Threads of the past

The morning broke with a thin mist curling through the forest, its damp fingers weaving between the trees and clinging to the stones of the sanctuary. The air was heavy with the scent of moss and earth, and the stillness carried a weight of expectation. As I stepped out into the clearing, Lysandra and Alaric were already waiting, their expressions serious.

"We've worked on awakening your power," Lysandra began, her voice cutting through the quiet. "But control and strength alone aren't enough. To truly understand your role, you must confront the roots of your lineage."

I furrowed my brow. "What does that mean?"

Lysandra gestured to a small, worn satchel at her feet. From it, she withdrew a polished mirror encased in silver, its surface faintly glowing with an inner light. "This is a memory shard," she explained. "It contains fragments of the past—pieces of your ancestors' lives, their struggles, and their triumphs. It will show you where you come from and, perhaps, why you were chosen."

I hesitated, the idea of delving into the past both intriguing and daunting. "What if I don't like what I see?"

Lysandra's gaze softened. "The truth is rarely easy, Iori. But understanding it will make you stronger."

Alaric stepped forward, his amber eyes meeting mine. "I'll be here. Whatever you find, you won't face it alone."

His words steadied me, and I nodded. "Alright. What do I have to do?"

Lysandra handed me the mirror. "Hold it, and focus on the warmth within you—the spark of your power. The shard will do the rest."

I took the mirror, its cool surface tingling against my palms. Closing my eyes, I drew a deep breath and reached for the flicker of energy within me. It responded, flowing toward the mirror like a thread being pulled taut.

Suddenly, the world tilted.When I opened my eyes, I was no longer in the sanctuary. I stood in a grand hall, its vaulted ceiling supported by towering marble pillars. Light streamed through stained glass windows, casting vibrant patterns on the polished floor. The air hummed with an otherworldly energy, and I felt both awed and out of place.

In the center of the hall stood a woman draped in flowing robes, her presence commanding yet gentle. Her hair was a cascade of golden waves, and her eyes shone with the same light I had seen in my reflection when my power first surfaced. She turned toward me, a knowing smile on her lips.

"Welcome, child," she said, her voice like the chiming of bells. "You have come far to stand here."

I took a cautious step forward. "Who are you?"

"I am Elaris," she replied, "your ancestor and the first guardian of the Veil. It is through my blood that the mantle has passed to you."

I stared at her, my mind reeling. "Why me? Why now?"

Elaris's expression turned solemn. "The Veil has always been a fragile thing, held together by the strength and sacrifice of those chosen to protect it. But its integrity has weakened over the centuries, and now, a great darkness threatens to consume it. You were chosen because your spirit carries the resilience and compassion needed to restore what has been lost."

I shook my head, frustration bubbling to the surface. "I don't even know what I'm doing. I'm just… ordinary. How am I supposed to fix something this big?"

Elaris stepped closer, her gaze steady. "You are far from ordinary, Iori. The strength of the guardians is not in their power but in their hearts. You have already begun to awaken your gift. Trust in yourself, and in the bonds you forge with those who stand beside you."

The hall around us began to shimmer, the edges blurring as though it were being washed away by an unseen tide.

"Wait," I said, panic rising. "What am I supposed to do next?"

Elaris's voice echoed as the world dissolved into light. "Seek the threads that bind our worlds. They will guide you to the truth."

I woke with a jolt, the mirror slipping from my hands. Alaric caught it before it hit the ground, his eyes searching mine. "What happened?"

I drew a shaky breath, trying to make sense of what I had seen. "I met her. Elaris. She said… I need to find the threads that bind the worlds. I think she meant the Veil."

Lysandra's expression was unreadable as she retrieved the mirror. "The threads are real. They're ancient anchors that hold the Veil together, scattered across both realms. If the enemy seeks to destroy the Veil, they'll target those threads."

"How do we find them?" I asked, determination hardening my voice.

Lysandra's gaze met Alaric's, a silent exchange passing between them. Finally, she spoke. "There's an artifact—an old map hidden deep in the ruins of Velanthris. It's said to reveal the locations of the threads."

Alaric's jaw tightened. "Velanthris is dangerous, Lysandra. The Sentals have a stronghold nearby."

"It's our only lead," she countered. "And we're running out of time."

I stood, brushing the dirt from my hands. "Then we'll go. We have to."

Alaric hesitated, his concern evident. "You're not ready for a place like Velanthris, Iori."

I met his gaze, my resolve unwavering. "I'll never be ready if I don't start. We have to try."

He sighed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You're stubborn, I'll give you that."

Lysandra nodded, a hint of approval in her eyes. "Prepare yourselves. We leave at dawn."

As the forest darkened around us, I felt a strange sense of purpose settle over me. The threads of the past were beginning to weave a picture of the future—a picture I was determined to see through, no matter the cost.