Arcaris lifted a slender, dark bottle with a metallic sheen, the faint light catching on its surface. He twisted the cap off with a soft click and poured a thick, shadowy liquid into a simple glass with jagged edges. The scent that filled the air was rich—earthy, yet tinged with something sharp, almost otherworldly. He slid the glass toward Kaelen with an easy motion, his eyes watching closely.
“Drink,” Arcaris said, his voice smooth but commanding. “It helps ease the shock of... stories.”
Kaelen eyed the drink, then glanced back at Arcaris. “I’m guessing this isn’t your average tavern brew.”
A hint of amusement crossed Arcaris' face. “No, not quite. But it's not poison either, if that's what you're thinking.”
With a sigh, Kaelen picked up the glass and took a cautious sip. The drink was strong, but smooth—cool at first, before a heat spread slowly down his throat. He set the glass down, watching Arcaris over the rim.
“You’re the leader of the Shadow Celestials,” Kaelen said, breaking the silence. “But that’s not all, is it?”
Arcaris leaned back slightly, his fingers tracing the rim of his own untouched glass. “Very perceptive. No, that’s not all.”
“Then what’s the rest?” Kaelen pressed, his tone measured but curious. “How did this... war start? Why was it so important that your people were exiled?”
Arcaris’ gaze darkened, and for a moment, a shadow of something heavy flickered across his face. Nostalgia mixed with something more bitter. “Seventy-three years ago, everything changed. But the seeds were planted long before that.”
He paused, and Kaelen could tell he was choosing his words carefully.
“The Arcanists—the ones who hold all the light in Aether—always feared what they didn’t understand. And our magic... they saw it as a threat, an imbalance. But we never sought to bring chaos or darkness, as they believed. No, our goal was balance—true balance. Light and dark, in harmony.”
Kaelen narrowed his eyes. “So what tipped the scales? What caused the war?”
Arcaris’ lips twitched into a wry smile. “A ritual. One they never truly understood. We sought to tap into the cosmic forces that flow between worlds. The same forces that connect dimensions. The Arcanists saw it as dangerous. They feared we would open a door we couldn’t close.”
“And would you?” Kaelen asked, not missing the subtle tension in the room.
“No,” Arcaris said firmly. “We knew what we were doing. But Malachar and his council didn’t care. Fear, Kaelen. Fear is what drives men to do terrible things.”
Kaelen exhaled slowly, absorbing the weight of those words. “And that’s why you were exiled? For trying to restore this... balance?”
Arcaris nodded. “In their eyes, yes. They thought we were inviting catastrophe. They attacked before we could complete the ritual, and the war that followed was... devastating. Many died on both sides. We were exiled, cut off from the very balance we were trying to preserve.”
Kaelen leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking onto Arcaris’. “And what does this have to do with me? Why bring me here?”
Arcaris paused, his gaze intense. “You are Veilborne, Kaelen.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning.
Kaelen felt his breath catch. He had heard the term before, but never fully understood it. “I know what I am... sort of. But why is that so important?”
Arcaris leaned forward now, his tone quieter but filled with gravity. “A Veilborne is not just someone with unique powers. You are a bridge—a living connection between this world and what lies beyond the Veil. You were born on a day when the Veil was so thin that the cosmic forces bled into you. That’s what makes you different. That’s why you’re dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” Kaelen’s voice held a note of sarcasm. “I can barely control this... whatever it is.”
Arcaris smiled again, but it was a smile touched with sympathy. “It’s not about control, not yet. But you were chosen by forces beyond any of us. Forces that even the Arcanists fear.”
Kaelen’s brow furrowed. “Chosen for what?”
“To shape the future,” Arcaris said simply. “The energy that flows through you—through all Veilborne—is tied to the balance of worlds. You can restore that balance, Kaelen, or you can break it. The choice will be yours, eventually. But there are those who seek to use you, to tip that balance in their favor.”
Kaelen sat back, processing. “And you? What do you want?”
“I want the same thing I’ve always wanted,” Arcaris said softly, his eyes darkening. “Balance. The true kind. And for my people to be restored to their rightful place. The Arcanists hold too much sway, and the scales are tipped in their favor. If the balance isn’t restored, everything will crumble.”
Kaelen was silent for a moment, his mind racing with everything Arcaris had revealed. “And this... ritual. The one from seventy-three years ago. Was it connected to the Veilborne?”
Arcaris nodded slowly. “Yes. It was an attempt to harness the same cosmic forces that gave you your powers. But we were interrupted before we could finish. That’s why it’s so important now—why you’re so important now. The Veil is weakening again. And this time, the forces are more unstable. If we don’t act...”
Kaelen stared at his drink, his thoughts swirling. “So, what? You want me to finish what you started?”
Arcaris chuckled softly. “In a way. But it’s more complicated than that. You’re not just a pawn in this, Kaelen. You’re a key player. And I don’t think you’ve even begun to understand what that means.”
Kaelen looked up at Arcaris, his jaw tightening. “I’m no one’s pawn.”
“No,” Arcaris agreed, a glint of respect in his eyes. “You’re not. But the choices you make in the coming days will determine the fate of more than just yourself. Whether you like it or not, you are Veilborne, and that carries a weight you can’t escape.”
Kaelen’s grip tightened on the glass, his mind racing. “And what if I refuse? What if I don’t want any part of this?”
Arcaris’ eyes flickered with something—was it regret? “You can try to run from it, but fate has a way of catching up with you. The Veil is weakening, Kaelen. Whether you fight it or embrace it, the storm is coming.”
The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken tension. Kaelen took another sip of his drink, the weight of everything settling on his shoulders. Finally, he broke the silence with a sarcastic edge in his voice.
“So... does this story always come with a drink, or am I special?”
Arcaris chuckled, the tension breaking slightly. “Consider it a courtesy. After all, not every day a Veilborne walks into my domain.”
Kaelen smirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He set the glass down and leaned forward, locking eyes with Arcaris.
“Tell me one thing,” Kaelen said quietly. “If this balance is restored... what happens to me?”
Arcaris studied him for a long moment before answering, his voice soft and deliberate. “That, Kaelen, depends entirely on you.”
Kaelen leaned back in his chair, letting the weight of Arcaris' words settle for a moment before responding. His mind raced with everything he had just learned, but one question gnawed at him.
“And the others?” Kaelen asked, voice low but steady. “The other Veilborne. What happened to them?”
Arcaris’ eyes darkened, and he paused before answering. “There have only been two others before you, Kaelen. The first was over a thousand years ago. The second… more recent, about two hundred years ago.”
Kaelen raised an eyebrow. “Two in over a thousand years? That’s it?”
Arcaris nodded, his expression growing more serious. “Becoming Veilborne isn’t something that just happens. It’s a rare alignment of cosmic forces, a moment where the boundaries between our world and the Veil are so thin that a new life is infused with the energy of both realms. It’s... unpredictable.”
“And what happened to them?” Kaelen pressed, not willing to let the topic slip away. “The other two?”
Arcaris leaned forward slightly, his voice soft but heavy with the weight of the past. “The first Veilborne was an anomaly. He had immense power, yes, but he was also terrified of it. He tried to contain it, suppress it. And in the end, it consumed him.”
Kaelen’s breath hitched. “Consumed him?”
Arcaris nodded slowly. “He tried to sever his connection to the Veil. Tried to shut off the flow of energy, but you can’t just break a bond like that. The power turned inward, and... well, the man was torn apart, body and soul. The forces are not to be trifled with.”
Kaelen swallowed, the idea of that fate sending a cold shiver down his spine. He gripped the edge of the table, trying to ground himself as he processed this new information. “And the second?”
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“The second was more... proactive,” Arcaris continued, eyes narrowing in thought. “He embraced his power, at least for a time. But he too was overwhelmed, though in a different way.”
Kaelen’s eyes met Arcaris’, searching for answers. “What do you mean?”
Arcaris sighed, his fingers drumming against the table. “The energy of the Veil is chaotic, volatile. It’s not like any magic you or I have seen before. The second Veilborne became a conduit for that energy, and it drove him mad. He saw things... things no mortal mind should see. The pressure, the weight of all those worlds bleeding into him—it broke him.”
Kaelen sat in stunned silence for a moment, his mind trying to comprehend what it would mean to be a vessel for such raw, uncontrollable power. “So that’s it then? They both ended up dead or worse?”
Arcaris met his gaze steadily. “Yes. But you’re different, Kaelen.”
A bitter laugh escaped Kaelen’s lips. “Am I? Because from where I’m standing, it sounds like I’m on the same path.”
Arcaris shook his head, his expression firm. “You’re not. The first two had no guidance, no understanding of what they were. They were alone. But you… you have a choice. You can learn to control it. To balance it.”
Kaelen scoffed. “And if I don’t?”
“The Veil will break through,” Arcaris said softly. “And not just for you. If the energy within you isn’t balanced, it could tear open the boundaries between worlds, letting forces from beyond flood into ours. Forces that would consume everything.”
Kaelen’s jaw tightened as he stared at the table, the enormity of the situation crashing over him. “And this is supposed to motivate me? Knowing that if I screw this up, the entire world falls apart?”
Arcaris let out a slow breath. “You’re not alone in this, Kaelen. Not anymore. That’s why you were brought here. To understand, to learn.”
Kaelen looked up at Arcaris, his expression filled with frustration and uncertainty. “What if I don’t want this? What if I never wanted to be some cosmic chess piece in your war?”
Arcaris’ eyes softened, and for the first time, there was a hint of sympathy in his voice. “None of us asked for this, Kaelen. Least of all you. But we don’t always get to choose the roles we play. You can run from this, deny it, but the Veil will find you eventually. It always does.”
Kaelen let out a long breath, his mind still struggling to wrap itself around the weight of everything. He ran a hand through his hair, his voice low as he asked the question that had been burning in the back of his mind since the beginning.
“Why me?”
Arcaris leaned back slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied Kaelen. “That’s the question, isn’t it? Why you? The truth is... I don’t know. No one does. The Veilborne aren’t chosen by any mortal hand. The energy that flows through the Veil—it’s beyond our understanding. All we know is that when the time is right, when the balance is threatened, a Veilborne is born.”
“So, I’m just... some cosmic accident?”
Arcaris shook his head. “No. You’re a cosmic solution.”
Kaelen stared at him, the weight of those words settling deep in his chest. He felt a sharp pang of anger, of frustration, but also... something else. A sliver of understanding.
“Fine,” Kaelen said finally, his voice hardening. “Let’s say I buy into this... Veilborne thing. What happens now?”
Arcaris’ expression shifted slightly, a faint smile touching his lips. “Now? Now we prepare. You’re not alone in this, Kaelen. You’ve got a long road ahead of you, but with the right guidance, you can avoid the fate of the others. You have the chance to succeed where they failed.”
Kaelen raised an eyebrow. “And you’re offering that guidance?”
Arcaris gave a slight nod, his eyes gleaming. “You’re in the Shadow Celestials’ domain now, Kaelen. We understand the balance better than anyone else. You’ll learn how to control it here. But first... you need to understand what’s at stake.”
Kaelen exhaled, staring down into the depths of his empty glass. “And if I refuse?”
Arcaris didn’t hesitate. “You’ll be on your own. The energy inside you will build, slowly at first, but eventually... it will break free. And when it does, you won’t be able to stop it.”
“So that’s why… why I’ve seen it twice now. The Entity. Why I hear those voices, feel the pull of something I can’t control. The power... it speaks to me, doesn’t it?”
Arcaris' eyes widened for the briefest of moments, shock flashing across his normally composed features. "It’s happening, then," he murmured, almost to himself. He leaned forward, his gaze sharp. “Tell me everything. What exactly did you see, hear? How did it reach you?”
Kaelen frowned, still unsure how much he should reveal. “It... happened in Core. I was surrounded by advanced tech. The first time, it was during a mission, the second... when I was under pressure. Both times, I felt its pull, but I didn’t... let it in.”
Arcaris' expression darkened, but there was a gleam of interest in his eyes. “You’re holding back,” he said quietly, but didn’t push for more. “Still, twice? That’s... significant.”
A pause lingered in the air before Arcaris continued. "Do you know why you’re different, Kaelen? Why it didn’t manifest at a younger age, as it did with the others?"
Kaelen tilted his head, curiosity mingling with wariness. "You mean the other Veilborne?"
Arcaris nodded, his tone growing more solemn. "Yes. The others—two before you—both manifested their abilities by the age of fifteen. But you... you're more mature. How old are you now?"
“Twenty,” Kaelen replied, his voice steady but laced with curiosity.
Arcaris studied him for a moment, then said, “That’s precisely what makes you different. Your powers didn’t emerge in adolescence because you aren’t just any Veilborne. It’s not just the fragile balance between dimensions that chose you—your bloodline plays a role. Something in your lineage made you more attuned to the Veil’s energy, a confluence of forces that makes you a perfect bridge between this world and the next.”
Kaelen's breath caught in his throat as the weight of Arcaris' words sank in. "So... it’s not just chance?"
Arcaris shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving Kaelen's. "No, not chance. You were always destined for this. But your bloodline, Kaelen—there’s more to it than you know. Something in your past, your family, made you far more than just another Veilborne. And it’s why the Veil is calling to you now, more than ever."
Kaelen exhaled, his voice rougher now, memories pressing at the edges of his mind. "My parents... they were normal. They worked hard just to make sure there was food on the table, that I had a roof over my head. Nothing special about them. Just... normal."
Arcaris narrowed his eyes, studying Kaelen intently. “Where are they now?”
A shadow passed over Kaelen’s face, his jaw tightening as he looked away. “They’re dead.”
The room fell into a heavy silence, and Arcaris leaned forward, his voice quieter but more probing. “When did they die? How?”
Kaelen swallowed hard, feeling the familiar ache rise in his chest. "I was... twelve. They were killed in an attack. Bandits, they said. It was so sudden—one moment, we were just living our lives, and the next… everything was gone." His hand balled into a fist as the memories resurfaced, raw and painful.
Arcaris' gaze sharpened at the mention of bandits, but he didn’t interrupt. He waited, patiently letting the pieces fall into place as Kaelen spoke.
Kaelen’s voice grew softer, tinged with a bitter edge. "They fought hard. I remember that. My dad... he wasn’t a warrior, but that night, he looked like one. He told me to hide, and I did, like a coward. I just... watched as they died, protecting me from people who never even cared about them. They weren’t after anything we had."
“They were after you.” Arcaris' voice was like a knife, cutting through the weight of Kaelen’s words.
Kaelen blinked, his eyes snapping back to Arcaris. “What?”
Arcaris leaned back, his expression unreadable, but his eyes burned with a newfound understanding. "It wasn’t a random attack. They weren’t bandits. They were after you. Think about it, Kaelen. Your parents were protecting you from something much bigger than just a group of thugs."
Kaelen shook his head, trying to make sense of it. "But... they were just regular people. My parents weren’t... I don’t know... important."
Arcaris arched a brow, his gaze piercing. “Or maybe they were far more important than you ever realized. Think about it. Why would they fight like that? Why would they risk everything, knowing they couldn’t win? They knew what was coming. They knew who was after you.”
The realization hit Kaelen like a sledgehammer, knocking the wind from his lungs. His parents—who had always been his world, his anchors—were more than what they seemed. And worse, they had died because of him.
He stared at Arcaris, his voice barely a whisper. "You’re saying... they weren’t who I thought they were. They died because of me."
Arcaris didn’t flinch, didn’t soften the blow. "It’s likely. Whoever was hunting you—Veilborne like you—knew what you would become. Your parents, whoever they really were, did everything they could to shield you from that fate. And in the end... they paid the price."
Kaelen’s chest tightened as the weight of the truth crushed down on him. Everything he had known about his past, his family, felt like it was crumbling away. “So they weren’t normal at all... and they died because of me.”
Arcaris' eyes softened, if only for a moment. "They died to protect you, Kaelen. Don’t let their sacrifice be in vain."
Kaelen sat there, the weight of the revelations settling heavily on his chest. The room felt colder, more distant, like the very air had thinned out. He stared at the glass in his hand, fingers tight around the rim, knuckles white. The silence between them stretched on, and for once, Kaelen didn’t have a quip, didn’t have a sarcastic remark to push away the pain. This was different. This was truth he couldn’t shake off.
Arcaris watched him carefully, his sharp eyes missing nothing. He leaned back, taking in Kaelen’s turmoil without a word, knowing full well that the young man needed time. After a while, he stood, the quiet clink of glass against the table the only sound in the room.
“Here,” Arcaris said softly, pouring another drink into Kaelen’s glass. “It doesn’t heal, but it dulls the edges.”
Kaelen looked up, his lips twitching in the ghost of a half-hearted smile. “Not sure anything can dull this.”
Arcaris gave a slight nod, swirling his own glass. “You’d be surprised. The weight you carry is heavy, but it’s not yours alone. Every Veilborne... they all felt it, the burden. The pull of something bigger than them. But you…” He paused, studying Kaelen with a critical eye. “You’re different.”
"Different, how?" Kaelen asked, his voice rough but laced with curiosity. "You keep saying I'm different—so how, exactly? And how does the bloodline help me more than the others when the power is this... overwhelming?"
“You’ve held it together longer than any Veilborne before you. You’ve held back the storm.” Arcaris took a long drink, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “They didn’t.”
Kaelen swallowed hard, his throat tight. He hadn’t thought about that, not really. He had always thought he was just surviving, barely holding on by a thread. But what if he’d been doing something more all along? What if he was stronger than he had given himself credit for?
“What exactly happened to them?” Kaelen asked, a quiet edge to his voice. “The other Veilborne.”
Arcaris hesitated for just a moment before answering. “They couldn’t control the power, Kaelen. It overwhelmed them. They lost themselves in it. And in the end… the world lost them.”
Kaelen took a shaky breath, staring at the drink in his hand. “And I’m next?”
Arcaris shook his head. “Not if you learn to control it. That’s why you’re different. Your power didn’t awaken at the same age as theirs. There’s something else at play here. Something deeper in your bloodline. Something that gave you time.”
Kaelen frowned, his fingers drumming lightly against the glass. “You mean because of my family?”
Arcaris nodded, leaning forward slightly. “Yes. It wasn’t just the Veil that gave you this power. There’s something in your blood that made you a stronger conduit. That’s why your power didn’t surface earlier. Why you didn’t fall apart like the others.”
A long silence settled between them. Kaelen felt the sharp sting of grief and guilt twist inside him. His parents weren’t who he thought they were. He wasn’t who he thought he was. And worse, their deaths… they weren’t just a tragedy. They were a consequence.
Arcaris poured himself another drink, watching as Kaelen tried to process everything. "It’s not easy, knowing that you’re the key to something much larger. But in time, you’ll come to understand that your past is just one piece of a much bigger puzzle."
Kaelen gave a small, bitter laugh. "A puzzle I didn’t ask to solve."
“No one does,” Arcaris said, his voice calm but firm. “But the pieces are in front of you, whether you like it or not. The only question is… what are you going to do with them?”
Kaelen was quiet for a long moment, his mind racing with everything he had learned. He stared at the dimly lit room around him, the soft flicker of shadows casting strange shapes on the walls. Finally, he looked up at Arcaris, his expression steeled with determination.
“I guess I don’t have much of a choice then, do I?”
Arcaris smiled, but there was no triumph in it, only understanding. “No, Kaelen. None of us do.”
And with that, Arcaris stood, motioning for Kaelen to follow. “There’s something I want to show you.”
Kaelen hesitated, then rose to his feet, the weight of the conversation still pressing on his chest, but there was something else now too, an ember of resolve.
The past was gone, but his future was waiting.