The sun hadn't risen yet, but the world glowed with a cold, colorless light — the kind that only appears before dawn, when everything feels slightly unreal.
Kael and Lira stood at the edge of a valley swallowed whole by roots.
What lay below them had once been a city.
Now it looked like the skeleton of a memory.
Twisted thorn-vines the size of towers had pierced through rooftops, curled around broken spires, and dragged entire buildings into the dark earth. Some structures still stood, groaning faintly as the roots tightened around them like constricting serpents.
A faint mist rolled across the ruins… and it wasn't mist at all.
It whispered when the breeze shifted.
Lira tightened her grip on her staff. "I don't like this place."
Kael exhaled slowly, feeling that familiar stirring under his skin — silver fire, restless and irritated, like something wild trapped in a cage.
"We won't be here long," he said, though he didn't believe it himself.
They descended the crumbling path into the thorn-choked streets. Every step cracked old stone. Every shadow seemed to breathe. The air was colder here, too cold for dawn.
Lira stopped suddenly.
"Kael… look."
Ahead stood a wooden signpost, half-crushed under a mass of thorns. The lettering was still visible:
THE CITY OF THORNS — ENTRY FORBIDDEN.
Kael frowned. "Forbidden by who?"
Lira opened her mouth —
A scream cut her off.
A real scream. Human. Young.
Not far.
Kael ran.
He didn't think — he just ran. The silver fire surged instantly, a pulse of heat through his limbs. Lira was right beside him, faster than he expected, no hesitation at all.
They burst into a collapsed courtyard — and froze.
A boy, no older than thirteen, was pinned against a wall of roots as a tall, shape-shifting shadow leaned over him. Its form flickered like smoke caught in a jar, trying to settle into a human-like body but failing, collapsing into tendrils and reforming again.
A Veilborne.
One of the creatures the elders had whispered about.
Kael raised his hand — silver light flickered.
But Lira moved first.
She slammed her staff into the ground. A burst of pale light rippled outward like a shockwave, the air vibrating. The Veilborne screeched as the light struck it, its smoky form unraveling.
Kael blinked — impressed.
Lira shot him a quick glare.
"You're not the only one who can fight."
He grinned despite the danger. "Wouldn't dream of it."
The Veilborne reformed, this time sharper, its edges like broken glass. It lunged.
Lira spun her staff, deflecting the strike with a flash of force.
Kael stepped in — silver flame erupted across his arm — and he slammed his palm into the creature's chest.
The impact was like hitting frost-covered iron.
The Veilborne didn't move.
Then it spoke — a chorus of voices layered on each other:
"SHATTERED FLAME."
Kael's blood ran cold.
It leaned closer.
"THE WORLD REMEMBERS YOU."
Before it could finish — something tore it backward.
Not Kael.
Not Lira.
Something moved through the courtyard — fast, silent, impossible to track — and the Veilborne was ripped apart midair, its smoky form scattering like torn cloth.
Kael backed up instinctively, Lira raising her staff as the dust cleared.
A tall figure stepped forward from the ruin's shadows.
A hood.
A cane.
A faint metallic ring with each step.
The Man of Riddles.
His mismatched eyes glowed faintly under the hood.
"You two," he said lightly, "cause more trouble in a week than most kingdoms do in a century."
He tapped the cane against a stone. "You're welcome, by the way."
Kael exhaled. "You could've warned us."
The man tilted his head. "I did. Not my fault you didn't understand it."
Lira crossed her arms. "You vanished for days."
"Did I?" he mused. "Or were you simply walking too slowly to catch me?"
Kael stepped between him and the boy the creature had attacked.
"Why are you here?" Kael asked.
The Man of Riddles' smile faded.
"The Veilborne are hunting you," he said quietly. "And this is only the beginning."
Kael swallowed hard.
"Why me?"
The man tapped his cane once more, the sound echoing far too loudly for a simple piece of wood.
"Because you carry something inside you," he said, leaning in, voice dropping to a whisper.
"Something broken. Something powerful. Something the world has not forgotten."
Kael's chest tightened.
Lira glanced at him, worry flickering in her eyes — not fear, not helplessness, but the sharp kind of concern of someone ready to fight whatever came next.
The Man of Riddles straightened, cloak shifting like smoke.
"You seek answers," he said. "Then keep walking deeper."
He pointed toward the darkest part of the ruined city — where the roots twisted into a towering archway, like a mouth waiting to swallow anyone foolish enough to enter.
Kael felt a chill.
Lira tightened her grip on her staff.
The Man of Riddles' final words drifted through the thorns like a warning carried by the wind:
"Be careful, little flame. Some truths are not meant to be found… and others are not meant to be survived."
He vanished.
Like he'd never been there.
Kael exhaled.
Lira stepped beside him, eyes hard with resolve.
"Let's go," she said. "If he thinks we'll turn back now, he doesn't know us."
Kael nodded, silver fire pulsing under his skin.
They walked toward the archway of thorns —
and into the heart of the City of Thorns.