The Blood of the Veil

---

The woods grew colder the deeper they went. Elara's breath curled in the air like ghostly lace, her injured arm cradled against her chest. The corruption had spread past her shoulder, black veins spidering toward her collarbone. Every step sent jagged heat through her body, but she refused to slow. Beside her, Kael held the lantern aloft, its flickering light carving a path through the gnarled trees.

"You're shaking," he said, glancing at her.

"It's fine," Elara lied.

"Liar." He rummaged in his pack and tossed her a flask. "Drink. It's willow bark tea. Might dull the pain."

She took a sip, the bitter liquid searing her throat. "Since when do you know about herbs?"

"Since you kept almost dying." His smirk faded as he nodded ahead. "There's something… up there."

The trees thinned, revealing a structure swallowed by ivy and time. A temple. Its stone arches sagged under the weight of centuries, and the entrance—a gaping maw framed by carved thorns—seemed to exhale a sigh of rot and damp earth. Elara's pendant pulsed, its warmth sharpening.

"This is it," she whispered. "The place my mother marked."

Kael grimaced. "Of course it's creepy. Why wouldn't it be?"

Inside, the air hummed with the same resonant song Elara had heard in the clearing, but here, it was layered with whispers. Woman's whispers. The walls were etched with faded murals: hooded figures, their hands clasped around a glowing thread—the Veil. One mural showed a woman, her face eerily familiar, tearing the thread in two. Another depicted a line of girls, each holding a thorn pendant, their bodies dissolving into shadows.

"Elara." Kael's voice tightened. He held the lantern over a skeleton slumped against the wall, its bony fingers clutching a journal.

Her mother's journal.

Elara fell to her knees, her good hand trembling as she pried it free. The last pages were filled with frantic script:

"The Veil cannot be mended—only reborn.

A Veyne woman must anchor it, but the cost is her life. I tried to find another way. I failed. Forgive me, my Elara. Do not follow me."

The words blurred. Elara's throat burned. She's dead. She's been dead all along.

"Elara…" Kael hovered awkwardly, like he wanted to reach for her but didn't know how. "We should go. If the temple's a trap—"

A low growl cut him off. Shadows pooled at the far end of the chamber, coagulating into three hulking forms. Shadowfangs. These were larger than the one in the clearing, their eyes glowing like embers in a forge.

"Run!" Kael grabbed her arm, but Elara yanked free.

"No. They'll chase us. We end this here." She clutched the pendant, its light flaring weakly. "Help me. Or leave."

Kael cursed, unsheathing his dagger. "You're such a pain."

The beasts lunged. Elara's pendant blazed, casting jagged light as she swung her blade. The lead Shadowfang snarled, its claws grazing her hip, but she pivoted, driving the dagger into its smoky flank. It shrieked, dissolving—but the second creature slammed into Kael, pinning him to the wall.

"Kael!" Elara threw herself forward, the pendant's light erupting in a searing arc. The Shadowfang recoiled, giving Kael just enough space to plunge his dagger into its throat. The third creature circled them, smarter, hungrier.

Then the whispers crescendoed.

"Child of thorns... You are not alone."

The murals began to glow. The figures in the paintings shifted, their stone eyes turning toward Elara. The woman who'd torn the Veil stepped forward, her voice echoing through the chamber:

"Only a Veyne can weave the thread anew. But to do so, you must become the anchor— body and soul. The Veil will take everything."

Elara's breath hitched. "What happens to the anchor?"

"The Veil is not a wall. It is a living thing. It demands a guardian... a sacrifice. Your mother refused. Will you?"

The final Shadowfang lunged. Elara didn't move.

"ELARA!" Kael shouted.

She closed her eyes.

And let the light consume her.

---

The world went white.

When Elara opened her eyes, she stood in a meadow bathed in twilight. The air smelled of lavender and iron. Before her stood a line of women—her ancestors. Each wore the Thorn Pendant. Each bore the same black veins crawling up their arms.

The first woman spoke. "We are the Weavers. For centuries, we held the Veil. But the thread frays. The more it weakens, the more it demands."

"My mother…" Elara's voice broke.

"Lira Veyne tried to cheat death. She thought she could mend the Veil without sacrifice. But the corruption took her instead." The woman gestured to Elara's arm. "As it will take you."

"So I have to die?" Elara whispered.

"No." The woman's gaze softened. "You must choose to live as the Veil's voice. Your body will fade. Your soul will bind with the thorns. But the children taken… you could save them. And the village."

Elara stared at her hands. "What if I refuse?"

"The Veil will shatter. The shadows will devour your world."

The ancestors began to fade. "Decide, daughter of thorns."

---

She woke to Kael's face hovering above hers, his cheek bleeding. The temple was silent, the Shadowfangs gone.

"You fainted," he snapped, but his hands trembled as he helped her sit up. "Don't do that again."

Elara touched the pendant. "I know how to fix the Veil. But I can't… I can't do it alone."

"Obviously." Kael frowned at her arm—the corruption now reached her neck. "Whatever it is, hurry up."

She led him to the heart of the temple, where a pedestal held a single silver needle and a spool of thread that glimmered like starlight. Her mother's journal had described this: the Weaver's Tools.

"I have to rethread the Veil," Elara said. "But once I start… I don't know if I can stop."

Kael stared at her. "You're scared."

"Aren't you?"

"Terrified." He sat beside the pedestal, his shoulder brushing hers. "But I'll stay. However this ends."

Elara picked up the needle.

The moment it pierced her palm, the world unraveled.

---

END OF CHAPTER 2

Next: Elara begins weaving the Veil, but the ritual awakens a primordial force—and a chilling choice: save the stolen children or protect Kael from the very magic meant to save them.