Chapter 9: The Stranger in the Mist
The swamp went quiet again. Too quiet.
The whispering wind that had filled Gravewater earlier seemed to have stopped breathing altogether. Noah's instincts screamed that this wasn't a good thing—because, in every bad horror movie, right before someone dies, things get quiet.
"Uh, Lyra?" Noah whispered, shifting his weight nervously. "When your floating orb says 'someone is coming,' is that usually… you know, good news?"
Lyra didn't answer. Her eyes scanned the mist, blade already drawn and glowing faintly.
"Cool," Noah muttered. "No answer. Totally fine. Definitely not going to panic."
From deep within the mist, a figure emerged. At first, Noah thought it was just a trick of the fog—a shifting shape with no real form. But then, boots crunched on broken glass. A tall silhouette took shape, walking slowly, deliberately.
The figure wore a dark cloak that shimmered like it was made from the night sky itself, embroidered with runes Noah didn't recognize. A mask hid the stranger's face, a smooth, silver surface without features—just one crack running across it like an old scar.
In one hand, they held a staff topped with a fragment of glowing crystal, humming softly.
Noah gulped. "I'm gonna vote… not friendly."
"Stay back," Lyra said sharply, stepping in front of him.
The stranger stopped a few feet away, tilting their head slightly. When they spoke, their voice echoed strangely, distorted and distant.
"Veilwalker."
Noah flinched. "Why does everyone here know my name before I say it?"
"They don't know your name," Lyra said, not taking her eyes off the figure. "They know your title. Veilwalker isn't who you are—it's what you are."
"Not sure that makes me feel better," Noah muttered.
The stranger slowly raised their staff. Blue fire flared from its crystal tip, swirling into strange symbols in the air.
"Uh… what's happening?" Noah asked, inching back.
"They're testing you," Lyra said grimly. "Or… marking you. Hard to tell yet."
"Testing? What, like a pop quiz?"
"More like a 'prove you're not weak' type of test."
"Oh, great. My favorite kind."
Suddenly, the staff slammed into the ground. The glass beneath them cracked and glowed as if lava pulsed below. Noah barely had time to jump aside before jagged spikes of black crystal erupted from the ground where he'd been standing.
"Whoa! Hey! I'm not even armed!" Noah yelled, holding up the coin. "This is all I've got!"
The stranger said nothing but advanced with unnerving calmness.
Lyra stepped forward, blocking the path. "Back off," she snapped, her rune blade flashing in warning.
The stranger paused for only a heartbeat, then waved their hand. The blue runes on their cloak flared—and Lyra was pushed back by an invisible force, skidding across the glassy ground.
"Okay. Yeah. Not friendly." Noah's voice cracked as he stumbled backward, the coin heating up in his palm.
The stranger pointed their staff directly at Noah. "Show me," they said. "Show me what the coin chose."
"Show you what?!" Noah yelped. "I don't even know what I'm doing!"
"Then learn," the stranger's voice echoed.
A wave of blue energy blasted toward him like a tidal surge. Noah panicked, holding the coin out in front of him. Instinctively, he thought, Block it.
Silver light erupted from the coin, forming a glowing barrier that cracked under the sheer force of the energy. Noah dug his heels into the ground, his arms shaking. "Okay—this—hurts—!"
Something inside him clicked, like turning the last gear of a locked puzzle. The coin responded, flooding him with warmth. The barrier turned into a dome of silver flames, swallowing the blue energy and sending a pulse of light back at the stranger.
The stranger's staff sparked. They staggered a step, clearly surprised.
Noah blinked at his own hands. "Wait… did I just—win?"
"Not yet," Lyra warned, recovering her footing.
The stranger didn't attack again. Instead, they lowered their staff and stood perfectly still.
"Acceptable," they said finally. "The coin has not made a mistake."
Noah tilted his head, out of breath. "Uh… thanks? I think?"
The stranger turned slightly, looking toward the horizon where the swamp dissolved into jagged cliffs. "You have three days, Veilwalker," they said. "The next breach will open before the third sun sets. If you cannot seal it… the Netherveil will consume more than this world."
"Whoa, whoa, time out," Noah said, holding up his hands. "Three days? I'm still on level one of 'how not to die holding a magic coin'!"
The stranger tilted their head, the crack on their mask catching the faint light. "Then you will fail."
Before Noah could reply, the stranger tapped their staff once against the ground. The glass cracked, mist swirled, and in the blink of an eye—they were gone.
Noah turned to Lyra, mouth open. "Okay, so… who the heck was that?"
Lyra sheathed her blade. "A Keeper, maybe. Or a pretender. Either way, they're dangerous."
"Yeah, I picked up on that," Noah said, still shaking. "Also, three days? What happens if I can't close the next breach? Because I'm guessing it's not just a polite 'game over.'"
Lyra's expression was grim. "If you fail, the Netherveil spreads. And once it spreads too far, there's no going back."
The swamp grew darker, the fractured sky above flickering like broken glass. Aelion, Lyra's orb, hovered closer, its soft voice breaking the silence.
"Incoming movement. Not one, but three."
Noah blinked. "Three what?"
Lyra grabbed his arm. "Not what. Who."
From the fog ahead, shadows shifted. Figures moved. This time, they weren't strangers. Not exactly.
Because Noah recognized one of them.