The night bled into dawn with no sunrise to greet it. Here, beneath the canopy of the Veilwood, time moved strangely. The veins in the ground pulsed like a heartbeat, steady and indifferent, and the air carried the taste of smoke though no fire burned.
Kael sat apart from the camp, staring at his hands. The black veins beneath his skin had faded to a faint shadow, but he could still feel them writhing, restless, as though they belonged to something else. The staff across his lap pulsed faintly, hungry, whispering its own silent cadence.
Liora stood nearby, watching him with the wariness of one who had seen too much. She hadn't spoken since the battle, and the silence between them felt heavier than any chain.
Finally, she broke it.
"You're changing."
Kael flinched at her tone—not cruel, not accusing, but distant, as if she were speaking of someone already lost.
"I'm fighting it," he muttered. "Every moment. I'm still me."
Her eyes narrowed. "For now."
He clenched his fists. "You think I wanted this? You think I asked the Veil to crawl into me?"
"I think it doesn't matter what you wanted," she said evenly. "The moment you let it in, you became its vessel. And vessels break."
The words cut deeper than any blade, because part of him knew she was right. And yet… part of him whispered otherwise.
Not vessel. Not prey. Heir.
Kael shut his eyes, grinding his teeth until the whispers dimmed.
When he opened them again, Liora was gone. He twisted, alarmed, only to find her a few paces away, crouching at the edge of a withered root. She pressed her palm against it, eyes closed, lips moving in quiet words.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"Listening," she said without opening her eyes.
"To what?"
"The Tower's call."
Kael froze. "The Tower of Ash?"
Her eyes opened, glinting with something he couldn't name—fear, reverence, sorrow. "It's near. Closer than I thought."
The ground trembled beneath them, subtle but real, as though the forest itself had acknowledged her words. The veins pulsed brighter, shifting their glow from deep crimson to a faint, smoky gray.
Kael shivered. "And that's… good?"
Liora's mouth tightened. "Good and terrible often come as one. The Tower never sleeps. It will know we are coming."
Before Kael could reply, the System's voice flared in his mind, sharper than usual, almost frantic:
> [Alert: Unstable Resonance Detected. Proximity to Source of Corruption: 12.3 kilometers. Warning—Entity Recognition Protocols Engaged.]
Kael's breath caught. "It knows."
Liora's gaze darkened. "Then we move. Now."
---
They walked for hours through the shifting labyrinth of roots and stone. The forest grew denser, the air thicker, until Kael felt as though the world itself pressed down on his lungs. Whispers followed him, louder now, crawling into every shadow.
At times he thought he saw faces in the bark—twisted reflections of himself, eyes glowing faintly, mouths opening in silent screams. Each time he blinked, they vanished, leaving only the pulse of the roots.
Liora moved with grim certainty, her blade always ready, her steps deliberate. Yet Kael noticed her hand lingered near her chest more than once, as though clutching a scar he could not see.
Finally, he spoke. "What is it? The Tower. Why does it matter to you?"
She hesitated, and for a moment Kael thought she would refuse. Then she sighed, as if tired of carrying the weight alone.
"The Tower of Ash," she said quietly, "was not always ruin. It was a crucible. A forge. Those born within its walls were tested, shaped, burned until only strength remained. I was one of them."
Kael frowned. "You said that before. But why? What did it want from you?"
Her eyes hardened. "To make me into a weapon."
The air thickened at her words. Even the forest seemed to hush.
"Did it succeed?" Kael asked.
Her silence was answer enough.
---
By the time they stopped, the forest had shifted again. The veins here glowed a faint gray, their light casting long, skeletal shadows. In the distance, Kael thought he saw the outline of something vast—rising like broken fingers clawing toward the sky.
The Tower.
Even from afar, it radiated weight. His chest tightened, his veins pulsed faster, and the whispers surged in exultation.
Yes. Return. Ascend. Claim your birthright.
He staggered, clutching his head.
"Kael!" Liora's voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding. She gripped his arm, steadying him. "Focus. It's trying to pull you in."
"I… I can't—"
"You can," she snapped. Her eyes burned with fierce resolve. "Listen to me, not to it. You are not chains. You are not the Veil. You are Kael Ardyn. Hold to that, or you'll be lost before we take a single step inside."
Her words anchored him—barely. He forced himself to breathe, the whispers still gnawing at the edges of his mind, promising power, promising release.
The Tower loomed larger with every breath.
---
That night, as they camped within sight of its silhouette, Kael could not sleep. He sat awake, staring at the faint outline of jagged spires in the distance.
The whispers didn't relent. They crawled beneath his skin, seeping into his dreams, weaving visions of chains snapping, of fire consuming the Tower until only ashes remained.
And within those ashes, he stood—crowned in flame, wrapped in chains that obeyed his will.
He woke with a strangled gasp, sweat freezing against his skin. Across the fire, Liora sat awake, her blade across her knees, eyes locked on the Tower.
"You saw it too," Kael whispered.
Her eyes flicked to him, then back to the horizon. "The Tower calls to all who approach. It promises. It tempts. And it devours."
Kael swallowed. "Then why go back?"
She was silent for a long time. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely a whisper.
"Because I left something behind. And some chains must be broken, no matter the cost."
Kael didn't press further. But in that moment, he understood something he hadn't before: Liora wasn't just his guide. She was bound to this place as tightly as he was, perhaps even tighter.
And when they entered the Tower, neither of them would leave unchanged.
---
The dawn never came. The sky above the Veilwood remained shrouded, timeless. But when the veins shifted from gray to a deep, smoldering red, Liora rose.
"It's time," she said.
Kael followed her gaze. The Tower of Ash loomed closer now, its broken spires jagged against the dim horizon. The air itself trembled, heavy with unseen weight.
Chains rattled faintly in Kael's mind. The whispers rose to a fever pitch, a chorus of promises and hunger.
And though fear coiled in his gut, another feeling stirred with it.
Desire.
The Tower called. And Kael was no longer certain he had the strength to resist.
---