Morning came shrouded in gray, with mist curling through the trees like fingers searching for something lost. Elyra hadn't slept. After the voice at the door vanished, she and Kael sat in silence, the only sound between them the soft crackle of the dying fire.
She didn't ask him what the ring had done — not yet. Instead, she watched him from the corner of her eye, noting the way his shoulders never fully relaxed, even as he sipped the tea she made from dreamroot and fireleaf.
He was a soldier. That much was obvious. But there was something else beneath the surface — a wariness that didn't come from battle alone. A haunted stillness, like he'd seen the world crack and was waiting for it to do so again.
"Who sent them?" she asked finally, breaking the silence.
Kael set his cup down carefully. "The Hollow Guard."
She blinked. "Those are a myth."
"They were. Until the Queen called them back."
His words hung heavy in the air. Outside, birds dared a few tentative songs, but even those felt muted under the weight of what he'd said.
Elyra crossed her arms. "So you're telling me the stories are true? That the Queen of Serith lives — and that she has shadow creatures crawling from the Veil to hunt you?"
"No," Kael said. "They're not stories. They're warnings."
Elyra paced toward the window. The forest loomed in the distance, a blur of shifting mist and ancient trees. Her whole life, it had been the edge of the world — the line not to cross. Even those who lived closest to it only dared venture a few paces in for firewood or herbs.
Now it felt closer. Hungrier.
She turned back to him. "You said I was marked. What does that mean?"
Kael hesitated, then reached into the inner pocket of his cloak and pulled out a small cloth-wrapped object. He unfolded it carefully, revealing a disc of obsidian etched with a spiral of runes. One glowed faintly — a soft, icy blue.
"This is a binding stone," he said. "Made by the old orders before they fell. It reacts to those who carry the Queen's thread."
Elyra frowned. "Thread?"
"Magic," he said, then corrected himself. "But not like the charm around your neck. This… this is older. Wilder. It doesn't just exist — it clings. It waits."
She moved closer, eyes fixed on the stone. As she reached out, the blue rune flared brighter.
Kael met her gaze. "You were touched by her magic when you were a child. Maybe before. That's why she calls to you. That's why your dreams lead you to her."
Elyra's stomach twisted. "And if I don't answer?"
He closed the cloth around the stone. "She'll come to you."
The room fell silent again. This time, it was Elyra who broke it with a laugh — sharp and bitter. "So my mother was right. She used to tell me the Queen slept beneath the roots of the Veil, dreaming of fire and thrones."
Kael gave a faint smile. "She was more right than she knew."
They shared a look — something unspoken passing between them. A flicker of recognition, maybe. Or understanding. Neither of them truly belonged to the world outside the forest.
A knock came again — not at the door this time, but at the back wall.
Both of them stood instantly, weapons drawn.
The knock repeated. Slow. Deliberate.
Elyra moved to the wall and pressed her ear against it. For a long moment, nothing. Then—
Elyra.
She staggered back, breath caught in her throat.
It was her mother's voice.
Kael reached for her, but she held up a hand. Her heart thundered as she stepped toward the wall again. "Say it again," she whispered.
But nothing came.
Just wind. Just silence.
Kael pulled her away gently. "It's a trick."
"It was her voice."
"It's what the Queen does. She pulls what you love into the dark and offers it back — but it's never really them."
Elyra stared at the wall as if it might speak again. Her hands trembled.
"Why me?" she asked quietly.
Kael answered with something close to sorrow. "Because you're the one who can end it."
End it.
Two simple words — and yet, they shifted the air around her, made the fire dim and the forest seem to hold its breath.
She turned to face him fully. "Then take me to the Veil."
Kael froze. "No. You don't understand what you're asking."
"I do," she said. "The Queen is calling. If she wants me… then I want to know why."
He shook his head. "It's not that simple. The Veil isn't just trees and magic — it's a place between. It shows you truths meant to be forgotten. It feeds on who you were to reveal who you might become."
"Then I'll take the risk."
Kael looked at her, his jaw tight. Finally, he gave a single nod. "Then we leave at dusk.
Outside, the forest stirred.
And somewhere deep within the Veil, the Queen of Serith opened her eyes.
Continuation
(Threads of the Past)
The door swung on its hinges, creaking in the storm's aftermath. Elyra stood frozen, her blade tight in her hand, heart hammering in her chest. The forest beyond was eerily still, the mist curling at the ground like living fingers.
Kael pushed himself up from the table, staggering. His body protested with every movement, but he forced himself upright.
"They found me faster than I thought," he muttered, grimacing.
Elyra turned toward him. "What were they? Not men."
"No." Kael's voice was grave. "Not anymore. They're shades — fragments of souls twisted by the Queen's magic. They can smell Serith blood. Mine… and now yours, too."
"Mine?" Elyra echoed, disbelief flashing through her. "I'm no lost heir of Serith."
Kael shook his head. "It's not just about bloodlines. It's about connection. You've been marked by the Veil's magic. That's enough."
Elyra's mind raced. The dreams. The whispers. The way her mother had vanished without a trace, without a scream.
She looked down at her own hands — steady, but tingling with an energy she didn't understand.
"What do they want?" she asked, voice quieter.
"To bring us to her," Kael said simply. "Alive or dead."
A shudder ran down Elyra's spine. "Then we need to move. Before they come back with more."
Kael nodded, but his legs buckled slightly. Elyra caught him before he hit the floor.
"You're not ready for a fight," she said.
"I don't have a choice."
Elyra tightened her grip on him. "We do. But we'll need help."
She thought of the village — but quickly discarded the idea. The people of Drenn wouldn't understand. They feared the Veil. They feared magic. They would turn her over to the guards the second they knew the truth.
There was only one person she could trust.
An old friend who lived on the outskirts, where the river split into three branches — Maeve, the weaver. She wasn't just a spinner of cloth, but of charms and secrets too. If anyone could hide them from the eyes of cursed shades, it was Maeve.
"We're going to the river," Elyra decided, pulling Kael's good arm over her shoulder.
He didn't argue. He didn't have the strength to.
Before leaving, she grabbed her mother's moonstone pendant from around her neck and tucked it into Kael's pocket, muttering a protection spell she barely remembered learning. She also slipped the ring of Serith into a cloth pouch, wrapping it tightly. Just touching it sent a chill through her bones.
Outside, the mist swallowed them almost immediately.
The path to the river was a narrow, winding trail, lined by ancient oaks whose branches twisted like gnarled hands. Elyra had walked it a hundred times as a child, but tonight, it felt different — heavier. Like every step deeper into the mist was pulling them farther from the world they knew.
"Tell me about the Queen," Elyra said, needing to break the silence.
Kael's voice was low, almost lost to the night. "Her name was Lysira of Serith. Once, she was beloved. Wise beyond her years. She dreamed of uniting all kingdoms under a banner of peace."
"That doesn't sound so terrible."
He gave a bitter laugh. "Peace was not enough for the council of kings. They feared her magic — magic older than their gods. When she refused to yield her power, they conspired against her. Betrayed her."
Elyra listened, the story piecing itself together like a tapestry she hadn't known she'd been weaving her whole life.
"They attacked Serith's capital in the dead of winter," Kael continued. "But Lysira was no ordinary queen. Rather than die at their hands, she bound her spirit to the Veil. She wove herself into the forest's heart. And she waits... for the blood that will set her free."
Lightning flickered far off, illuminating the twisted silhouettes of trees.
Elyra swallowed. "And you're that blood."
Kael nodded weakly. "And now… maybe you, too."
They reached the riverbank, the mist parting just enough to reveal the crooked stone cottage perched above the rushing water. A single lantern flickered in the window.
Maeve was awake.
Elyra quickened her steps, half-dragging Kael across the slippery stones. She raised her hand to knock
But the door opened before she touched it.
A woman stood in the doorway, her silver hair braided down her back, her eyes sharp as hawk's. Maeve. She looked them over once, then stepped aside.
"Come in," Maeve said briskly. "The Veil's already singing your names."