The pallid glow of dawn had yet to grace the jagged horizon when Cael found himself ensnared in a labyrinth of whispered secrets and veiled threats. Erebus awoke sluggishly beneath a sky heavy with portent, its streets weaving tales of sorrow and silent rebellion.
The wounded man, now gone beyond mortal reach, had left behind more than a fading breath—his whispered "Beware" echoed like a dirge within Cael's soul. The mark upon the man's palm, an ancient rune bound in blood and shadow, had stirred something restless within the city's heart.
In the days that followed, Cael moved like a specter through the alleys and hovels, observing eyes that flickered with suspicion and fear. The corrupt guild tightened its grasp, tendrils of power spreading like rot through the veins of the city.
Each night, beneath the ever-watchful Horned Star, Cael's mark burned faint beneath his garments—a secret both shield and shackle. The inverted star's twin, Polaris, whispered of guidance and resilience, yet its twin cursed hunger clawed relentlessly at his spirit.
Amidst the squalor, whispers of the Veil began to reach his ears—a secret kept by the oldest and most wary; a passage, a test, or perhaps a veil between worlds.
The city itself seemed to pulse with hidden life, a web spun by those who wielded death as an art. And in the weaving threads of fate, Cael sensed that his steps were no longer his own, but those of a pawn destined to unravel the tapestry of lies.
Upon returning to his meager lodgings, Cael found a folded parchment, sealed with a sigil long thought extinct.