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**The Shattered Veil**
The sky split open the night the Veil was torn, and nothing was ever the same.
Lira stood at the edge of the ancient library's balcony, her hands gripping the cold stone as she stared into the dark horizon. The once stable shimmer of the Veil, an ethereal barrier that had long protected the world, was gone. In its place, a churning, storming vortex of magic swirled in the sky, casting unnatural colors across the heavens.
She could feel it—the pull of raw magic in the air, the way it danced along her skin, leaving the hair on her arms standing on end. It had been days since the Veil shattered, but even now, she felt its loss as if a great heart had stopped beating.
"Lira!" A voice called out from behind her, breathless and urgent. "They're coming."
Eryx, the knight who no longer wore his armor, appeared beside her. His face was set in a grim frown, eyes scanning the horizon with the practiced gaze of a soldier. He looked out over the rooftops of Halarion, the city of scholars and mages, now a city under siege.
The storm was more than just a force of nature. It brought things with it. Things not of their world.
"How many?" she asked, though she already knew the answer. The Veilstorm had been growing more violent with each passing day, and each day, more creatures spilled into the mortal realm—beasts of shadow and light, twisted things born from nightmares and forgotten realms.
"Too many," Eryx replied, his voice low. "We need to leave before they reach the city."
Lira shook her head. "We can't leave. Not yet." She turned to him, her eyes sharp with determination. "I found something. In the ancient texts, there's a way to stop this, but it's not here."
Eryx stared at her, disbelief flashing in his eyes. "Stop this? The Veil is gone, Lira. You can't just fix something that was never meant to be broken."
"We have to try," she insisted, stepping closer to him. "There are relics, ancient artifacts of the gods, scattered across the land. If we can find them, we might be able to seal the breach. We might be able to restore the Veil."
The wind howled around them, carrying with it the distant roars of the creatures that were fast approaching. Eryx clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck tightening as he fought against the weight of her words. He had lost too much already—his home, his honor, his faith. But even as doubt gnawed at him, something in Lira's eyes held him in place.
"You really think this will work?" he asked, softer now, as though the words pained him.
"I don't know," Lira admitted. "But if we don't try, there won't be anything left of this world to save."
Eryx exhaled sharply, looking away. Below them, the streets of Halarion were alive with the rush of fleeing citizens, scholars and mages alike abandoning their scrolls and tomes for the safety of the outer walls. The Veilstorm was closing in.
"All right," he said finally. "What do we need to do?"
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