That night, Arielle could not sleep.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw places she had never been—floating cities, forests made of crystal, shadows wearing crowns.
She rose quietly and slipped into the elders' archive, a place forbidden to all but the oldest scholars.
The door opened at her touch.
Inside, dust-covered scrolls lined the walls. One symbol appeared again and again—a star split by a blade.
Her star.
Her fingers trembled as she unrolled a scroll marked "The Child of the Veil."
When the realms begin to bleed,
She will awaken.
Born of one world, claimed by many.
Her blood will open gates.
Her choice will decide which realm survives.
Arielle staggered back.
"So it's true," a voice said softly.
She spun around.
Elder Morien stood in the doorway.
"You were never meant to stay here forever," he continued. "You were hidden. Protected. Because if the other realms find you—"
The ground shook violently.
A scream pierced the night.
Then another.
Morien's face drained of color.
"They've found you," he said.
The Veil had broken.