Kevin's eyes darted toward the hooded figure in the dim light of The Broken Lantern. A slender hand motioned him closer, voice barely above a whisper.
"You've received the letter," the figure said, voice gravelly but calm. "Few know what it truly means."
Kevin nodded cautiously, stepping into the shadowed corner. The figure lowered the hood, revealing sharp, pale features — eyes that gleamed like polished obsidian in the low light.
"I am Elyra," she said. "A guardian of the Veil."
Kevin's breath caught. The Veil — a legendary force said to separate the mortal world from the realm of shadow. It was no myth.
"Why me?" he asked, voice cracking.
Elyra's gaze hardened. "Because you carry the Embermark — the ancient sigil reborn in your bloodline. Only those marked can face what lies beneath Emberfall."
A chill ran down Kevin's spine. He had felt the mark since childhood — a faint burning sensation beneath his skin, like embers glowing beneath ash.
"But the Veil is weakening," Elyra continued. "Darkness stirs, and soon, it will seep through the cracks. You must decide — will you stand against it, or will Emberfall fall into shadow?"
Before Kevin could answer, a sudden crash echoed from the inn's entrance. The heavy door splintered inward as cloaked figures flooded the room, eyes blazing with unnatural fire.
Elyra's voice sharpened. "They've found us. The hunt has begun."
Kevin's hand instinctively reached beneath his cloak, gripping the hilt of a dagger he didn't know he had.
The night was no longer quiet. The veil was tearing — and so was his fate.