The next dawn came without sound.
Golden mist covered the Realm of Dawn, stretching endlessly around the small clearing where Elara stood barefoot in the shimmering grass. Lyssara circled her slowly, whispering words that twisted in the air like glowing runes.
"Breathe," Lyssara said softly. "Let the Veil listen to your heartbeat."
Elara closed her eyes, hands trembling. The mark on her wrist pulsed—faint silver light spreading across her veins like starlight through glass.
She could feel the energy humming beneath her skin, wild and vast, too big for her fragile body.
"I can't," she whispered. "It's too much."
"Control comes from trust," Lyssara said. "Trust the bond."
Elara opened her eyes, glancing at Darius standing nearby. He watched in silence, his eyes dark with concern. She felt his presence through the bond—warm, steady, protective.
She tried again.
The light surged, swirling around her fingers in perfect motion—until it suddenly shifted. The silver glow darkened, turning cold. Shadows bled into the light, crawling up her arms.
Lyssara's expression changed. "Elara—stop!"
"I'm trying!" Elara cried, but the power didn't listen.
It twisted inward, wrapping around her like smoke. Her vision blurred. The air turned heavy.
Then she heard it—
a whisper, faint at first, then growing clearer.
You're not ready.
Her breath caught. The voice was deep, familiar, almost comforting.
You reach for light, but you were born from shadow.
"Who's there?" she gasped.
Lyssara's voice echoed from far away, urgent. "Elara, break the link! Don't listen to it!"
But Elara couldn't move. The world around her dissolved, replaced by darkness stretching forever. In the center of that void, a figure stood—tall, cloaked in shifting mist, his face hidden.
You seek the truth, child of the Veil, the figure said. So listen well.
"Who are you?" Elara whispered, heart pounding.
The shadow tilted its head. You already know my voice.
The fog thinned—just enough for her to see the glint of silver eyes. The same eyes she'd seen once in a dream.
Her father's eyes.
Elara stumbled back. "No… no, you're dead."
Death is only a doorway, the whisper murmured. And the Veil never closes for those it owns.
Tears burned her eyes. "Why are you haunting me? Why now?"
Because the seal is breaking again, he said. And when it does, both realms will fall into me.
His voice deepened, echoing through her bones. You cannot stop it, Elara. You were made to finish what I began.
The mark on her wrist seared, burning through her skin like molten silver. She screamed—
—and Darius's voice cut through the darkness. "Elara! Wake up!"
Light burst around her. She collapsed into his arms, trembling, gasping for air. The black marks on her skin slowly faded, but the chill in her veins didn't.
Lyssara knelt beside her, her face pale. "What did you see?"
Elara looked up, eyes wide with fear. "Him."
"Who?"
She swallowed hard. "My father."
Darius stiffened. "That's impossible."
Elara met his gaze, tears glimmering. "No. He's alive—in the Veil. And he wants me to finish what he started."
Silence fell. Even the light around them seemed to dim, as though the Realm itself was listening.
Lyssara's voice trembled. "Then the prophecy has begun."
Elara turned toward her. "What prophecy?"
Lyssara looked at her sadly. "The one that says the Veilborn will either heal the worlds… or destroy them."
✨ End of Chapter 10 ✨