Eira awoke to the soft sound of murmuring voices and the distant chirping of morning birds. The sky overhead was a pale, ashen gray, and the air held a stillness that made it feel as though the world was holding its breath.
She hadn't really slept. Her thoughts had circled restlessly through the night, trying to make sense of the truth Kaela had revealed.
The last of the Mageborn.
She sat up slowly, her body stiff from the cold stone beneath her. Around her, the ruins were quiet, cloaked in shadow and early mist. But even in their silence, they seemed to hum with a strange sort of life, like the walls remembered things she had yet to learn.
Kaela stood near the entrance, her figure half-shrouded in the fog drifting through the broken archways. Her arms were crossed loosely, her gaze lost in the trees beyond. Torin was seated off to the side, sharpening his blade with careful, rhythmic strokes, as if every scrape of metal brought him closer to something he couldn't name.
"Good morning," Kaela said without looking at her. Her voice was calm, steady, like water trickling over stone. "You didn't sleep."
Eira blinked slowly, rubbing at her eyes. "Didn't really feel like I could."
Kaela finally turned toward her. Her face was unreadable, but her eyes held a quiet weight, the kind born of years spent carrying burdens alone.
"You don't have to accept it all at once," she said. "No one expects you to. But the truth is the truth, whether it's welcome or not."
Eira hugged her knees to her chest, her voice barely above a whisper. "I never asked for any of this. I just wanted to be… normal."
"Normal is a luxury few of us ever truly have," Kaela replied, sitting beside her now. "And for people like us, it's a lie we tell ourselves when we're afraid."
Eira was silent for a moment, letting Kaela's words settle. She watched Torin from the corner of her eye. His movements were precise, deliberate, like every action was a form of discipline.
"What about you?" Eira asked. "Did you ever want to be normal?"
Torin paused, his blade stilling for a beat. "Normal doesn't keep you alive," he said. "It doesn't keep others safe."
He gave a wry smile, eyes still on the blade. "Tried it once. Thought I could disappear into some village, fix roofs, grow vegetables, smile at neighbors. Didn't last a week. Turns out nightmares don't care if you're planting carrots."
Eira's breath caught, unsure whether to laugh or feel sorry for him.
There was no anger in his voice. Just something quieter beneath the edge. Not broken, just worn, like a blade used too many times but still sharp.
"And you?" Eira asked Kaela. "Why are you here? Really?"
Kaela didn't answer right away. Her gaze flicked toward the forest again. "Because I can't let the Veil win. Not again. I lost too much the first time."
Eira studied her. There was something in Kaela's voice that hadn't been there before. A fracture. Not weakness, but a memory that still bled beneath the surface.
"Was it someone?" Eira asked gently.
Kaela's jaw tightened. She looked away. "Everyone has someone they've lost to the Veil. You'll understand that soon enough."
Eira nodded slowly. Not everything needed to be said aloud. Pain had a way of carving itself into silence.
"They're monsters," Eira said, her voice trembling with quiet fury. "They've erased everything. Lied to the world about what magic really is."
Kaela glanced back at her. "They fear what they cannot control. That fear becomes hatred. And hatred, when left to fester, becomes a weapon."
Torin stood and sheathed his blade. "The Veil rewrote history. Buried the truth. And they made sure no one would remember who the Mageborn really were."
"But why?" Eira asked. "Why go to such lengths?"
"Because the Mageborn didn't serve them," Kaela said. "We served balance. The Veil wants domination. The Mageborn stood in their way."
Eira stood as well, brushing the dust from her cloak. The fire inside her stirred like a restless wind, aching to be understood.
"So what do we do now?" she asked.
Kaela rose, her expression serious. "We find the Lost City of Ascarith."
Eira blinked. The name rang like a bell from long-forgotten stories, half-whispered tales from her days in the orphanage. A city hidden beyond the veil of time. A place where the Mageborn had once lived in harmony with their magic.
"That place… it's real?"
Kaela nodded. "It was a place of knowledge and power. And if we're going to defeat the Veil, we need what lies within it."
Eira hesitated. "But the Veil's been looking for it too, haven't they?"
"For centuries," Kaela said. "But they don't know where it is. Not truly. They've tried to erase it, bury its memory. But it endures. Like all things built in truth."
Torin stepped beside them, adjusting the strap of his pack. His eyes met Eira's, and for the first time, there was something softer there, something almost like understanding.
"You'll see things in Ascarith that will change how you see everything," he said. "Your past. Your future. Even yourself."
Eira took a breath and let it out slowly. Her fear hadn't vanished, but it no longer ruled her. She wasn't just a girl with a strange gift anymore. She was Mageborn. The last. And her path was no longer a question of fate, but of choice.
"Then let's go," she said. "Before I change my mind."
Kaela's lips quirked upward. Not quite a smile, but close. "Good. The road ahead will test you, Eira. But I promise, you won't face it alone."
As they set off into the woods, the mist curling around their feet like ghostly hands, Eira glanced once over her shoulder at the ruin behind them. The last place she had been only a girl. The place where the truth had found her.
She didn't know what waited in Ascarith. She didn't know if she would survive what came next.