Beneath the Crescent

The city's night pressed in, thick with mist and secrets. Ayesha's apothecary was a fragile island of light in the gloom, its windows shuttered against the world. Rylan slept fitfully on the cot, his breathing shallow but steady. Kael stood by the door, every muscle taut, the dagger shards heavy in his pouch.

Ayesha moved quietly around her shop, gathering herbs and vials. She glanced at Kael, her green eyes sharp. "You can't stay here long. Word travels fast in Veylor. If the Order is searching, they'll find you."

Kael nodded, tracing the edge of one shard with his thumb. "Do you know a way out?"

She hesitated, then pulled a small, battered map from beneath the counter. "There's an old smuggler's tunnel beneath the Crescent District. It leads beyond the city walls—if you can get past the wards."

Kael took the map, studying the faded ink. The tunnel's entrance was marked with a crescent moon, just like the coin he'd been given by the Veilwalker. Fate, or something darker, was guiding his path.

A soft knock sounded at the back door—three quick raps, then silence. Kael's hand went to his sword. Ayesha shook her head and moved to open it.

A figure slipped inside: the masked Veilwalker woman. Her cloak was damp with mist, her silver mask glinting in the candlelight.

"You're running out of time," she said, voice urgent. "The Order's hunters are already in the district. You must leave—now."

Kael glanced at Rylan, then at Ayesha. "He's not strong enough to travel."

The Veilwalker's gaze softened. "There's no choice. I can lead you as far as the tunnel, but after that, you're on your own."

Ayesha pressed a pouch of herbs into Kael's hand. "For the pain. And for luck."

Kael squeezed her hand in thanks. "We'll come back. I promise."

Ayesha gave a small, sad smile. "Promises are easy in the dark, Kael. Harder at dawn."

With Rylan leaning on his shoulder, Kael followed the Veilwalker into the night. The city was eerily silent, the mist swallowing their footsteps. Shadows moved at the edge of vision—too many, too close.

They reached the Crescent District, its ancient arches looming overhead. The Veilwalker stopped at a cracked stone set with a faintly glowing crescent. She knelt, whispered a word, and the stone slid aside, revealing a narrow staircase plunging into darkness.

"This is where I leave you," she said. "Trust no one. Not even those who wear the same mask."

Kael nodded, leading Rylan down into the cold, damp tunnel. The stone closed above them, sealing out the city—and the light.

As they moved deeper, the air grew colder, thick with the scent of earth and old magic. The shards in Kael's pouch pulsed, guiding him forward. Shadows flickered on the walls, and Silas's voice echoed in his mind, softer now, almost mournful.

Every step takes you closer, little storm. But the price grows with every answer.

Kael pressed on, the weight of destiny and friendship heavy on his shoulders. Ahead, the tunnel curved, and a faint blue glow shimmered in the darkness.

Whatever waited beyond, Kael knew there was no turning back.