Chapter 36: The Veil Fractures

The quiet after the celestial assault was a lie. Every gust of wind, every rustle of leaf, hummed with the aftershock of what had just occurred. The sky hadn't simply healed—it had remembered what passed through it. Something in the air was different now, like the world itself was holding its breath.

Elyra sat beneath the boughs of a splintered tree, her palms still glowing faintly with the residue of celestial fire. Her breath came slow, controlled, but her eyes were locked on the sky. She could still see the slit in reality, sealed now—but not forgotten.

Kael stood near the edge of the ridge, sharpening his blade. Not because he needed to. Because it was something to do. A motion he understood in a moment where understanding had grown elusive.

Vespera paced the ring of stones she'd carved into the ash. Her voice low, her words fractured. Spells layered over spells—protection, delay, masking. None of it guaranteed to hold back the next incursion.

"They marked us," she muttered. "That was their first glance. The next will be worse."

Kael didn't look up. "Then we kill them before they land."

"You can't kill the stars, Kael," Vespera snapped, then paused, checking her tone. "They don't come to conquer. They come to overwrite. Whole worlds rewritten, histories erased. Like chalk on stone. You don't fight that with steel."

Kael stood. "Then tell me what does."

Elyra rose slowly, her voice soft. "Knowledge. We need to know what they want. Why now. Why us."

Vespera nodded. "There's one place that might have answers. But it's not on any map."

"Let me guess," Kael said dryly. "It's in a forgotten ruin guarded by death and madness."

"Worse," Vespera said. "It's in the Mirror Vaults. Deep under Virelith. Where time folds in on itself."

Elyra's blood chilled. The Vaults were legend—more warning than place. Said to house echoes of possible futures, reflections of roads not taken.

"Will they let us in?" she asked.

"They don't 'let' anything," Vespera said. "We go in, we survive, or we don't."

Starflame stirred behind them. The great dragon let out a low, thrumming note—an agreement or a warning, Elyra couldn't tell.

Kael turned toward the west. "Then we move. Before they come again."

The journey to Virelith took three days. Each night, the stars moved differently. Each dawn, Elyra woke from dreams not her own—visions of shattered moons, glass oceans, and suns that bled like wounds.

On the fourth morning, Virelith rose before them: a spired city carved into the bones of a dead mountain. The wind carried whispers through its hollow towers. Not a soul moved.

"It's abandoned," Kael observed.

"No," Vespera said. "It's waiting."

The Vault entrance was buried beneath the old council hall. Starflame remained above while the three descended, torches in hand. The stairwell spiraled like a snail's shell, every step echoing into eternity.

Symbols lit as they passed—sigils etched in starmetal, pulsing to their presence. Elyra's flame flickered, reacting.

"They know we're here," she said.

"They've always known," Vespera replied.

At the base, the vault door loomed: a mirror seven meters high, cracked at the edges, misted with frost that didn't melt. Their reflections warped as they approached—Kael older, Vespera scarred, Elyra crowned in fire and shadow.

"It shows what might be," Vespera whispered.

Kael touched the surface. It rippled.

And then it opened.

They stepped through into a hall of glass and memory. Countless mirrors lined the walls, each one showing a version of the world slightly—or drastically—different. In one, Kael wore golden armor, leading legions. In another, Elyra stood alone atop a mountain of bones, wings of light behind her. Vespera appeared as mist, unanchored.

"They're visions," Elyra said, drawn to one where she cradled a dying dragon.

"No," Vespera said. "They're warnings."

A tremor shook the Vault. Cracks spiderwebbed across the floor.

"They found us," Kael said, drawing his blade.

Elyra reached for her fire.

And in the mirror before them—one they hadn't noticed until now—something looked back.

Not a reflection.

A thing.

Pale as starlight, eyes like twin voids. Smiling.

The mirror shattered.

And all hell broke loose.