The ruins loomed around Lira like the skeletal remains of a forgotten world, their crumbling stones slick with rain. The storm had broken over the valley, sending icy droplets sliding down her face, soaking through her clothes. But she barely felt the cold.
All she could see was the artifact.
It sat atop the pedestal, cradled in the gnarled roots that had grown over the stone as if nature itself had tried to reclaim it. Smaller than she had imagined—no larger than a dagger's hilt—but its presence was suffocating. It pulsed with a soft, eerie glow, shifting between deep violet and inky black, as though something inside it was struggling to break free.
The air around it hummed, distorting the space like heat rising from a flame. Lira's fingertips tingled even though she hadn't touched it yet.
A whisper curled through her mind—not words, but a feeling. A promise.
Power.
Truth.
Change.
Lira inhaled sharply.
This thing had cost people their lives. It had driven scholars to madness, left bodies in its wake, and made good men disappear.
Had it been the reason her father never came back?
She stepped closer, her pulse hammering in her ears. Rain dripped from her chin, running down her throat like cold fingers. The stone beneath her boots was treacherous, but she barely noticed. The pull of the artifact was undeniable.
The answers she had spent years chasing—years of searching, of risking her life, of peeling back lies and betrayal—were right in front of her.
All she had to do was reach out.
"Lira."
Riven's voice cut through the storm like steel, sharp and unwavering.
She flinched, her body tensing at the sound. She hadn't even heard him move, but when she turned, he was already there. His dark coat was soaked through, his hair dripping from the rain, but it wasn't the cold that had stiffened his stance.
He was looking at the artifact.
And for the first time since she had met him, she saw fear in his golden eyes.
"Step away from it."
His voice was low, controlled—but beneath it lurked something else. Something dangerously close to desperation.
Lira forced herself to keep her expression neutral, but her fingers curled at her sides. "You knew this was here, didn't you?"
Riven didn't answer right away. The rain dripped from his hair, trailing down the sharp angles of his face, but he didn't move. He held himself perfectly still as if any shift would set off something catastrophic.
"It's not what you think," he said finally. "It's not something you can control."
Lira let out a short, bitter laugh. "Control?" She shook her head, stepping toward him. "I'm not looking to control it. I just want the truth."
"That's how it starts."
Something in his voice sent a chill down her spine.
She had always known Riven was keeping secrets. That much had been obvious from the beginning. But this—
This was different.
His hands were tense at his sides, his entire body coiled like a blade about to strike. He was afraid of it. And more than that—he was afraid of her being near it.
She narrowed her eyes. "What aren't you telling me?"
Riven exhaled sharply, running a hand through his wet hair. "It's not just a relic, Lira. It's a key."
Her breath caught. "A key to what?"
Silence.
His jaw clenched. "The Veil."
A shiver rolled down her spine.
She had suspected as much, but hearing it out loud felt different. Real.
Lira's fingers twitched. The Veil—the barrier between worlds, between life and death, between everything they understood and everything they feared. It had existed for as long as history could remember, its purpose shrouded in myths and half-truths.
And now, standing before her, was the key to unlocking it.
Her father had died for this.
People were still dying for it.
A sharp, searing need burned in her chest.
If she could just figure out how it worked…
She turned back to the pedestal.
Riven moved instantly, grabbing her wrist before she could get closer.
The touch sent a shock through her, but it wasn't from the cold. It was from him—his warmth, his grip, the quiet intensity in his eyes.
"Don't."
His voice was barely above a whisper, but the weight behind it was heavier than anything she had ever heard.
She didn't move. Couldn't.
The rain pounded against the ruins around them, but inside the small space between them, the world felt too still.
His fingers tightened, just slightly. "Once you cross this line, there's no going back."
Lira swallowed hard. "Then tell me the truth, Riven."
His jaw flexed, but he didn't let go.
For a long, agonizing moment, they just stood there—locked in some silent battle neither of them was willing to lose.
Then, finally, Riven exhaled and released her wrist. "If you touch it, it will change you."
Lira frowned. "Change me how?"
He hesitated.
And that hesitation told her everything.
Because if there was one thing she knew about Riven, it was that he never hesitated. Not unless the answer was something he didn't want her to hear.
Lira's heart pounded. "You've touched it before, haven't you?"
His expression darkened, but he didn't deny it.
The realization settled over her like a lead weight. Of course.
He wasn't just afraid of the artifact.
He was afraid of what it had done to him.
Lira took a shaky step back, trying to catch her breath. She wanted to demand more answers. She wanted to press him until he told her everything.
But at the same time…
She wasn't sure she wanted to hear it.
Instead, she turned her gaze back to the artifact, watching the way it pulsed like a heartbeat.
Power.
Truth.
Change.
Riven was right about one thing.
Once she crossed this line, there would be no going back.
And yet, standing here, with the storm raging around her and the past clawing at her heels…
She wasn't sure she had a choice.