Embars Of The Veil

They moved through the forest in silence, shadows gathering thickly beneath the trees. The remnants of the Ember’s warmth clung to the air, a faint reminder of the threat they had barely overcome. Amara’s steps were steady, but each one felt heavier than the last, as if the remnants of the curse had seeped into her bones.

Kaelan walked beside her, quiet but watchful. His gaze flicked occasionally to her, a mixture of curiosity and wariness lingering in his expression. He hadn’t questioned her judgment in leading the creature toward the Veil, hadn’t argued with her methods. But now, with the danger behind them, she could feel his unasked questions hovering like shadows.

“Didn’t think I’d be spending my night hunting Ember creatures,” he said finally, breaking the silence. His tone was light, but there was an edge to it, a note of something she couldn’t quite place.

“It’s not exactly the life I planned for, either,” she replied, her voice soft. “But when the curse spreads, it’s…a matter of duty.”

He raised an eyebrow, glancing at her sidelong. “Duty, huh? Sounds like you’ve done this before.”

Amara hesitated, feeling the weight of his question. “I’m a Veilwalker. It’s…a responsibility passed down in my family.” She kept her tone even, revealing just enough to answer without inviting further inquiry.

“Veilwalker,” he echoed, testing the word. “Not a title you hear every day.”

“No, it isn’t,” she said, her tone cool. “And that’s by design. Veilwalkers exist to protect the boundary between realms, to keep things like the Ember at bay. Or at least, we used to.”

Kaelan nodded, absorbing her words. “But the Ember curse changed that.”

“Yes,” she said simply, not meeting his gaze. “It’s no longer something we can keep out. It’s spreading, seeping into places it never touched before. And the stronger it grows, the harder it is to contain.”

Silence settled between them once more, punctuated only by the quiet rustle of leaves underfoot. Kaelan didn’t press further, and for that, she was grateful. She hadn’t meant to reveal so much—her role as a Veilwalker was something she’d grown accustomed to keeping hidden, even from herself at times.

After a few moments, he cleared his throat. “So…do all Veilwalkers have your kind of magic? Shadow barriers and wards?”

“Not exactly,” she said, glancing at him. “Our magic is tied to the Veil, passed down through generations. Each of us…inherits it differently. For me, it manifests as shadows and wards.”

He nodded thoughtfully, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Handy, I’ll give you that.”

She caught the humor in his eyes, the hint of something playful beneath the wariness. She couldn’t help but return a faint smile, though it quickly faded as her thoughts returned to the curse and the growing darkness it brought.

“What about you?” she asked, breaking the silence that had settled between them. “I could tell from the way you fought…you’ve dealt with things like this before.”

Kaelan’s gaze dropped, his expression guarded. “I wouldn’t say I’m an expert, but I’ve…seen things,” he said, his tone carefully neutral. “The world isn’t as peaceful as some would like to believe.”

She studied him, noting the tension that had crept into his stance, the way his hand lingered near his sword. There was more to his story, she sensed—something he wasn’t ready to share. And she understood that instinct, respected it.

For now.

They continued in silence until the edge of the village came into view. The warm lights of the cottages glowed softly in the distance, casting faint shadows across the fields. Amara’s steps slowed, and she felt the weight of responsibility settle over her shoulders once more.

“Do you need rest?” she asked, glancing at Kaelan. “I can manage the rest on my own.”

He shook his head. “I’ll stay. I want to see this through.”

Amara raised an eyebrow, surprised. She hadn’t expected his willingness to help, hadn’t expected his silent, steady presence to feel almost reassuring. But she nodded, acknowledging his choice, and together they made their way to the village.

As they neared the edge of town, she noticed a figure waiting by the road—a small, hunched shape silhouetted against the moonlit fields.

“Orin?” she called, her heart quickening.

The figure straightened, and her brother’s familiar face came into view, his eyes wide with relief and concern. He ran up to her, stopping just short of throwing his arms around her.

“Amara! I… I thought you might not come back,” he whispered, his voice barely steady.

She ruffled his hair, hiding the tension in her own voice. “Of course I came back. I told you, there’s nothing to worry about.”

He looked over her shoulder, his gaze landing on Kaelan. “Who’s this?”

“A…traveler,” Amara said, not quite meeting Kaelan’s gaze. “He helped me with the Ember creature.”

Orin looked Kaelan up and down, clearly sizing him up. Kaelan gave a polite nod, his expression unreadable.

“Pleasure,” Kaelan said, his tone neutral but polite.

Orin nodded, but his gaze returned quickly to Amara. “The curse… is it spreading, Amara?”

She hesitated, feeling the weight of the question. She wanted to lie, to reassure him, but the truth felt like a heavy stone in her chest. “It’s…contained, for now,” she said carefully. “But we’ll need to reinforce the wards. And I’ll need your help.”

Orin nodded, the determination in his gaze easing some of her worry. He was young, barely old enough to understand the full scope of the danger, but he had a strength that reminded her of their mother.

Together, the three of them walked back toward the village. The silence between them was thick, filled with unspoken fears and the shared understanding that the peace they’d once known was slipping away, piece by piece.

As they neared the cottage, Kaelan stopped, lingering a few steps behind. “I’ll stay in the village,” he said, nodding toward the small inn on the edge of town. “In case the curse stirs again.”

Amara looked at him, surprised by the offer. “You don’t have to. You could move on, leave this to me.”

He shook his head, a flicker of determination in his gaze. “I know what this curse can do. I’ve seen its effects before. And if it’s here, if it’s spreading, I’d rather do something about it than leave it unchecked.”

She considered him for a moment, weighing the sincerity in his eyes. There was a weariness there, a kind of battle-worn resolve she recognized in herself. She gave a small nod, a silent acknowledgment of his choice.

“All right,” she said quietly. “But be careful. The Ember… it’s not something to face alone.”

A faint smile crossed his lips. “I think I’ve gathered that much.”

With a final nod, he turned and made his way toward the inn, his figure disappearing into the night. Amara watched him go, feeling an odd mix of relief and unease. She didn’t know him, not really, and yet he’d chosen to stay, to face the darkness with her.

As she turned back to the cottage, Orin’s gaze was on her, a mixture of worry and admiration in his eyes. She ruffled his hair again, giving him a reassuring smile, though her thoughts remained heavy.

They stepped into the warmth of their home, the familiar smell of dried herbs and old wood easing the tension that had clung to her all night. But as she closed the door behind them, she felt the shadows pressing close, a reminder of the battle yet to come.

The Ember was here, and she had no doubt it would return. And when it did, they would have to be ready.