chapter 3

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Lira took a step back, her eyes darting between Jorath and the gate just beyond him. Her heart pounded, not only from the chase but from the danger Jorath represented. The rogue mage had a reputation in Halarion—his experiments with forbidden magic had nearly destroyed a section of the city, and the Council had cast him out before the Veil had even shattered.

"What do you want, Jorath?" Lira asked, keeping her voice steady despite the fear tightening in her chest.

Jorath smiled, though it was more of a smirk, the kind that sent a chill through Lira. "Same thing you want, I imagine," he said, his voice calm and almost playful. "To stop the Veilstorm, to reclaim the relics. But unlike you, I'm not blinded by old prophecies and dusty scrolls. I know the truth."

Lira frowned, her mind racing. "The truth?"

Jorath stepped closer, his hands raised as if to show he meant no harm, though Lira knew better than to trust him. "The Veil was never meant to last forever," he continued. "The gods who created it knew that. They built the Veil as a cage, trapping not only the otherworldly beings, but themselves as well. And now, with the Veil gone, they're returning. They want their world back, and they'll stop at nothing to reclaim it."

Lira shook her head, disbelief warring with the unsettling feeling that Jorath knew more than she did. "If the gods are returning, then we have to stop them. We need to restore the Veil."

Jorath laughed, a low, mocking sound. "Restore the Veil? Why would you want to bring back a prison? The gods were overthrown for a reason, Lira. They were tyrants, and the world was better off without them. What I'm offering you is freedom—freedom from the gods, freedom from the chaos of the Veilstorm. But it requires a different kind of power."

Lira's pulse quickened. "What are you talking about?"

"The relics you seek," Jorath said, stepping closer still, "are not keys to repairing the Veil. They are the remnants of the gods' power, hidden away for centuries. If you gather them, you won't be sealing the Veil—you'll be unlocking something far greater. You'll have the power to reshape the world, to make it better than it ever was."

Lira's breath caught in her throat. The weight of his words pressed down on her, a mixture of fear and curiosity battling inside her mind. Was it possible that everything she had believed was wrong? That the relics were not tools to restore balance, but weapons that could change the world in unimaginable ways?

Behind her, she heard a low growl, and her heart sank. The Veilbeasts. Eryx was still fighting them, and she didn't have time to stand here and debate with Jorath.

"We don't have time for this," she said, her voice sharper than she intended. "Move aside, or I'll—"

"You'll what?" Jorath interrupted, his smile growing. "Use your magic on me? You don't stand a chance, Lira. But I'm not here to fight you. I'm here to offer you a choice. Come with me, and I'll show you the truth about the relics, about the gods. Or you can keep running, playing the Council's game, and watch as this world burns."

Lira's mind raced. She knew she couldn't trust Jorath. He was dangerous, unpredictable. But if what he was saying was true—if the relics were more than just tools to repair the Veil—then she needed to know. She couldn't risk being blind to the truth.

But then there was Eryx. He was out there, fighting for his life, and she couldn't abandon him. Not now.

Lira clenched her fists, her heart pounding in her ears. "I'm not going with you, Jorath," she said, her voice firm. "But if you want to help stop the Veilstorm, then help us fight. Otherwise, stay out of my way."

Jorath's smile faded, replaced by a look of disappointment. "Pity," he said softly. "You could have been so much more."

Before Lira could react, Jorath raised his hand, and with a flick of his wrist, he vanished in a swirl of dark magic, leaving her alone at the gates.

Lira stood there for a moment, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She didn't have time to dwell on Jorath's words. She had to find Eryx, had to escape the city before the Veilbeasts overwhelmed them.

Turning back, she sprinted toward the sounds of battle. The Veilbeasts were closing in, and she wouldn't leave Eryx behind.

As she rounded the corner, she saw him—Eryx, his sword gleaming with faint light, fighting off three of the shadowy creatures. His movements were fluid, precise, but he was tiring, and the Veilbeasts were relentless.

Lira raised her hands, calling on the magic that pulsed within her. Energy crackled at her fingertips, and with a shout, she unleashed a blast of light that struck the nearest Veilbeast, sending it howling into the air before it dissolved into mist.

Eryx glanced over his shoulder, his eyes flashing with relief. "Took you long enough!"

Lira grinned, already preparing another spell. "Sorry, I got held up by an old friend."

Together, they fought off the remaining Veilbeasts, their combined strength finally overwhelming the creatures. As the last beast dissolved into shadow, Lira collapsed to her knees, exhausted but alive.

Eryx sheathed his sword, breathing heavily. "We need to get out of here before more show up."

Lira nodded, her thoughts still swirling with Jorath's words. She had made her choice—for now. But the seeds of doubt had been planted.

As they made their way toward the gates, leaving the city of Halarion behind, Lira couldn't shake the feeling that the real battle was only just beginning.

And the truth about the relics—whatever it was—would soon come to light.

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Let me know how you'd like to proceed with the next part, or if you have any specific directions you'd like to take the story!