The rain didn't fall — it attacked.
Each droplet slammed against Kaelen's skin like shards of cold glass. His cloak, once the proud black of the Onyx Legion, now hung in tatters, soaked and shredded, clinging to his shoulders like regret. The mud beneath his boots clung to him with every step, trying to pull him under — as if the very earth wanted to swallow him whole.
Lightning split the sky above, and for a moment, the skeletal trees of Velmire Forest stood stark and sharp against the bruised heavens. Tall, gnarled, weeping — the trees looked like twisted statues mourning something long forgotten. Kaelen didn't flinch at the thunder. He'd heard worse. Screams. Explosions. The crack of bone under metal.
But the forest?
The forest whispered.
Low and humming, like voices trapped beneath the bark. It spoke in no language he knew, but he felt it — a deep vibration in his bones, something ancient stirring at the edge of his mind. This was no ordinary woodland. This was the Gravewood, the border of the lost kingdom of Arosia — and the place where people went to vanish.
He wasn't looking to be found.
Kaelen pressed a hand against his side, where the gash beneath his armor still pulsed heat. Blood oozed between his fingers. Not deep enough to kill, but enough to slow him. He staggered against a bent tree trunk and let his weight sink into it, steam rising from his skin as his cursed fire tried — weakly — to heal him.
He exhaled smoke. Black. As always.
Once, the flame had been his pride. Now, it was his prison.
He didn't know how far he'd walked. Time didn't seem to exist in this place. The storm covered the sun, and the deeper he went, the thicker the mist became, curling around his legs like curious fingers.
Then he saw it.
A clearing — unnaturally round, lit by the faint silver of a dying lantern tree. Its trunk glowed with runes older than the empire. The grass here didn't sway. The mist didn't move.
And standing at the center of it… was a woman.
Draped in pale robes, untouched by mud or rain. A long white veil fell from her head, covering her face entirely, but not hiding the calm way she stood — perfectly still, as if ahe'd been waiting there forever.
Kaelen's instincts snapped into place. His hand went to the hilt of Emberfang.
The stranger raised one hand, not in threat, but in greeting — or warning.
"You should not be here, Shadowflame."
The voice was low. Musical, almost. It threaded through the air like silk and curled behind Kaelen's ribs.
No one had called him that in years.
He took a cautious step forward, sword dragging through the wet grass behind him. "You know me."
"I do."
"Who are you?"
The woman tilted her head slightly, veil fluttering in the breeze that hadn't existed a moment ago. "A question you should ask yourself, Alaric."
Kaelen froze.
That name.
That cursed name — the one he'd buried the day he turned his back on the capital, the day the crown betrayed him. The name he no longer used. No one should know it.
He didn't answer. Just gripped Emberfang tighter and took another step into the clearing. Rain hissed against his skin where the flame coiled. The woman didn't move.
"I'm not here for riddles," Kaelen muttered.
"And yet, you've entered the forest of riddles." The woman's tone was neither amused nor cold. Simply… matter-of-fact.
Kaelen's vision blurred for a second — from blood loss or magic, he wasn't sure. He shook his head and tried to focus. "You some kind of spirit?"
"No."
"God?"
"Hardly."
"Then why the veil?"
A pause. Then, softly, "So you won't remember me too soon."
Kaelen's breath caught, but before he could speak, the wind shifted.
Something in the air changed.
The forest stopped breathing.
The leaves no longer rustled. The mist thickened, suffocating. Even the lantern tree dimmed. And in that silence… came a sound.
Scraping. Guttural. Wrong.
From the far side of the clearing, shadows moved — slithering, crawling on limbs too many and too thin. They stepped between trees like oil spilling into water.
Veilspawn.
Kaelen didn't hesitate. He stepped beside the veiled woman, Emberfang igniting in a burst of black flame that licked up his arm, casting demonic light onto his face.
"You followed me," he growled at the shadows. "Of course you did."
The veiled woman did not draw a weapon. She simply said, "You brought them here. And now you must choose."
Kaelen shot him a look. "Choose what?"
But the woman was already walking forward — into the mist — toward the creatures.
And behind them, the trees whispered louder.
Calling Kaelen by name.
Kaelen didn't know why he followed.
He should've run. Should've turned his flame on the Veilspawn and burned them to ash like he'd done a hundred times before. But something about the woman's voice… herr calm… the strange, ancient weight in the way she walked…
It pulled at Kaelen like gravity.
The creatures hissed as she approached. Black, brittle things made of smoke and hunger, with jaws that didn't belong to any living world. They didn't charge. Not yet. They waited.
For what?
The veiled woman raised a single hand, fingers long and pale, and as she did, the mist around them shimmered — shifted — like the very air was warping.
The shadows recoiled.
Kaelen stopped behind her, blade lit, heart thundering in his ears. "What the hell are you?"
The woman didn't answer. Instead, she turned her head slightly, just enough for her voice to carry through the veil. "Do you know what the Veilspawn are drawn to, Shadowflame?"
"My blood," Kaelen snapped. "My fire."
"Wrong."
Kaelen stiffened.
"They're drawn to your guilt."
The words struck harder than they should've. Something inside him twisted. He clenched his jaw, fingers tightening around Emberfang.
"I didn't come here to be lectured by a ghost."
"I told you — I'm not a ghost." She stepped forward again, calm as moonlight, until she stood just at the edge of the clearing. The Veilspawn seethed, pacing, clawing at the edges of an invisible line, but not crossing it.
"They sense everything you've buried. The soldiers you couldn't save. The people you burned. The boy you used to be." A pause. "Alaric."
"That name is dead," Kaelen growled, voice a low warning.
"And yet, you bleed like him."
He turned sharply, sword raised, flame flickering dangerously near the woman's shoulder. "Say it again—"
The woman moved so fast, Kaelen barely saw it.
A hand to his wrist. No pain. No force.
Just… stillness.
The flame on his sword died instantly.
Kaelen blinked, breath caught.
The veiled woman stood inches away now — veil fluttering, her scent like old parchment and petrichor. Ancient. Clean. Intoxicating.
She leaned in, voice barely above a whisper.
"I am not your enemy…"
Kaelen's heart thudded hard.
"…but I am the reason you're hunted."
The words echoed in the air like a curse. And for the first time in years, Kaelen felt… cold.
"What are you talking about?" he asked hoarsely.
The veil brushed against Kaelen's cheek as the woman tilted her head again. "Your flames were born because of me."
"What?"
"You carry a piece of my magic."
Kaelen stepped back, stumbling slightly. "That's impossible. My fire is cursed — a punishment. The elders said—"
"The elders lied."
The wind howled suddenly, cutting through the clearing like a scream. Behind them, the Veilspawn shrieked — no longer waiting. The ground cracked with their hunger.
But Kaelen wasn't looking at them anymore.
He was looking at her. This veiled stranger. This woman who had just shattered everything he believed about himself in five sentences.
He gritted his teeth. "Why me?"
The woman reached up — slowly — and removed the veil.
The world stopped.
And there she was.
Lyra Daevantris .
Not a spirit. Not a god.
A woman — beautiful, dangerous, impossible. Skin pale like moonlit marble. Eyes a deep obsidian laced with ancient gold, like he'd seen the beginning and end of time. There was sorrow in them. But also knowing.
And when she spoke again, her voice was nothing like before. It was velvet and heat.
"Because I chose you."
Kaelen took a step back, almost breathless — not from fear, but from something far more dangerous.
Something that bloomed in his chest like fire.
Attraction.
Anger.
Curiosity.
And just beneath it all… a terrifying sense of recognition.
The first Veilspawn lunged — a blur of jagged limbs and teeth that glistened with rot.
Kaelen barely raised Emberfang in time. The blade lit with shadowflame, slicing through the creature mid-air. Black blood splattered across the clearing as it screeched, dissolving into smoke. But more followed — dozens — crawling from the woods, forming a dark tide around them.
"Behind!" Lyra called, her voice sharp and sure.
Kaelen turned on instinct. Two creatures were already in the air, claws poised to rip through him. He dropped low, spun, and swept Emberfang through them both. The flames curved like a serpent, splitting the darkness.
But there were too many.
Kaelen braced himself, backing into Lyra 's side. "Got any more cryptic riddles or are we actually fighting now?"
Lyra didn't respond.
She sang.
It wasn't in any tongue Kaelen recognized — it was older, raw, vibrating through the bones of the earth. As the last word left her lips, the air around him shimmered, split, and light poured through the cracks in reality.
A massive sigil flared beneath their feet — lines of silver fire dancing in a spiral pattern that defied logic. The Veilspawn shrieked as it pulsed, stumbling back.
Kaelen turned to him. "What are you?"
Lyra didn't look at him.
She was glowing.
Not just her eyes, now fully golden — but her entire being. Light poured from her hands, casting sharp angles across her sharp jaw and high cheekbones. The wind wrapped around her like it recognized her — like it belonged to her.
"I am a Keeper of the Veil," she said, voice like thunder beneath still water. "I was born to protect the boundary between the realms. And I broke the law the moment I gave you my flame."
Kaelen froze.
"You… gave it to me?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Lyra finally looked at him — really looked at him. "Because I saw what you would become. What you had to become."
Kaelen swallowed, heart pounding. "And now?"
Lyra 's gaze softened, and for a moment, the battle, the storm, even the growling shadows faded. It was just them — soaked, blood-stained, breathless — standing on the edge of something ancient.
"I don't regret it," Lyra whispered. "Even if it costs me everything."
A shriek shattered the moment.
A massive Veilspawn—twice the size of the others, its body stitched from dozens of fallen beasts—charged straight toward the circle. The sigil around them flickered.
Kaelen didn't hesitate.
He launched forward, black flames roaring from his blade. The beast met him mid-air, jaws snapping. They collided like meteors. Kaelen was fast, deadly — a blur of slashes, dodges, and raw fury.
The creature reared back, and Lyra stepped beside him, one hand raised. A torrent of silver energy lashed forward, binding the monster's limbs in glowing chains. "Now!"
Kaelen jumped, sword high, and brought it down with a roar.
The beast exploded in a flash of black and gold.
Silence followed.
Smoke curled around their feet. The rest of the Veilspawn hissed — retreating into the woods like shadows fleeing the dawn. The sigil faded, and rain fell again, steady and cold.
Kaelen stood in the quiet, chest heaving, blood soaking his arm.
Lyra approached slowly. "You're hurt."
"I've had worse."
Lyra reached out anyway. Her hand brushed Kaelen's shoulder, warm despite the storm. The contact sent a jolt through Kaelen — something electric, unexplainable.
Her voice was quiet. "You shouldn't be alone tonight."
Kaelen turned to her, unreadable. "I've been alone for a long time."
Lyra met his eyes. "That's about to change."
✦ END OF CHAPTER 1 ✦