuckled softly, her eyes warm with affection. She nodded slowly, though her voice held a note of caution. "Indeed, you can choose your mark, for humans possess the gift of free will. But remember, it is not a choice to be taken lightly. With every mark comes great responsibility."Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    --


    The sun hung low in the sky, casting a blood-red hue over the battlefield. Sir Geld stood at the front of his weary ranks, his worn armour glinting faintly in the dying light. The wind tugged at his cloak, and the sounds of battle echoed in the distance¡ªscreams, clashing steel, and the horrific growls of the corrupted enemy. The air smelled of sweat, blood, and the burn of magic. He gripped his sword tighter, feeling the weight of the moment, the weight of responsibility.


    For years they had fought. Years of battle, loss, and unyielding resistance. The people of Viridara had held their ground, but now, with the hordes of Mortalis surging at their walls, it was clear that this was their final stand. The enemy, once human, had become something else¡ªsomething monstrous. Twisted by dark forces, their physical forms contorted into grotesque shapes, their once-clear eyes now empty, soulless voids. They no longer served the gods. They were no longer men.


    The task had always been clear: protect the sapling of the World Tree, the last living link to Viridara¡¯s lifeblood, the hope of their people. Sir Geld¡¯s heart ached at the thought of the tree¡ªits roots reaching deep into the earth, fragile but vital. If it fell again or was lost to corruption, if the horde breached this last line, the corruption would spread like wildfire, and there would be no turning back.


    "Listen to me!" Sir Geld shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. The soldiers, battered but resolute, gathered around him, forming a tight circle, their eyes locked on his. His gaze swept over them¡ªfaces young and old, faces full of fear, determination, and defiance.


    "We are the last line. The last hope. The tree must be protected at all costs. Do not falter, do not yield, for if we fall, all of Viridara falls with us." His voice boomed, thick with emotion. "We will hold this line, and when the ritual is complete, the barrier will rise. We will block the enemy from reaching the tree. We will stop them here, at the Wall!"


    The soldiers nodded, their swords held high, their spirits kindling in the face of impossible odds. They had one job. One task.


    The Wall.


    A natural chokepoint, flanked by towering mountains on either side. The only way through was the narrow pass that led to the sapling. A perfect place to hold the line¡ªbut also a perfect place to be trapped.


    Sir Geld knew it. They knew it. But retreat was not an option. The ritual to create the barrier had already begun. There was no time to waste. The last of their priest stood on the far side of the pass, chanting the incantations to raise the protective shield, a barrier that would cut off access to the rest of the country. It was their only hope, and if it failed, the forces of Mortalis would sweep through like a flood, devouring everything in their path.


    He turned to face the soldiers again, drawing a deep breath. "Ready yourselves," he ordered, his voice steady now. "When they come, we fight. We fight for the World Tree. We fight for Viridara. And we fight for those who cannot fight for themselves."


    As he spoke, the ground trembled beneath them. A distant roar echoed across the mountains. The horde was closing in, faster than he had hoped. The soldiers braced themselves, their shields raised, their swords poised. The world felt still for a heartbeat, and then¡ªan earth-shattering crash.


    The first wave of corrupted humans surged forward, their monstrous forms blocking out the sky. Sir Geld¡¯s breath caught in his throat as they came, and the battle erupted into chaos. Steel clashed, spells crackled in the air, and the roar of the horde grew louder with each passing second.


    But Sir Geld¡¯s resolve did not waver. He gripped his sword tighter, the weight of his duty pressing down on him like never before. He had sworn to protect the tree, and he would see it done.


    This was the last stand. The final line. And he would hold it with his life if he had to.


    "Hold the line!" he shouted, charging forward into the fray.


    Sir Geld¡¯s Mark of Viridius blazed with fierce power, a radiant green light pulsing beneath his skin as he called upon his gift. Healing surged through him, mending wounds with each breath, allowing him to regenerate from almost any attack. His sword, too, pulsed with the strength of his god, its edge crackling with divine energy as he swung it with deadly precision. But even with the gift of Viridius, even with the power of his guardian god flowing through him, it wasn¡¯t enough.


    The first blow came fast¡ªa spear hurled with brutal force. It took his horse¡¯s legs from beneath it, sending the beast crashing to the ground. Sir Geld was thrown from his mount, landing hard on the stony ground. He rose, shaking off the pain, but the blows kept coming. A war-axe, heavy and vicious, swung for his arm, nearly severing it from his body. His healing powers raced to mend the damage, but it was becoming harder. The power was draining, his Mark flickering with less and less energy.


    He knew this was the end. His time had come. But there was one last thing to do.


    Through the chaos of the battlefield, Sir Geld spotted him¡ªhis squire. No, not a boy, not anymore. A man, barely twenty, yet still a child in many ways. Sir Geld had always known the boy stayed out of loyalty, even when he could have walked away long ago. He was likely the second most skilled warrior on the field today.


    "Run, boy!" Sir Geld shouted, his voice hoarse, as he fended off another attacker, his sword cleaving through flesh with divine force. But the squire hesitated, torn between duty and fear.


    "Go!" Sir Geld¡¯s voice was a command, fierce and final he handed him a small package. "Head east to the temple of the old ones. Take this package to them¡±


    The boy nodded, regret flashing in his eyes, but there was no time to argue. Sir Geld knew the boy would have stayed to the end but he couldn¡¯t allow that. Sir Geld fought his way toward an exit, cutting through the horde of twisted Mortalis soldiers with everything he had left. A final act of protection, to make sure the squire¡ªno, the man¡ªhad a chance to escape.


    The ritual had finished. Sir Geld could feel it¡ªa surge of divine power from near the sapling, a protective barrier rising in the distance. Relief flooded him, and for a moment, he thought he might collapse. The barrier would hold, but the rage of the Mortalis army, now blocked from advancing, erupted in fury. They renewed their attack with savagery, their hatred deepened, and their focus narrowed. They would not leave survivors.


    Sir Geld had the chance to escape. He knew it. He could flee with the squire. But something in him resisted. He was an old man, his body worn, his spirit tired. This was his time. He would face it with the same resolve he had carried through the years.


    With a final, determined glance at his squire, Sir Geld pushed the boy toward a group of soldiers that had managed to break through and were also escaping. The boy ran, a glance over his shoulder as he looked back at his mentor, his protector, one last time. Sir Geld turned and faced the oncoming horde.


    With his sword held high, Sir Geld blocked the path to the escape, his divine gift still flaring with power despite the pain. He had saved the boy. He had fulfilled his duty.


    As the last of his strength bled out, his Mark of Viridius flickering one final time, he whispered to himself, "It is a good death."


    The last of his healing power failed him. His wounds stopped regenerating, the holy light in his body extinguished. Sir Geld fell to the ground, the sound of his final breaths drowned by the battle that raged on around him. The barrier held. His squire was free. And Sir Geld¡ªhe had done his part.

 The Meeting

    Roland ran, his boots pounding against the rocky earth, heart racing as the regret of the moment pressed down on him. His breath came in ragged gasps, but he didn¡¯t dare slow. He couldn¡¯t. He looked back, just once, over his shoulder, as the battle raged on in the distance. His master¡ªSir Geld¡ªlay there, a final barrier between the last remnants of Viridara and the encroaching hordes. The old man¡¯s sword gleamed one last time in the dying light, his body already giving out as the enemy closed in.


    The sight would burn into his memory forever.


    Roland¡¯s chest tightened, but there were no tears, not yet. He¡¯d shed them later, when it was safe. For now, he had to survive. The others had escaped¡ªfellow soldiers who had survived the massacre. They had ditched their armour and weapons in haste, scrambling over the jagged terrain of the mountains that loomed ahead, hoping to climb over the wall and into safety. It was a good plan for them. But it wasn¡¯t his. He had his own mission.


    A final task.


    The package¡ªthe one Sir Geld had trusted him with, the one he had fought to protect¡ªwas clutched tightly against his chest. It was his burden now. Roland''s mind kept circling back to one thing: He had failed his master. Sir Geld had given his life to protect him, and Roland had let him die. The thoughts of that failure crushed him. But if he could deliver the package, if he could fulfill the old man¡¯s final wish¡­ maybe it would be enough.


    Maybe it would be enough to make up for what I¡¯ve lost.


    He glanced over his shoulder again, just in time to see a few of the corrupted soldiers stumbling over the rubble behind him. They had given chase, but in small numbers. They weren¡¯t much of a threat¡ªnot yet. Roland took a moment to steady himself, then turned and bolted into the trees, heading east¡ªalways east. He didn¡¯t know what lay ahead, only that he had to keep moving. The mountains would come later, after the mission was complete. The temple of the Old One was his true goal.


    From time to time, Roland paused. A grunt or a growl would reach his ears, and he would find the corrupted soldiers trailing behind. They weren¡¯t fast, not like the soldiers he had fought with. They were sluggish, their bodies twisted by the dark power that had corrupted them. It didn¡¯t take much to deal with them¡ªone quick swing of his sword, and they were down. But he didn¡¯t waste any time. He couldn¡¯t. He had to keep moving.


    Each step forward felt like a small defiance against the world that had fallen apart. Each breath in his lungs felt like a victory, even if it was fleeting.


    Roland ran, east, and the wind carried away the echo of Sir Geld¡¯s sacrifice behind him. He had a long road ahead.


    Roland slowed his pace as the land around him shifted. The chase had ended. The corrupted, their foul presence only lingering for a short while, had given up. It was as though the land itself had repelled them. There was an eerie stillness here, a sense of quiet that hung heavily in the air. The wind didn¡¯t rustle the trees, and the faintest echo of his footsteps seemed to swallow itself in the dense silence. It was almost unnatural.


    He had arrived at the outskirts of the temple of the Old One, though he couldn¡¯t help but pause and take in the land around him. This used to be a city, a place of life and light¡ªa city of the Lifeborn. But now, it was abandoned, desolate, untouched by the world outside. The air was thick with a heavy, solemn kind of peace, yet beneath it, a dark shadow clung. The corrupted wouldn¡¯t dare come near. Something in this land kept them at bay, something ancient and dangerous.


    It was the ruins of a home¡ªa sanctuary. Roland¡¯s eyes fell on the remnants of what had once been grand structures, now overgrown with creeping vines and twisted stone. It was here that the Lifeborn had once thrived, a shining example of vitality, of growth. But that was before.


    There were whispers. Rumours that a colossal still roamed these lands, lurking beneath the surface of the broken city. A remnant from the last Veil Keeper war, a creature of terror, bred specifically to hunt and destroy. A massive, towering beast, trained in the art of killing the Motherborn. Roland shook his head, banishing the thought. The colossal would never find him¡ªat least, not yet. The temple was his destination, the place where he could finally rest and recharge.


    He couldn¡¯t go on much longer without rest. The weight of the mission, the loss of his master, the burden of carrying the package¡ªit was all too much. His body ached, and his mind was exhausted. But more pressing than his fatigue was the need to pray, to recharge his mark, and call upon Mortana.


    As one of the rare Viridarians who followed Mortana, the Gentle Ender, Roland¡¯s gift wasn¡¯t as outwardly powerful as others. He couldn¡¯t command the elements or summon great displays of divine power like some of his kin. His gift was quieter, subtler. His gift was the ability to see the soul of a person, to help those who were dying cross over into the afterlife. He could guide their spirits, ease their suffering, and give them peace in their final moments.


    But that was not the reason he had sought Mortana¡¯s mark in the first place.


    No. Roland had been foolish. He had hoped, prayed in his youth, that by bearing Mortana¡¯s gift, he could bring his mother back. His heart had been filled with that naive hope, that foolish desire to undo what had been taken from him. But only the gods had that power¡ªand only for the Motherborn. He knew it now. He had learned that lesson painfully, slowly, as the years went on. There was no resurrection for him. Not for mortals like him.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    And yet, even now, with the knowledge of the truth on his shoulders, Roland could not abandon his faith. The gods had their purposes, and Mortana¡¯s was clear. He had a duty. A mission. And it was time to perform it. He would make sure that people passing was as peaceful as possible.


    The wind stirred slightly as Roland approached the crumbling temple. The silence was broken only by the soft scrape of his boots against the stone. The old temple still stood, though it had weathered countless years and battles. He reached out, placing a hand against its ancient walls, feeling the pulse of the land beneath his fingertips. A long breath filled his lungs, and he began to pray.


    His voice was low, but steady. The words were familiar, a litany of devotion to Mortana, to the Goddess of Endings, to guide him and keep him strong in the days ahead. Roland knelt before the altar, closing his eyes. His prayer, a quiet plea, echoed in the still air.


    Roland felt the surge of power flow through him as his mark recharged, the divine energy from Mortana filling him with a sense of strength he hadn¡¯t realized he was missing. His body ached from the journey, but with each breath, he regained a little more of what he had lost. He needed rest, but the sound of something stirring behind him broke his focus.


    Turning quickly, his hand instinctively gripped the hilt of his sword. What he saw nearly made his heart stop.


    The head of a creature, the largest he had ever seen, emerged from the shadows. It was like a dog, but pure white, with an elongated snout and glowing eyes that seemed to pierce through the darkened ruins. The creature¡¯s massive form was almost otherworldly, its muscles rippling beneath its fur as it slowly padded forward. Roland¡¯s breath caught in his throat, unsure of what to do. The creature was clearly no ordinary beast¡ªits presence alone was enough to make his blood run cold. The head alone was the size of a house, he didn¡¯t know living creatures could get so large.


    But it didn¡¯t attack. Instead, it stopped a few paces away, sniffing the air, its nostrils flaring as if it were assessing him. Roland held his ground, his heart pounding in his chest. Was it waiting for something? Or was it simply watching him, sizing him up? The tension in the air thickened, and for a moment, Roland thought he might have to fight for his life.


    Then, to his shock, the creature didn¡¯t lunge at him. Instead, it tilted its head, almost as if curious. Roland remained frozen, his gaze flicking between the creature and the shadows where it had emerged. That¡¯s when he saw her.


    From behind the creature¡¯s towering head, a figure slowly stepped forward. At first, it was just a flash of blue¡ªa shimmer in the moonlight. But as she stepped into full view, Roland¡¯s breath caught in his throat.


    She was a woman, but unlike any human he had known. Her skin was a deep blue, covered in shimmering scales that seemed to catch the light with every movement. Instead of hair, her head was covered in hundreds of scales. She was tall, regal even, with an ethereal presence that radiated from her. Roland¡¯s mind raced¡ªthis wasn¡¯t a dream. This wasn¡¯t some trick of the shadows.


    It was a Lifeborn.


    He had heard of them in stories¡ªcreatures of myth and legend, thought to have all but disappeared. He had believed them gone, wiped from the world with the fall of their cities. But here she was, real and standing before him.


    The creature, still at her side, continued to sniff him, its massive nose hovering just inches from his chest. Roland¡¯s heart pounded in his ears, unsure of what to do, but the Lifeborn seemed to smile as she observed him.


    ¡°Not corrupted!¡± she said brightly, as though meeting someone new was the most exciting thing in the world. ¡°Good! That¡¯s a relief!¡±


    Roland blinked, thrown off guard by her cheerful tone, and slowly lowered his sword. The Lifeborn grinned at him, her eyes twinkling like the brightest stars. ¡°I¡¯m Celeste!¡± she said with a wide smile, her voice bubbly and full of life. ¡°And this¡ª¡± she gestured to the massive white creature at her side, who gave a playful whuff, ¡°¡ªthis is Fang! He¡¯s a big softie, really, as long as you¡¯re not corrupted!¡±


    Roland was still processing her presence. He had heard about the Lifeborn in the old stories, but none of them had ever described one like this. She was so¡­ alive. Her energy was infectious, her movements graceful, yet lighthearted.


    ¡°I, uh¡­¡± Roland stumbled over his words, unsure of what to say. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to meet someone like you.¡±


    Celeste laughed, the sound light and melodic. ¡°Oh, you¡¯ll find that there¡¯s a lot of surprises left in this world, Roland!¡± She winked. ¡°I¡¯m guessing you¡¯re the one who¡¯s been trusted with the package? Sir Geld¡¯s package?¡± Her expression softened as she spoke his name, but then her smile quickly returned, brighter than ever.


    Roland nodded, feeling a strange mix of relief and confusion. He was unsure how she knew his name. ¡°I¡­ Yes. It¡¯s for you, I suppose.¡±


    With a quiet, steady nod, Celeste took the bundle from him. Her hands were gentle as she unwrapped it, each movement careful and deliberate. When the cloth fell away, revealing the badge inside, her expression shifted. For a brief moment, her smile disappeared, replaced by a look of solemn understanding. She studied the badge closely, her eyes softening with a quiet recognition.


    ¡°So it¡¯s true,¡± she murmured to herself. Then, glancing up at Roland, she added, ¡°He¡¯s really gone, isn¡¯t he?¡±


    Roland¡¯s heart tightened in his chest, but before he could respond, Celeste¡¯s expression brightened again, as if to shake off the momentary sadness. ¡°Well, if you didn¡¯t have this badge, Fang would have definitely given you a rough time,¡± she explained, her voice returning to its usual cheerful tone. ¡°This badge is like a secret passcode, you know? Without it, Fang is very particular about who he lets near here. He¡¯s kind of like a guardian... or a giant teddy bear. Depends on the day.¡±


    Roland remained stoic, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed her words. "I see," he said, his tone flat, betraying none of the surprise or relief he might have felt. "I¡¯m glad I passed the test." His gaze lingered on the creature beside her, a silent acknowledgment of the danger it represented.


    Celeste laughed again, the sound ringing like a bell. ¡°Oh, no worries, you¡¯re safe. For now,¡± she teased, her eyes sparkling. ¡°Now that we¡¯ve got that sorted out, we¡¯ve got bigger things to think about, don¡¯t we?¡±


    Roland nodded slowly, trying to process everything that had just happened. ¡°I guess so. What now?¡±


    Celeste¡¯s expression shifted, growing more serious as she met Roland¡¯s gaze. ¡°My Mother, Viridius, has given me a mission,¡± she said, her voice steady and resolute. ¡°Since Sir Geld is no longer able to fulfill his part, it seems you will have to take up the mantle.¡± She paused, her eyes searching his face for any sign of hesitation. ¡°I can¡¯t do this alone, Roland. I need your help.¡±


    She took a breath, and her features softened again, though the determination never left her voice. ¡°Together, we¡¯ll make sure the corruption doesn¡¯t spread any further. We¡¯ll close the Veil gates, no matter what it takes.¡±

 The Oath

    Celeste watched as Fang bounded off into the distance, his massive white form disappearing into the wilderness with surprising speed. She gave a soft, satisfied hum before turning back to Roland.


    "Come on," she said with a warm smile, gesturing toward the entrance of the temple. "Let''s get inside. You must be exhausted, and I think we need to talk."


    Roland followed her, his mind still reeling from everything that had happened so quickly. As they entered the cool, quiet interior of the temple, Celeste motioned for him to sit. The place was sparse, yet there was a strange sense of peace that lingered in the air¡ªancient stone walls, weathered and worn by time, still stood strong, and faint light from the outside filtered through cracked windows.


    Celeste took a seat across from him, her eyes glinting with curiosity. "You¡¯ve had a long day, haven¡¯t you?" she said, her voice a soft melody. "But I think there¡¯s something we need to clear up first."


    Roland said nothing, but his gaze was sharp, his mind focused. He knew he needed answers¡ªand soon.


    Celeste tilted her head as she leaned closer, her expression becoming more serious. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re curious about why Sir Geld gave you that badge.¡± She glanced down at the item still clutched in Roland¡¯s hand. ¡°It¡¯s not just some keepsake. It¡¯s a Veil Keeper¡¯s badge.¡±


    Roland frowned, confused. ¡°A Veil Keeper¡¯s badge?¡±


    Celeste nodded, the edges of her lips curling into a knowing smile. "Yes. Veil Keepers are people who control access to the Veil. They are the guardians of the gates between this world and the others. They can open or close the Veil, but for reasons we will talk about once you take the oath they can only do so if they have both a Motherborn and a Worldborn working together." She paused, her eyes studying him intently. "That''s where you come in."


    Roland¡¯s brow furrowed, the weight of her words pressing on him. ¡°And why would Sir Geld have given this to me?¡±


    Celeste leaned back, folding her arms as she regarded him carefully. "Because, Roland, he trusted you." Her gaze softened. "He didn¡¯t just give anyone that badge. Only someone he believed in would be worthy of it. He told me himself, that if he couldn¡¯t make it you¡¯re the one he trusted most."


    Roland stayed silent, but the confusion lingered. ¡°I don¡¯t understand. I¡¯m not a Veil Keeper. I¡¯m just¡­ a knight. A soldier.¡±


    Celeste''s laugh was light, almost musical, but there was a deeper, more serious edge to it. "You think being a soldier means you''re not worthy of this? No, Roland. It means you''re already on the path. It means that even if you didn¡¯t ask for this, you were chosen by fate."


    Before Roland could respond, she gave a playful tilt of her head. ¡°But if you¡¯re going to keep poking around with that ¡®gift¡¯ of yours, you might want to warn me next time.¡±


    Roland blinked, not understanding.


    "I¡¯m talking about your ability to see souls," Celeste clarified, her smile now teasing. "You were staring at mine like I was some kind of specimen. I know you didn¡¯t mean any harm, but it¡¯s a little rude, don¡¯t you think?" Her tone was light, but her eyes held a quiet seriousness. ¡°Some Motherborn might not take kindly to it.¡±


    Roland''s cheeks flushed ever so slightly at the reprimand. He hadn¡¯t meant to be disrespectful, but he couldn¡¯t help himself. His gift was powerful, but it was also invasive, and sometimes he couldn¡¯t control the impulse to understand what lay beneath the surface. He hadn¡¯t discovered much. Her soul was nearly blinding but contained some cracks as well. He had never seen anything like it but he wasn¡¯t sure if that was normal for Motherborns or unique to Celeste.


    Celeste noticed his discomfort and smiled warmly, easing the tension. ¡°It¡¯s alright, Roland. Just be mindful of it next time. It¡¯s a sensitive thing, especially when you¡¯re dealing with others of my kind.¡±


    With a quick motion, she reached for a nearby table and retrieved a small flask. She poured two cups of a warm, amber liquid and handed one to Roland. ¡°Here, this should help you relax. I know it¡¯s been a lot to take in.¡±


    He took the cup, the warmth spreading through his fingers as he held it. The liquid had a subtle, earthy taste, calming his nerves. Celeste watched him take a sip before continuing.


    ¡°As for the badge,¡± she said, more serious now, ¡°It¡¯s not just a symbol of trust from Sir Geld. It means something else. You see, the Veil Keepers are a rare group, chosen to control the gates between worlds. The gods take this role very seriously. They require you to bet your life on it¡±This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Roland listened intently, his gaze unwavering. This was the heart of it¡ªthe true nature of the task ahead.


    Celeste¡¯s voice softened with a touch of nostalgia. ¡°I worked with Sir Geld when he was younger. He was one of my mother¡¯s favourites, you know. He had a unique bond with her, a connection that made him invaluable to the cause. But that was a long time ago. Now, it seems his part in this has come to an end.¡± Their eyes met; the gravity of the situation became apparent. ¡°And now, Roland, it¡¯s your turn. It¡¯s up to you.¡±


    Roland set his cup down, his mind racing. The implications of everything she said were vast, and his role in it all felt heavier by the moment. He had come here to deliver a simple package, to carry out a final duty for Sir Geld. But now, the world seemed to have grown much larger.


    Celeste¡¯s expression shifted as she glanced at Roland, her tone becoming more serious once again. ¡°Before we can go any further,¡± she said, standing up and walking toward the door, ¡°you¡¯ll need to bind with the badge. You can¡¯t move forward without it. It¡¯s part of the process. You¡¯ll have to swear an Oath to your guardian god. Mortana, in your case.¡±


    Roland frowned, but he didn¡¯t question her. He had learned by now that the path he was on was fraught with steps he didn¡¯t fully understand, and this was just another one.


    Celeste paused at the door, her hand resting on the frame as she glanced back at him. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you what the Oath will be,¡± she continued, her voice softer. ¡°It¡¯s unique for every Keeper. It¡¯s a private moment¡ªyour moment. Just ask for Mortana¡¯s help, and she¡¯ll guide you. You¡¯ll know when the time comes.¡±


    With a final, reassuring smile, she left the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.


    Roland sat still for a moment, alone in the quiet space. He wasn¡¯t sure what to expect, but he knew the ritual was important. He reached down, carefully picking up the badge Sir Geld had entrusted to him, the weight of it still heavy in his hands.


    He set the badge on the table before him, the flickering light from the temple¡¯s small fire casting long shadows across the room. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, centering himself. This wasn¡¯t just about the mission. It was about more than that. It was about an Oath¡ªa promise he would make, a bond with Mortana herself.


    He whispered softly to the stillness, his voice steady despite the doubt that swirled in his chest. ¡°Mortana, goddess of endings, I ask for your guidance. Help me now, as I bind myself to this cause.¡±


    A strange stillness settled around him, and Roland felt a subtle shift in the air. It wasn¡¯t a voice, but something deeper, something more intimate. He began to see images in his mind¡¯s eye¡ªvisions, like pictures unfolding before him.


    The images came fast and brutal, flashing like memories from another time. He saw battles¡ªvast, horrific clashes that felt older than the earth itself. Motherborn of all types¡ªLightborn, Darkborn, Lifeborn¡ªlocked in combat with one another, their powers clashing like titanic storms. And then there were the colossal monsters, enormous and terrifying, tearing through the battlefield with destructive force. Roland felt his heart race as the images shifted¡ªmore battles, more carnage, more conflict.


    The message was clear: The Veil had once been used for war. The Keepers had failed, wielding their power recklessly. The same power he was about to inherit.


    His mind struggled to comprehend the full weight of the vision, but the core of it was undeniable: His Oath had to be about something different. It couldn¡¯t be about war or power or destruction. It had to be about peace. It had to be about ensuring that the power of the Veil, and the abilities it granted, would never again be used to tear the world apart.


    He swallowed hard, the images still vivid in his mind. He understood now what his Oath would be. His skills were not for aggression. They were for guiding those who needed peace¡ªfor ensuring that the Veil was closed to violence and opened only when necessary. For bringing peaceful passage to those whose time had come, just as Mortana herself had always done.


    With a deep breath, Roland closed his eyes and steadied his mind. The magnitude of the moment wasn¡¯t lost on him, and he knew the words he was about to swear would bind him to a path he could not walk back from. This Oath was not just a promise; it was a covenant that would define the rest of his life. He knew that failure to live up to the Oath would lead to his death.


    He spoke the words in his heart, not needing to voice them aloud, for they echoed in his soul as if they had always been there, waiting for him to accept them.


    "I swear, Mortana, to use the power entrusted to me only in pursuit of peace. I will open the Veil only to those who seek harmony, and I will bar its path to any who would use it for war, for destruction, or for chaos. I will keep the secrets of the Veil from those who have not sworn the Oath of the Keepers, for its knowledge is not for the unworthy. I will guard it with my strength, my will, and my heart. And I will ensure that no corruption ever again finds its way through the gates.¡±


    His heart thudded in his chest, and the words of the Oath sank deep into his very being. The image of the battles, the colossal monsters, the broken Keepers of the past¡ªeverything he had seen¡ªseemed to settle inside him, part of him now. He knew it was not enough to just say the words. He had to live them.


    Roland opened his eyes slowly, feeling a shift within him, as if the Oath had truly taken root in his soul. It was more than a promise. It was the foundation of everything that would follow. And he knew, without a shadow of doubt, that his path was now set in stone.


    He looked around, a faint dizziness creeping in as he tried to shake off the intensity of the experience. His body still felt heavy, like he had run for miles in a dream. He turned toward the table, reaching for the drink Celeste had given him earlier, desperate for something to steady himself.


    The amber liquid burned as it went down, but it helped. His mind was still racing, trying to make sense of everything he had just seen and felt. The weight of the Oath settled into his chest, a responsibility he could no longer deny.


    Roland sat back, staring at the badge before him. It was no longer just a symbol of Sir Geld¡¯s trust. It was a part of him now¡ªa part of the oath he had sworn, of the path he was bound to walk.


    And with it, his future had been set into motion.

 The First Lesson

    Roland awoke with a start, gasping for air as his heart hammered in his chest. The dream had felt so real¡ªtoo real. The clash of steel still echoed in his ears, accompanied by the monstrous growls of the colossal beasts. Sir Geld¡¯s face hovered in his mind, his final moments replaying like a cruel echo. The old knight¡¯s sacrifice, the look of calm acceptance before the end¡ªRoland couldn¡¯t escape it. Each time he closed his eyes, the battlefield returned with vivid clarity: blood-soaked earth, the crackle of dying magic, and Sir Geld¡¯s broken body.


    He lay there, drenched in sweat, the sting of helplessness gnawing at him. The nightmare faded, leaving behind only the heavy ache of loss. Roland¡¯s breath steadied as his mind sought a shred of peace, but the restlessness remained.


    Minutes passed before he drifted into a fitful sleep. This time, the dream changed. He saw the Veil itself¡ªvast, dark, broken. Through its fractures, colossal creatures emerged, monstrous and wild, locked in savage combat. They were titans of flesh and power, their roars like earthquakes.


    One beast, larger than the others, moved like a living mountain. Its limbs, thick as castle towers, swung with devastating force. The ground cracked beneath its steps. Opposing it stood figures of shimmering light¡ªLightborn, Lifeborn, and Starborn¡ªdefenders of the Veil. Divine energy crackled through the air as they fought with grace and ferocity. Bolts of radiant power lanced the colossal¡¯s hide, but it kept coming. Claws ripped through enchanted armor; bodies fell.


    The screams lingered in Roland¡¯s mind, sharp and unyielding. The battle seemed endless¡ªa reminder of the price of broken Veil Keeper oaths.


    As the dream threatened to consume him, a voice pierced the chaos.


    "Roland."


    His eyes snapped open. The room blurred as he gasped for breath, every muscle taut. It took a moment to orient himself. The temple¡¯s brazier crackled softly nearby. Celeste stood beside him, hand on his shoulder, her brow furrowed.


    "You were screaming," she said softly, her voice a steady anchor in the storm. "Are you alright?"


    Roland swallowed, his throat dry. "The battle," he rasped. "The colossal monsters¡­ they were tearing through the Veil like the world was coming apart."


    Celeste¡¯s eyes darkened with recognition. "Solarium Crossing," she murmured. "I remember that battle."


    "What was it?" Roland asked, sitting up. "What happened there?"


    Celeste folded her legs beneath her, settling opposite him. The fire¡¯s light cast flickering shadows across her blue-scaled skin. "The battle you saw was the final clash of the Veil Keeper Wars. Solarium Crossing was supposed to be the Shadowborn¡¯s last stand against the Lightborn and their allies. But... something went terribly wrong."


    Roland leaned forward, muscles tense. "What went wrong?"


    "The Shadowborn tried to shut down the primary Veil entrance to Solarium," she explained. "It was their only hope of stopping reinforcements. If they''d succeeded, Solarium would have fallen, and the war would have turned in their favour."


    Her hand traced the cold stone table. "But as they activated the Veil Gate, something¡­ happened. We still don¡¯t know why. The colossal guardians¡ªthose titanic creatures you saw¡ªlost control. All of them."


    Roland¡¯s breath caught. "On both sides?"


    Celeste nodded grimly. "Yes. Shadowborn colossals, Lightborn colossals¡ªit didn¡¯t matter. They all went feral. The gods themselves couldn¡¯t reach them. One moment, they were divine instruments of war. The next... mindless forces of destruction."


    The memory flickered in her eyes. "We fought to stop them. The Lightborn, Lifeborn, and Starborn combined their strength to bring the colossals down. But the cost was unbearable. Entire legions were annihilated. In the end, the Lightborn sacrificed many of their own to end the chaos. We won, but it wasn¡¯t victory. It was survival."


    The room fell into heavy silence.


    "What happened afterward?" Roland asked.


    "The war ended," Celeste replied. "Neither side had the strength to continue. The remaining Lightborn, Lifeborn, and Starborn retreated to their homeworlds. The surviving colossals, like Fang, hid in forgotten places or within the Veil itself. The gods sealed the gates to Solarium and imposed new restrictions on the Veil Keepers."


    Roland ran his thumb over the Veil Keeper badge. "So there are more colossals out there?"


    "Yes," Celeste said. "Fang is just a baby. The others¡ªsome are dormant. Some never regained their minds. And some were corrupted beyond saving. If one of those corrupted colossals ever broke free, they could rip open the Veil and reignite the war."


    Roland¡¯s jaw tightened. The memory of the dream, of the colossal¡¯s relentless power, clawed at his resolve. "And I¡¯m supposed to help stop that."Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    "Yes." Celeste¡¯s voice softened. "You¡¯ve sworn your Oath. When you grow stronger, you¡¯ll step into the Veil proper. Only then will you understand its true nature¡ªand the forces that want to control it again."


    After breakfast, Roland followed Celeste through the temple¡¯s winding halls, his footsteps echoing softly against the stone. The air grew cooler as they descended a narrow passageway lit by faintly glowing vines that pulsed with a gentle green light.


    Celeste led the way, her steps confident. "This passage goes deep beneath the temple," she explained without turning around. "It was carved centuries ago, back when the Veil Keepers were still active here."


    Roland¡¯s eyes traced the intricate patterns on the walls¡ªetched symbols that seemed to shift and shimmer in the dim light. "And where exactly are we going?" he asked.


    "You¡¯ll see soon enough," Celeste said with a playful smile.


    The passage opened into a vast chamber, dominated by an enormous gate embedded in the far wall. It stood easily three stories high, covered in twisting roots of stone and metal. Strange symbols adorned its surface, forming an intricate pattern that seemed to pulse faintly in time with Roland¡¯s own heartbeat.


    "This," Celeste said, gesturing toward the gate, "is the primary entry to Viridara through the Veil. Fang has been assigned to guard it."


    Roland took a cautious step forward, the gate''s sheer presence pressing against his senses. "It¡¯s... massive, how does Fang get down here?" he murmured.


    "There is another tunnel but I¡¯ve kept it closed for today," Celeste replied, folding her arms. "Normally, this gate stays sealed. But today, we¡¯re going to unseal it¡ªjust a crack¡ªand you¡¯ll step into the Veil for the first time."


    Roland¡¯s stomach tightened. "The Veil?" He glanced toward the gate, which suddenly seemed more ominous than majestic. "Are you sure I¡¯m ready?"


    Celeste¡¯s smile softened. "We won¡¯t go more than a hundred meters in. It¡¯s perfectly safe. Today isn¡¯t about exploring. It¡¯s about learning how to open and close the gate. That¡¯s step one for any Veil Keeper."


    Roland exhaled slowly, his gaze returning to the swirling symbols on the gate. "So¡­ how do we do it?"


    "With a prayer," Celeste said, stepping beside him. "Not to the gods, but to the Mother tree and the World tree."


    Roland¡¯s brow furrowed. "I thought the gods governed the Veil."


    "They influence it," Celeste explained, "but the Veil itself comes from the roots of the World trees. The Mother tree, who birthed the Motherborn, and the World tree, who created the Worldborn. They are ancient, powerful forces¡ªand very particular about who they listen to."  She said with a cheeky smile.


    She placed her hand on the gate. "The Mother tree will only answer a Motherborn¡¯s call, as she distrusts the Worldborn. The World tree listens only to Worldborn, wary of us. That¡¯s why Veil Keepers always work in pairs¡ªone from each lineage."


    Roland hesitated, then placed his hand beside hers. "So, you pray?"


    "Yes," Celeste said softly. "Follow my lead."


    Her voice dropped into a melodic cadence as she began to speak:


    "Mother of roots, keeper of life, Open the path through shadow and strife. By bond of seed and ancient vow, We seek your grace before you now."


    The roots on the gate shifted slightly, as if responding to the words. Roland felt the air grow denser, the pulse beneath his palm quickening.


    Celeste nodded at him. "Now you must call to the World tree. Speak from the heart."


    Roland swallowed hard and took a shaky breath. His voice was hesitant at first, but he spoke:


    "Guardian of bark, eternal guide, Open the gate, let worlds collide. By mortal voice and given right, We seek your passage through the night."


    The symbols on the gate flared with blinding light. The roots unfurled, twisting aside like the opening of an ancient eye. A narrow crack appeared down the center, and the space beyond shimmered with an otherworldly haze.


    Celeste¡¯s hand squeezed his shoulder. "Well done," she whispered. "The Veil has heard you."


    Roland stared into the swirling mist beyond the gate.


    He stepped through the crack in the gate, and the world shifted around him. The air changed first¡ªthicker, electric, buzzing with an unseen force that made his skin tingle. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dim, ethereal glow of the Veil.


    He stood in a vast tunnel, but it wasn¡¯t like any tunnel he¡¯d seen before. The walls were translucent, shimmering like glass but pulsing faintly as though alive. Beyond them, stars stretched endlessly across a black expanse. They were brighter than in his dreams¡ªsharper, more vibrant, each one radiating a different kind of energy.


    He reached out, his fingers grazing the surface of the wall. The Veil¡¯s energy hummed beneath his touch, resonating with his mark. Breathing here felt different; every inhalation filled his lungs with a vitality he couldn¡¯t describe. His exhaustion evaporated. His senses sharpened. The world seemed...more.


    Celeste stood beside him, her expression unreadable as she let him absorb the moment. After a long silence, she said softly, ¡°Be careful. It¡¯s easy to get Veil drunk.¡±


    Roland tore his gaze away from the stars. ¡°Veil drunk?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°The Veil radiates divine energy. It feels incredible, but it¡¯s deceptive. If you linger too long, you lose your grip on reality. The energy will flood your body and mind, and you''ll forget where you came from.¡± Her eyes met his. ¡°It¡¯s like drowning in sunlight.¡±


    Roland gave a slow nod, the weight of her warning sinking in. He already felt the Veil tugging at him, whispering of endless possibilities.


    Celeste placed a hand on his shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s enough for today. Let¡¯s head back before it pulls you in.¡±


    They turned toward the gate, its crack still shimmering like a wound in the tunnel. Celeste took a steadying breath and placed her hand on the surface.


    Her voice, clear and melodic, resonated through the air:


    "Mother of roots, who grants the way,


    Now close the path, end light of day.


    Veil of power, sealed and tight,


    Return to shadow, hide from sight."


    The roots responded immediately, writhing like serpents as they slithered back into place. The light of the crack dimmed slightly, but it didn¡¯t close entirely.


    Celeste glanced at Roland. ¡°Now you.¡±


    He mirrored her posture, placing his palm on the cool surface. The energy leapt beneath his hand, eager, waiting.


    He spoke, voice low but sure:


    "Guardian of bark, eternal shield,


    Let now the ancient gate be sealed.


    By mortal voice, by chosen key,


    Lock this path and let it be."


    The gate groaned as the roots fully reconnected, the crack vanishing as though it had never been there. The Veil¡¯s hum dulled to a faint whisper, leaving the chamber in heavy, sacred silence.


    Roland exhaled slowly, the weight of the experience settling on his shoulders.


    Celeste smiled softly. ¡°Well done, Keeper. The Veil knows you now.¡±

 Team Training

    The day didn¡¯t improve for Roland after his first encounter with the Veil. His mind still buzzed with the memory of that shimmering tunnel, the stars beyond the walls, and the intoxicating energy that filled every breath. Even after lunch, his thoughts lingered on that otherworldly place. But Celeste had promised the day was far from over¡ªand she hadn''t been joking.


    The first sign came when Fang returned.


    Roland heard the colossal creature long before it appeared, the rhythmic thud of its footsteps reverberating through the ground like distant drumbeats. When Fang finally emerged from the forest, jaws clamped around the neck of a massive, shaggy beast, Roland''s eyes widened.


    ¡°A vorbear,¡± Celeste said, sounding more amused than surprised. ¡°Good boy, Fang.¡±


    The creature dangled limply from Fang''s maw¡ªa brute of a beast with thick, bristling fur and curved tusks protruding from its lower jaw. Even lifeless, it exuded a primal ferocity. Roland knew of vorbears by reputation: apex predators, territorial and aggressive. But seeing one up close drove the stories home.


    ¡°So...that¡¯s lunch?¡± Roland asked, half-hoping for an easy afternoon.


    Celeste laughed, the sound light and musical. ¡°Lunch? No, Roland. That¡¯s your sparring partner.¡±


    His head snapped toward her. ¡°You want me to fight that?¡±


    ¡°Not just you. Me, too.¡± Celeste grinned. ¡°We need to practice working together in battle, and vorbears make perfect training dummies.¡±


    Roland frowned. ¡°Dummies? That thing looks like it could tear a tree in half.¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± she said, unfazed. ¡°They¡¯re strong, unpredictable, and relentless. Everything a Veil Keeper needs to get used to.¡±


    Roland shifted uncomfortably as Fang dropped the beast on the ground with a heavy thud. His gift stirred, unbidden, as his eyes fell on the creature. Despite its unconscious state, he felt it¡ªan undeniable presence beneath the coarse fur. The vorbear¡¯s soul flickered faintly, like a stubborn ember refusing to die out.


    ¡°It has a soul,¡± Roland said softly.


    Celeste¡¯s expression lost its usual levity. ¡°Of course it does.¡±


    ¡°But we¡¯re just going to beat it senseless for practice?¡±


    The words sounded harsher aloud than he''d intended, but the thought weighed on him. Mortana''s gift let him see souls, glimpse the essence of what made something living. The vorbear wasn¡¯t some mindless monster; it was something more.


    To his surprise, Celeste didn¡¯t dismiss his concern with a laugh. Instead, she knelt beside the beast and ran a hand through its thick fur. ¡°I didn¡¯t choose this creature by accident, Roland.¡± Her voice was gentle but firm. ¡°Vorbears originally came from Pyralith. Their ancestors lived alongside the Flameborn. They were bred to crave the fight, to thrive in battle.¡±


    Roland swallowed. ¡°So...it likes getting beaten up?¡±


    ¡°Not exactly.¡± Celeste smiled faintly. ¡°It will fight us with everything it has. Not because we force it to, but because it can¡¯t resist the challenge. We¡¯ll push it. It¡¯ll push us back. That¡¯s the nature of battle for creatures like this.¡±


    Roland didn¡¯t reply immediately. He crouched beside the sleeping beast, hand hovering over its fur. His gift stirred again, brushing against the vorbear¡¯s soul. Beneath the flickering life force, he felt something else: anticipation, a sharp, restless hunger.


    ¡°It¡¯s...waiting,¡± he said, brow furrowing. ¡°It knows what¡¯s coming.¡±


    Celeste nodded. ¡°It¡¯s a creature of Pyralith. Flameborn creations live for transformation through struggle. This vorbear will either grow stronger today¡ªor it will yield. Either way, it understands the game.¡±


    Roland exhaled, the knot of guilt easing slightly. The beast wasn¡¯t a victim; it was a participant. Still, he couldn¡¯t shake the sense that today¡¯s lesson would be more painful than any of his past lessons.


    Celeste stood and cracked her knuckles. ¡°Come on, Roland. Let¡¯s wake our new friend up.¡±


    Roland rose with a sigh. The vorbear stirred beneath Fang¡¯s watchful gaze, muscles twitching as consciousness returned. The battle hadn¡¯t started yet, but Roland already felt like he was stepping into a storm.


    The afternoon unfolded with bruises, curses, and more than a few close calls.


    Roland lunged forward, sword raised, but Celeste darted in front of him at the last second, blocking his path. His momentum carried him too far, and his swing went wide. The vorbear¡ªnow fully awake and very unhappy¡ªsidestepped the blade and slammed into Roland¡¯s side with bone-rattling force. He hit the ground hard, the air driven from his lungs.


    ¡°Sorry!¡± Celeste called as she dodged the creature¡¯s next swipe. ¡°You were too slow!¡±


    Roland groaned and rolled to his feet. ¡°Maybe you were too fast,¡± he muttered, though he knew she was right.


    The vorbear paced a few steps away, its dark eyes fixed on them both with wary amusement. It was playing with them. Roland could feel the creature¡¯s anticipation¡ªa sharp, crackling hunger for the challenge. The harder they fought, the more the vorbear seemed to enjoy itself.


    Celeste sidled closer to Roland, her breath steady despite hours of exertion. ¡°We need to stop tripping over each other,¡± she said.


    ¡°You don¡¯t say.¡±


    She smiled, unbothered by his sarcasm. "Let''s try again. I''ll soften it up with some poison prayers and buff your strength. You go in for the legs."


    "Poison prayers? I thought you were a healer."


    Celeste¡¯s eyes twinkled with mischief. "Healing and poison are two sides of the same coin. One mends, the other breaks. Both come from the same well." She extended her hand, and a faint green light coiled around her fingers. "Trust me."The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    He gave a reluctant nod.


    Celeste turned toward the vorbear and began to chant, her voice flowing like water:


    "Sap of root, venom¡¯s grace,


    Weave the toxin, slow the chase.


    From lifeblood¡¯s thread, strike unseen,


    With nature¡¯s wrath, sharp and keen."


    The green light leapt from her hand, twisting through the air like a living thing. It struck the vorbear¡¯s flank. The beast snarled and shook itself, muscles stiffening as the poison took hold.


    "Go now!" Celeste barked.


    Roland charged, feeling a sudden warmth rush through his veins as Celeste whispered another incantation:


    "Strength of oak, unyielding might,


    Lend this blade relentless fight."


    The moment the words left her lips, Roland¡¯s body surged with power. His muscles responded faster, his balance steadier. The sword in his hand felt weightless.


    He aimed low, swinging for the vorbear¡¯s legs. The beast tried to dodge, but the poison slowed its movements just enough. The blade struck true, forcing the creature to one knee.


    "Yes!" Roland shouted.


    But the triumph was short-lived. The vorbear roared, digging its tusks into the ground for leverage. With a mighty heave, it wrenched itself upright, knocking Roland back once more. He landed in a heap beside Celeste.


    "Well, that worked better than last time," Celeste said, panting.


    "Only because it didn''t kill us," Roland replied.


    The vorbear shook itself again, its breath labored but its eyes still sharp. Then, with a deep huff, it turned and lumbered toward the forest. They didn¡¯t pursue it.


    Celeste sat up and wiped sweat from her brow. "That means it¡¯s done."


    "Good for it," Roland said, lying flat on his back. "I¡¯m also done, I think it won this round¡±


    Celeste laughed, the sound bright and unbothered despite the hours of battle. "You''re not wrong. But next time, we¡¯ll move as one."


    Roland closed his eyes, the memory of Celeste''s prayers still whispering through his mind. Two sides of a single coin, she¡¯d said. He wondered what else he''d need to learn before he felt like anything more than a simple knight standing in a world far bigger than he''d ever imagined.


    The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the training ground as Roland and Celeste sat on the grass, bruised and exhausted. Fang lay nearby, gnawing lazily on a tree trunk the size of a wagon. The air was thick with the tang of disturbed earth and the faint, metallic scent of the vorbear¡¯s blood.


    Roland rubbed his aching shoulder and let out a tired chuckle. ¡°I have to admit,¡± he said, voice light, ¡°I thought fighting alongside a Lifeborn would be... I don¡¯t know... easier. I mean, you¡¯re stronger than me, obviously, but compared to what I saw in my dreams¡ªthose Motherborn fighting the colossals¡ªyou seemed... weaker.¡±


    The air shifted. Celeste¡¯s smile froze, and for a fleeting second, her face darkened. The playful spark in her eyes vanished, replaced by something colder.


    Roland¡¯s stomach tightened. He knew that look; it was the same guarded expression his father used to get when someone mentioned his mother. Regret flooded him. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean¡ª¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± Celeste interrupted, though her tone suggested otherwise. She stared past him, eyes unfocused. "You¡¯re right, though. I am weaker than I should be."


    Roland sat up straighter. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    Celeste sighed, running a hand over her scaled head. The casual, carefree mask she usually wore slipped away, leaving something more raw. ¡°Since I know all about you from Sir Geld, I guess it¡¯s only fair I share a bit  about myself.¡±


    Roland said nothing, giving her the space to continue.


    ¡°I died,¡± she said, voice flat. ¡°At the battle of Solarium Crossing.¡±


    Roland¡¯s breath caught. ¡°You... died?¡±


    Her gaze met his. ¡°Yes. I was there when the colossals lost control. I remember fighting side-by-side with the Lightborn and Starborn, trying to stop them. We succeeded, eventually, but not before I was crushed.¡± She tapped her chest, right over her heart. ¡°A colossal¡¯s claw pierced straight through me. I died on that field.¡±


    Roland didn¡¯t know what to say. His mind reeled, trying to reconcile the vibrant, lively Celeste with the image of her broken body on a battlefield from decades past.


    Celeste''s mouth twisted into a wry smile. ¡°Mother¡ªViridius¡ªbrought me back. Forty years ago.¡±


    ¡°Forty years?¡± Roland frowned. ¡°But... you look younger than that.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s the problem.¡± She gestured to her body. ¡°This body is only forty years old. But my soul is much older. When Mother called me back, she didn¡¯t return me fully formed. My essence, my power¡ªit¡¯s out of balance. My soul¡¯s experience doesn¡¯t align with my body¡¯s development. I haven¡¯t grown into it yet.¡±


    Roland rubbed the back of his neck, trying to grasp the enormity of what she was saying. ¡°So... you¡¯re like a war veteran in a recruit¡¯s body?¡±


    Celeste chuckled, though there was no humor in it. ¡°Something like that. I can remember fighting colossals, channeling vast amounts of divine energy like it was nothing. But now? I get exhausted after a few healing prayers and some poison work. The strength I once had is... disconnected.¡±


    ¡°Is that why your soul looks cracked?¡± Roland asked before he could stop himself.


    Celeste¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You saw that?¡±


    He shifted uncomfortably. ¡°Yeah. When we first met. I didn¡¯t mean to pry.¡±


    She exhaled slowly. ¡°No, it¡¯s okay. The cracks are from the resurrection. Mortana teaches that souls aren''t meant to be pulled back from the Cycle. Mine was shattered and reassembled. It holds, but... it¡¯s fragile.¡±


    They sat in silence for a moment, ¡°So what happens now?¡± Roland asked softly.


    Celeste shrugged. ¡°I train. I fight. I wait for my body to catch up with my soul... or for my soul to give out. Whichever comes first.¡±


    Roland''s chest tightened. He didn¡¯t know what to say.


    ¡°We¡¯ll figure it out,¡± he said at last. ¡°Together.¡±


    For the first time since the conversation started, Celeste smiled. ¡°Yeah. We will.¡±


    Celeste¡¯s smile lingered for a moment before she tilted her head, studying Roland with a curious glint in her eyes. "You know," she said, voice light but pointed, "you¡¯re not exactly what I expected either."


    Roland raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What were you expecting? Someone taller?"


    She smirked. "No, someone stronger. Or... more attuned."


    "Attuned?" Roland shifted uncomfortably. "To what?"


    "Your gift." She tapped her temple. "Your soul sight. You barely use it."


    "Because it¡¯s useless in combat," Roland said with a shrug. "What am I supposed to do? Gaze into an enemy''s soul while they¡¯re trying to cut me down?"


    Celeste blinked, disbelief flashing across her face. "Is that what you think?"


    "That¡¯s what I know," he shot back, defensive. "I can see when someone''s soul is passing, I can ease that transition. Mortana gave me the gift to bring peace, not win fights."


    Celeste sat forward, elbows on her knees. "You¡¯ve been told half the story, Roland. Deathborn are some of the deadliest warriors in history. Their abilities are terrifying in battle."


    He frowned. "How? Seeing souls doesn¡¯t stop a sword."


    She shook her head. "You''re not thinking like a Deathborn. Soul sight isn¡¯t just about comforting the dying. When you look into someone''s soul, you see more than their pain¡ªyou see their intent."


    "Intent?" Roland''s eyes narrowed.


    "Yes. Deathborn warriors used their soul gaze in combat to predict their opponent''s next move. Will they run? Defend? Attack? That instinct¡ªthat knowledge¡ªmakes them nearly impossible to surprise."


    Roland¡¯s stomach turned. "You¡¯re saying I can read someone¡¯s mind?"


    "Not their mind, their soul. Intent runs deeper than thoughts. And there¡¯s more."


    He exhaled slowly. "Of course there is."


    "Death touch," Celeste said, her voice quieter now. "When you lock onto a soul, you can disrupt the connection between it and the body. A touch at the right moment can cause muscles to seize, balance to falter. Some Deathborn warriors could stop a heart with a single brush of their hand."


    Roland stared at her, a cold weight settling in his chest. "That sounds... unnatural."


    "Death is part of life," Celeste said softly. "Your gift isn¡¯t unnatural¡ªit¡¯s a weapon and a mercy. It just depends on how you wield it."


    Roland sat back, mind racing. He¡¯d spent years believing his gift was nothing more than a guide for the dying. But now, Celeste had torn that certainty apart.


    "I don¡¯t know if I want to use it like that," he admitted.


    "That¡¯s your choice," Celeste said, rising to her feet. "But you¡¯ll need to decide soon. The Veil doesn¡¯t care what you want. When the time comes, hesitation will kill you."


    She extended a hand to help him up. Roland took it.


    The Vorbear had left them battered and sore but it had been a good day.

 Payment

    The next two weeks passed in a blur of sweat, bruises, and relentless practice. The vorbear, to Roland¡¯s surprise, returned the very next morning, pacing just beyond the clearing as if awaiting another bout. Celeste had been delighted.


    ¡°Told you it loves the fight,¡± she¡¯d said, her grin infectious. ¡°Once they get a taste of real battle, creatures from Pyralith can''t resist.¡±


    The vorbear¡ªwhom Celeste had started calling Grizzle¡ªproved to be an unyielding opponent. Day after day, Roland and Celeste sparred with the creature. Grizzle''s cunning forced them to adapt, to work together. The first few days had been a mess of mistimed attacks and near-disastrous collisions, but gradually, they found a rhythm.


    Roland spent much of that time refining his use of soul gaze. He quickly discovered it wasn¡¯t a perfect art. When Grizzle was calm and in control, its intentions were as clear as reading tracks in fresh snow. A twitch of the muscles paired with a subtle shift in its soul¡¯s aura revealed whether it would lunge, feint, or circle for an opening.


    But when pushed, when the creature was wounded or enraged, its intent blurred. Instinct replaced thought, making its actions harder to predict. Still, Roland learned to identify patterns even then. The build-up of tension in its limbs, the quick flicker of its soul before an impulsive strike¡ªtiny clues that gave him just enough warning to react.


    ¡°You¡¯re getting better,¡± Celeste said one evening after practice. She tossed him a waterskin, her own face streaked with dirt and sweat. ¡°Less hesitation. More trust.¡±


    Roland caught the waterskin and took a long drink. ¡°It¡¯s weird. It¡¯s like¡­ listening to a second language I didn¡¯t know I spoke.¡±


    She smiled. ¡°That¡¯s what it feels like to connect to your gift. The more you listen, the clearer it becomes.¡±


    Their teamwork improved alongside Roland¡¯s abilities. The days of tripping over each other and mistiming strikes faded. They weren''t flawless yet¡ªCeleste occasionally darted in too fast, and Roland still hesitated when relying on her buffs¡ªbut they could hold the line without stepping on each other''s toes.


    The nights brought quieter moments. They shared stories around the fire¡ªCeleste recounting tales of the old Veil Wars, Roland talking about simpler times training under Sir Geld. His new reality was ever-present, yet a few hours of nightly reprieve made it endurable and almost enjoyable.


    On the fifteenth morning, Celeste clapped her hands together as they finished their morning meal. ¡°Alright. Time to stop playing.¡±


    Roland raised an eyebrow. ¡°Grizzle might disagree.¡±


    ¡°Grizzle¡¯s had his fun.¡± She stood and gestured toward the distant horizon, where mountains loomed like jagged teeth. ¡°We''ve trained enough. We''re ready for a real mission.¡±


    Roland wiped his hands on his tunic. ¡°What kind of mission?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s a minor gate about a week''s travel from here.¡± Celeste''s tone shifted, growing more serious. ¡°Mortalis forces have been slipping through it for months. Small raiding parties mostly, but it¡¯s only a matter of time before something stronger finds its way through.¡±


    Roland straightened. ¡°So we¡¯re going to close it.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Exactly. It''s not as dangerous as the main gates, but if we can close this one, it¡¯ll slow them down.¡±


    ¡°Doesn''t sound minor if Mortalis are still using it.¡±


    ¡°Minor compared to the major gates. But don''t get cocky¡ªclosing it will still be dangerous. Mortalis forces guard these entrances like starving wolves protect a carcass. But it¡¯s unlikely the Mortalis Veil Keepers are guarding this one. Most likely just some foot soldiers¡±


    Roland glanced toward Grizzle, who was currently sprawled at the edge of the clearing, eyes half-lidded but ears twitching toward their conversation. ¡°Are we bringing him along?¡±


    ¡°No, he wouldn¡¯t be very stealthy,¡± Celeste said with a laugh. ¡°We¡¯d be found out immediately if he came.¡±


    Roland grinned despite the nervous knot tightening in his stomach. The prospect of walking into enemy territory was daunting, but they¡¯d come far in the last two weeks. He wasn¡¯t the same knight who tripped over his partner¡¯s feet while trying to swing a sword.


    Celeste packed efficiently, gathering supplies and checking their equipment with the precision of someone who¡¯d travelled these dangerous paths before. Roland followed her lead, feeling the weight of responsibility settle over him.


    By mid-morning, they stood at the edge of the temple grounds, the mountains calling in the distance.


    ¡°You ready?¡± Celeste asked.


    Roland adjusted the strap of his pack and exhaled slowly. ¡°Yes... I think so.¡±


    Celeste gave him a nod. ¡°Then let¡¯s go close a gate.¡± They waved goodbye to Fang who had to stay and watch the gate and headed out for their first joint journey.


    The journey to the gate stretched across quiet days and long nights beneath a vast, star-filled sky. The uneventful nature of their trek gave them time to talk, to learn, and to better understand each other.


    They followed narrow forest paths, crossed shallow streams, and climbed rocky inclines that left their muscles aching. Fang¡¯s absence felt strange at first¡ªno steady thud of colossal footsteps, no reassuring presence lurking in the background. But the solitude forced them to rely on one another more deeply.


    One evening, as they sat by the fire, Roland turned to Celeste. ¡°So... the Veil. I get that it connects worlds, but I still don¡¯t fully understand how closing a gate works. If we close one, can''t they just... open it again?¡±


    Celeste smiled faintly. ¡°Not easily. When we lockdown a gate from this side, it¡¯s sealed. Locked. The connection between this point and the other side breaks, like snapping a thread. If the Mortalis want it reopened, they have to either re-stabilize the connection or wait for a new passage to form naturally.¡±


    Roland frowned. ¡°Wait for it to form? The Veil just... makes random connections?¡±


    ¡°Yes, and no.¡± Celeste poked the fire with a stick, sending a shower of sparks into the night air. ¡°The Veil is like an immense root system. Connections between worlds form, shift, and sometimes wither. Some connections are stable and permanent but others are fragile, temporary.¡±


    ¡°So if we close a gate here, they will just wait until another forms?¡±


    She shrugged. ¡°In theory. But it''s not that simple. New gates are unpredictable. There are hundreds of smaller, weaker connections, but finding them is a nightmare for both sides. And maintaining them? Even worse.¡±


    Roland stared into the flames. ¡°Then closing this gate really will make a difference.¡±


    ¡°It will.¡± Celeste¡¯s voice softened. ¡°And it¡¯ll buy time. Time for us to figure out the next step.¡±


    They pressed on through forests thick with mist and hills crowned with jagged rocks. Finally, on the morning of the seventh day, Celeste stopped at the edge of a ridge and pointed downward. ¡°There,¡± she whispered.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Roland crouched beside her and followed her gaze. Nestled in a shallow valley was the gate¡ªa dark, swirling rift framed by twisted stone and glowing with faint, silver threads. It stood no taller than a man and was just wide enough for a single person to pass through at a time.


    Around it, the Mortalis camp sprawled in a half-hearted attempt at fortification. Two tents flanked the gate, weathered and sagging with neglect. A small wagon stood nearby, its wheels half-buried in mud. No more than five figures moved about the camp, their armor dull and mismatched.


    ¡°Not exactly a fortress,¡± Roland murmured.


    The ridge gave them a clear view of the camp below. The gate pulsed with a faint, silvery glow, like a wound in the fabric of the world. Around it, five Mortalis soldiers shuffled through the mud, their movements slow and mechanical. Their armor was tarnished, their weapons worn¡ªbut something about them made Roland¡¯s skin crawl. He narrowed his eyes and let his gift stir. Souls flickered beneath the surface of those twisted forms, but the light was dim and... wrong.


    ¡°There¡¯s no Keeper,¡± Celeste said, her voice low with surprise. ¡°And... no sentries.¡±


    Roland shook his head, his jaw tightening. ¡°Those aren¡¯t normal soldiers.¡± He focused harder, his gift peeling back the veil of flesh to glimpse the souls beneath. A sickly, oily presence coiled around them like a parasite, clinging and festering. The sensation triggered an instinctive revulsion deep in his core. He didn¡¯t know exactly what the corruption was, but every instinct screamed that it didn¡¯t belong.


    Celeste¡¯s expression hardened. Her eyes followed his gaze to the shambling figures below. ¡°They¡¯re puppets now,¡± she said, voice cold with resolve. ¡°That sickness hollowed them out long ago. Don¡¯t waste guilt on what we¡¯re about to do.¡±


    A deep growl echoed through the clearing as one soldier raised its head, hollow eyes locking onto their position. Its mouth twisted into a snarl.


    ¡°No more stealth,¡± Roland muttered, drawing his sword. ¡°They know we¡¯re here.¡±


    The soldier let out a guttural roar and charged. The others followed, feet squelching through mud, armor clanking in eerie unison.


    ¡°Here we go!¡± Celeste called.


    The corrupted soldier lunged, and Roland met it with a resounding crash of steel. Their swords locked, the shriek of metal splitting the air. The creature pushed with inhuman strength, its rotting sinews straining against Roland¡¯s steady grip. The knight adjusted his footing, let the momentum carry them forward, then twisted sharply. The corrupted stumbled, off-balance, and Roland drove his sword through its chest.


    The soldier didn¡¯t fall. It snarled, eyes void of humanity, and swung a rusted axe with reckless force. Roland ducked, feeling the wind of the strike pass over his head. He yanked his blade free, sidestepped, and slashed across the creature¡¯s neck. Black-red ichor spattered the ground as the body collapsed in a twitching heap.


    ¡°Roland! Left!¡± Celeste''s voice rang out from behind him.


    He turned just in time to see two more soldiers advancing. Their movements were jerky but fast, their soulless eyes locked on him. He braced for impact when Celeste¡¯s voice rose in a sharp, commanding prayer:


    "Sap of root, venom¡¯s sting,


    Weave through veins with pain to bring."


    A greenish mist coiled from her outstretched hand, streaking through the air to strike the nearest soldier. The creature faltered mid-stride, its joints stiffening as the poison spread. Its growl turned to a choked hiss.


    Roland took the opening. He surged forward, sword raised. The first soldier barely had time to react before his blade cleaved into its shoulder. The corrupted staggered, and Roland followed with a brutal kick to its knee. Bone cracked. The soldier crumpled, and his sword pierced its skull with a wet crunch.


    The second soldier pressed toward Celeste, wielding a jagged spear. She ducked the thrust, her movements fluid, and whispered another prayer:


    "Shield of leaf, firm as stone,


    Let no strike break flesh or bone."


    A faint shimmer wrapped around her, and when the spear struck again, it glanced off an invisible barrier. She slid beneath the soldier''s guard and drove a dagger into its leg.


    ¡°Now, Roland!¡± she shouted.


    He charged, soul gaze flaring. The soldier twisted to face him, and he saw its next move a second before it acted. It would step right, feint high, then stab low. He anticipated perfectly. His sword met the creature''s weapon mid-lunge, then plunged into its chest.


    The creature spasmed, ichor bubbling from its mouth as its soul pulsed faintly against the corruption.


    The air thickened behind him.


    Celeste¡¯s voice sharpened: "Breath of rot, nature¡¯s blight,


    Steal their strength, drain their might."


    A sickly yellow mist coiled around the remaining soldier, which slowed as though trapped in molasses. Its grip weakened, and Roland seized the opportunity.


    The last soldier lunged at Celeste with a broken sword. She sidestepped, but her boot slipped in the mud. Roland moved without thinking, slamming his shoulder into the attacker. The impact sent it stumbling backward.


    Celeste, regaining her balance, flipped the dagger in her hand and hurled it. The blade embedded itself in the soldier''s heart. It let out a strangled gurgle and collapsed.


    Silence fell, broken only by their laboured breathing. The stench of corruption hung thick in the air.


    Roland knelt beside one of the fallen. The soldier¡¯s soul, faint and fractured, lingered above the broken body. It drifted like mist, awaiting guidance. He placed a hand on the chestplate and whispered the familiar words:


    "Mortana, gentle guide of the last breath,


    Lead this soul beyond pain and death.


    Let it cross where shadows part,


    To find peace in the Mother''s heart."


    The soul stirred and began to move.


    ¡°Stop!¡± Celeste¡¯s hand gripped his wrist.


    Roland froze. ¡°What? I¡¯m helping them pass.¡±


    Celeste shook her head, her eyes sharp. ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to guide them yet. You need to cleanse them first.¡±


    ¡°Cleanse?¡± Roland¡¯s heart raced. ¡°I... didn¡¯t know that was possible.¡±


    ¡°Of course it is. Corruption clings to the soul, even in death. If you only guide it through back into the cycle, it might carry that corruption with it.¡±


    He stared at the ghostly presence hovering over the body. ¡°How do I do it?¡±


    Celeste¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°I know the prayer, but I can¡¯t cast it. Only Deathborn can.¡±


    Roland swallowed hard. ¡°Tell me.¡±


    She squeezed his wrist, then spoke, her voice solemn:


    "Mortana, keeper of life¡¯s end,


    To this soul, your mercy send.


    Burn the shadow, cleanse the stain,


    So peace may rise, unchained from pain."


    Roland repeated the words. Divine energy surged through him like ice cracking beneath pressure. The soldier¡¯s soul writhed, the corruption igniting in black, crackling flames. The dark taint burned away, leaving a pale, serene light that drifted into the Veil.


    Roland gasped as the power ebbed. He felt... stronger. Lighter.


    Celeste noticed his reaction. ¡°Felt that, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°What was that?¡±


    ¡°A divine payment.¡± She smiled faintly. ¡°You¡¯re using your gift the way Mortana intended. Align your actions with your god¡¯s domain, and you''ll be rewarded. Just a little at first. But it adds up.¡±


    Roland looked at his hands, still tingling with the aftershock of the cleansing prayer. The battle had been brutal, but the real fight was only beginning. He continued to cleanse and release the souls. Each time receiving a small almost imperceivable reward.


    Celeste wiped her daggers clean on a scrap of cloth and turned toward the gate. It pulsed, steady and relentless. The swirling silver strands within its dark frame seemed to shimmer more urgently now, as though it sensed what was coming.


    ¡°It¡¯s time,¡± she said softly.


    Roland nodded and stepped beside her. The gate loomed before them, a rift carved into reality. His grip tightened around his sword hilt before he let it go and placed his hand on the cold, smooth stone frame.


    Celeste mirrored his movements, her eyes locked on the swirling Veil energy. ¡°We do this together,¡± she said. ¡°One prayer. Two voices.¡±


    Celeste¡¯s voice broke the silence, her tone steady and clear:


    "Mother of roots, keeper of grace,


    Seal this wound in time and space.


    By pact of life, by ancient creed,


    We close this gate¡ªfulfill the need."


    Roland joined her, their voices blending:


    "Guardian of bark, eternal guide,


    Let this passage now subside.


    By mortal will and sacred plea,


    Seal the path; so let it be."


    The gate shuddered. The silver strands twisted violently, the Veil itself recoiling from their combined intent. The stone frame cracked, deep veins of green and gold light running along its surface. And then he felt it: two vast presences stirring in response to their prayer.


    The first presence was ancient, nurturing yet unyielding. It resonated with Celeste¡¯s aura, the energy swirling through her like sap coursing through a tree¡¯s veins. The second presence was colder, more grounded, yet crackling with restrained potential. It connected with Roland, latching onto his soul as though recognising a distant kinship.


    The roots around the gate trembled. The Veil strands unravelled, collapsing inward. The stone groaned and then shattered with a sharp, deafening crack. The gate imploded, sucking in the remaining energy until nothing remained but a faint scorch on the ground.


    Roland staggered backward, breathless. His heart pounded, every muscle trembling. And yet, beneath the exhaustion, there was... more. A strength that hadn''t been there before.


    He turned to Celeste, who was also leaning heavily against a tree, cheeks flushed with exertion. ¡°Did you feel that?¡±


    She gave a weak smile. ¡°Yeah. Payment.¡±


    ¡°Payment?¡±


    She nodded, wiping sweat from her brow. ¡°We upheld our Oath so received a divine payment from the veil.¡±


    Roland flexed his hands. His limbs still ached from the fight, but beneath the fatigue lay a core of new strength. He could feel the energy humming faintly within him, like a chord struck on a harp, its resonance lingering long after the sound itself had faded.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know that was possible,¡± he said softly.


    Celeste chuckled, though it came out more as a breathless rasp. ¡°Not many do. And even fewer ever get to experience it. The gods don¡¯t hand out power lightly. It is the secret to the Veil Keepers strength¡±


    He knelt by the scorched ground where the gate had stood. The energy here had vanished completely. The tether to the Mortalis realm was gone, its corruption severed.


    ¡°We did it,¡± he murmured.


    ¡°Yes, we did.¡± Celeste stepped beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder. ¡°One gate down. A thousand more to go.¡±

 Labyrinth Diving

    The remains of the Mortalis camp lay scattered around them¡ªbroken weapons, torn tents, and the scorched earth where the gate had once pulsed with Veil energy. Roland kicked aside a cracked helm, its surface stained with red ichor. There wasn¡¯t much to salvage, but then, they weren¡¯t looters. Their purpose here had been to close the gate and stop the corruption, not to strip the dead of their gear.


    Celeste crouched beside one of the fallen wagons, running a hand over the splintered wood. Her eyes had that distant, calculating look Roland had come to recognise.


    ¡°Thinking about something?¡± he asked.


    She stood and dusted her hands on her tunic. ¡°Maybe. I just had an idea.¡±


    Roland crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. ¡°No, you didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡± she asked, too casually.


    He smirked. ¡°That¡¯s your ¡®I¡¯ve been planning this for days¡¯ face. Spill it.¡±


    Celeste chuckled and ran a hand over her scalp. ¡°Fine, you caught me. I was planning this, but the timing worked out perfectly.¡±


    ¡°For what, exactly?¡±


    She turned toward the treeline, eyes scanning the shadows. ¡°We need better equipment. If we¡¯re going to keep closing gates, we can¡¯t rely on basic steel.¡±


    Roland glanced down at his sword. The blade was chipped from the last fight, the edge dulled after carving through corrupted bark and brittle bone. ¡°Fair point. But how do we fix that?¡±


    ¡°By finding an entrance to a World tree Labyrinth.¡±


    He frowned. ¡°A labyrinth? I''ve heard of them, but never seen one. Aren¡¯t they...dangerous?¡±


    ¡°Very,¡± she said, smiling faintly. ¡°But they¡¯re also full of potential. Labyrinths are isolated sections of the Veil. We can enter them just like we would a gate.¡±


    ¡°How does a piece of the Veil become...isolated?¡±


    Celeste¡¯s eyes gleamed. ¡°Labyrinths form when passages decay or are forcibly separated from the Veil network. The roots of the World tree act like veins, carrying divine energy through the realms. When one of those veins is severed, the energy still lingers, trapped and unstable.¡±


    Realisation dawned on Roland. ¡°Viridara¡¯s World tree was attacked during the wars.¡±


    ¡°Exactly. When the old tree was destroyed, its rebirth left parts of the Veil disconnected. Those severed sections formed labyrinths all over the region. Dangerous, yes¡ªbut also full of resources.¡±


    Roland rubbed his jaw, still not entirely connecting the dots. ¡°And that helps us how?¡±


    ¡°Divine energy,¡± Celeste said simply. ¡°Without a stable source, divine energy crystallises over time. World tree Labyrinths are filled with crystallised essence. And that essence is the foundation for Veil-forged equipment.¡±


    He whistled softly. ¡°You mean the stuff the old Veil Keepers used? The enchanted blades, reinforced armor... all that?¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡± Celeste grinned. ¡°Divine essence is what smiths use to forge weapons that resonate with Veil energy. Stronger, lighter, and, more importantly, resistant to corruption.¡±


    Roland¡¯s mind raced. He¡¯d heard of such equipment in stories¡ªblades that cleaved through shadows, shields that repelled magical attacks with ease. The idea of wielding such gear made the task ahead feel less impossible.


    ¡°Alright,¡± he said. ¡°How do we find one of these labyrinths?¡±


    Celeste tilted her head toward the forest. ¡°I just happen to know a place.¡±


    He sheathed his sword and adjusted his pack. ¡°of course you do. That quite convenient¡± He said sarcastically.


    With Celeste guiding and Roland watching for signs of Veil disturbances, they moved into the trees.


    Hours passed as they tracked the faint traces of Veil energy through the forest. The ground beneath their feet grew softer, the roots beneath the soil thrumming with dormant potential. Celeste paused abruptly and knelt, pressing her palm against the earth. Her brow furrowed in concentration.


    ¡°The connection¡¯s here,¡± she said, glancing up. ¡°But I can¡¯t open it.¡±


    Roland stepped closer. ¡°Why not?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a World tree labyrinth,¡± Celeste explained. ¡°The roots answer to the Worldborn. My prayers can only reveal it¡ªnot open it.¡± She gestured for him to kneel beside her. ¡°It has to be you.¡±


    Roland swallowed hard and placed his hand on the cool, damp soil. The pulse beneath his palm quickened, like a slumbering heart responding to a familiar touch.


    ¡°Now repeat after me,¡± Celeste instructed, voice low.


    Roland took a steadying breath and spoke:


    "Worldtree, keeper of earthen thread,


    Wake the paths the lost ones dread.


    Where roots have torn and paths are frayed,


    Reveal where Veil and earth decayed."You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    The ground trembled. Glowing green veins spread from beneath his palm, weaving through the soil like cracks in glass. The lines converged on a moss-covered boulder a few feet away. The stone groaned, split with a deep crack, and slowly slid aside, revealing a spiralling tunnel of twisted roots. A cold breeze wafted upward, carrying the scent of ancient wood and lingering Veil energy.


    Roland opened his eyes and smiled. ¡°Found it.¡±


    The boulder split with a low groan, revealing a dark, spiralling tunnel beneath. A faint pulse of divine energy seeped from the entrance, crackling through the air like static before a storm.


    Roland tightened his grip on his sword. ¡°Well... after you.¡±


    Celeste grinned. ¡°Coward.¡±


    ¡°Cautious,¡± he corrected. ¡°Now let''s go find ourselves some divine essence.¡±


    They stepped into the labyrinth, and immediately, Roland realized it was nothing like he had imagined. He had expected a cave¡ªdark, damp, and earthy¡ªor perhaps something like the Veil itself, where the world shimmered with ethereal light. But this place was neither. The air felt thin, hollow, as if sound itself was being swallowed. Everything around them¡ªwalls, roots, even the ground beneath their feet¡ªwas a strange, lifeless grey.


    Roland frowned and ran a hand along a nearby root, its surface brittle, as if it had been drained of life. ¡°What is this place?¡±


    Celeste moved cautiously beside him, eyes scanning the shadows. ¡°A dying fragment,¡± she murmured. ¡°Without a source of divine energy, the roots and walls are decaying. Be careful¡ªsome parts might collapse.¡±


    Before Roland could respond, a low, chittering growl echoed through the silence. He turned just in time to see something skitter toward them from the shadows¡ªa hunched, six-legged creature covered in patchy brown fur, its elongated jaws lined with jagged teeth. It moved with unsettling speed, lunging at Roland before he could fully react.


    Instinct took over. He raised his sword just as the creature leapt. The blade met flesh with a sickening crunch, cutting deep through its side. The creature let out a strangled hiss before collapsing, twitching as blood seeped into the floor.


    Roland exhaled sharply and kicked the body aside. ¡°What in the Tex was that?¡±


    Celeste knelt beside the corpse, prodding it with the tip of her dagger. ¡°Veil-lings.¡± Her expression darkened. ¡°Creatures that lost their way in the Veil. Normally, living things pass through the Veil when travelling between worlds. But some get... stuck. They stay too long, get Veil drunk, and instead of moving on, they start feeding off whatever divine energy they can find. They have become part of the Veil ecosystem¡±


    Roland grimaced. ¡°So this thing was feeding on the dying roots?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°And now that the energy is running out, they¡¯re getting desperate.¡± She stood, glancing warily at the darkness ahead. ¡°We should move. Where there¡¯s one Veil-ling, there are usually more.¡±


    Roland tightened his grip on his sword. ¡°Great. Let¡¯s hope they¡¯re not too hungry.¡±


    Before they could leave, Celeste crouched beside the fallen creature, pulling a small, curved blade from her belt. With practiced efficiency, she began cutting into the Veil-ling¡¯s hide.


    Roland frowned. ¡°We¡¯re stopping to skin the thing?¡±


    ¡°Not just skin,¡± Celeste muttered as she carefully removed a set of razor-sharp claws. ¡°Veil-lings refine divine energy when they feed on it. That means their bodies become valuable crafting materials.¡± She held up the claws, which gleamed faintly in the dim light. ¡°These can be used to make reinforced armor¡ªlight, but stronger than steel. And their hides, if treated right, can hold Veil energy for months.¡±


    She made another incision, extracting a dark, gland-like organ near the creature¡¯s stomach. A faint shimmer pulsed through it. ¡°And this? Pure, condensed Veil essence. Alchemists would kill for one of these.¡±


    Roland watched, slightly uneasy as she worked. ¡°So you¡¯ve done this before?¡±


    Celeste shot him a knowing grin. ¡°A long time ago. What, you think I¡¯ve been running around closing gates with basic equipment? The best Veil Keepers know how to use whatever the Veil gives them.¡± She tucked the harvested materials into a small pouch. ¡°Besides, if we¡¯re looking to craft better weapons, we¡¯re going to need all the divine materials we can get.¡±


    Roland exhaled and glanced into the looming darkness ahead. ¡°Fine. Just don¡¯t ask me to carry the guts.¡±


    Celeste chuckled. ¡°Deal.¡±


    With careful steps, they pressed deeper into the labyrinth, the weight of unseen eyes pressing against them from the shadows. Now, Roland wasn¡¯t just thinking about what might be hunting them¡ªhe was wondering what else in this place could be harvested, reforged, and turned into something stronger.


    They didn¡¯t have to wait long. As they moved deeper into the labyrinth, more Veil-lings emerged from the shifting grey, drawn by the lingering divine energy that clung to them like a beacon. Roland barely had time to wipe his blade clean before the next creature lunged, this one larger, with thick, chitinous plates covering its body.


    Celeste grinned. ¡°Oh, now this is exciting.¡±


    Roland sidestepped the attack and brought his sword down hard, but his blade barely scratched the creature¡¯s shell. It skittered back, six legs clicking against the dying roots as it let out a low, warbling hiss.


    Celeste whispered a quick prayer:


    "Venom''s touch, in blood be sown,


    Twist the heart and break the bone."


    A sickly green mist coiled from her fingers and seeped into the Veil-ling¡¯s joints. Within moments, the creature¡¯s movements slowed. It staggered, chittering weakly, before collapsing entirely.


    Celeste knelt beside it, rapping her knuckles against its hardened shell. ¡°This will make excellent armor. Lightweight but reinforced by divine residue. Stronger than most metals.¡±


    She wasted no time harvesting, using her dagger to separate the outer plates. Roland kept watch as more Veil-lings lurked at the edges of the labyrinth, hesitant after witnessing the fall of their kin.


    After their fifth encounter, they had more materials than they could reasonably carry. Roland hefted a pack filled with crystallized bones, chitin, and harvested claws. ¡°Alright, I get the whole ¡®use what the Veil gives you¡¯ thing, but we¡¯re running out of space.¡±


    Celeste sighed, looking over their haul. ¡°You¡¯re right. We need to prioritize. The chitin stays¡ªtoo valuable to leave behind. We can drop some of the softer hides and excess bones.¡±


    With reluctant efficiency, they lightened their load, leaving behind anything that wouldn¡¯t be immediately useful. They pressed forward, deeper into the labyrinth¡¯s heart. The decaying roots thinned, giving way to a cavern-like chamber where the air buzzed with static energy.


    Then they saw it¡ªglowing green shards embedded in the walls, humming faintly with divine power.


    ¡°The crystals of Viridius,¡± Celeste whispered, stepping forward with reverence. She pressed her hand against the smooth surface, and Roland saw her expression shift¡ªsomewhere between wonder and deep satisfaction. ¡°This is what we came for.¡±


    Roland reached out and touched one of the crystals. A tingling warmth spread through his fingertips, and for a brief moment, he felt... lighter, as if the very air around him responded to his presence.


    Celeste pulled out a small hammer and chisel. ¡°Stand back. This stuff is more delicate than it looks.¡± With careful precision, she began extracting the crystals, catching them as they fell into her hands.


    After securing several large fragments, she turned to Roland, grinning. ¡°We did it. Our first real labyrinth dive.¡±


    Roland let out a breath, shaking his head. ¡°First of many, I¡¯m guessing.¡±


    Celeste chuckled. ¡°Oh, absolutely.¡±


    With their packs filled and their mission complete, they turned back the way they came, stepping over the remains of Veil-lings and fading roots. The labyrinth may have been dying, but for them, it had given exactly what they needed¡ªmaterials to grow stronger, and proof that they could survive what lay ahead.

 Oasis

    Celeste moved with practiced ease through the winding corridors of the labyrinth, her steps sure, her path unwavering. Roland followed, noting the way she barely hesitated at each twisting turn, as if she had walked this route a dozen times before. The suspicion gnawed at him, and when they reached a perfectly intact Veil gate¡ªone she had led him to without so much as a moment¡¯s doubt¡ªhe knew for certain. He let out a small huff, crossing his arms. ¡°You planned this.¡± Celeste didn¡¯t even look guilty. Instead, she smirked, placing a hand on the gate¡¯s smooth stone frame. ¡°Of course I did. Now stop pouting and help me open it.¡±


    As they stepped through the fading edges of the labyrinth gate, mist curled around Roland¡¯s boots, thick and swirling like smoke. He blinked as the air shifted¡ªnot thinning into open wilderness but revealing something entirely unexpected.


    Before them stretched a town, vibrant and alive. Roland¡¯s breath caught. He had expected more Veil-warped ruins, another crumbling remnant of the past. Instead, he found a bustling Motherborn settlement. Structures of smooth stone and woven crystal arched over the streets, their surfaces glowing faintly with embedded divine energy. The air carried the scent of flowers and fresh bread, and the soft murmur of conversation echoed through the streets.


    An active Motherborn town.


    Roland barely had time to process before a small figure stepped toward them. She was barely half his height, with smooth, pearl-white skin that caught the light in a way that made her look sculpted rather than born. A CrystalBorn.


    ¡°CeeCee!¡± the woman exclaimed, beaming as she hurried forward.


    Celeste groaned, rubbing her temples. ¡°By the roots, Pystria, don¡¯t call me that.¡±


    Roland glanced between them, suppressing a grin. ¡°CeeCee?¡±


    Pystria ignored Celeste¡¯s protests and grinned up at him. ¡°And who¡¯s this?¡± She looked him over, sharp blue eyes scanning him with unnerving efficiency before giving a quick, satisfied nod. Then, to his complete confusion, she winked. ¡°He¡¯ll do.¡±


    Roland blinked. ¡°I¡¯ll do for what exactly?¡±


    Celeste crossed her arms. ¡°Ignore her.¡±


    Pystria laughed. ¡°Welcome to Fraella, traveller.¡± She gestured around them with a flourish. ¡°A little sanctuary, one of many hidden across the worlds.¡±


    Roland took in the town again, noticing the way the people moved¡ªnot like warriors, but families, artisans, scholars. ¡°I didn¡¯t think there were still places like this.¡±


    ¡°Oh, we¡¯re around,¡± Pystria said with a smirk. ¡°Just takes knowing where to look. Or who to ask.¡± She turned back to Celeste. ¡°So, you finally came back. You never visit unless you need something.¡±


    Celeste sighed, but there was warmth beneath the exasperation. ¡°I need something.¡±


    Pystria laughed again. ¡°Figured.¡± She glanced at Roland. ¡°Let me guess¡ªgear?¡±


    Celeste nodded. ¡°We have materials from a World tree labyrinth. Chitin, claws, even some divine crystal.¡±


    Pystria¡¯s eyes gleamed. ¡°Oh, now you¡¯re speaking my language. Come on, let¡¯s get you two properly equipped.¡±


    Roland followed Celeste and Pystria through the winding streets of Fraella, his eyes darting between the towering crystal structures and the bustling figures that moved through them. The city was unlike anything he had ever seen¡ªalive, thriving, hidden away from the world.


    Motherborn of all shapes and sizes filled the streets. He hadn¡¯t seen another Lifeborn, though, and there were a few figures he couldn¡¯t place at all¡ªMotherborn, clearly, but different. Half-breeds? The thought crossed his mind, but he wasn¡¯t about to ask. Some questions were better left alone.


    Eventually, they stopped in front of a massive building with a door that towered at least six meters high. Roland glanced at Pystria, barely reaching his waist, and then back at the door. ¡°Isn¡¯t this a little... oversized?¡±


    Pystria grinned. ¡°You¡¯ll see.¡±


    As soon as they stepped inside, Roland understood. The air was thick with heat and the scent of molten metal. Sparks rained from the far end of the workshop, where a massive figure loomed over an anvil, hammering down with enough force to send vibrations through the floor. The smith was huge¡ªeasily fifteen feet tall, with black, stone-like skin that gleamed under the forge¡¯s glow.


    The giant turned, revealing deep-set, ember-like eyes that regarded them with quiet intensity. His voice rumbled like shifting mountains. ¡°Celeste. You finally bring me something worth my time?¡±


    Celeste smirked. ¡°Winz, meet Roland. Roland, meet Winz¡ªStarborn, master smith, and Pystria''s husband also probably the only person in this city who can turn our materials into something truly dangerous.¡±


    Roland blinked as he processed what Celeste had just said. He glanced between Winz, the towering Starborn, and Pystria, the tiny CrystalBorn who barely reached his waist. "Husband and wife?"


    Pystria caught his expression and burst into laughter. ¡°Oh, I love that look! You¡¯re trying to picture how that works, aren¡¯t you?¡±If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Roland coughed, suddenly very interested in the nearest piece of smithed metal. ¡°I¡ªuh¡ªno, not at all.¡±


    Winz rumbled a low chuckle as he set down his hammer. ¡°You¡¯re not the first to wonder.¡±


    Pystria nudged Roland in the ribs, grinning mischievously. ¡°Oh, come on, no need to be shy. I bet your Worldborn mind is racing with all sorts of interesting thoughts.¡±


    Celeste groaned. ¡°Can we please move on?¡±


    Pystria winked at Roland before gracefully switching gears. ¡°Anyway, enough fun. We¡¯ve got work to do.¡± She gestured to the table where Celeste had laid out the materials they had collected.


    Winz ran his massive hand over the chitin plates, nodding in approval. ¡°Good quality. This will make for excellent armor.¡± He glanced at Roland and Celeste before moving toward a side table cluttered with strange, rune-etched stones. ¡°But before I start shaping anything, we need to see how you both handle the energy flow.¡±


    Roland and Celeste stood still as Winz and Pystria placed a few small, glowing shards on their skin. At first, nothing happened. Then a wave of energy rippled through Roland¡¯s body, sharp but not painful. It was as if something deep inside him was being tested, measured.


    Winz studied him for a long moment before shaking his head. ¡°You¡¯re still too undeveloped, boy. I can forge a shield for you¡ªyour mark can handle that much¡ªbut anything more would drain you too fast. The stronger the equipment, the more it draws from your god mark. You¡¯d burn yourself out in the middle of a fight.¡±


    Roland exhaled, slightly disappointed but understanding. ¡°So, I have to get stronger before I can use better gear?¡±


    ¡°Exactly,¡± Winz said, already turning toward his forge. ¡°A well-made shield will serve you better than an overpowered weapon that¡¯ll leave you gasping after three swings.¡±


    Pystria, however, had better news. She held up two small organs from one of the veil-lings, each glimmering with soft energy. ¡°I can make something for both of you,¡± she said cheerfully. ¡°Matching necklaces, infused with divine energy. They won¡¯t turn you into juggernauts, but they¡¯ll offer a layer of protection¡ªdull a strike, lessen the impact of a fall. Just enough to tip fate in your favor.¡±


    Roland glanced at Celeste, who shrugged. ¡°Every advantage helps.¡±


    Pystria grinned. ¡°That¡¯s the spirit! Now, let¡¯s get to crafting, shall we?¡±


    Roland stood back, watching as Winz and Pystria worked, mesmerized by the blend of ritual, prayer, and pure craftsmanship. It was unlike any forging he had ever seen. He had expected hammering, shaping, and refining¡ªmanual labour, the way any blacksmith would work metal. But here, the process was something more.


    At times, it looked as though the materials shifted of their own accord, changing without direct touch. Winz would murmur a low prayer to the forge, and the chitin plates softened, melding seamlessly together as he shaped them into a round shield. Sparks of divine energy crackled along the seams before they cooled, reinforcing the structure beyond mere physical strength.


    Pystria worked with equal precision, holding a Veil-ling organ between her hands, her fingers barely moving as the thing twisted and pulsed, its flesh hardening, the dull grey shifting into a deep, polished green. In a matter of minutes, what had once been a grotesque organ became a flawless gemstone, shimmering with stored divine energy.


    Roland swallowed, both fascinated and unnerved. So this is why they don¡¯t waste anything.


    His attention shifted back to Winz, who was now holding the purified divine crystals they had gathered. The Starborn¡¯s deep, gravelly voice resonated through the forge as he whispered an ancient blessing:


    "Veil of worlds, hear my call,


    Strengthen shield, let none let it fall.


    By flame and star, by root and stone,


    May this bond be sealed in bone."


    The crystals flared with light as they sank into the shield¡¯s surface, vanishing seamlessly into the material. When the glow faded, the shield no longer looked like mere chitin and metal¡ªit felt different. The surface shimmered faintly with Veil-touched energy, and Roland could feel its presence, as if it recognized him.


    On the other side of the forge, Pystria handed Celeste a pair of newly crafted daggers. The once jagged, uneven Veil-ling fangs had been shaped into elegant, wickedly sharp blades, the hilts adorned with small gemstones infused with divine energy. They glowed softly in Celeste¡¯s hands, their edges reflecting the forge light like liquid silver.


    Winz stepped back, crossing his massive arms as he surveyed his work. ¡°Your shield is done,¡± he rumbled, nodding toward Roland. ¡°Strong, resilient, and now bound to your mark. It¡¯ll hold against steel and spell alike.¡±


    Pystria beamed. ¡°And your necklaces are nearly ready. Just need to set the stones.¡±


    Roland ran a hand over the shield¡¯s surface, feeling the divine hum beneath his fingertips. He wasn¡¯t just holding a piece of armor¡ªhe was holding something alive with Veil energy.


    He exhaled, glancing at Celeste. ¡°Well,¡± he said, gripping the shield¡¯s handle, feeling the perfect balance in his grasp. ¡°I think this was worth the trip.¡±


    Celeste twirled one of her daggers between her fingers, smirking. ¡°Oh, definitely.¡±


    Dinner was a lively affair, though Roland spent most of it listening rather than speaking. The three Motherborn had centuries of history between them, and it showed in the way they spoke¡ªfamiliar, effortless, full of half-finished jokes and shared memories. They had known each other for nearly three thousand years, and yet, despite the warmth of their reunion, Roland noticed something peculiar.


    Not once did they mention Celeste¡¯s absence during those centuries she had been dead. They danced around it skillfully, never directly acknowledging the gap in time. They spoke of past battles, of the shifting fate of Motherborn sanctuaries, of people long gone, but there was always a careful avoidance when it came to anything that might remind Celeste of what she had lost.


    Roland wasn¡¯t sure if she noticed or if she simply chose not to react. She played along, rolling her eyes at Pystria¡¯s teasing and arguing with Winz over the merits of different fighting styles. It was as if, for tonight, she was just Celeste¡ªnot someone brought back from death, not a warrior out of time, just their old friend.


    By the time the meal wound down, Winz leaned back against the massive stone chair that barely fit his frame. ¡°So,¡± he rumbled, ¡°how long are you two staying?¡±


    Celeste glanced at Roland before answering. ¡°A few days, at least. We need to test out our equipment, make sure it holds up before heading back out.¡±


    ¡°And,¡± Pystria cut in, ¡°you should visit the alchemist while you¡¯re here. If you¡¯re going to be diving into more labyrinths, you¡¯ll need proper potions.¡±


    Roland raised an eyebrow. ¡°I thought alchemy wasn¡¯t as effective for people like us.¡±


    ¡°It depends,¡± Celeste said. ¡°Basic healing brews won¡¯t do much¡ªour marks accelerate recovery enough that potions are a waste unless you¡¯re on death¡¯s door. But there are other kinds. Stamina restoratives, resistance potions, Veil attunements...¡±


    ¡°And explosives,¡± Pystria added cheerfully. ¡°Don¡¯t forget the explosives.¡±


    Roland looked between them, then exhaled. ¡°Right. Potions. Explosives. More training. Sounds like we¡¯re going to be busy.¡±


    Winz grunted approvingly. ¡°Good. Better to break your gear here than out there.¡±


    Celeste smirked. ¡°Then it¡¯s settled. We stay, we test, and we prepare.¡±

 Fraella

    That night, Roland sat on the edge of his bed, watching as Celeste leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. She hadn¡¯t said much since they left the forge, but her presence in the room worried him. There were plenty of spare rooms in Fraella, yet she had chosen to stay here. He knew there had to have been a reason.


    ¡°Not that I mind the company,¡± Roland said finally, ¡°but you do know there are other places to sleep, right?¡±


    Celeste didn¡¯t respond right away. She stepped away from the door, rolling her shoulders as if shrugging off an invisible weight. ¡°It¡¯s better this way.¡±


    Roland frowned. ¡°Better how?¡±


    Instead of answering, she turned to face him fully, her expression unreadable. ¡°Promise me something.¡±


    He narrowed his eyes. ¡°That depends.¡±


    ¡°Promise me that tomorrow, you won¡¯t wander off. Stay by my side. No exceptions.¡±


    Roland felt his stomach tighten slightly. ¡°You think I¡¯m in danger?¡±


    Celeste exhaled through her nose, not quite sighing, but close. ¡°I think Fraella is safe enough. Mostly.¡±


    That mostly lingered in the air between them.


    Roland rubbed a hand through his hair, suddenly more aware of how out of place he was here. Fraella might have been a hidden sanctuary for Motherborn, but he wasn¡¯t one of them. And not all of them would be happy to see a Worldborn walking among them.


    Celeste could see the questions in his eyes, and she offered a small, tired smile. ¡°You¡¯ll get your answers, I promise. But not all at once and not now.¡±


    Roland studied her for a moment before nodding. ¡°Alright. How about one question, then?¡±


    Celeste¡¯s lips quirked slightly. ¡°Fair enough.¡±


    He didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°Why did Sir Geld stop being a Keeper? And if he did all the things you¡¯ve told me about and we are doing now¡ªwhere¡¯s his gear from that time?¡±


    Celeste¡¯s expression shifted. The playfulness drained away, replaced by something heavier, something more solemn. She lowered herself onto a chair across from him, staring at her hands for a long moment before finally speaking.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t hold back I see, it¡¯s complicated but he broke his Oath.¡±


    Roland sat up straighter. ¡°He what?¡± Roland had been his squire, he was the most honest man he had ever met. He couldn¡¯t imagine he would break his Oath.


    Celeste nodded slowly. ¡°He had his reasons, and I agreed with him at the time. But the gods don¡¯t think or act like we Born do. They don¡¯t care about why an Oath is broken¡ªonly that it was.¡± Her voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it, something raw just beneath the surface. ¡°And we were both punished for it.¡±


    Roland sensed the burden of time in her voice and the slight, fleeting tension in her hands. He wanted to ask more, wanted to pry deeper into what had happened. But something in her expression told him not to.


    After a long silence, he nodded. ¡°Alright.¡±


    Celeste looked up at him, surprised. ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±


    ¡°For now.¡±


    She studied him for a moment longer, then huffed out a quiet laugh. ¡°Thanks, you¡¯re learning.¡±


    Roland smirked. ¡°I¡¯m a fast learner.¡±


    Celeste shook her head and stood. ¡°Get some rest, fast learner. Tomorrow¡¯s going to be long.¡±


    As she extinguished the lantern, Roland lay back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling. Celeste didn¡¯t leave the doorway, keeping guard over him while he slept. Roland wondered just how safe he was here.


    The next day turned out to be far more eventful than Roland had expected.


    Celeste stole him away immediately after breakfast, dragging him through the bustling streets before he could even ask what the plan was. The first stop was a tailor. His initial suspicion¡ªhad she just wanted a dress-up doll?¡ªfaded when he realized she was more focused on getting him practical clothing. Sturdy, reinforced fabric, fitted properly for movement. Not the kind of ceremonial robes or flowing cloaks he had seen some of the other Motherborn wearing.


    ¡°There aren¡¯t any Worldborn shops left this side of the wall,¡± Celeste explained, holding up a tunic and pressing it against his chest before tossing it back into the pile. ¡°So if you want something that actually fits, now¡¯s the time to get it.¡±


    Roland glanced around at the store, noting how nothing seemed to have a listed price. He didn¡¯t see any coin changing hands, either. He frowned. ¡°How are you even paying for all this?¡±


    Celeste smirked but didn¡¯t answer, which only made him more curious.


    With a fresh set of gear secured¡ªlighter, yet reinforced with strange stitching techniques that Roland could already tell would hold up in a fight¡ªtheir next stop was a bakery. Roland had no idea why until Celeste shoved a warm, golden roll into his hands.


    ¡°Eat,¡± she ordered.


    He didn¡¯t argue. He took a bite, and his eyes widened. The bread was buttery, impossibly fluffy, and melted on his tongue with a rich, slightly sweet flavour.


    Celeste grinned. ¡°That, my friend, is a Caxsilla. The pride of Fraella.¡±


    Roland took another bite, then another, savouring the flavour. ¡°I¡¯m starting to think I like this place.¡±


    Celeste chuckled. ¡°Good, because our next stop is just as important.¡±


    The alchemist¡¯s shop was different from the rest of Fraella¡¯s smooth, crystalline buildings. It was smaller, cluttered, and smelled overwhelmingly of crushed herbs and something sharp, like lightning trapped in a bottle.


    Behind the counter stood an Orderborn¡ªa being of normal human proportions, but his skin gleamed like polished gold, and intricate hexagonal carvings covered his arms and neck. The lines pulsed faintly with divine energy, shifting as if they were alive.


    Roland had seen Motherborn with strange features before, but this was something else. The divine markings gave the alchemist an ageless quality, as though he existed halfway between mortal and something more. Which made the juxtaposition between him and his store even stranger.


    Celeste greeted him with an easy familiarity, and soon enough, they were handing over some of the more... unusual materials from yesterday¡¯s hunt. Roland watched as the alchemist examined the Veil-ling organs with sharp, analytical interest.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°These are still potent,¡± the alchemist murmured, his voice smooth and precise. He plucked up a small, dark gland and held it to the light, the golden carvings along his fingers glowing faintly. ¡°Good harvest.¡±


    He set the materials aside and, in return, handed Celeste a small collection of vials.


    ¡°What are these?¡± Roland asked, holding one up to the light. The liquid inside shimmered, almost shifting colours when he turned it.


    The alchemist smiled faintly. ¡°A reaction enhancer. Not a true speed potion¡ªyou won¡¯t move faster¡ªbut your reflexes will sharpen, your thoughts will clear.¡±


    Roland rolled the vial between his fingers. ¡°That sounds... useful.¡±


    Celeste smirked. ¡°That¡¯s why we¡¯re here.¡±


    With their trades complete, they stepped back onto the streets, Roland still adjusting to the strange flow of life in Fraella. It wasn¡¯t what he expected¡ªless like a lost civilization, more like a hidden piece of history still moving forward, unseen by the rest of the world.


    Roland hadn¡¯t forgotten Pystria¡¯s offhand comment about explosives, so before they left the alchemist¡¯s shop, he turned back and asked, ¡°What about the explosives?¡±


    The alchemist¡¯s golden eyes gleamed, and for the first time, his carefully composed smile widened into something far too excited. ¡°Ah, now that is a fascinating subject! You see, when divine energy is unstable¡ª¡±


    ¡°Nope.¡± Celeste grabbed Roland¡¯s arm and hauled him toward the door. ¡°Not happening.¡±


    Roland barely had time to glance over his shoulder at the alchemist, who looked personally offended at being cut off.


    ¡°I liked him,¡± Roland muttered as Celeste dragged him back into the streets.


    ¡°That¡¯s the problem,¡± she shot back. ¡°You¡¯ll like him right up until you¡¯re on fire.¡±


    The whirlwind tour of Fraella continued. Roland was certain Celeste was deliberately keeping him too busy to ask more questions¡ªnot that he had much time to dwell on it. They wove through markets, side streets, and hidden alleyways, stopping just long enough for her to point something out before they were moving again.


    Finally, the streets opened into a large circular plaza with tiered seating built into the surrounding stone. It was a small arena, but an arena nonetheless.


    And standing inside it, waiting for them, was Winz.


    The massive Starborn waved them over, holding up Roland¡¯s newly crafted shield along with several small pieces of armor. ¡°Figured you¡¯d be here soon,¡± Winz said. He handed over the shield, then gestured to the armor. ¡°Not enchanted¡ªno divine reinforcement. But it¡¯s solid. Better than nothing.¡±


    Roland took the pieces and strapped them on, noting how they fit snugly but still allowed for free movement. The shield felt right in his grip¡ªbalanced, familiar, yet enhanced in a way he could already sense.


    Before he could thank Winz, a voice boomed across the arena.


    ¡°So this is the Worldborn.¡±


    Roland turned to see a towering figure step into the ring. His skin was dark purple, a shade deep enough to almost seem black, and his arms and chest were covered in thick, bone-like plates that gleamed under the sunlight.


    A Flameborn.


    Of course, the arena boss would be a Flameborn.


    Celeste grinned, already moving toward the registration board. ¡°It¡¯s time for more training.¡±


    Roland sighed. ¡°Of course it is.¡±


    She scribbled his name onto the next available slot, and the moment the crowd saw Worldborn listed, a wave of noise erupted through the stands. Some of it was excitement. Some of it was less friendly.


    Roland caught snippets of conversation¡ªmuttered bets, half-spoken hopes that he¡¯d be beaten senseless, if not outright killed.


    He exhaled slowly. ¡°Not exactly a warm welcome.¡±


    Celeste leaned against the stone railing, unbothered. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. You¡¯ve got everything you need to win.¡±


    Roland glanced at her. ¡°You sound very confident.¡±


    She smirked. ¡°You have reaction enhancers, your soul gaze, and your new shield. That¡¯s more than enough to take down anyone here.¡±


    Roland eyed the massive Flameborn waiting for him in the ring.


    ¡°¡­You are aware of how big he is, right?¡±


    Celeste just patted his shoulder and grinned. ¡°Don¡¯t think. Just react.¡±


    Roland exhaled and rolled his shoulders. Fine. If Fraella wanted a show, he¡¯d give them one.


    The arena floor was packed dirt, scarred from countless bouts. Heat shimmered in the air, not just from the midday sun but from the anticipation radiating from the gathered crowd. Word had spread fast¡ªa Worldborn was fighting today. Roland could feel their stares, some curious, others hungry for him to fail.


    Across from him, his opponent stepped into the ring. A young Flameborn, maybe only a little older than Roland, but taller and broader. His dark purple skin gleamed under the sun, bone-plated armor naturally fused into his body. The plates along his shoulders and forearms were cracked and scuffed, signs of past battles. His burning amber eyes fixed on Roland, and a slow, sharp-toothed grin spread across his face.


    The Flameborn rolled his neck, letting out a low, rumbling chuckle. ¡°Didn¡¯t think I¡¯d ever get to fight a Worldborn,¡± he said, flexing his clawed fingers. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t break you too badly.¡±


    Roland smirked, adjusting his grip on his sword. ¡°That¡¯s kind of you.¡±


    Celeste stood just outside the ring, arms crossed, looking completely at ease. ¡°Remember, reaction enhancer first,¡± she called. ¡°Then see him, Roland. Use your gift.¡±


    Roland uncorked the vial and downed the shimmering liquid. A cool, electric sensation spread through his veins, sharpening his senses. His heartbeat slowed¡ªnot from sluggishness, but from clarity. The world came into focus with a crispness he had never felt before.


    The Flameborn lunged.


    Roland¡¯s soul-gaze flared, and in that moment, he saw his opponent. Not just his stance, not just his movements¡ªhe saw the flicker of his intent. The way his weight shifted, the tension in his legs. He was going to feint left, then drive his blade low.


    Roland didn¡¯t fall for it.


    The moment the Flameborn cut right, Roland pivoted smoothly and raised his shield. The dull-edged sword crashed against it, sending a shock up his arm, but he held firm.


    His opponent blinked in surprise.


    Roland countered instantly, stepping forward and slamming the shield into the Flameborn¡¯s chest. The impact sent the other fighter stumbling back.


    A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd.


    The Flameborn recovered fast, snarling as he adjusted his grip. This time, he advanced slower, measuring his steps. Roland watched, soul-gaze still open, reading the subtle shifts in energy.


    The Flameborn struck again, aiming for Roland¡¯s exposed side.


    Roland twisted, raising his shield to absorb the blow. As the Flameborn¡¯s blade connected, Roland stepped in close and hooked his foot behind the other warrior¡¯s ankle. With a sharp twist, he sent the Flameborn sprawling onto the dirt.


    The crowd roared.


    Roland didn¡¯t press the advantage. He stepped back, keeping his stance balanced. The Flameborn growled, flipping himself upright in one fluid motion. His grin had faded, replaced by something sharper.


    ¡°Not bad,¡± he admitted, rolling his shoulders. ¡°Let¡¯s see how you handle this.¡±


    The Flameborn slammed his free hand into the ground. A surge of heat erupted beneath Roland¡¯s feet¡ªhis opponent¡¯s natural magic, calling fire through the Veil. Roland leapt aside as a small burst of flame cracked the earth where he had been standing.


    Stay calm. He had no magic, no natural armor, no unnatural strength. But he had his sight.


    The Flameborn charged, his next attack coming faster. He wasn¡¯t feinting anymore¡ªthis was raw instinct, sharpened by battle. Roland¡¯s soul-gaze flickered¡ªhigh swing, forward momentum, left foot unsteady.


    Roland stepped inside the attack, his shield bracing against the Flameborn¡¯s swinging blade. Instead of just blocking, he turned the momentum, twisting his body to shove the Flameborn off balance.


    This time, when his opponent staggered, Roland brought his dull-edged sword up and cracked the pommel against the Flameborn¡¯s armored ribs.


    The Flameborn grunted, falling hard onto one knee.


    The crowd roared. Some cheered, others cursed.


    Roland took a step back, lowering his blade. The Flameborn stayed down for a moment, then exhaled sharply and laughed. He wiped a hand across his mouth, looking up at Roland with something that almost resembled respect.


    ¡°Well,¡± he said, pushing himself back to his feet, ¡°guess the Worldborn can fight after all.¡±


    Now, standing outside the ring, catching his breath, Roland flexed his fingers, the last remnants of the potion still humming in his veins. He had felt unstoppable.


    ¡°Good fight.¡±


    The deep, gravelly voice pulled his attention upward.


    The old Flameborn stood before him, arms crossed, his dark purple skin marred with old battle scars. Close up, Roland saw the years etched in his eyes¡ªa depth of experience no divine power could replicate.


    ¡°That was like watching a young Deathborn fight,¡± the elder mused. ¡°Fast. Efficient. Reading your opponent before they can move.¡± His gaze sharpened. ¡°But don¡¯t get too comfortable.¡±


    Roland wiped the sweat from his brow. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    The Flameborn tapped a clawed finger against the vial still strapped to Roland¡¯s belt. ¡°Potions are useful in tight situations. But don¡¯t rely on them. Divine gifts can fail. Prayers can be interrupted. And if you dull your instincts by leaning on crutches, one day, they won¡¯t be there to save you.¡±


    Roland felt Celeste watching him from the side, but she didn¡¯t interrupt.


    The elder¡¯s gaze lingered for a moment longer before he grunted. ¡°You¡¯ve got potential, Worldborn. Just make sure it¡¯s your skill that keeps you alive, not something in a bottle.¡±

 Trapped

    Roland had only been distracted for a minute.


    Celeste had been talking to a local scout, gathering information and¡ªhopefully¡ªan up-to-date map. Meanwhile, he had wandered a few steps away, drawn in by the sight of an ornately crafted sword displayed outside a smithy. The etching along the blade looked almost Veil-touched, and for a moment, he wondered if¡ª


    Then everything went black.


    He hadn¡¯t even had time to react before a massive arm wrapped around his torso, lifting him off the ground as if he weighed nothing. The grip was unbreakable, iron-clad with natural strength far beyond his own. A Starborn.


    Roland barely had a chance to struggle before a second set of hands¡ªthese far more precise¡ªpressed against his temples. A surge of divine energy crackled through him, disrupting his focus before he could call on his soul gaze. His vision blurred, his body locked up. An Orderborn.


    Not good.


    But as they hauled him through the streets, ducking into side alleys and slipping away from the crowd, Roland realized something strange¡ªthere was no killing intent. No hostility in the grip that held him. Just urgency. Desperation.


    By the time his vision cleared, he was in an empty room, the door slammed shut behind them. The chair beneath him was sturdy, the rope binding his wrists tight, but not painfully so. He tested it, shifting slightly, but whoever tied the knots knew what they were doing.


    He exhaled slowly, forcing his pulse to steady. If they wanted him dead, they¡¯d have done it already. Best to wait, to listen¡ª


    The Orderborn stepped forward first. His golden skin gleamed under the dim light, the intricate hexagonal carvings along his arms glowing faintly with divine energy. His expression was tense, unreadable, but his voice was firm.


    ¡°You must open a gate into the Veil.¡±


    Roland remained calm, keeping his breathing steady as he studied his captors. The Orderborn¡¯s glowing markings pulsed faintly, betraying his frustration, while the Starborn loomed behind him, arms crossed over his massive chest like a living mountain.


    ¡°Open a gate into the Veil,¡± the Orderborn repeated, his tone sharper this time.


    Roland tilted his head. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡±


    The Orderborn¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°Lies.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not a lie,¡± Roland said smoothly. ¡°It takes two to open a gate¡ªboth a Worldborn and a Motherborn. Without Celeste, I can¡¯t do anything.¡±


    The Orderborn let out a hiss, something between frustration and disgust. ¡°I don¡¯t want to rely on a treekiller.¡±


    Roland raised an eyebrow. Treekiller? That wasn¡¯t a term he had heard before, but from the venom in the Orderborn¡¯s voice, it was clear enough what he meant. He guess Celeste or maybe just Lifeborns had a history.


    The Starborn stepped forward, glaring down at Roland. ¡°You¡¯re lying. I¡¯ve seen a Worldborn open a gate before.¡±


    Roland met his gaze evenly. ¡°Then it wasn¡¯t into the Veil. It was probably a labyrinth.¡±


    That gave them pause. The Orderborn¡¯s fingers twitched, and the Starborn¡¯s glare flickered with uncertainty.


    Before they could press further, the door slammed open with a force that rattled the walls.


    Celeste stood in the doorway, and Roland immediately knew she was livid.


    Her skin crackled with barely contained energy, faint sparks dancing along her arms and shoulders. The usual sharpness in her eyes had been replaced with something far more primal¡ªsomething dangerous. The very air around her buzzed with static, as if the room itself recoiled from whatever power she was holding back.


    His captors took one look at her and didn¡¯t even hesitate.


    They ran.


    No words, no threats¡ªjust raw, instinctive fear. The Starborn shoved past the Orderborn in his rush to escape, their heavy footsteps thundering down the hall.


    Roland blinked, still tied to the chair. ¡°So... thanks?¡±


    Celeste exhaled sharply, her fists still clenched. ¡°They¡¯re lucky they ran.¡±


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    Roland didn¡¯t doubt that.


    Celeste let out a long sigh, the energy crackling around her slowly fading as she unclenched her fists. She ran a hand over her scalp, visibly forcing herself to calm down. Then, to Roland¡¯s surprise, she looked genuinely regretful.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said, her voice quieter now. ¡°I should have protected you better.¡±


    Roland raised an eyebrow, still bound to the chair. ¡°You can make it up to me by untying me.¡±


    She huffed a small, amused breath and stepped forward, cutting the ropes with a flick of her dagger. As soon as his hands were free, he rubbed at his wrists, looking at her expectantly.


    ¡°So,¡± he said, ¡°who exactly were my friendly kidnappers?¡±


    Celeste sighed again, this time heavier. ¡°They¡¯re not bad people, just... desperate.¡±


    ¡°Desperate enough to tie me to a chair,¡± Roland muttered, flexing his fingers.


    Celeste leaned against the table, arms crossed. ¡°Some of them have been stuck here for centuries, Roland. Hundreds of years, watching as the veil was been closed to them. Blocking any way they had to get home.¡±


    That made him pause. He glanced toward the now-empty doorway where the Orderborn and Starborn had fled. ¡°They¡¯re trapped?¡±


    Celeste nodded. ¡°They have families waiting for them. Wives. Husbands. Children they haven¡¯t seen in lifetimes. The only Veil Keepers still active are the corrupted ones from Mortalis, and they aren¡¯t opening gates to send people home. They¡¯re only making things worse.¡±


    Roland frowned. He had never thought about it like that.


    He exhaled slowly. ¡°And I¡¯m the first Worldborn they¡¯ve seen in a long time. The first new Veil Keeper.¡±


    Celeste nodded. ¡°They saw a chance, and they took it.¡±


    Roland rubbed his wrists, thinking over everything Celeste had just told him. Then, after a long pause, he met her gaze.


    ¡°What would it take?¡± he asked. ¡°To get them home?¡±


    Celeste tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling as if the answer might be written there. She stayed quiet for a moment, then exhaled. ¡°A lot.¡±


    He crossed his arms. ¡°Define a lot.¡±


    She pushed off the table and turned to face him fully. ¡°First, we need to get stronger. Strong enough to hold our own against whatever Mortalis throws at us. We need divine payments, as many as we can get, and we need to upgrade our gear. No more relying on basic steel¡ªVeil-forged weapons, enchanted armor, things that won¡¯t break the moment we fight something big.¡±


    Roland nodded, taking it all in. ¡°And even then?¡±


    Celeste¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°Even then, it might not be enough.¡±


    He frowned. ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Because the best place to send them home would be at the junction between the main Veil paths,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s where the strongest connections form between Viridara, Mortalis, and the rest of the Veil. But there¡¯s a problem.¡±


    ¡°Let me guess,¡± Roland said, ¡°that¡¯s where Mortalis is strongest.¡±


    Celeste nodded grimly. ¡°They control most of the major gates. If we want to send people through safely, we¡¯ll have to fight for control of that junction. And we¡¯ll be outnumbered.¡±


    Roland exhaled, considering the challenge ahead. ¡°So, we need allies.¡±


    Celeste met his gaze, her expression thoughtful. ¡°If we could reach the other Veil Keepers¡ªthe ones still on our side¡ªthen maybe, maybe we could start getting people home. But even if we manage that, it won¡¯t be easy.¡±


    Roland hesitated, then asked, ¡°What about Fang?¡±


    Celeste¡¯s expression darkened slightly. ¡°We can¡¯t take Fang into the Veil until we understand what made the other Colossals go mad.¡± There was a sadness in her eyes, a quiet hesitation that told him the uncertainty affected her more than she let on.


    Roland clenched his fists. If he was going to carry the title of Veil Keeper, then maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªhe had a responsibility to change things.


    Celeste let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over her scalp. ¡°That¡¯s a problem for another day. Right now, we have a more immediate one.¡±


    Roland raised an eyebrow. ¡°More problems?¡±


    She smirked. ¡°Yes, and it¡¯s your fault..¡±


    Roland groaned. ¡°Let me guess¡ªthe Flameborn I beat yesterday isn¡¯t taking it well?¡±


    Celeste nodded. ¡°He¡¯s really not taking it well. He¡¯s demanded a Trial of Strength to regain his honor.¡±


    Roland frowned. ¡°Alright¡­ but what does that have to do with us?¡±


    ¡°The trial is for him to close the labyrinth.¡±


    Roland blinked. ¡°Wait. What?¡±


    Celeste crossed her arms. ¡°The others have accepted it¡ªas long as you agree.¡±


    Roland rubbed his temple. ¡°Okay, back up. How is that even possible? You can¡¯t just ¡®close¡¯ a labyrinth.¡±


    ¡°You can,¡± Celeste corrected. ¡°If you defeat all the remaining Veil-lings and harvest enough divine crystals, the labyrinth will collapse on itself. Without creatures feeding off its energy, and with its last remnants taken, the Veil stops holding it together.¡±


    Roland exhaled, leaning against the table. ¡°And I¡¯d be needed to open the way in.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Exactly.¡±


    He studied her for a long moment. ¡°What do you think we should do?¡±


    Celeste shrugged, but there was something sharp behind her casual demeanor. ¡°We should agree.¡±


    Roland narrowed his eyes. ¡°Why?¡±


    She smirked slightly. ¡°Because it¡¯s a good chance to gather more ingredients. The labyrinth is already on its last legs¡ªone way or another, it won¡¯t be around much longer. And let¡¯s be honest, the youngling only cares about proving himself in a fight. With both of us there, he should make it out alright.¡±


    Roland wasn¡¯t convinced. She was saying all the right things, but there was something in her expression, a flicker of something she wasn¡¯t saying.


    He crossed his arms. ¡°Spill it, Celeste.¡±


    She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. ¡°Fine. There¡¯s something else I want from this.¡±


    Roland raised an eyebrow. ¡°Of course there is.¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s always a boss Veil-ling,¡± she explained. ¡°One that¡¯s stronger, faster¡ªoutperforms all the others. It¡¯s usually the last to go down, and it always carries something valuable.¡±


    ¡°You want its resources,¡± Roland guessed.


    Celeste grinned. ¡°Exactly. And since the kid doesn¡¯t care about the spoils, we can walk away with something really useful.¡±


    Roland exhaled. He knew this wasn¡¯t just about some Flameborn¡¯s honor. Celeste always had an angle. Still, she wasn¡¯t wrong¡ªthe challenge was inevitable, and if they could walk away stronger for it, then why not?


    ¡°Alright,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯ll open the labyrinth.¡±


    Celeste¡¯s grin widened. ¡°Good. Let¡¯s make sure we get something worth the trouble.¡±

 Inexperience

    They stood outside the entrance to the labyrinth, the Veil¡¯s faint hum vibrating through the air. Roland¡¯s arms were full of warm, buttery Caxsilla, a gift from the local baker¡ªwho, as it turned out, was none other than Beryn¡¯s mother.


    ¡°She wanted to show her appreciation,¡± Celeste said, clearly amused as she plucked one of the rolls from the top of the pile. ¡°And apologise for her son dragging us into this.¡±


    Roland shifted the weight in his arms, struggling to keep the stack balanced. ¡°Appreciation is nice, but did she have to give me this many?¡±


    ¡°She is a baker,¡± Celeste pointed out, taking a bite. ¡°This is how they say ¡®thank you.¡¯¡±


    Roland huffed but didn¡¯t argue. The Caxsilla were good.


    Beryn stood nearby, arms crossed, his dark purple skin and bone plates catching the light from the lanterns surrounding the entrance. He was large, broad-shouldered, and full of the reckless energy of youth.


    Except, as Roland had learned just minutes ago, Beryn was eighty years old.


    ¡°That still doesn¡¯t feel real to me,¡± Roland muttered, watching as the young Flameborn stretched in preparation.


    Celeste chuckled. ¡°Motherborn children are rare, and they grow slowly. It takes time to cultivate strength like ours.¡± She gave Beryn a once-over. ¡°Even at eighty, he¡¯s still young by our standards.¡±


    Roland shook his head. ¡°Eighty years old and still not an adult. That¡¯s ridiculous.¡±


    Beryn turned toward them, clearly impatient. ¡°If you¡¯re done talking about me, let¡¯s go over the rules again.¡±


    Celeste gestured for him to continue, though Roland could tell she was barely holding back a smirk.


    Beryn straightened. ¡°You two are only here to observe. You report back on my efforts, but you do not interfere unless absolutely necessary.¡± His gaze flicked between them, lingering on Celeste, as if making sure she understood.


    Celeste held up a hand in mock surrender. ¡°Fine, fine. You¡¯re the challenger.¡±


    Beryn nodded, satisfied. ¡°In return, you can have any of the spoils, as long as I get to challenge every creature first.¡±


    Roland exchanged a glance with Celeste, who gave him a small nod.


    ¡°Agreed,¡± Roland said.


    Beryn grinned and cracked his knuckles. ¡°Good. Then let¡¯s open this gate.¡±


    Roland couldn¡¯t help but find it very convenient that the labyrinth gate was right in the middle of town. He glanced around at the bustling streets, at the people who had simply built their lives around it, and shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re telling me this just happened to grow here?¡±


    Celeste smirked. ¡°Not luck. The gate formed because it sensed the concentration of Motherborn in Fraella. The Veil reacts to us.¡±


    Roland exhaled, rolling his shoulders. ¡°Right. Because that¡¯s not unsettling.¡±


    Still, he stepped forward and placed his hands on the stone frame. The pulse of Veil energy thrummed beneath his fingers, waiting for his call. He whispered the prayer, and the gate shimmered to life, swirling silver threads weaving into an opening.


    Celeste clicked her tongue. ¡°Bigger this time.¡±


    Roland raised an eyebrow but did as she asked, widening the passage as the energy stretched and solidified. Then he saw why.


    Celeste strolled up, leading a wagon pulled by a creature that looked mostly like a mule¡ªexcept for its ridged horns and thick, reptilian hide.


    ¡°You brought a wagon?¡± Roland asked, incredulous.


    Celeste grinned. ¡°Of course. I plan on taking the spoils this time.¡±


    Roland let out a breath, shaking his head. ¡°That reminds me¡ªhow does currency even work here? What do the Motherborn use?¡±


    ¡°Mostly bartering,¡± Celeste said as she adjusted the harness on the Krul. ¡°We trade goods and services. If we need to settle an imbalance, we use experiences.¡±


    Roland frowned. ¡°Experiences?¡±


    Celeste held out her hand. ¡°Here, I¡¯ll show you.¡±


    Curious, Roland placed his palm against hers.


    In an instant, something shifted¡ªhis vision blurred, and suddenly, he wasn¡¯t standing at the gate anymore. He was moving, fast and free, wind rushing past his face. His hands clutched thick fur as he rode on Fang¡¯s back, weaving through the dense Viridara forest, feeling the sheer power of the colossal beneath him.


    The sensation lasted only a moment before he snapped back to himself, standing at the gate once more. He inhaled sharply, his body still tingling with the memory.


    Celeste smirked. ¡°See? Experiences. It¡¯s valuable. Can¡¯t be stolen, can¡¯t be counterfeited. We trade memories, skills, and knowledge.¡±


    Roland let out a breath. ¡°That¡­ was incredible.¡±


    She patted his shoulder. ¡°Glad you think so. Now, let¡¯s get moving.¡±


    They stepped through the gate, leading the wagon inside. The labyrinth was the same as before¡ªgrey, fading, eerily silent. But the Veil-lings could sense the change. The moment the gate was fully formed, they started moving, creeping toward the disturbance like hungry scavengers.


    Beryn cracked his knuckles. ¡°Finally.¡±


    The first Veil-lings rushed in, chittering and snarling. Roland stayed back, hand resting on his sword, watching closely.


    Beryn met them head-on, fire trailing along his fists as he slammed into the creatures with the force of a hammer. The young Flameborn wasn¡¯t just capable¡ªhe thrived in combat. His movements were aggressive but disciplined, using bursts of flame to scorch through his enemies before they could overwhelm him.


    Celeste leaned against the wagon, watching with mild amusement. ¡°He¡¯s good enough for this level.¡±


    Roland nodded, keeping his eye on the fight. The youngling was holding his own¡ªfor now. But the real test would come deeper in.


    Roland had suspected from the start that Celeste had been guiding their path through the labyrinth, and now he was certain of it. The terrain had shifted, the twisting tunnels leading them somewhere new, far from the route they had taken last time. And the Veil-lings had changed as well.


    This section of the labyrinth was swarming with creatures unlike anything they had seen before. Insect-like Veil-lings, each about two feet long, scuttled along the cracked ground and clung to the brittle roots overhead. Their chitinous shells shimmered faintly, pulsing with absorbed divine energy, and their mandibles clicked in eerie unison as they turned toward the intruders.


    Roland kept one hand on his sword but didn¡¯t move. This was Beryn¡¯s fight.


    The young Flameborn didn¡¯t hesitate¡ªhe charged in.


    At first, he fought well. His strikes were powerful, fire coating his fists as he smashed through the creatures with raw strength. But the moment more of them swarmed in, his lack of experience started to show.


    Instead of controlling the battlefield, he let himself get surrounded. Instead of adjusting his movements, he became frantic, his blows growing wild and unfocused. The insects piled on, their sharp legs scraping against his armor, their bodies pressing in from all sides.


    Then Beryn panicked.


    A pulse of fire erupted around him in a desperate attempt to break free. The flames expanded outward, forming an uncontrolled inferno around his body.


    Roland barely had time to curse before he and Celeste were forced to retreat, heat licking at their skin.


    "Friendly fire, Beryn!" Roland called, shielding his face from the searing heat.


    Celeste hissed in frustration. ¡°Idiot!¡±


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    The flames consumed everything in their reach¡ªthe Veil-lings, the brittle ground, and, much to Celeste¡¯s dismay, the potential spoils.


    When the fire finally died down, Beryn stood victorious, breathing heavily in the middle of a scorched battlefield.


    Roland exhaled, shaking his head. ¡°Well, that was one way to do it.¡±


    Celeste, however, was far from amused. She stormed forward, eyes burning with irritation.


    "Are you trying to get yourself killed?" she snapped.


    Beryn scowled. ¡°I won, didn¡¯t I?¡±


    Celeste crossed her arms. ¡°Barely. And at what cost? You didn¡¯t use strategy, you didn¡¯t account for your allies, and worst of all¡ªyou ruined my spoils.¡±


    Beryn flinched slightly at that last part. Roland wisely stayed quiet.


    Celeste exhaled sharply. ¡°I know your father would have taught you better. The Flameborn way is about strength and control, not just brute force. If you fight like this outside the labyrinth, you¡¯ll be dead before you hit the ground.¡±


    Beryn clenched his fists, jaw tight. But he didn¡¯t argue.


    Celeste shook her head. ¡°Next time, fight smart.¡±


    The young Flameborn said nothing, but Roland could see the frustration in his expression. Whether it was at Celeste or himself, Roland wasn¡¯t sure.


    After Celeste¡¯s lecture, Beryn finally started thinking before he moved. His attacks became more controlled, his positioning tighter, and he adjusted when the swarm tried to outmaneuver him. He wasn¡¯t perfect¡ªfar from it¡ªbut at least he wasn¡¯t just throwing fire in every direction and hoping for the best.


    Roland used the opportunity to train as well, focusing on his soul gaze. With Beryn¡¯s permission¡ªsomething the Flameborn had been far too eager to grant. Something about how Roland should be honored to see such a brilliant soul. Roland studied his movements, watching how instinct, intent, and training clashed.


    It was fascinating. He could see the moments where hesitation formed¡ªwhere Beryn¡¯s instincts pushed one way, but his training pulled another. Every time that happened, it created a weakness¡ªa slight delay, a misstep, a strike that didn¡¯t land with full force. Against the Veil-lings, it wasn¡¯t enough to cost him the fight, but against a real opponent? Someone who knew what to look for? It would be his downfall.


    The Veil-lings, on the other hand, were entirely different. Their souls were wild¡ªnot like people or even animals. They were pure instinct, acting with no doubt, no second thoughts. That made them predictable. They had no hesitation, no conflicting training. They simply moved.


    Roland absorbed every detail, committing them to memory. He had learned how to read intent, but if he wanted to master his skill, he needed to remove hesitation. His body had to move the way the Veil-lings did¡ªwithout doubt, without second-guessing.


    Meanwhile, Celeste was completely in her element, harvesting materials from fallen Veil-lings with ruthless efficiency. She was practically beaming by the time she filled another crate on the wagon.


    Roland raised an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯re way too happy about this.¡±


    She smirked. ¡°You would be too if you knew how valuable these are.¡± She tapped the side of the crate. ¡°Most of this is going to help Fraella. But when we¡¯re stronger? We¡¯ll be able to call in those favors.¡±


    Roland glanced at the growing haul, considering the implications. ¡°So, we¡¯re investing in the future.¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡± Celeste grinned. ¡°And when the time comes, we¡¯ll make this pay off.¡±


    Roland exhaled and turned back to the fight, watching Beryn carve through another wave of Veil-lings.


    Roland felt the change before he saw it. The flow of divine energy around them shifted, warping like a current pulling toward a singular point. Even the walls of the labyrinth had altered¡ªwhere before they were dull and grey, now they shimmered, translucent. Beyond them, stars hung in the void, distant and cold, as if they had stepped back into the Veil itself.


    Then the Boss appeared.


    A massive, wolf-like Veil-ling prowled forward, its body rippling like liquid shadow, shifting between solid and ethereal as it moved. Its fur shimmered, catching the dim starlight in unnatural ways, and its eyes¡ªtwo orbs of silver fire¡ªlocked onto them with terrifying focus.


    Celeste¡¯s carefree attitude vanished instantly. She clenched her fists, sparks of energy flickering across her skin as she tensed. ¡°This is bad.¡±


    Roland¡¯s grip tightened on his sword. ¡°How bad?¡±


    Celeste didn¡¯t take her eyes off the creature. ¡°It¡¯s evolved too far. The divine energy running through it¡­ it¡¯s started connecting to the labyrinth itself.¡±


    Roland frowned. ¡°What does that mean?¡±


    Celeste exhaled sharply. ¡°It means it¡¯s at its limit. This thing is powerful enough to channel divine energy into the walls. It¡¯s creating its own little domain inside the labyrinth. If it had more time, it could stabilize this place, turn it into something permanent.¡±


    Roland cursed under his breath. That was bad.


    Celeste turned to Beryn. ¡°You need to let us help.¡±


    Beryn bared his teeth, fists clenched at his sides. ¡°This is my fight.¡±


    Celeste¡¯s tone sharpened. ¡°Knowing the strength of your opponent is also a skill. You don¡¯t charge into a fight blind.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not blind,¡± Beryn snapped. ¡°I know what I¡¯m doing.¡±


    ¡°No, you don¡¯t,¡± Celeste shot back. ¡°You¡¯ve never faced something like this.¡±


    Beryn took a step forward, fire beginning to swirl around his arms. ¡°I¡¯m not failing this trial. I won¡¯t be shamed again.¡±


    Roland watched the two of them, heart pounding as the wolf-like Veil-ling moved closer, its body shifting like flowing water, its silver eyes burning.


    Beryn had made his choice.


    Now, Roland could only wait to see if it would cost him.


    Beryn wasted no time. The moment the wolf-like Veil-ling moved, so did he.


    Flames roared to life around his fists as he launched forward, his speed impressive even by Flameborn standards. He struck first, weaving between the boss¡¯s shifting form, delivering rapid, crushing blows to its ribs and legs. Fire lashed out with each strike, searing fur and leaving glowing embers where his fists connected.


    The wolf barely flinched.


    It moved like a liquid shadow, its body rippling between solid and mist, flowing around Beryn¡¯s attacks with unnatural grace. When it struck back, it was fast. A blur of silver claws and burning eyes.


    Beryn barely avoided the first swipe, twisting midair and kicking off a broken root to reposition. He retaliated with a burst of fire, a controlled explosion that sent a wave of heat through the air. The wolf recoiled, its translucent body flickering as if destabilized for a moment.


    Roland clenched his fists. He¡¯s using everything he has.


    But it wasn¡¯t enough.


    For all his raw talent, Beryn lacked control. The fight dragged on, and the gap in power became clear. The wolf wasn¡¯t reckless. It was patient. It tested Beryn¡¯s movements, pushing him, exhausting him. It didn¡¯t need to overpower him immediately¡ªit just needed to outlast him.


    Roland could see it happening. The hesitation creeping in. The way Beryn¡¯s once-fluid strikes grew just a little slower, just a little sloppier. The Veil-ling wasn¡¯t making mistakes, but Beryn was.


    Celeste tensed beside him. She wanted to jump in¡ªRoland could feel it. But she held back, respecting the Flameborn tradition. This was his fight.


    Then it happened.


    Roland''s soul gaze saw it before his eyes could even register it.


    A moment of hesitation. A half-step off balance. A slip.


    The wolf lunged, its silver claws slashing across Beryn¡¯s chest. The impact sent him staggering back, fire sputtering out as pain stole his focus.


    The second strike was already coming. Straight for his head.


    Roland didn¡¯t think.


    He moved.


    His body reacted before his mind could catch up. He leapt, shield raised, interposing himself between Beryn and death. The claws slammed into his shield with a force that sent shockwaves through his arm, but he held firm.


    Celeste was already moving.


    The moment Roland blocked the attack, she vanished into motion, sliding beside Beryn and pressing her hands to his wound. Divine energy flared as she whispered a rapid prayer, sealing the worst of the damage before he could even process the pain.


    Roland gritted his teeth, bracing against the wolf¡¯s weight. Its silver eyes locked onto him now, as if acknowledging his interference.


    And now, whether they liked it or not¡ªthis was their battle.


    Roland gritted his teeth as his shield absorbed the brunt of another of the wolf¡¯s attacks. His arm shook under the force, his muscles burning¡ªnot just from the impact, but from the divine energy being siphoned away. His mark was draining rapidly, feeding the enchantments woven into the shield, reinforcing its strength so that he could hold the line.


    Behind him, Celeste was already moving. She threw the crates off the wagon without hesitation, making room for Beryn¡¯s limp body. ¡°He¡¯s poisoned!¡± she shouted. ¡°I¡¯m losing him!¡±


    The Krul, sensing the urgency, took off on its own, pulling the wagon at full speed down the labyrinth¡¯s winding path. Roland didn¡¯t have time to question where it was going¡ªall he could do was fight.


    The wolf lunged again, faster, more calculated. Roland barely raised his shield in time, deflecting the strike as he stumbled backward. Something was different now. This Veil-ling wasn¡¯t just moving on instinct¡ªit was thinking.


    We¡¯re being herded.


    Roland knew it, but he couldn¡¯t stop it. The beast wasn¡¯t attacking to kill¡ªit was guiding them, steering them toward something.


    He risked a glance back and saw Celeste hunched over Beryn, her hands glowing as she poured everything she had into healing him. But her usual sharp focus was fraying. She was panicking.


    Roland¡¯s soul gaze flared, and the truth struck him like a hammer blow¡ªBeryn was about to die.


    His soul was moving on.


    Roland didn¡¯t understand why he acted, only that he did.


    He reached out¡ªnot with his hands, but with something deeper.


    And he grabbed it.


    A force unlike anything he had ever felt pulsed through him. Soul Touch.


    He had refused to use it before. The idea of interfering with something as sacred as the soul had felt wrong. Unnatural.


    But now? Now he understood.


    Celeste gasped as Beryn¡¯s body jerked, his soul no longer slipping away. It was still there, tethered, giving her the time she so desperately needed.


    She didn¡¯t question it. She didn¡¯t hesitate. She threw herself back into her work, whispering rapid prayers as she fought to neutralize the poison.


    Roland held on, barely able to breathe, feeling the magnitude of what he was doing. Holding onto someone¡¯s soul was like gripping a thread between life and death, every second stretching impossibly thin.


    Then, without warning, the Veil-ling stopped.


    The massive boss stood several paces away, its silver eyes locked onto him, no longer attacking.


    It was watching.


    Roland¡¯s grip on Beryn¡¯s soul faltered slightly, and still, the creature did nothing.


    As if soul touch had given it pause.


    The w tilted its head slightly, then¡ªslowly¡ªit backed away. Not retreating in fear. Not defeated but in caution.


    Celeste let out a slow breath, her hands finally pulling away from Beryn¡¯s chest. The golden glow of her healing faded, and his breathing evened out, no longer ragged and shallow.


    Roland felt the tension in his body ease as he released Beryn¡¯s soul, letting it settle back where it belonged. The strange sensation of holding onto something so intangible, yet so real, vanished, leaving behind only a dull exhaustion.


    They both turned toward the boss Veil-ling.


    The massive Veil-ling still stood motionless, its silver-fire eyes locked onto them. It had every opportunity to strike again, to finish what it started. But it didn¡¯t. It simply watched.


    Celeste was the first to break the silence. Her gaze flicked around the area. Her expression hardened.


    ¡°We¡¯re trapped,¡± she muttered.


    Roland tensed. ¡°What?¡±


    She pointed past the boss. ¡°That¡¯s the only exit from here.¡±


    Roland followed her gaze. Beyond the massive creature, the path narrowed into a single passage¡ªone way in, one way out.


    And the boss was blocking it.

 Escape

    Roland¡¯s mind raced as he studied the massive wolf-like Veil-ling. It could have finished them. It should have finished them. And yet, it stood still, watching.


    ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± he murmured. ¡°Why did it stop?¡±


    Celeste kept her gaze locked on the beast, her stance tense but calculating. ¡°It¡¯s being cautious.¡±


    Roland frowned. ¡°Of what?¡±


    ¡°Soul Touch,¡± she said simply. ¡°It can¡¯t defend against it. That makes you an unknown threat.¡±


    Roland stiffened. That didn¡¯t sit well with him.


    Celeste continued, ¡°And it knows we¡¯re trapped. It doesn¡¯t have to rush. It¡¯s testing us.¡±


    A low groan pulled Roland¡¯s attention back to the wagon.


    Beryn was stirring, his fingers twitching as he tried to push himself up. His breathing was steadier now, but his skin was still pale, his fire dim.


    Celeste knelt beside him. ¡°Don¡¯t move too much. You¡¯re still recovering.¡±


    Beryn forced his eyes open, looking between them. ¡°What... happened?¡±


    ¡°You almost died,¡± Celeste said bluntly. ¡°You¡¯re not fighting anymore.¡±


    Beryn scowled but didn¡¯t argue. He was too exhausted to pretend otherwise.


    Roland exhaled. ¡°So what now? What¡¯s our play?¡±


    Celeste¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°I can¡¯t help here. My poisons won¡¯t work.¡±


    Roland¡¯s stomach dropped. ¡°Why not?¡±


    Celeste nodded toward the Veil-ling. ¡°Because we use the same gift.¡±


    Realization dawned. They were both attuned to the same kind of divine energy. Just as Celeste¡¯s poisons wouldn¡¯t work against herself, they wouldn¡¯t work against this creature either.


    Roland clenched his fists. That meant their chances of winning were nonexistent. This wasn¡¯t a fight they could win.


    ¡°We need to escape,¡± he said.


    Celeste nodded. ¡°Agreed. But there¡¯s only one way out.¡±


    Roland swallowed hard, already knowing what she was going to say.


    ¡°Soul Touch,¡± she said. ¡°You have to use it.¡±


    He felt a cold heaviness settle in his chest. ¡°No.¡±


    Celeste shot him a sharp look. ¡°Roland¡ª¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s wrong,¡± he cut in. ¡°I don¡¯t have the right to interfere with a soul like that.¡±


    Celeste let out a frustrated breath. ¡°You already did when you saved Beryn.¡±


    ¡°That was different.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡± she challenged. ¡°Because it was him instead of an enemy?¡±


    Roland¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°Because he was dying.¡±


    Celeste stepped closer, lowering her voice. ¡°And what do you think is going to happen to us if we don¡¯t get past that thing?¡±


    Roland clenched his teeth, looking away. Every part of him rebelled against the idea. Soul Touch was unnatural. It wasn¡¯t meant to be used like this.


    But Celeste wasn¡¯t wrong.


    Roland shook his head, his grip tightening around his shield. ¡°No.¡±


    Celeste¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Roland, this isn¡¯t the time¡ª¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s exactly the time,¡± he cut in. ¡°Morals aren¡¯t just for when things are easy. They¡¯re defined by what you do when you¡¯re under pressure.¡± He met her gaze, his voice unwavering. ¡°I will not use my power to interfere with a soul negatively.¡±


    Celeste¡¯s frustration flickered across her face. ¡°It¡¯s not about negativity, it¡¯s about survival.¡±


    Roland exhaled sharply. ¡°And I¡¯m telling you, this is a slope I won¡¯t start down. It feels wrong, so it is wrong.¡±


    For a moment, neither of them spoke.


    Then Celeste clicked her tongue, rubbing her temples. ¡°Fine. You won¡¯t use Soul Touch. That doesn¡¯t change the fact that we need to get out of here.¡±


    Roland nodded. ¡°You¡¯re right. It¡¯s the best option. But it¡¯s not the only option.¡±


    His mind raced. There had to be another way. The Veil-ling was watching them, testing them. If it had wanted them dead, it would have attacked by now. That meant there was still room to act.


    He glanced at Celeste, his determination solidifying. ¡°We need a new plan.¡±


    Roland took a slow breath, steadying himself. He had an idea¡ªbut it was reckless. Dangerous. Still, it was better than using Soul Touch. He just needed Celeste¡¯s knowledge to make it work.


    ¡°We collapse the space,¡± he said.


    Celeste shot him a look. ¡°That¡¯s not a plan, that¡¯s a death wish.¡±


    ¡°No, listen,¡± Roland insisted. ¡°The labyrinth is already weak. We¡¯re outside the boss¡¯s domain, which means the walls here are thin. If we can drain enough divine energy, the entire section should collapse on itself.¡±


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    Celeste frowned, considering. ¡°It¡¯s possible¡­ but if we do that, we¡¯ll be trapped. Without an active connection to the World tree, the labyrinth won¡¯t grow. We¡¯d be stuck inside dead space with no way out.¡±


    Roland shook his head. ¡°Not if we force it to grow.¡±


    Celeste¡¯s expression shifted, curiosity flickering behind her caution. ¡°You think we can force a new passage?¡±


    Roland nodded. ¡°The boss Veil-ling is already channelling energy into the walls. That means the labyrinth can still change, still reshape itself. If it can do it, so can we.¡±


    Celeste¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°That¡¯s a risky assumption.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s better than giving up,¡± Roland shot back.


    She hesitated, then sighed. ¡°The idea has merit,¡± she admitted. ¡°But if we collapse the labyrinth and fail to grow the passages, we¡¯re dead. You realise that, right?¡±


    Roland exhaled. ¡°I do.¡±


    Celeste shook her head. ¡°Then you also realise that Soul Touch is still the best option.¡±


    Roland¡¯s jaw tightened, but he didn¡¯t respond. He knew she was right. But right and acceptable weren¡¯t always the same thing.


    Still, this was the only plan he could live with.


    And if they couldn¡¯t force the labyrinth to grow?


    Then they weren¡¯t leaving at all.


    Roland watched Celeste closely, seeing the way her eyes flicked across the space, weighing the risks. He could tell she was considering it, testing the logic in her mind, running through every possible failure.


    ¡°I wish we had time to test this,¡± she muttered. ¡°But the boss won¡¯t wait forever.¡±


    She exhaled sharply, then nodded. ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll do it your way. But if this doesn¡¯t work, I swear I will haunt you for eternity.¡±


    Roland smirked. ¡°Noted.¡±


    The two of them knelt, placing their hands against the labyrinth walls, and began to pray. Their voices wove together, calling upon the forces that shaped the Veil, asking for aid¡ªnot to reinforce, but to drain.


    " Guardian of bark, eternal shield,


    Draw back the tide, let the walls fall.


    Unravel thread, unbind the chain,


    Return the path to void again.


    By root unbroken, by branch untamed,


    Let the Worldtree reclaim what was claimed."


    The divine energy in the walls trembled. The silver-threaded veins of power flickered and dimmed as the structure of the labyrinth withered.


    The wolf-like Veil-ling reacted too late. Its silver-fire eyes widened as it sensed what was happening, but before it could move¡ª


    There was a snap.


    The walls collapsed.


    For a moment, Roland thought they had done it. Then he looked past the crumbling stone¡ªpast the shattered labyrinth¡ª


    And saw nothing.


    An empty, starless void stretched before them, vast and infinite. The very fabric of the labyrinth had been torn, and now there was nothingness beyond.


    The air rushed out in an instant, pulled into the vacuum. Roland felt his lungs contract, felt his skin prickle as the pressure dropped.


    Then Celeste moved.


    She didn¡¯t hesitate¡ªshe slammed her hands against the broken wall and cast a healing prayer.


    The Veil reacted immediately. The torn space knit itself back together, divine energy flowing into the wound like flesh sealing over an open cut.


    The air snapped back into place, and Roland gasped, taking in a sharp, desperate breath. His body trembled slightly as he forced himself upright, the reality of what just happened sinking in.


    He had a lot of learning to do.


    Beside him, Celeste let out a laugh, her eyes alight with exhilaration.


    Beryn, still slumped in the wagon, groaned. ¡°What¡­ is so funny?¡±


    Celeste grinned wildly. ¡°Because if I can heal the labyrinth, that means we can grow it.¡±


    Beryn frowned, still catching his breath. ¡°So?¡±


    ¡°So,¡± Celeste said, voice triumphant, ¡°we¡¯re not stuck.¡±


    Beryn, still slumped in the wagon, asked the obvious question. ¡°So¡­ how do we know where to grow?¡±


    Celeste didn¡¯t even hesitate. ¡°Soul gaze.¡±


    Roland blinked. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°There are still smaller Veil-lings around,¡± she explained. ¡°You can see them. We find a dead end and aim for them. If there¡¯s a soul on the other side, then there¡¯s space to grow into.¡±


    Roland had never considered using his gift like that. But she was right¡ªhe could see souls. He exhaled, rolling his shoulders. ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s try it.¡±


    With that, they began moving through the labyrinth, following the winding paths, searching for signs of life. Occasionally, Roland would spot Veil-lings lurking in the shadows of another passage, separated from them by thin, brittle walls. Beryn, despite still looking half-dead, insisted on hunting them down whenever possible.


    Roland couldn¡¯t tell if Flameborn were honorable or just stupid.


    Eventually, they found what they were looking for¡ªa dead end with a soul just beyond it. Close.


    Celeste wasted no time. She pressed her hands to the wall and whispered a healing prayer.


    Nothing happened.


    Or if it did, it wasn¡¯t noticeable.


    Celeste frowned, and for a brief moment, her shoulders sagged.


    Roland felt a prickle of concern. ¡°Celeste?¡±


    She let out a long sigh. ¡°I figured this would happen.¡±


    His chest tightened. ¡°Then why do you look so upset?¡±


    She scowled. ¡°Because I¡¯m about to lose more of my haul.¡±


    Roland exhaled, relief and exasperation mixing. ¡°Of course that¡¯s what you¡¯re upset about.¡±


    Celeste ignored him and started setting up. ¡°We need to feed the labyrinth. Divine essence holds raw energy¡ªif we put it back into the structure, it should respond.¡± Celeste arranged the divine essence carefully, pressing her hands to the brittle wall. She took a steadying breath and whispered a prayer.


    "Guardian of Bark, let the roots entwine, weave a path where none align¡ª"


    Nothing. Not even a flicker of movement.


    She frowned, adjusting her stance before trying again. "Veil-born paths, hear my call. Renew, restore, and open all¡ª"


    Still, the wall remained solid and unmoving.


    Roland watched as frustration crept into her expression. ¡°It worked before, why not now?¡±


    Celeste exhaled sharply, running a hand over her face. ¡°Because last time, I wasn¡¯t asking the Worldtree for help. The void¡ªthe space beyond¡ªbelongs to the Mothertree, and she listens to me. But this¡ª¡± she gestured at the labyrinth walls, at the shifting, ancient passageways, ¡°¡ªthis is the Worldtree¡¯s domain. And it won¡¯t listen to me.¡±


    Roland hesitated. ¡°So¡­ what do we do?¡±


    Celeste turned to him. ¡°You do it.¡±


    Roland blinked. ¡°Me?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°The Worldtree won¡¯t answer a Motherborn. It only listens to your kind. Your prayers are the only ones that will work.¡±


    Roland exhaled, stepping forward and pressing his hands against the cold surface of the wall. He closed his eyes, searching for the right words.


    "Guardian of Bark, we return what was taken. Let the roots drink deep. Let the path grow."


    A pulse of energy rippled through the stone. The divine essence flickered, shifting beneath his touch, then slowly sank into the wall like water absorbing into dry earth.


    The labyrinth trembled.


    Then, with a low, groaning creak, the wall shifted. Roots unfurled from the stone, weaving together into a passage that hadn¡¯t been there before. The way forward was open.


    Celeste let out a breath and clapped him on the shoulder. ¡°Well, looks like the Worldtree does like you.¡±


    The wall moved. The Veil pulsed, shifting like living stone, but the essence burned away at an alarming rate. The crystals dissolved into nothingness, their stored energy devoured by the hungry, dying space.


    Celeste watched in growing concern. ¡°We¡¯re going to run out.¡±


    Roland gritted his teeth. ¡°Not if we push it just enough¡ª¡±


    The last of the essence vanished.


    The wall finished shifting. A new passage formed.


    They had just barely made it.


    Celeste looked at what was left of their once-impressive pile of divine crystals and groaned. ¡°This is painful to look at.¡±


    Roland clapped her on the shoulder. ¡°We¡¯re alive, we¡¯re not trapped, and we know we can make this work.¡±


    Celeste sighed dramatically. ¡°Yes, yes, but at what cost?¡± She shot a mournful look at the diminished haul.


    Beryn chuckled weakly from the wagon. ¡°You have problems, CeeCee.¡±


    Celeste whipped around. ¡°Don¡¯t call me that.¡±

 Clean up

    The fresh air of Fraella was a welcome relief as they finally stepped out of the labyrinth. Roland rolled his shoulders, still feeling the phantom pull of divine energy from where he had forced the Worldtree¡¯s roots to obey. He exhaled and glanced up, finding familiar faces waiting for them.


    Winz and Pystria stood at the edge of the clearing, arms crossed. Beside them were two Flameborn¡ªa towering, broad-shouldered man with the same dark purple skin and bone-plated armor as Beryn, and a woman with a baker¡¯s apron still dusted in flour. Beryn¡¯s parents.


    Before Roland could say anything, Celeste clapped him on the back and strode toward the others. ¡°Come on,¡± she said to the Motherborn, motioning them to follow. ¡°We need to talk.¡±


    Roland watched as she led them a short distance away, speaking in low tones. He couldn¡¯t make out the words, but there were nods of understanding, a few glances back toward him, and then, finally, Winz and Beryn¡¯s father turned and walked off without another word.


    Celeste returned a moment later, dusting off her hands.


    Roland raised an eyebrow. ¡°Do I even want to know what that was about?¡±


    She smirked. ¡°Nothing you need to worry about.¡±


    That, of course, made him worry.


    Instead of pressing her, he took a deep breath. ¡°We¡¯re going back in, aren¡¯t we?¡±


    Celeste¡¯s expression turned serious. ¡°Yes.¡±


    Roland wasn¡¯t surprised. ¡°When?¡±


    ¡°Now.¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Alright.¡±


    This time, though, they wouldn¡¯t be going in alone.


    ¡°Winz and Beren will be coming with us,¡± Celeste explained. ¡°We need to finish off the boss before it establishes a domain link to this world. If that happens, it won¡¯t just be part of the labyrinth anymore¡ªit will anchor itself here, and dealing with it will be much harder.¡±


    Before Roland could respond, a loud groan cut through the conversation.


    Beryn crossed his arms, scowling. ¡°So what, I don¡¯t get to go?¡±


    His mother placed a firm hand on his shoulder, her voice calm but unyielding. ¡°You¡¯ve done enough.¡±


    Beryn opened his mouth to argue, but one sharp look from her was enough to shut him up. With a huff, he turned and stalked off, his mother following close behind.


    Roland smirked slightly. ¡°Guess that settles that.¡±


    A few minutes later, Winz returned, fully armored, his black stone-like skin reinforced with additional plating. His presence alone radiated an air of quiet power.


    Not long after, Beren arrived as well, a massive double-sided axe resting against his shoulder, its edges gleaming in the afternoon light.


    Roland exhaled, gripping his shield. This time, they had a proper team.


    And this time, they weren¡¯t coming back until the job was done.


    The labyrinth was already falling apart.


    It didn¡¯t take them long to find the Boss Veil-ling¡ªthe damage it had done in their absence made it impossible to miss. The walls trembled, cracks splitting through the grey stone, divine energy bleeding into the air like mist. Whatever lingering Veil-lings had remained, the Boss had slaughtered them. Even the divine essence scattered throughout the space had been consumed, torn apart in its growing fury.


    Celeste came to a halt, eyes scanning the destruction with a sharp, assessing gaze. ¡°It¡¯s unstable,¡± she murmured. ¡°If we don¡¯t finish this quickly, the whole thing could collapse while we¡¯re still inside.¡±


    Roland tightened his grip on his shield, ready to step forward, but Celeste caught his arm.


    ¡°No,¡± she said firmly. ¡°You¡¯re here to observe. Watch. Learn. Right now, you¡¯d only get in their way.¡±


    Roland exhaled through his nose but didn¡¯t argue. He hated standing back, but he understood. This wasn¡¯t his fight. Not yet.


    Celeste turned toward Winz and Beren as divine energy gathered at her fingertips. ¡°I¡¯ll give you both regeneration. That¡¯s all I¡¯m doing.¡±


    Winz smirked, flexing his massive hands. ¡°That¡¯s all we¡¯ll need.¡±


    Beren spun his axe once in his grip, his expression sharp and focused. ¡°Let¡¯s finish this.¡±


    The ground trembled.


    The Boss Veil-ling stepped from the shadows, silver-fire eyes locked onto them. It had been waiting.


    The massive shadow-wolf prowled through the broken remnants of its domain, its liquid form shifting unnaturally, silver-fire eyes narrowing as it took in the intruders. The moment it saw them, its lips curled back, revealing fangs that dripped with dark, shimmering energy.


    Winz stepped forward first, the ground shaking slightly beneath his sheer weight. His armor, a masterwork of Veil-forged metal and stone, pulsed with enchantments, golden lines flickering as they activated. His shield alone was taller than Roland, and his warhammer¡ªalmost comically oversized¡ªrested effortlessly against his shoulder.


    Beren stretched, his stance relaxed but predatory. Where Winz was an immovable wall, Beren was speed. He held his massive double-sided axe with ease, its edges glowing faintly from the divine energy coursing through it. The firelight reflecting off his bone-plated arms made him seem almost wreathed in flames.


    Celeste whispered a prayer, her hands glowing faintly as she cast a regeneration blessing over both of them. ¡°That¡¯s all I¡¯m giving you,¡± she said flatly. ¡°Don¡¯t die.¡±


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    Winz chuckled, rolling his neck. ¡°Not planning on it.¡±


    Then the fight began.


    The wolf lunged, its body blurring like ink dissolving in water. It was too fast¡ªone moment it was yards away, the next it was already mid-leap, claws extended toward Winz¡¯s head.


    But Winz was ready.


    He planted himself, shield rising in a single, fluid motion. The wolf¡¯s claws met the enchanted barrier with an earsplitting crash, but Winz barely budged. A burst of golden energy pulsed outward from the impact, the glow of his inspiration aura flaring.


    Beren didn¡¯t waste a second.


    The moment the wolf¡¯s attack stalled, the Flameborn vanished¡ªa blur of motion as he dashed to the beast¡¯s side. His axe sang as it cut through the air, striking at the wolf¡¯s exposed flank with terrifying speed.


    The first strike landed clean, a deep gash forming along the creature¡¯s shadowed body. Divine flames licked at the wound, burning away part of its form. The second strike came before the first had even finished its arc, Beren spinning the axe in a perfect follow-through.


    The wolf howled, twisting unnaturally, its form flickering like a dying flame. Before it quickly recovered and regenerated. Then it countered.


    It flowed instead of dodging, its body shifting away from the axe¡¯s path while simultaneously forming another limb¡ªa shadowy claw shooting out from its own side, aiming for Beren¡¯s chest. A new skill it must have gained from the extra divinity it had absorbed.


    Beren twisted, just barely avoiding a fatal strike, but the claw raked across his shoulder, tearing through armor like paper. He hissed in pain but didn¡¯t slow. The wound quickly regenerated thanks to Celeste''s blessing and didn¡¯t appear to have been poisoned.


    Winz moved instantly. He slammed his shield into the ground, a shockwave of divine energy surging outward. The sheer force sent the wolf skidding back, forcing it into a more solid form for just a moment.


    That moment was all Beren needed.


    He surged forward, his axe spinning in his grip before coming down in a brutal, fire-wreathed arc. The wolf snarled, trying to retreat, but Beren was already inside its movement.


    The axe cleaved deep, divine energy searing through the creature¡¯s form.


    The wolf howled again, its body flickering wildly, silver eyes blazing with desperation. It tried to lunge away, but Winz was already there.


    With a roar, the massive Starborn swung his warhammer in a full-bodied arc. The weapon, pulsing with stored divine energy, collided with the wolf¡¯s side with the force of a falling mountain.


    The creature was launched sideways, slamming into the labyrinth wall with an unnatural screech. The impact sent deep fractures rippling through the already-unstable space, cracks forming along the surface like broken glass.


    The wolf tried to rise, its shifting body struggling to hold itself together, but Beren was already on it, his axe poised for the finishing blow before it could regenerate again.


    It wasn¡¯t just speed or strength¡ªit was perfection. Every strike calculated, every movement refined from centuries of training. Beren moved like fire itself, relentless and precise.


    With one final motion, his axe came down, splitting the wolf¡¯s form in two.


    The Veil-ling gave one last, shuddering snarl¡ªthen collapsed into darkness.


    Silence fell.


    Winz exhaled, resting his hammer against the ground. ¡°Well,¡± he rumbled, ¡°that wasn¡¯t too bad.¡±


    Beren rolled his shoulder, wincing slightly at the wound on his arm. ¡°Could¡¯ve gone better.¡±


    Celeste smirked. ¡°Could¡¯ve gone worse.¡±


    Roland had barely moved during the fight, his hands clenched into fists, his soul gaze still flickering. He had seen everything. Every opening, every moment where hesitation could have cost them, every way the Veil-ling had adapted.


    And more importantly, he had seen just how far he still had to go.


    Then, without another word, Celeste practically skipped over to the remains of the Veil-ling, eyes gleaming with excitement. Roland had seen her eager before, but this was something else entirely.


    ¡°She¡¯s giddy,¡± he muttered under his breath.


    Winz rumbled a chuckle. ¡°Let her have her moment.¡±


    Celeste wasted no time, pulling a set of fine, razor-edged tools from her belt. The Veil-ling¡¯s shifting, shadow-like flesh was already beginning to dissolve, but she worked quickly, carving through it with practiced ease. Every piece mattered¡ªits hide, its claws, even the faint traces of divine energy still lingering in its bones. But the real prize lay deeper.


    The heart.


    When she finally cut it free, it pulsed faintly in her hands, a swirling core of dark, condensed energy. She held it up to the light, grinning like a cat with a fresh kill.


    Winz stepped forward, his heavy frame casting a shadow over her find. He examined the heart, his stone-like fingers running over its surface, his sharp gaze dissecting every inch of it. Roland could see his mind working, gears turning like a craftsman evaluating raw material.


    ¡°This,¡± he said finally, ¡°along with the pelt¡­ would make a fine cloak of regeneration.¡±


    Celeste¡¯s grin widened. ¡°That¡¯s what I was thinking.¡±


    Roland raised an eyebrow. ¡°A cloak?¡±


    Winz nodded. ¡°The Veil-ling could heal itself, shift its body at will. That power is still lingering in its remains. If reforged properly, the pelt could weave that energy into its wearer, allowing them to recover from wounds at an accelerated rate.¡± He turned the heart over in his hands. ¡°And this? If refined correctly, it could be the core of the enchantment.¡±


    Roland exhaled. ¡°That¡­ sounds incredibly useful.¡±


    Winz¡¯s lips curled in a rare, satisfied grin. ¡°It will be.¡±


    Celeste clapped her hands together. ¡°Well then, let¡¯s get this back to the forge.¡±


    Roland watched as they gathered the materials, feeling an odd mix of relief and exhaustion. The fight was over. The labyrinth was done.


    --


    It had taken two full days, with Winz and Pystria working tirelessly alongside a tailor, but the cloak was finished.


    Roland ran his fingers over the pelt, now refined into a deep black cloak with silver-threaded patterns that shimmered faintly under the light. The craftsmanship was flawless¡ªthe material smooth and impossibly light, yet he could feel the strength woven into it.


    Pystria adjusted the clasp at his shoulder, stepping back to admire their work. ¡°Unlike normal enchanted gear, this won¡¯t drain your mark,¡± she explained. ¡°It was made with a Veil-ling core, so anyone can use it¡ªas long as it stays charged.¡±


    Roland looked up. ¡°And how do I keep it charged?¡±


    ¡°There are a few ways,¡± Pystria said, holding up a finger. ¡°First, the easiest¡ªyou can use divine essence. Just press a crystal to the core, and it¡¯ll absorb the energy.¡± She raised a second finger. ¡°Or, if you don¡¯t have any on hand, you can use your mark¡ªbut that¡¯s going to take a toll.¡±


    Roland nodded, absorbing the information. He fastened the cloak properly, adjusting the weight on his shoulders. It fit perfectly. More than that¡ªhe could feel the enchantment settle over him, a subtle warmth beneath his skin, like a steady pulse of protection.


    With their preparations complete, Roland and Celeste finally left Fraella. None of the Motherborns came to say goodbye. Roland assumed that goodbyes were unnecessary for races that could live forever.


    The town had been an unexpected stop, but it had changed everything. He had entered the labyrinth with barely a plan and walked out with new allies, better equipment, and a clearer purpose. He wasn¡¯t sure how much of this was going according to Celeste¡¯s plans.


    Celeste led the way, striding forward with purpose. Roland followed, his new cloak settling comfortably around his shoulders, its heft reassuring. He had no doubt she had already planned out their next steps.


    Sure enough, she glanced back at him with a smirk. ¡°We¡¯re heading to another gate.¡±


    Roland raised an eyebrow. ¡°Another one? Already?¡±


    ¡°This one¡¯s larger,¡± she admitted. ¡°More dangerous. But it¡¯s necessary.¡±


    Roland exhaled, adjusting the strap of his pack. ¡°You really don¡¯t like easy jobs, do you?¡±


    Celeste chuckled. ¡°No point in wasting time. We have two years to get much stronger.¡±


    Roland frowned. ¡°Two years for what, exactly?¡±


    She turned fully, her expression more serious now. ¡°To help some of the Motherborn return home.¡±


    Roland blinked. He hadn¡¯t expected her to say it outright, but hearing it confirmed sent a fresh wave of resolve through him.

 The Forsaken

    The forest stretched endlessly around them, the thick canopy casting long shadows over the winding dirt path. Sunlight barely pierced through the dense foliage, dappling the ground with patches of shifting gold and green. The air smelled of damp earth, rich with the scent of moss and fallen leaves.


    With a slow exhale, Roland tightened his backpack straps, already sensing the arduous journey ahead. They had been walking for nearly two weeks since leaving Fraella, and still, Celeste hadn¡¯t given him a clear answer about why they were travelling so far to close this particular gate.


    ¡°Still not gonna tell me why we skipped over all the closer ones?¡± Roland asked, breaking the silence.


    Celeste smirked, not bothering to look back at him as she walked. ¡°Because this one¡¯s different.¡±


    Roland huffed. ¡°That¡¯s not an answer.¡±


    She finally glanced over her shoulder, silver-blue eyes gleaming with something he couldn¡¯t quite place. ¡°It¡¯s an invitation to ask better questions.¡±


    Roland rolled his eyes but didn¡¯t push her¡ªyet.


    He remembered how insistent she had been when they first left Fraella. She had pulled out a newly updated map, marked with the latest information from Fraella¡¯s scouts. Without hesitation, she had honed in on a location to the south, nestled deep within a remote mountain range. She had been guarded about it then as well, only revealing that she needed to confirm something before she could explain anything more.


    The first week of travel had been almost peaceful, if not for the sheer emptiness of the land. They had passed through rolling plains, crossed a few small rivers, and even camped in the ruins of an old Waypoint shrine¡ªone of many abandoned structures left behind by forgotten travellers. They had avoided any of the old worldborn settlements.


    But as they pushed deeper into the wilds, something about the land changed.


    The forest had long since turned unfriendly. The deeper they travelled, the heavier the air became, thick with something unseen yet unmistakably wrong. The silence stretched unnaturally, the kind that pressed against the skin and made the mind itch with paranoia. Roland had spent years in the wild, but this was different. There were no birds, no distant rustling of small creatures, no wind shifting the branches above. Just the steady crunch of their boots on the worn path and the ever-present hum of something just outside perception.


    Roland had spent enough time in dangerous places to recognise when something was watching them. But no matter how many times he used his soul gaze, he saw nothing.


    ¡°Celeste,¡± he muttered one night by the campfire, staring into the darkness between the trees. ¡°Tell me you feel that.¡±


    She stirred from where she was tending to the flames, not looking up. ¡°Feel what?¡±


    ¡°This place. It¡¯s¡­ wrong.¡±


    Celeste finally glanced at him, her expression unreadable. ¡°It''s not just wrong. But¡­ ancient.¡±


    Roland frowned. ¡°That¡¯s not comforting.¡±


    ¡°It wasn¡¯t meant to be.¡±


    She offered nothing more, and though Roland considered pressing the issue, he knew it wouldn¡¯t matter. Whatever was coming, Celeste had already made up her mind to see it through. He would just have to wait for the answers to come.


    It wasn¡¯t until the fifteenth day that they finally reached the base of the mountain range, where the narrow path they had been following suddenly veered sharply, leading them toward a deep ravine. The sheer drop into darkness below made Roland¡¯s stomach turn. Jagged rock formations jutted out from the depths, and somewhere far, far below, water rushed unseen, a distant and haunting echo.


    Celeste perched herself on a boulder near the edge, letting Roland catch up.


    ¡°You really want to know what we¡¯re walking into?¡± she asked, arms crossed.


    Roland sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°Celeste, I swear¡ªif you don¡¯t just tell me¡ª¡±


    She exhaled and leaned back slightly.


    ¡°A suspected active Deathborn lab.¡±


    Roland stopped breathing for a moment. He turned to her slowly. ¡°A what?¡±


    ¡°An active Deathborn¡¯s laboratory,¡± she repeated. ¡°Or what¡¯s left of one. The scout reports were¡­ inconsistent at best.¡±


    His chest tightened. He had only just begun to grasp what it meant to wield Mortana¡¯s gift, and now Celeste was leading him straight to a place where that power might have been twisted into something unnatural. Whatever was happening here, he doubted it came from someone using Mortana¡¯s blessing as it was meant to be used.


    He wondered what Celeste¡¯s true goal was.


    ¡°And you didn¡¯t think to mention this before?¡±


    Celeste shrugged. ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure it was real until we got closer. There were just rumors¡ªwhispers of a fortress where the dead still walk.¡±


    Her casual tone did nothing to ease the weight settling in his gut. This wasn¡¯t just another gate. This was something worse.


    Roland clenched his fists, trying to calm the unease building in his chest. ¡°Why?¡±


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    Celeste¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°Because if it¡¯s an improper lab, it had to be stopped.¡±


    Roland narrowed his eyes. ¡°Improper?¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Not all Deathborn research is wrong, Roland. You know that. Soul Touch, the study of the Veil, even resurrection¡ªthose things aren¡¯t evil in themselves. The gods don¡¯t forbid knowledge. They only punish those who take it too far.¡± She looked toward the distant cliffs. ¡°That¡¯s why I didn¡¯t tell you before. I needed to be sure. If this is just research? Just another Deathborn trying to understand their gift? We would walk away.¡±


    Roland exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. ¡°And  if it¡¯s not?¡±


    Celeste¡¯s eyes hardened. ¡°Then we burn it to the ground.¡±


    They walked for a few more hours, winding their way up the steep incline of the mountainside. The road had long since broken apart, the remains of an old trade path now barely more than cracked stone buried beneath thick undergrowth. The climb was gruelling, the air growing thinner the higher they went. Every step brought them closer to the feeling that they were being watched.


    Then, Celeste suddenly stopped.


    She lifted a hand, pointing toward the far cliffside. ¡°That,¡± she said, ¡°is our destination.¡±


    Roland followed her gaze and felt his stomach tighten.


    The fortress loomed against the mountainside, its black stone walls blending seamlessly into the cliff face, as if the rock itself had swallowed it over time. Towering archways, long since crumbled, framed what must have once been grand entrances, now choked with creeping roots and tangled vines. Time had half-buried it, erasing all signs that it had ever been built. If Celeste hadn¡¯t pointed it out, he might have mistaken it for just another jagged formation in the landscape. Now that he looked closer Roland could see the full scale of the fortress.


    ¡°How the hell has no one noticed this before?¡± he muttered.


    Celeste leaned against a nearby boulder, arms crossed. ¡°Because ruins like this are everywhere,¡± she said. ¡°The Motherborn have been walking the worlds since before your kind were even created. They¡¯ve built cities, fortresses, temples¡ªsome abandoned, some still hidden. There¡¯s no tracking them all.¡±


    Roland frowned. ¡°Even one like this?¡±


    She gestured toward the fortress. ¡°Especially one like this. The best way to hide something is to let time do the work for you.¡±


    Roland exhaled, turning back to the ruins. The idea that there were countless places like this¡ªold, forgotten, possibly still holding secrets from the Veil Keeper Wars¡ªmade his skin crawl.


    They crept closer, careful not to disturb the unnatural stillness around them. Roland kept his soul gaze open, scanning the ruins for anything out of place. It didn¡¯t take long before he saw it¡ªa soul, but something about it was wrong.


    At first, it looked like any other, glowing faintly against the backdrop of the ruined fortress. But as he focused, a chill ran down his spine. The soul wasn¡¯t just there, it was tied down. Strands of something unseen, something twisting, anchored it in place. It flickered, struggled, but no matter how it wavered, it didn¡¯t move.


    ¡°I need to get closer,¡± Roland murmured.


    Celeste gave him a sharp look but didn¡¯t stop him. Together, they moved forward, keeping to the cover of broken stone and thick roots. When they rounded the next corner, Roland felt his breath hitch.


    The sight that greeted him was horrifying.


    It was a Worldborn, a knight in rusted, broken armor, but his flesh was wrong. His skin had already begun to decay, peeling in places, revealing sickly pale muscle beneath. His fingers twitched against the hilt of a sword, his stance stiff, unnatural. He stood like a man who hadn¡¯t drawn breath in a long time.


    Celeste didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°We need to talk to it.¡±


    Roland glanced at her. ¡°Talk to¡ª?¡±


    Before he could finish, she had already stepped forward, daggers loose in her hands. ¡°Who are you?¡± she asked, her voice steady.


    The knight¡¯s head snapped toward them, and Roland had to fight the instinct to raise his weapon.


    Then, to their shock, it spoke¡ªor at least, it tried to.


    A low, rattling sound pushed from its throat, the words wet and broken, the decay having set in too far. But its meaning was clear.


    "Kill me."


    Roland froze. He had expected hostility, madness, but this was neither. There was no rage, no mindless hunger¡ªjust a plea.


    Celeste, however, didn¡¯t hesitate.


    With one swift motion, she closed the distance, daggers flashing. She buried both blades into the knight¡¯s chest, straight through the decayed armor. The force of the blow should have been enough to kill anything.


    The knight staggered, a guttural noise escaping its lips.


    Then, slowly, it straightened again.


    The wounds were still there, fresh and leaking, but the knight didn¡¯t fall.


    Roland took a step back. ¡°Celeste¡ª¡±


    ¡°I see it,¡± she said, voice grim.


    The knight lifted its broken sword slightly, as if confused. It looked down at the new wounds in its body, then back at them, uncertain.


    "I am dead." The knight¡¯s voice was barely more than a whisper now, each word slurred and broken, as if the decay had reached more than just his flesh. "I need¡­ to move on."


    Celeste¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°Then why haven¡¯t you?¡±


    The knight twitched, a violent shudder running through its already broken frame. It didn¡¯t answer, but Roland could see the truth plain as day.


    Its soul was still there, still trapped.


    Roland swallowed hard, unease pooling in his gut. Souls weren¡¯t meant to linger like this. Whatever was binding it wasn¡¯t letting go.


    He took a slow step forward, carefully drawing on his training. He muttered a quiet prayer for the dead, a simple rite meant to guide lost souls beyond the Veil. The words left his lips, the divine energy in his mark stirring¡ªbut nothing happened.


    The knight stood, unmoving. His soul flickered but did not waver.


    Roland tried again, putting more force into the words using more power from his mark, but the result was the same. The soul didn¡¯t want to stay. It simply couldn¡¯t leave.


    His fingers curled into fists. He didn¡¯t want to do it, but if a simple rite wouldn¡¯t work, then he had no choice. Stepping closer, he reached out with Soul Touch, his awareness stretching into the flickering presence before him. If he could just sever whatever was holding it, if he could¡ª


    Pain jolted through his fingers.


    He recoiled sharply, gritting his teeth as the sensation faded. That was not supposed to happen. Whatever was binding the soul was stronger than his ability to interact with them.


    Roland exhaled, frustration bubbling beneath his skin. ¡°It¡¯s stuck.¡±


    Celeste raised a brow. ¡°I figured that much.¡±


    He turned back to the knight, whose vacant eyes followed him with an eerie sort of awareness. It hadn¡¯t moved since he had tried to help. It simply stood there, waiting.


    Then it took a step forward.


    Roland tensed. The knight took another step, slow but deliberate.


    Then another.


    It was following them.


    Roland took an uneasy step back. "Celeste¡ª"


    Before he could say anything else, she moved.


    In one swift, brutal motion, Celeste lunged forward, daggers flashing. With surgical precision, she severed both of the knight¡¯s feet at the ankles. The force of the blow sent it crashing to the ground, the dull thud of metal and decayed flesh ringing through the ruins.


    Roland stared at her, jaw tightening. "Was that necessary?"


    Celeste flicked the blood from her blade, unfazed. ¡°Yes.¡±


    His hands clenched. ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be helping¡ª¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re supposed to be understanding,¡± she cut in sharply. ¡°I needed to see how strong this reanimation is and how it works.¡±


    Roland exhaled sharply, shoving down his frustration. She wasn¡¯t wrong, but that didn¡¯t mean he liked it.


    The knight¡ªfootless and now crawling¡ªlet out another slurred whisper.


    "I am dead. I¡­ I need¡­ to move on."


    Roland could still hear the desperation in its voice. And yet, it still wasn¡¯t dying.


    Which meant they needed to figure out how to help it.

 Nallensen

    They moved closer to the fortress, and the same scene played out over and over. Each time, Roland felt the unease settle deeper in his chest.


    The undead weren¡¯t attacking.


    The first few had been little more than husks¡ªhalf-rotted, empty remnants that barely held together. But the closer they got to the fortress, the less decayed the bodies became. These ones moved with purpose.


    A knight stood at an old watch post, staring blankly into the distance, his fingers twitching near the hilt of his sword. A pair of soldiers walked a slow, deliberate patrol, their rusted armor clinking as they moved in practiced formation. Further ahead, a woman knelt in what had once been a garden, her damaged fingers pressing into long-dead soil, as if tending to plants that no longer grew.


    Roland swallowed hard. ¡°They¡¯re still¡­ trying to live.¡±


    Celeste, walking a few paces ahead, didn¡¯t look at him. ¡°Yes.¡±


    That single word sent a chill through him. There was an edge to her voice, a quiet fury simmering beneath the surface. Roland had noticed it growing stronger the closer they got, her silence stretching longer, her movements sharper. She hadn¡¯t spoken much during the walk, but now her body language carried a tension that hadn¡¯t been there before.


    When he first heard they were heading to a Deathborn laboratory, he had expected a battle¡ªhad braced himself for a desperate fight to force their way inside, to cut down whatever horrors lurked within, defeat whoever was controlling this place, and close the gate.


    But there was no resistance.


    As they drew closer, the air shimmered, a faint distortion rippling across the stone. Then, like a curtain being pulled away, the ruined walls and crumbling towers shifted¡ªthe decay vanished, replaced by pristine black stone and towering archways untouched by time. The fortress was whole.


    Roland¡¯s breath caught. What had once been a ruin was now a living stronghold, its gates open, its halls waiting.


    The path was clear.


    The fortress wanted them to come inside.


    The feeling in Roland¡¯s gut twisted, but he forced himself to move forward. They had come too far to turn back now.


    And so, in silence, they passed through the gates.


    Waiting for them at the door stood a Deathborn, his red skin stark against the deep black of his finely tailored suit. His wiry hair was carefully groomed, slicked back in a way that gave him an air of effortless refinement. Every detail of his appearance¡ªfrom the polished cufflinks to the measured stillness in his posture¡ªspoke of nobility. A man who carried himself not just with confidence, but with the certainty that he belonged above others.


    Yet it wasn¡¯t his bearing or his attire that made Roland hesitate. It was his aura.


    Of all the Motherborn he had met, this one terrified him. It wasn¡¯t the cold presence of the undead knights, nor the unnatural silence of the fortress itself. This was something else entirely¡ªan overwhelming sense of power, ancient and controlled. Standing before him, Roland felt like a child barely able to grasp the depths of what it meant to carry a Deathborn gift.


    The man offered a slow, measured smile. ¡°Welcome. You may call me Nallensen,¡± he said, his voice smooth and rich, carrying the weight of experience. ¡°Veil Keeper, scholar, and¡ªas you may have gathered¡ªmaster of this fortress.¡± His crimson eyes flicked between the two of them, lingering on Roland for just a second longer. ¡°You have come a long way. It would be a shame to continue this conversation at the doorstep. Won¡¯t you come inside? I insist¡ªwe share a drink.¡±


    He gestured toward the open doors of the fortress, where the dim glow of candlelight flickered within. The invitation hung between them, both polite and absolute.


    Celeste accepted his invitation with a respectful nod. ¡°Thank you for your hospitality, Nallensen,¡± she said smoothly. ¡°I am Celeste, Veil Keeper of Viridara, and this is my partner, Roland¡ª Veil Keeper of the Worldborn.¡±


    Nallensen¡¯s gaze shifted toward Roland, and for the first time, something flickered behind his composed expression. A brief moment of recognition, maybe even regret. Roland caught it, but before he could dwell on it, the Deathborn¡¯s noble bearing returned, unreadable once more.


    The inside of the fortress was nothing like the decayed ruins he had expected. Instead, it resembled a noble¡¯s estate, pristine and untouched by time. The air carried the faint scent of fresh flowers, carefully arranged in polished vases along the hallways. The floors gleamed, reflecting the flickering glow of elegant chandeliers overhead. Dozens of paintings adorned the walls, each depicting scenes of old battles, distant landscapes, and regal figures whose names had likely been lost to history.


    They were led into a lavishly furnished sitting room, where a long table had already been set with an immaculate tea service. Steam curled from delicate porcelain cups, the rich aroma of spiced tea filling the air. Roland¡¯s eyes flicked toward the source of it¡ªa living servant, standing off to the side, waiting silently.


    The whole scene felt surreal.


    He had braced himself for a graveyard of horrors, a cursed laboratory filled with failed experiments and restless dead. Instead, he found himself seated in the home of a man who had prepared tea for them like they were honored guests.


    And that, somehow, was far more unsettling.


    Celeste set down her teacup gently, her fingers lingering on the delicate porcelain. ¡°Your hospitality is appreciated,¡± she said, her tone measured, ¡°but I have to ask about the ones outside.¡± She didn¡¯t press immediately, instead watching Nallensen carefully, waiting to see how he would respond. ¡°The ones still walking the fortress grounds. They seem¡­ lost.¡±


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    For the second time, something in Nallensen¡¯s polished exterior wavered. His expression softened, the sadness in his eyes unmistakable. ¡°Yes,¡± he murmured, looking toward the far wall as if he could see them even from here. ¡°They are my failed experiments.¡±


    Roland, who had been gripping his cup without drinking, set it down. ¡°Failed experiments?¡±


    Nallensen sighed, but there was no shame in his voice, only determination. ¡°I am trying to extend the lives of the Worldborn,¡± he admitted. ¡°Not just slow their aging, but truly extend it. And if they should fall? To bring them back.¡± He turned his gaze to Roland, and there was something almost hopeful in his expression. ¡°I want to replicate the resurrection abilities of the gods.¡±


    Roland felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. ¡°And¡­ can you?¡± He had become a follower of Mortana to try something similar but he had determined it was impossible. But maybe a Motherborn could do it.


    Nallensen smiled, but it wasn¡¯t triumph. It was frustration. ¡°Not yet. I have perfected the method of anchoring the soul¡ªas you have likely seen. That was my first success.¡± He gestured toward the room as if inviting them to take in his surroundings. ¡°I was even gifted an artifact, one that allows me to reanimate the body.¡±


    Roland glanced at Celeste, expecting anger, but she remained calm, only watching. Finally, she spoke. ¡°That is not the natural order, Nallensen,¡± she said, her voice suggesting something deeper. ¡°The dead should stay dead.¡±


    Silence stretched between them.


    Nallensen tilted his head slightly, as if considering her words. Then, his smile returned, not cruel, not mocking¡ªjust understanding. He reached for his own cup, taking a slow sip before setting it down with perfect precision.


    ¡°Then tell me, Celeste,¡± he said softly, ¡°if the dead should stay dead¡­ why are you here?¡±


    Roland stiffened.


    Celeste remained expressionless, but something in her posture shifted.


    Nallensen¡¯s crimson eyes gleamed, and his gaze drifted just slightly¡ªto her. Not the surface, not her body, but something beneath. ¡°I recognise those cracks on your soul,¡± he murmured. ¡°You wear them well.¡±


    Roland¡¯s breath caught.


    Celeste didn¡¯t react with anger. She sat still, her fingers resting lightly on the rim of her cup, her gaze dropping just slightly. When she spoke, her voice was quiet, but the heaviness in it was unmistakable.


    ¡°I wish I hadn¡¯t been brought back,¡± she admitted. ¡°I understand what I am. A mistake. A sin against the natural order.¡±


    Roland turned to her, surprised at the regret in her tone. He had always known she carried the burden of her past, but he had never heard her speak of it with such finality.


    Nallensen regarded her thoughtfully, tilting his head just slightly. ¡°Gods cannot sin against the natural order,¡± he said. ¡°They are the order. They create it, define it. If they will something, then it is natural.¡±


    Celeste finally lifted her gaze to meet his. ¡°No,¡± she said, firm but still quiet. ¡°The gods did not create the order. The Mother Tree did.¡±


    Something shifted in the air between them.


    Nallensen¡¯s smile remained, but the room grew tense, an unspoken challenge hanging between them. Roland tensed, sensing the conversation slipping into dangerous territory. But before it could go any further, Nallensen leaned back and folded his hands together.


    ¡°Tell me, Celeste,¡± he said, changing the subject with deliberate ease, ¡°how many other Worldborn partners have you had?¡±


    Celeste blinked, caught off guard.


    She hesitated, but there was no point in lying. ¡°Roland is my fifth.¡±


    Nallensen nodded, as if confirming something to himself. He lifted his cup once more, letting the pause settle before he finally spoke.


    ¡°I have watched forty-seven,¡± he said.


    Roland inhaled sharply, and even Celeste stiffened slightly.


    ¡°Forty-seven Worldborn partners,¡± Nallensen continued. ¡°Each one I trained, fought beside, called my friend.¡± His crimson eyes darkened. ¡°And I watched every one of them grow old and die.¡±


    He exhaled, the weight of those words hanging between them. ¡°Each one left a scar. Some of them were the best I had ever known.¡± He looked to Celeste, then to Roland. ¡°And you would tell me that the natural order is just? That it is fair?¡± His voice remained composed, but there was an edge to it now, a controlled grief buried beneath centuries of practised nobility.


    ¡°How is it not perverse,¡± he said, ¡°that one race should walk the worlds forever, while the other lives but a handful of breaths?¡±


    Celeste tensed, her grip tightening around the edge of the table. When she spoke, the measured restraint she had carried throughout the conversation snapped.


    ¡°You should be careful,¡± she said sharply. ¡°You¡¯re starting to sound suspiciously like Edward the Rebel.¡±


    Nallensen let out a soft chuckle, unbothered by her anger. ¡°Or perhaps he was Edward the Revolutionary,¡± he mused, swirling the tea in his cup before taking another slow sip.


    Roland glanced between them, sensing something deeper in the exchange. He didn¡¯t know who Edward was, but he could guess. Someone who had tried to rebel against the gods, someone who had likely shaken the foundations of the Veil Keepers themselves. And from the way Celeste reacted, it was clear his name was not one spoken lightly.


    His thoughts should have been focused on the danger, on the fortress full of the undead, on the Deathborn noble before him who had anchored souls to rotting bodies. But instead, something shifted in his perception.


    When he had first laid eyes on the walking corpses outside, he had assumed Nallensen was a monster. A necromancer, twisting death into something grotesque for his own gain. But sitting here now, listening to him speak, Roland wasn¡¯t so sure anymore.


    Nallensen was not some power-hungry sorcerer raising an army of the dead. He was a man who had lived too long and too close to the Worldborn. A man racked with guilt, grief, and regret.


    For the first time, Roland wondered if he even had the right to judge him.


    Roland could see the tension in Celeste¡¯s posture, the way her shoulders had drawn tight, the anger barely held in check. She was close to losing control. If he let this continue, it would spiral into something neither of them could take back.


    So he did the only thing he could¡ªhe stepped in.


    ¡°What about you, Nallensen?¡± Roland asked, keeping his voice even. ¡°Why are you here? What¡¯s your purpose?¡±


    The shift was immediate. Nallensen¡¯s sharp features brightened, the quiet sorrow in his expression replaced with genuine excitement.


    ¡°I was beginning to think you¡¯d never ask,¡± he said, leaning forward slightly. ¡°I am searching for a way to restore the body, to repair the damage that time and death inflict upon it. Anchoring the soul was only the first step, reanimating the body, the second. But neither of these things fix what was lost. What I need¡ªwhat I have spent lifetimes searching for¡ªis a way to regenerate the flesh itself.¡±


    Roland¡¯s mind pieced together the logic before Nallensen even finished.


    ¡°This is a world of the Lifeborn,¡± Nallensen continued, gesturing subtly around them. ¡°The domain of Viridius. If such a thing exists anywhere, it would be here.¡±


    Then, his gaze turned toward Celeste.


    ¡°And you, Celeste. You are a Lifeborn priest. You wield Viridius¡¯ power. Tell me¡ªcan you help me?¡±


    For the first time since they had arrived, Celeste hesitated.


    Roland turned to her, watching the conflict flicker across her face. He expected her to dismiss him outright, to tell him his research was blasphemy and that she wouldn¡¯t entertain the idea. But she didn¡¯t.


    Instead, she took a slow breath and met Nallensen¡¯s gaze.


    ¡°I need to think about it,¡± she said finally.


    Roland¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°Celeste¡ª¡±


    She held up a hand, silencing him before he could argue. Her expression was unreadable, but her voice was steady when she spoke.


    ¡°Healing something that is alive is one thing,¡± she said. ¡°But restoring something that Mortana has already claimed¡­ That is something else entirely.¡± She exhaled, the weight of her own words settling between them. ¡°I do not believe it is possible. Not unless one were a god themselves.¡±

 The Tour

    After the tea, Nallensen led them through the fortress with the grace of a host guiding honored guests through a noble estate. His servant followed a step behind, silent and watchful, though Roland still wasn¡¯t sure if the man was human or something else entirely. The man''s soul was strange and he didn¡¯t know what that meant. The halls were grand, lined with intricate stonework and banners that bore sigils Roland didn¡¯t recognise. It felt too pristine, too untouched by time, considering the horrors they had seen outside.


    Their first stop was a chamber deep within the fortress, past several reinforced doors that opened at Nallensen¡¯s touch. The air inside was heavy, charged with something unnatural, and at the center of the room sat an artifact.


    It was a construct of obsidian and silver, shaped like an inverted pyramid, suspended in midair by chains of pulsing shadow. The moment Roland stepped closer, he felt something press against him, like an unseen gaze had settled on his soul.


    Nallensen gestured toward it, his tone casual, but there was something reverent beneath his words. ¡°This is the foundation of my work,¡± he said. ¡°An artifact of unknown origin, given to me by a benefactor who believed in my research.¡± He glanced at Celeste. ¡°You asked me how I began? This was the answer.¡±


    Celeste folded her arms. ¡°And you never questioned where it came from?¡±


    ¡°Oh, I questioned.¡± Nallensen¡¯s lips curled into a slight smile. ¡°But answers are often less important than results. I spent twenty years studying it, deciphering its properties, refining my methods. I could never uncover any hidden functions, but my expertise does not lie in crafting or unravelling mysteries. Perhaps there is more to it, something I failed to see.¡±


    Roland narrowed his eyes. ¡°And what powers it?¡±


    Nallensen gestured toward the shadows twisting around its chains. ¡°It draws its energy from Nyxis, the Veiled One,¡± he said, voice turning thoughtful. ¡°The Shadowborn¡¯s god, known for binding things in secrecy.¡± He exhaled, stepping back. ¡°Fitting, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    Celeste frowned. ¡°Shadowborn magic. That explains a lot.¡±


    But Nallensen wasn¡¯t finished. He moved toward a nearby worktable, where a collection of small amulets lay arranged in careful rows. He picked one up between his fingers and turned it toward them.


    ¡°This,¡± he said, ¡°is what the artifact creates.¡±


    The amulet was simple, a thin band of metal wrapped around a polished onyx gem. But Roland felt its presence immediately.


    ¡°What does it do?¡± Roland asked.


    Nallensen¡¯s expression turned proud, almost fond. ¡°It binds a person¡¯s mind to their shadow, using Nyxis¡¯ power to animate them even after death. A simple solution to a complex problem.¡± He turned the amulet over in his hand. ¡°Their body moves as a puppet, controlled by what remains of their will.¡±


    Roland¡¯s stomach twisted. He thought back to the knights outside, the ones still walking their patrols, the ones still trying to live.


    Celeste¡¯s voice was sharp. ¡°You¡¯re forcing their souls to remain tethered and then binding their will?¡±


    Nallensen met her gaze, unflinching. ¡°I am ensuring they continue.¡±


    Roland had thought himself prepared for what Nallensen was doing here.


    He had been wrong.


    Nallensen held the amulet between his fingers, turning it thoughtfully. "Once the process is perfected, and their bodies are restored, they will have their lives back. They will thank me." His voice carried absolute conviction, as if there was no doubt in his mind that his work was righteous.


    Celeste exhaled through her nose, clearly holding back whatever retort burned at the edge of her tongue. Instead, she said nothing, and Nallensen took their silence as an agreement to continue.


    They moved further into the fortress, following him down a long, dimly lit corridor. This time, their path ended at a door unlike the others. While most of the fortress had been decorated with quiet nobility, this door was different¡ªintricate patterns of silver and obsidian inlaid into the black stone, runes carved with painstaking precision glowing faintly along the frame.


    It was more than a door. It was a boundary.


    The servant that had followed them so diligently stopped abruptly, refusing to take another step. Roland glanced back at him, but the man¡ªif he was truly still a man¡ªsimply lowered his head and remained where he stood.


    Nallensen didn¡¯t comment. He merely pushed the door open.


    The chamber inside was bathed in a soft, ethereal glow, the air far colder than the rest of the fortress. And at the center of the room, encased within a translucent crystalline box, lay a Worldborn woman.


    Roland stared. Unlike the other bodies they had seen, she was untouched by decay. Her form remained preserved, her expression peaceful, as if she had merely fallen asleep rather than passed beyond the Veil.


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    Nallensen stepped forward, and for the first time, his entire demeanor shifted. His noble poise softened, and when he looked at the woman, the sharp intelligence in his eyes dulled into something else entirely.


    ¡°She was my last Worldborn partner,¡± he murmured. His voice, always so controlled, was now hollow with grief. ¡°And the love of my life.¡±


    Roland remained still. He could feel it¡ªNallensen wasn¡¯t ready to let go. Not yet.


    Slowly, he extended his senses, letting his Soul Gaze reveal the truth beyond the crystal casing.


    And then he realised¡ªunlike the others, her soul was not bound.


    He had expected to see the same twisted tethers, the same force anchoring her spirit as the undead outside. But there was nothing. No unnatural force keeping her trapped.


    Which meant she could still move on naturally if the stasis was removed.


    Nallensen broke the silence before Roland could speak.


    ¡°I spent many years and paid with many experiences to secure the services of a Crystalborn,¡± he explained. ¡°Their kind has perfected the art of stopping time¡ªfreezing the body at the exact moment before death.¡± His fingers curled against the crystal casing. ¡°She is not gone. She is only waiting.¡±


    His voice was quiet, but there was hope in it.


    Hope that should have been impossible.


    Roland looked deeper, letting his Soul Gaze fully open. The soul within the crystal wasn¡¯t static like he had expected¡ªit wasn¡¯t locked in the same way the undead outside were. It was still active, still moving, still aware.


    A chill ran through him.


    How much did she know? How much had she felt over the years?


    He turned to Nallensen, his throat tight. ¡°She¡¯s not frozen,¡± he said carefully. ¡°Her body might be, but her soul isn¡¯t. It¡¯s still¡­ awake.¡±


    Nallensen exhaled slowly, resting a hand against the crystal casing. His expression remained calm, but there was something strained beneath it. ¡°I don¡¯t know how aware she is,¡± he admitted. ¡°Souls exist outside the laws of time. Perhaps she is simply waiting, or perhaps she drifts in a dreamless state, untouched by the passing years.¡± He looked down at her, his fingers tightening slightly against the glass. ¡°But in the end, it won¡¯t matter. Because once I find a way to restore her, to make her live forever, she will forgive me.¡±


    Celeste¡¯s jaw tightened, her entire posture stiff with unease. Roland could see it¡ªher patience was wearing thin.


    She had been willing to entertain the idea of helping Nallensen, to see if his research could be used to heal rather than defy death. But this? This was something else entirely.


    ¡°Nallensen,¡± Celeste said, and this time there was no attempt to soften her tone. ¡°You have to let them go. All of them. This is not the way.¡±


    He let out a quiet sigh, rubbing his temple as if she were missing the obvious. ¡°And let them be taken by time? By the whims of some distant god who would see them wither and vanish while we endure?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Celeste said simply. ¡°That is the way of things.¡±


    His lips pressed into a thin line, the first real sign of frustration cracking through his noble exterior. ¡°Then perhaps the way of things is wrong.¡±


    The divide between them was too vast to bridge. Nallensen and Celeste stood on opposite sides of a chasm neither was willing to cross. There was no point in arguing further, so they moved on.


    Nallensen led them deeper into the fortress, the air growing cooler, the stone walls giving way to something more clinical. This section was not a noble estate¡ªit was a laboratory, lined with pristine tables, neatly arranged tools, and books filled with intricate diagrams of the human body. At the far end of the room stood a row of crystal stasis chambers, each containing a lifeless figure, perfectly preserved.


    ¡°This,¡± Nallensen said, gesturing toward the room, ¡°is where I¡¯ve been working on restoring the body.¡± He let the statement linger for a moment before adding, ¡°Well, not me personally.¡±


    From the shadows, his servant stepped forward a worldborn, likely in his late forties, dressed in plain robes. His posture was rigid, his expression calm but worn, as though he had long since resigned himself to his work.


    ¡°This is Todd,¡± Nallensen introduced. ¡°A healer, marked by Viridius.¡±


    Todd inclined his head. ¡°It is an honor,¡± he said, his voice even. ¡°I have spent years trying to undo what death takes. While I have had success in healing normal injuries¡ªboth for Worldborn and Motherborn¡ªnothing I do works on those who have already passed.¡± His gaze shifted to Celeste. ¡°I was hoping you might have an idea.¡±


    Celeste frowned but stepped forward, examining the stasis-bound bodies. They were intact, their forms held in perfect suspension, but unlike Nallensen¡¯s wife, their souls were locked down.


    ¡°They¡¯ve already lost the seed of life,¡± she murmured.


    Todd nodded. ¡°That has been the greatest obstacle. The flesh remains, but the essence of life does not return.¡±


    Roland¡¯s gaze flicked toward Nallensen. He wasn¡¯t sure what unsettled him more¡ªthe fact that the Deathborn was trying this or the fact that he had failed. If he had succeeded, if he had found a way to bring them back¡­ what would that even mean?


    Celeste sighed, looking toward Todd with quiet resolve. ¡°I will help,¡± she said, ¡°but only on one condition.¡± She turned to Nallensen, meeting his gaze. ¡°If I fail, you will allow Roland to send this one''s soul on.¡±


    A long silence followed.


    Then, Nallensen nodded. ¡°Agreed.¡±


    They carefully unsealed one of the stasis chambers, the frost-like mist curling away as the body within was freed. Celeste moved quickly, calling upon every prayer, every blessing, every method of healing she had ever known. Divine light surged through her hands, flowing over the still form before her.


    Nothing happened.


    She tried again.


    Still, nothing.


    Viridius did not answer.


    Celeste lowered her hands, exhaling slowly. She had known the truth before she even began, but she had to try. She turned back to Nallensen, her voice heavy with finality.


    ¡°It will never work.¡±


    Nallensen watched in silence as Celeste stepped back from the body, the divine glow fading from her hands. His expression remained unreadable, but Roland could see it¡ªhe wasn¡¯t ready to let go.


    Finally, the Deathborn exhaled and shook his shoulder as if adjusting his thoughts. ¡°If the problem is the seed of life,¡± he said slowly, ¡°then why not transfer it from another source? Take it from one life¡­ and give it to another.¡±


    Celeste¡¯s entire body stiffened. Her expression darkened, eyes narrowing as she turned to face him. ¡°No.¡±


    Nallensen raised a brow, unfazed. ¡°Even if it worked?¡±


    ¡°Especially if it worked,¡± Celeste snapped. ¡°That isn¡¯t healing¡ªit¡¯s exchanging one life for another. You wouldn¡¯t be saving anyone. You¡¯d just be stealing.¡±


    Nallensen let out a soft hum, as if considering her words. ¡°And what if the life taken was¡­ undeserving?¡± He met her gaze, his crimson eyes gleaming with something colder now. ¡°There are plenty of people in this world who squander the breath they are given. Murderers, thieves, war criminals¡ªthe ones who bring only suffering. Would it truly be so wrong to take what they waste¡­ and give it to someone worthy?¡±


    Roland felt something twist in his stomach.


    Celeste¡¯s lips parted slightly, not in shock, but in disgust. ¡°You want to use criminals as test subjects?¡±


    Nallensen smiled. ¡°It would be the practical thing to do.¡±

 The Betrayal

    The tension in the room shifted from uneasy to dangerous. The air itself seemed heavier, charged with the weight of unspoken conflict. Roland could feel it like a storm about to break.


    Celeste straightened, her expression unreadable, but her voice was firm when she spoke. ¡°If you continue down this path, I will be Oath-bound to intervene.¡±


    Nallensen tilted his head, intrigued but unconcerned.


    ¡°I swore an Oath,¡± she continued, ¡°to ensure that the power granted by Viridius is never used to undermine the natural order again¡ªnever used to destroy what little balance exists in this world. If you twist life itself into something that can be taken at will, then you won¡¯t just be defying the gods, Nallensen. You¡¯ll be challenging the very foundation of society.¡±


    For the first time, Nallensen let out a genuine laugh. It was soft, almost amused, but something about it sent a shiver down Roland¡¯s spine.


    ¡°You speak with such conviction,¡± Nallensen mused. ¡°Tell me, little Treekiller, do you truly believe you have the power to stop me?¡±


    As the words left his lips, his Aura flared.


    The aura crashed down on them, a force so overwhelming that it became impossible to move. It wasn¡¯t just the pressure of a skilled warrior or the weight of an ancient scholar¡¯s knowledge¡ªit was pure divine energy, raw and unyielding, pressing into every inch of the space around them. The air itself warped, thick with power, as if reality bent under his presence.


    Roland felt it lodge in his chest, cold and suffocating, the same primal terror he had felt the moment he first laid eyes on Nallensen at the gates. But this was worse. This was the presence of someone who had spent centuries wielding the divine, someone who should not be opposed¡ªand yet, here they were.


    Celeste¡¯s expression did not change.


    ¡°No,¡± she admitted simply. ¡°But I would try anyway.¡±


    For a long moment, the two of them simply stared at one another.


    Then, Nallensen¡¯s Aura faded as quickly as it had appeared. He exhaled, almost disappointed, and gave a small shake of his head. ¡°You are fascinating, Celeste,¡± he said with something resembling genuine admiration. ¡°But ultimately¡­ irrelevant.¡±


    He turned away from them, already dismissive. "Your assistance has been invaluable," he remarked, adjusting his posture as if a sudden insight had clarified the situation. ¡°I now have a clear direction for my research. But your services are no longer needed.¡±


    The conversation was over.


    Celeste glanced at Roland. No words passed between them, but the message was clear.


    They had just become a problem for Nallensen. And now, they needed to leave.


    As they stepped beyond the fortress walls, the heavy air of the place still clinging to their skin, Celeste and Roland walked in silence, their thoughts a tangled mess of possibilities. Stopping Nallensen would not be simple. He was too powerful, too intelligent, and now, too certain of his path.


    Celeste let out a sharp breath, frustration bleeding into her voice. ¡°We should have ended this when we had the chance.¡±


    Roland didn¡¯t answer immediately. He wasn¡¯t sure he agreed.


    ¡°How?¡± he asked finally.


    Celeste hesitated. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    Neither did he.


    Stopping Nallensen? Maybe. But ending him? That was something else entirely.


    They had barely taken a few steps down the ruined path when the first sound broke the silence.


    A scraping, shifting noise.


    Then another.


    Then dozens more.


    Roland¡¯s grip tightened on his sword as figures emerged from the mist between the distant trees and the shattered ruins of the outer fortress walls.


    An army of undead.


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    They were not like the ones before. These did not wander aimlessly, did not cling to old routines of patrols or empty duty. These creatures moved with intent, their hollow eyes locked directly on Roland and Celeste.


    Celeste swore under her breath and took a step back. ¡°Nallensen¡ª¡±


    Roland shook his head. ¡°This isn¡¯t him.¡±


    Celeste shot him a sharp look. ¡°Then who?¡±


    He turned toward the fortress just in time to see the massive stone gate slam shut behind them, sealing them inside.


    His stomach dropped.


    If this were Nallensen, he would have faced them himself. No, this was something else¡ªsomething that could command the undead, something Nallensen had shown no interest in doing.


    This wasn¡¯t his will at work.


    Roland turned his gaze toward the towering fortress, and felt it¡ªa familiar pull, deep and unnatural.


    The artifact.


    The power at the heart of this place, the one Nallensen thought he had mastered.


    But it wasn¡¯t serving him.


    ¡°It¡¯s the artifact, I can sense it,¡± he said as he ready himself.


    The first undead reached them in an instant. Roland barely had time to react before a blur of metal and rotting flesh lunged at him, its rusted sword flashing in the dim light. He barely deflected the blow, his arms jarring from the force¡ªthese things weren¡¯t slow, shambling corpses. They moved like trained soldiers, fast, precise, and utterly relentless.


    Celeste twisted away from another attacker, her daggers flashing as she struck out, slicing clean through its side. The undead staggered but didn¡¯t fall. Instead, the wound barely slowed it down. It came back at her, movements smooth, its body snapping into place as though it didn¡¯t even feel pain.


    Roland ducked under a strike, pivoting behind his opponent before slashing across its spine. The body collapsed instantly.


    For a second, he thought it was over¡ªthen the corpse convulsed.


    Before he could step back, the limbs jerked violently, as if yanked by invisible strings. The undead twisted unnaturally, its broken body snapping into position, and then it stood again.


    Roland¡¯s heart pounded.


    It wasn¡¯t just reanimating. It was being pulled back together.


    Celeste stabbed another through the heart, a kill shot for anything living, but it barely staggered before turning toward her again. ¡°They¡¯re not stopping!¡± she hissed.


    Another knight crashed into Roland, nearly knocking him off his feet. They hit like warhorses, with no regard for their own defence, only momentum and destruction. He barely managed to brace his shield before the impact sent him skidding back.


    He saw it then¡ªthe faint, pulsing glow beneath the helmet, the eerie shimmer within the ruined skull. The amulet.


    ¡°Their heads!¡± Roland shouted. ¡°It¡¯s the amulets! That¡¯s what¡¯s controlling them!¡±


    Celeste didn¡¯t hesitate. She leaped onto her attacker, twisting as she drove her dagger straight into its skull, ripping at the metal band embedded in the rotted flesh. The amulet shattered¡ªand the undead collapsed instantly, like a puppet with its strings cut.


    That was the answer.


    Roland dropped low, narrowly avoiding a sword aimed for his neck, and with a powerful upward strike, he cleaved through his opponent¡¯s helmet, slicing clean through the amulet lodged in its skull. The body seized for a moment, then fell limp.


    But there were too many.


    The undead swarmed them, faster than anything he had ever fought. Even when they landed killing blows, it didn¡¯t matter. The moment the souls were forced back into the bodies, they would simply stand again unless the amulet was destroyed.


    ¡°Celeste!¡± Roland gritted his teeth, knocking an undead off balance with his shield. ¡°We¡¯re getting overrun!¡±


    ¡°I know!¡± she shouted, dodging a heavy strike and rolling into a crouch. ¡°We need to break them faster than they can stand!¡±


    Another wave of undead charged, relentless and unyielding.


    If they didn¡¯t end this fast, they wouldn¡¯t last much longer. They were getting desperate when they felt him before they saw him.


    The air thickened, humming with pure divine power, pressing down on the battlefield like an unseen hand. It wasn¡¯t just presence¡ªit was command, the kind that refused to be ignored. Roland¡¯s breath caught as his sword trembled in his grip, his body instinctively recognising the force of something far beyond him.


    Nallensen descended.


    He did not walk. He drifted down from the fortress wall, weightless, his long coat untouched by the wind. There was no shadow magic, no flickering tendrils of unnatural energy¡ªjust power, raw and unfiltered, woven into the air itself. It crackled around him, something ancient, something that had no place here.


    And in an instant¡ªthe battle was over.


    The undead jerked, as if suddenly seized by an unseen force. Then, one by one, the amulets embedded in their skulls ripped free, wrenched into the air by a power that had no need for gestures. The bodies fell where they stood, their unnatural puppetry finally, truly severed.


    Only when the last one dropped did Nallensen speak.


    And his voice shook the silence.


    ¡°I offered you drink and hospitality.¡± He did not raise his voice, but the sincerity behind it was unmistakable. ¡°We may have parted with disagreements, but a good host ensures the safety of his guests. Yet those behind this attack would besmirch my name.¡±


    This was not the cold amusement he had shown before, not the measured restraint of a noble carefully choosing his words. This was offence, deep and personal¡ªthe fury of a man whose very honor had been insulted.


    Roland took a step back, heart still hammering from the fight, but Nallensen¡¯s gaze was not on them. His crimson eyes burned as he surveyed the fallen, his expression unreadable¡ªuntil he moved.


    He stepped toward the nearest corpse, looking down at the hollowed remains of what had once been a man¡ªnot a soldier, not a monster, but a person. He knelt, fingers hovering over the lifeless form, his hands clenching into fists.


    ¡°These were my friends,¡± he said softly.


    Roland felt something twist in his chest.


    ¡°Some of them would have never raised a hand against you.¡± Nallensen exhaled slowly, forcing his breath into something measured, though his power still simmered in the air. ¡°Even when their bodies failed them, even when their breath was gone, they would have stood by me.¡± His voice darkened, anger breaking through the sorrow. ¡°And now, because of that damned artifact, they were forced to fight against their will.¡±


    Roland had expected many things from Nallensen. Cruelty. Arrogance. Indifference.


    But this? He did not expect.


    He looked toward the fortress, toward the artifact buried within, the source of all of this.

 Prelude to Battle

    Celeste spun to face Nallensen fully, her rage barely contained. ¡°You told us you didn¡¯t know where the artifact came from.¡±


    Nallensen let out a tired sigh, brushing dust from his coat as if this conversation was nothing more than an inconvenience. ¡°I said I didn¡¯t know but that was more in the sense that I never asked,¡± he corrected. ¡°It was more of a don¡¯t ask, don¡¯t tell situation.¡±


    Celeste stared at him, incredulous. ¡°You¡ª¡± Her voice caught, her hands clenching at her sides. ¡°You suspected Tarrus and you still used it?¡±


    Nallensen tilted his head, his expression utterly unapologetic. ¡°It was an incredible artifact. Too useful to discard over the possibility of an inconvenient benefactor.¡± His crimson eyes flicked toward the shimmering barrier trapping them in.


    Celeste took a step closer, the fury rolling off her in waves. ¡°Do you even realise what you¡¯ve done?¡± Her voice was sharp, her words cutting. ¡°If you had told us sooner, if you had just let us close the gate, we could have stopped this before it started!¡±


    Nallensen met her gaze, his expression unreadable, the usual amusement in his features dulled. ¡°Perhaps,¡± he admitted. ¡°But we are far past that point now.¡±


    Celeste exhaled sharply, forcing herself to calm down. She turned slightly, looking toward the fortress, then the barrier, then back to Nallensen. One last question.


    Her voice was quieter this time, but just as serious.


    ¡°Can you take him?¡±


    The air around them grew still.


    Nallensen didn¡¯t answer immediately. He turned his gaze toward the distant sky, where the first unnatural flickers of chaotic energy began to shimmer on the horizon.


    Then, he looked back at Celeste. His noble poise remained, his expression calm and composed. But for the first time since they had met him, Roland saw something else beneath the surface.


    Doubt.


    Slowly, deliberately, Nallensen shook his head.


    ¡°No,¡± he said simply. ¡°I cannot.¡±


    Nallensen let out a quiet breath before turning to Roland, his crimson gaze settling on him with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. ¡°Come here, young man,¡± he said, his voice calm but firm. ¡°I¡¯m going to teach you how to untie these souls.¡±


    Roland hesitated. ¡°Why?¡±


    Nallensen gave a tired smile. ¡°Because you¡¯ll need as many divine gifts as possible for what¡¯s about to happen.¡±


    Roland frowned, unsure what to make of that statement. He glanced toward Celeste, who had stopped her pacing just long enough to sigh and mutter, ¡°Divine payments.¡±


    Understanding clicked. Roland nodded and stepped forward.


    Nallensen studied him for a moment before continuing. ¡°The key to unlocking the souls is understanding how they were bound in the first place,¡± he explained. ¡°It¡¯s not some dark necromantic ritual¡ªit¡¯s pure divine energy, carefully woven around them, keeping them anchored.¡± His expression darkened slightly. ¡°Mortana¡¯s gift was meant to ease souls into the cycle, but power like that can be turned in many directions.¡±


    Roland let that sink in before finally asking, ¡°So how do I undo it?¡±


    Nallensen extended his hand, fingers shifting slightly as a faint glow pulsed at his fingertips. ¡°Use your soul touch and feel for the knots in the soul¡¯s tether¡ªwhere the divine energy tightens and refuses to let go. Unravel it, strand by strand.¡±


    It was easier said than done.


    At first, Roland struggled. His use of soul touch was inexperienced and delicate work like this was foreign to him. He could see the tethers in the first soul, the intricate weave of energy keeping it trapped, but untangling them was another matter entirely.


    But then, he felt it. A thread pulled loose, like undoing the first knot in a tangled rope. The soul shuddered, then slipped free, he recited the prayer and the soul vanished back into the cycle.


    A flicker of warmth passed through him. Faint but noticeable.


    His first divine payment.


    He moved on to the next. Then the next. The work was slow, and each soul only earned him a small amount, but by the tenth one, he could feel the difference. His body felt lighter, his mind sharper, as if some unseen force was subtly reinforcing him.


    Meanwhile, Celeste paced the grounds, her frustration growing with each step. She kept glancing at the fortress, at the artifact¡¯s barrier, then at the sky where Tarrus¡¯ chaos-filled presence loomed ever closer. She was thinking, but for once, she didn¡¯t seem to like any of her thoughts.


    Roland could hear her muttering to herself, half-formed plans discarded as quickly as they came.


    The air shifted. Not like when Nallensen had released his aura¡ªthis was different. Subtle at first, but soon undeniable. It was as if the very air itself had turned against them, becoming something that couldn¡¯t be trusted, something that no longer belonged in this world. Roland knew it had become chaos filled.


    Then, He or it appeared.


    A body, or at least something resembling one¡ªfloating, shifting, made entirely of smoke. It had no solid form, no defined edges, yet somehow, Roland could feel its presence, stronger than any physical being he had ever encountered.


    This was Tarrus.


    Roland had never heard much about the Chaosborn, and now he understood why. It wasn¡¯t that no one spoke of them. It was that they couldn¡¯t. Because how do you explain something like this? Who would believe you?


    Tarrus hovered before them, its form constantly shifting, never the same shape twice. Then, it spoke¡ªor maybe it didn¡¯t. The sound resonated through the air, vibrating unnaturally, as if the words weren¡¯t coming from any one place but from everywhere at once.


    ¡°Oh, Nally, nally Naaaaallensen.¡±


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    The floating figure of smoke twisted, its form coiling into something almost human before unravelling again. Its voice was light, mocking, filled with the kind of amusement that didn¡¯t quite reach its core.


    ¡°Why do you waver, hmm?¡± Tarrus drifted forward, circling Nallensen like a predator that had already won the hunt. ¡°You were so close. So close to breaking the great, stupid wheel! And now? You hesitate? Now, of all times?¡±


    Nallensen stood firm, but Roland could see the flicker of something uneasy beneath his mask of composure.


    Tarrus grinned, though it had no mouth to do so.


    ¡°Ahhh, I see it now,¡± it cooed, its smoky tendrils brushing against the air like unravelling threads. ¡°Something changed. Something got into that clever little head of yours.¡± It snapped¡ªthough the sound came from nowhere. ¡°Oh! I know! It was them, wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    snapped toward Roland and Celeste, its entire body twisting toward them so suddenly that Roland¡¯s stomach dropped.


    ¡°Did they whisper little doubts in your ear, Nallensen? Did they make you feel something inconvenient, hmm? Remorse? Guilt?¡± Tarrus gasped dramatically, clutching at its nonexistent chest. ¡°Oh, say it isn¡¯t so! Say the great, brilliant Nallensen hasn¡¯t been burdened by a conscience!¡±


    Celeste¡¯s hand twitched toward her daggers, but she didn¡¯t move. She wasn¡¯t stupid.


    Tarrus¡¯ form glitched, flickering between towering and small, between solid and vapour, before finally settling into something that vaguely resembled a nobleman¡¯s silhouette.


    Tarrus drifted closer, his form shifting like a slow-moving storm, folding in on itself in unnatural patterns. Though it had no face, no mouth, the words still came from everywhere at once, curling around Nallensen like a noose.


    ¡°Have you forgotten, old friend?¡± the voice purred, thick with mock sympathy. ¡°Have you forgotten what the gods stole from you?¡±


    Nallensen¡¯s expression remained unreadable, but Roland felt the shift in the air, saw the way his fingers twitched ever so slightly at his sides.


    ¡°They took them from you,¡± Tarrus continued, weaving around him, his presence pressing in like an unwanted embrace. ¡°One by one. Forty-seven partners, forty-seven graves. The best of them¡ªyour brightest, your strongest, your dearest.¡± His voice dropped lower, curling like smoke. ¡°And they left you behind.¡±


    Roland saw it then.


    Not anger. Not defiance.


    Pain.


    ¡°They could have given them more time,¡± Tarrus murmured, his voice turning almost gentle. ¡°But they didn¡¯t. Because they won¡¯t. They refuse to share what they hoard, and you know it. They let them grow old. Let them wither. Let them die, over and over again.¡±


    The air between them stilled, heavy with something unspoken.


    ¡°You know why you must do this,¡± Tarrus whispered. ¡°Because if you don¡¯t¡­ then nothing ever changes.¡±


    Nallensen did not answer.


    Celeste stepped forward, her voice cutting through the thick, unnatural air. ¡°What are you even doing here, Tarrus?¡±


    Tarrus barely acknowledged her, his smoky form shifting as he tilted his head, muttering to himself in that same light, mocking tone. ¡°An army¡­ yes, yes, that¡¯s what I need.¡± He twirled lazily in the air, stretching his ever-changing limbs. ¡°And Worldborn, ohhh, they breed like flies! So many of them, so short-lived, so desperate to cling to their little lives.¡± His tone had changed since only a few seconds ago. Roland didn¡¯t know what to think of this thing.


    Roland¡¯s grip on his sword tightened, but he forced himself to stay still.


    Tarrus snapped his fingers¡ªa meaningless gesture, but the air shook with it. ¡°The problem, of course,¡± he mused, ¡°is that my lovely little amulets require my¡­ personal touch.¡± His voice shifted, deepened, flickering between silk and smoke. ¡°A proper puppetmaster must control his puppets, after all.¡±


    Then, the grin in his voice sharpened.


    ¡°But you, dear Nallensen,¡± Tarrus turned to face him, his shapeless form pulsing, ¡°you¡¯ve made a breakthrough.¡±


    Nallensen¡¯s hands clenched, but he remained silent.


    Tarrus continued, weaving through the air as if he were dancing. ¡°You¡¯ve cracked something I couldn¡¯t. A way to anchor souls, to keep them trapped¡ªto make them move without needing me to pull the strings myself.¡±


    His voice dropped to a whisper, though it still came from everywhere at once.


    ¡°With your knowledge, I don¡¯t have to be a puppetmaster anymore¡­¡±


    The air shivered.


    ¡°I can be a god. I can dethrone those that Edward couldn¡¯t¡±


    And then, for the first time, Nallensen¡¯s mask cracked.


    Roland saw the flicker of hesitation in his eyes¡ªthe war inside him, the pull of ego, of curiosity, of possibility.


    That was when Todd broke the stalemate.


    ¡°Father!¡±


    The call shattered whatever hold Tarrus had been building.


    Todd took a step forward, his voice raw, desperate. ¡°Don¡¯t let him get into your head! Celeste is right¡ªthis is against the natural order!¡± His breath was uneven, but he didn¡¯t stop.


    ¡°Would Mother want this?¡± he demanded. ¡°Would she want you to turn the dead into things, into tools?¡± His fists clenched, his words shaking with emotion. ¡°You were furious before¡ªfurious that our friends were forced to fight, even after death. Would you do that to an entire world?¡±


    Nallensen flinched.


    A barely noticeable reaction¡ªbut Tarrus noticed.


    The Chaosborn froze, his shifting form going unnaturally still. Then, slowly, so very slowly, his head tilted toward Todd.


    ¡°Oh,¡± Tarrus cooed, his voice curling with delight. ¡°Now that¡¯s interesting.¡±


    Tarrus¡¯ form shifted, stretching unnaturally as his voice curled through the air like silk wrapped around a blade.


    ¡°A crossbreed,¡± he mused, the word rolling off his tongue like something both fascinating and disgusting. His shifting form drifted forward, smoky tendrils curling lazily through the air.


    ¡°Don¡¯t see many of you, and for good reason.¡±


    His voice slithered, slipping between tones, too fluid to sound truly human. There was mockery in it, but also something else¡ªcuriosity, as though Todd was some rare specimen Tarrus was deciding whether to dissect or admire.


    ¡°Children of two worlds,¡± he continued, his presence thickening, warping the space around him like reality itself was bending in discomfort. ¡°But you don¡¯t really belong to either, do you?¡±


    Roland could feel the gaze settle on Todd, analysing, tearing through him with unseen strings of power.


    Tarrus¡¯ voice softened, almost gentle¡ªalmost sympathetic.


    ¡°Must be awfully lonely.¡±


    Todd¡¯s breath hitched, but he held his ground. He didn¡¯t speak, didn¡¯t rise to the taunt, but Roland could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fists clenched at his sides.


    Tarrus chuckled, the sound vibrating through the very air, making the ground feel unsteady beneath them.


    ¡°Oh,¡± he sighed, tilting his head, his featureless form shifting as if watching Todd from every angle at once. ¡°I see it now.¡±


    Then, the air changed.


    Where before it had been playful, filled with mocking amusement, something sharp and deadly entered Tarrus¡¯ voice.


    ¡°No more distractions,¡± he purred. ¡°I need that clever little mind of yours, Nallensen, and your research won¡¯t finish itself.¡± His presence contracted like a coiled snake, then lunged toward Todd in a blur of motion.


    The attack came without warning¡ªpure chaos, a surge of shifting energy ripping through the air like a spear.


    And then¡ªNallensen was there.


    Faster than Roland had ever seen anyon move, faster than a man of his bearing should be able to, Nallensen intercepted the attack, his own divine power flaring outward in a blast of raw force. The impact sent cracks of golden light tearing through the ground, divine energy and chaos colliding in a violent, screeching clash.


    Roland barely managed to keep his footing as the shockwave rippled outward, sending dirt and shattered stone whirling into the air.


    Tarrus¡¯ attack dissipated, the force of Nallensen¡¯s power severing it before it could reach Todd.


    For a moment, everything was still.


    Then, Tarrus let out a low, amused hum.


    ¡°Oh, how predictable.¡± His smoky form recoiled, reforming with ease, as though the attack had meant nothing to him. ¡°You always did have a soft spot for your little pets, didn¡¯t you?¡±


    Roland didn¡¯t miss the brief flicker in Nallensen¡¯s expression¡ªthe momentary shift of something complicated beneath his noble composure. But he didn¡¯t respond.


    It didn¡¯t matter. Tarrus was already moving on.


    The fortress gates groaned.


    Roland¡¯s head snapped toward the sound just in time to see the massive stone doors begin to yawn open, their ancient hinges screeching under the strain. Cold air billowed out from within, thick with the stench of death¡ªbut not of decay. This wasn¡¯t the scent of rotting corpses. It was something worse.


    From the darkness beyond the gates, figures began to emerge.


    Roland¡¯s breath caught.


    They were massive, taller than any human, their twisted forms stitched together from things that did not belong. Some had multiple arms, others elongated spines, their flesh an unnatural patchwork of stolen bodies and Veil-born corruption. Their eyes¡ªif they had eyes¡ªburned with ghostly, hollow light, their very presence warping the air around them.


    These weren¡¯t Nallensen¡¯s creations. These weren¡¯t resurrected knights or tortured souls bound to bodies.


    These were something else entirely.


    Tarrus spread his arms wide, his shifting form practically buzzing with delight.


    ¡°Just a few puppets I brought back from the Veil,¡± he purred. ¡°Thought I¡¯d share.¡±


    The first of the undead charged.


    And the battlefield erupted into chaos.

 Counter Plans

    Roland couldn¡¯t keep up with the fight between Nallensen and Tarrus. He caught flashes¡ªblinding bursts of divine energy, the twist and ripple of chaos, the very air distorting under the weight of their power. But that battle was far beyond him.


    He had his own problems.


    The Chaos-forged puppets were relentless. They moved with a speed and precision that no normal monster should possess, their monstrous forms twisting unnaturally, striking with a force that rattled his bones. He was glad Nallensen had told him to free the souls before the battle. The divine payments he had earned had strengthened him, and he could feel that power flowing into his shield, letting him absorb strikes that should have shattered him.


    He had taken a few nicks and scrapes, but his cloak of regeneration pulsed with energy, knitting him back together just enough to keep him fighting. He wasn¡¯t fast enough to go fully on the offensive, so he focused on defence, keeping himself between the worst of the creatures and Todd, who was doing something Roland couldn¡¯t understand but assumed was important.


    Celeste, however, was thriving.


    Her movements were sharp, calculated, and deadly efficient. A strange purple haze clung to her daggers. Something Roland had never seen before. He couldn¡¯t tell what type of power it was and he didn¡¯t have much time to watch.


    He had a quick peek as she carved through a puppet¡¯s side. Roland expected there to be resistance.


    Instead, the flesh simply fell apart.


    Not like a normal wound. Not like a cut through something solid. It was as if the very binding of cells had been undone, the structure of the creature ceasing to exist where her daggers passed.


    It was horrifying.


    It was effective.


    But it was also draining her.


    Roland could see it in the slight hesitation in her movements, the way her breathing was getting heavier, her reactions just a fraction slower. Whatever she was using, it was costing her dearly.


    And they were still outnumbered.


    Roland pushed his way through the battlefield, his shield absorbing the force of another brutal strike as he maneuvered toward Celeste. He caught her gaze for only a second, but that was all they needed.


    She was spent.


    She didn¡¯t say it, but he could see it¡ªthe slight tremor in her stance, the shallow rise and fall of her chest. The energy from her daggers was costing her too much, and if she kept pushing herself, she wouldn¡¯t last.


    Roland nodded once, a silent understanding passing between them.


    She gave the barest hint of a smirk, one that barely hid her relief, before stepping back to regroup. Roland moved forward, taking her place at the front. He raised his shield, bracing against the next attack, using the momentum of his opponent¡¯s lunge to push them back.


    Celeste retreated just enough to catch her breath, leaning against a broken pillar as she wiped sweat from her brow. The battle around them had only grown worse. More than a few of the creatures had been caught in the crossfire of Nallensen and Tarrus¡¯ fight, their massive forms collapsing, twisted apart by forces beyond comprehension. But it hadn¡¯t been enough to slow the tide.


    As Roland parried another attack, Celeste called out, her voice strained but still sharp. ¡°Spot any weaknesses? Anything like the others?¡±


    Roland gritted his teeth, focusing his Soul Gaze as he dodged another strike. He looked through the creatures, searching for the telltale flicker of a bound soul, for the unnatural glow of an amulet tethering them in place.


    But there was nothing.


    ¡°No souls,¡± he called back. ¡°And I don¡¯t see any amulets either.¡±


    Celeste let out a long breath, wiping her daggers clean. ¡°Yeah,¡± she muttered. ¡°Came to the same conclusion.¡±


    She pushed herself upright, eyes scanning the battlefield, her gaze narrowing as she looked toward Tarrus.


    ¡°They¡¯re not like the others,¡± she said grimly. ¡°They¡¯re not bound by the artifact or trapped souls.¡± She exhaled, shaking her head. ¡°He¡¯s controlling them directly.¡±


    Roland had noticed it for a while now¡ªthe barrier was shrinking. Slowly, deliberately, the shimmering walls of energy closed in, tightening the battlefield, cutting off their ability to maneuver.


    At first, he had thought it was just a trick of the eye, but now, as the space grew tighter, he realised the truth.


    Tarrus was herding them.


    Roland¡¯s muscles burned with exertion. His shield arm felt like lead, his breaths came shorter, and every strike he parried rattled his bones. His divine payments had helped, but he was still too slow, too drained to keep this up much longer.


    He needed an edge.


    Reaching into his pouch, he yanked out one of his reflex enhancement potions and drained it in a single motion.


    The effect was instantaneous.


    The world sharpened. His pulse steadied. The sluggishness in his limbs vanished, replaced by a fine-tuned precision, a clarity of movement that flowed effortlessly through his body.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Celeste appeared beside him, pressing another vial into his hand. ¡°Drink it. Now.¡±


    She didn¡¯t wait for a response. She pulled out another potion of her own, uncorking it with her teeth before tossing it back in a single, practiced motion.


    Roland hesitated for a fraction of a second, glancing at the dark liquid inside. ¡°What¡ª¡±


    ¡°Just do it.¡± Her voice was urgent, and there was something else¡ªsomething he didn¡¯t have time to process.


    A flicker of guilt in her eyes.


    She swallowed hard. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    With a gulp, he finished the potion, the strange, sweet taste lingering on his tongue. He trusted her, but was worried about why she would say sorry.


    A jolt of pure energy ripped through him, setting every nerve alight. His vision flashed, his heartbeat pounded against his ribs, and suddenly¡ªeverything was faster.


    His thoughts couldn¡¯t keep up with his movements. He dodged before he realised an attack was coming. His sword lashed out, parrying, slashing, countering in ways that should have taken conscious effort. It was like his instincts had taken over, like he had been dropped into a fight he had already practiced a thousand times.


    He didn¡¯t know what was in the second potion, but it assumed it must come with a cost. Nothing is for free.


    Celeste moved beside him, just as unnaturally fast, her daggers weaving through the air like twin streaks of violet light. She lunged at one of the larger beasts, her daggers slicing deep into its side. Flesh unravelled instantly, the same unnatural effect from before¡ªbut faster, more devastating.


    Roland followed her lead, surging forward as the creature lashed out. He saw its movement before it happened, his reactions far beyond what should be possible. He ducked under a massive claw, twisting around to deliver a brutal strike to its exposed flank.


    The blade cut deep, but the beast didn¡¯t stumble.


    Instead, it turned too quickly, its movements almost too perfect, like a thing made entirely for war.


    It lunged, its fanged maw snapping toward him¡ª


    Celeste was there first.


    She dashed past, carving a glowing arc with her daggers, severing the beast¡¯s tendons in an instant. The massive form buckled, its momentum thrown off as it tumbled forward.


    Roland didn¡¯t waste the opening.


    He raised his sword high, channelling everything he had into a single downward strike, and drove the blade clean through the creature¡¯s skull.


    The impact shook the ground.


    The beast shuddered, its body writhing violently¡ªbefore finally going still.


    Roland exhaled sharply, heart still hammering too fast, his limbs thrumming with unnatural power.


    Beside him, Celeste stood motionless, her breath shallow, her fingers twitching as if resisting the urge to keep moving.


    The battlefield twisted before their eyes.


    Roland was still catching his breath, his body twitching involuntarily, when the first abomination began to move again. Then another. And another.


    What should have been corpses¡ªthings they had cut down with certainty¡ªwere now pulling themselves back together.


    Limbs that had been severed reattached themselves with sickening ease, flesh knitting together in ways that no mortal body should be able to heal. Some of the creatures didn¡¯t even reform the same way, their bodies reshaping into something even crueller, even stranger.


    Roland clenched his fists, watching in horror as something inhuman and wrong crawled out of the mass of flesh, its proportions so warped it barely resembled what it had been before.


    Then, from above¡ªa body slammed into the ground with brutal force.


    Nallensen.


    He hit the earth hard, rolling to a stop, his once-pristine coat torn and bloodstained.


    Celeste rushed forward, already reaching for a light healing prayer, her voice trembling with exhaustion. While her healing offered some relief, it only partially closed the most serious wounds.


    She was on empty.


    Nallensen coughed, struggling to push himself up, his divine energy flickering like a dying ember.


    Above them, Tarrus laughed.


    The sound filled the air, thick and suffocating, the sheer presence of it wrong in ways Roland couldn¡¯t explain. It slithered into his ears, curled around his bones, made every instinct scream to run.


    The Chaosborn hovered above the battlefield, his smoky form shifting wildly, his amusement radiating through the very air.


    ¡°Ahhh, what a spectacle this has been,¡± Tarrus purred, his voice filled with mock delight. ¡°Truly, truly. I am entertained.¡±


    His ever-changing form snapped downward, his focus settling fully on Nallensen, his voice dipping into something cruel.


    ¡°But I think we both know¡­¡± He drifted lower, the air buzzing with barely restrained chaos. ¡°It¡¯s time to end this.¡±


    His form sharpened, taking on something almost solid, his presence pressing down like an unseen storm.


    ¡°You were so close, Nallensen,¡± he said, voice dripping with mock pity. ¡°But it seems you¡¯ve run out of tricks. It''s time you accept your place and work for me¡±


    To Roland¡¯s surprise, it wasn¡¯t Tarrus who laughed next¡ªit was Nallensen.


    A ragged, pained laugh that clearly hurt his ribs, but he laughed anyway.


    Tarrus tilted his head, his smoky form shifting as if considering something deeply amusing. ¡°Oh? Have I missed the joke?¡±


    Nallensen grinned, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. ¡°You¡¯re out of time.¡±


    Roland blinked, confused, until his eyes caught something¡ªthe barrier.


    It was smaller than before, the edges of it shrinking inward, its glow fading.


    Not by Tarrus¡¯ will.


    Something was draining it.


    Roland spun, scanning the battlefield, and then¡ªhe saw him.


    Todd.


    He was moving through the battlefield, hands outstretched, pulling something unseen from the air, strands of writhing, shifting energy twisting around his fingers before vanishing.


    Roland hadn¡¯t noticed at first, too caught up in the fight, but now that he was watching closely, he could see it¡ªthe way the air around Todd rippled, the way the unnatural feel of Tarrus¡¯ presence was getting weaker.


    Celeste noticed too. And when she did, she grinned.


    She let out a laugh of her own, breathless but filled with triumph.


    ¡°Of course,¡± she murmured, shaking her head. ¡°How could I forget? Chaosborn need chaos from their homeworld to manifest in other realms.¡±


    She turned to Nallensen. ¡°You knew this was a possibility.¡±


    Nallensen nodded, wincing as he pushed himself up slightly. ¡°I did. And that¡¯s why I developed a spell to filter Chaos energy from the air.¡± His grin turned sharp, defiant. ¡°A shame I never got to test it properly¡­ but it looks like Todd¡¯s doing just fine.¡±


    Tarrus¡¯ form shuddered, flickering for the first time, the confident ease in his presence cracking slightly.


    He floated backward, his ever-shifting silhouette twisting into something less controlled, less deliberate.


    Roland saw it then¡ªthe first hint of uncertainty in the Chaosborn¡¯s endless amusement.


    Tarrus had spent the entire battle toying with them.


    And now, for the first time¡­


    He was the one being played.


    Tarrus chuckled, the sound lighter now, but still dripping with amusement.


    ¡°Well played.¡± His smoky form shifted, coiling in on itself as the barrier shrunk further separating him from Nallensen, Roland, Celeste, and Todd. The shifting wall of energy sealed off the battlefield, leaving Tarrus on the other side¡ªbut it had stopped shrinking once it reached the fortress walls.


    Tarrus let out a mock sigh, shaking his head. ¡°You think you¡¯ve won something here?¡± His voice was smooth, casual, as if this was all just a minor inconvenience. ¡°I still control the Veil Gate. And it won¡¯t take long to gather more Chaos essence.¡±


    Then, he laughed, a hearty, genuine sound, one that curled around the battlefield like a promise.


    ¡°Oh, and do remember, dear Nallensen¡­¡± The shifting Chaosborn tilted his head, his smoky form flickering like a dying flame.


    ¡°Your precious Worldborn love is still in the fortress.¡±


    Nallensen went rigid, his already battered frame tensing further.


    Tarrus¡¯ form began to retreat, melting into the fortress shadows as his laughter echoed through the air, thick with delight.


    ¡°You¡¯ll be back,¡± he purred. ¡°And you better have a solution ready.¡±


    And with that, he was gone.