The first light of Arechi was thin, hesitant, as if even the sun questioned whether it should touch this land.
Midarion advanced in silence, Reikika close at his shoulder. The sky above them was a washed-out grey stretching endlessly over the road they had followed for more than a week.
Ahead, the Lawless Lands began to unfurl.
Hills tore the horizon like the ribs of some ancient beast, their slopes split open by wars no one remembered. Valleys still fumed from chemicals long abandoned, wisps of strange vapors clinging close to the ground.
Once, Arechi had been a kingdom of scholars, warriors, towers so high they made the clouds jealous. Now it was a wound that never healed, only deepened.
Reikika pulled her cloak tight and glanced at Elhyra. "Is this really where we're going?"
"Yes," she said. "Before we enter Arechi, you must meet someone."
"Who?" Midarion asked. Suspicion sharpened his voice more than he intended. He wasn't used to choosing his words.
"A veilmancer," Elhyra answered.
Reikika frowned. "A what?...Why do we need him?"
Elhyra paused. Her gaze softened "you will understand soon i promise."
Midarion's jaw tightened. "She saved our lives so let's trust her for now."
They walked until the mist thickened, swirling low along the ridge. Shapes moved inside the fog — not creatures, just the wind tugging shadows into strange forms. When they reached the crest, a silhouette waited.
A man stood within a ring of short wooden pillars carved with sigils. His robes were a patchwork of silvers and greys, stitched from scraps of other garments as though he wore a history rather than a coat. His face remained hidden behind layered veils, each embroidered with symbols Midarion didn't recognize.
He didn't look threatening. He didn't look comforting either. He looked like someone who existed slightly outside the world.
"These are the children," Elhyra said with authority. "Will you prepare them?"
"For what lies ahead," he murmured, "they must first loosen what lies behind."
The veilmancer stepped closer, moving with a soundless grace that startled both children. "You will not lose yourselves," he said. "Only the noise. Pain has a voice. It speaks too loudly in your spirits. I will quiet it. When you are stronger, the truth will call you back."
They did not understand what he meant but trusted Elhyra's judgment.
His tone wasn't gentle. It was factual — the way someone described weather or distance.
Midarion felt something inside him twitch.
He flinched. Reikika saw it and squeezed his sleeve.
"I don't trust him," Midarion muttered.
"You don't have to," Elhyra said. "we only need to trust that the path ahead demands this."
Before either could argue, the veilmancer traced a circle of salt and ash at their feet. The air inside it thickened, humming like a plucked string.
"Stand together," he instructed.
Midarion positioned himself slightly ahead of Reikika without thinking. She slipped her hand into his. The veilmancer extended two fingers and touched their foreheads.
The world lurched.
Sound didn't fade — it twisted, as though someone wrung it like wet cloth. The color around them thinned into a diluted grey. Midarion gasped as something inside his skull pulled tight, then unraveled all at once.
Reikika cried out, her knees buckling. Her breath came in fast, shallow bursts, and when Midarion tried to steady her, he realized his own hands were shaking violently.
A single memory flared bright before dimming:
—Reikika strapped to a table, sobbing.—Midarion held down by two white-masked guards.—A needle descending, silver and endless.
Pain, panic, helplessness — all of it surged and then was suddenly muffled, as though packed behind a wall of thick glass.
Reikika swayed. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks. "Something's… slipping," she whispered. "I can't hold it—"
"You're not meant to," the veilmancer said. "Let it dim."
The circle brightened. The mist outside it churned like stirred ink. Midarion felt pressure clamp around his chest, squeezing until his breath came out ragged. His vision blurred. He wanted to scream, or fight, or run. But Reikika's fingers were still wrapped around his, trembling. He refused to let go.
Finally, with a soft sound — like a door clicking shut far away — the pressure vanished.
Midarion collapsed to one knee, panting. Reikika leaned against him, dizzy. The salt circle flickered once, then faded into the wind.
Elhyra approached and knelt before them. "How do you feel?"
Midarion searched for an answer. His thoughts were strangely light, as if pieces of them had been wrapped in cotton.
"I… don't know," he admitted. "why are we here."
Reikika rubbed her eyes. "Elhyra...who is this person." he said pointing at the veilmancer. Her voice wavered, but she didn't sound afraid — only uncertain.
"That is normal," the veilmancer said. "Echoes remain. They will settle."
Elhyra placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "Don't worry he is on your side. This was necessary. You will eventually understand the purpose of this visit."
Elhyra asked him softly. "When will their memories come back?"
"When their spirits are strong enough to bear them," the man replied. "Memory is never truly lost. Only hidden from the parts of you that would shatter beneath it."
Elhyra placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "This was necessary. You will eventually understand the purpose of this visit."
Midarion stared at the ground. Something inside him ached, as if he had forgotten something important. The absence of it felt like a phantom limb.
Reikika pressed her forehead to his arm. "Midarion… I'm scared."
He swallowed hard. "Me too. But we're still here."
The veilmancer stepped back into the mist. "Your paths will darken before they clear. Seek for the blue bird — and do not linger in Arechi longer than you must. This land has teeth."
Then he was gone, absorbed by the fog as if he had never been there.
Elhyra helped the children to their feet. Midarion steadied Reikika and drew a deeper breath. Keelzarion stirred beneath his cloak, sensing the tremor in his spirit, and Midarion placed a hand over the small dragon's warm body.
"We leave for the heart of Arechi," Elhyra said. "What lies ahead will test you. But you will no longer walk with chains you cannot see."
Midarion looked toward the broken horizon. The land trembled with distant smoke and buried ruins — a place that devoured kings and spat out the bones.
Something inside him — veiled, but still burning — answered.
"Then let's go."