Chapter 33: All alone

Nylessa Pov:

The passage whispered like a graveyard of forgotten names. I don't even remember when I stopped breathing.

This Veil was different.

Colder. Hungrier. Like it didn't want to kill us.

It wanted us to kill ourselves.

At first, I thought I was imagining things—just my nerves playing tricks again. But then I heard her voice. My mother's.

"You were supposed to protect me."

I froze. My boots felt like they were melting into the stone. The torchlight around us dimmed, like it too was afraid.

Clive moved ahead, stiff. Grimpel stopped completely, muttering to himself. Selvara looked like she was holding her body together by sheer will.

And Verrin?

That bastard didn't flinch. Not even a twitch. Eyes straight ahead like he couldn't hear it. Or like he already knew what we were hearing and just… didn't care.

I bit my tongue until I tasted copper. It didn't help.

"You let him die."

That one was my brother's voice.

My baby brother. I remembered the exact way his voice cracked when he used to sing. I remembered how small he looked the last time I saw him—on a cot in a burning street. Gods, I couldn't even remember his last words.

But now he had plenty to say.

"You watched. You didn't run fast enough. You didn't fight hard enough."

My legs felt like lead. I kept walking. Because stopping felt like drowning.

Each step dragged ghosts behind me. The air was thick—like trying to breathe through a wet cloth. Shadows danced at the corners of my eyes. And every time I turned to confront them, they vanished.

The thoughts started next.

You weren't enough. You were never enough. Look what you let them do. This is what failure looks like—you wear it like a cloak.

I didn't even know I was crying until the tears hit my collarbone.

My voice came out in a whisper, quiet and cracked.

"I'm sorry."

The Veil hissed back.

Sorry isn't enough.

I didn't argue. There was no point. I just kept moving—because whatever this was, it was trying to win. And it almost had me.

We stumbled into a chamber of black stone, jagged and dead. No torches. Just faint fungal light clinging to the walls like breath on glass.

We didn't group up. We broke apart.

Clive dropped to his knees, sword planted in the ground, shoulders shaking. Selvara clutched her arms like she was splitting from the inside. Grimpel—gods, he was whispering to something that wasn't there.

And I?

I heard my own voice speaking aloud, but I didn't feel my lips move.

"Jump. End it. You've failed them all. You failed him. You failed yourself."

My hand had gone to my blade.

It was half unsheathed.

Until I saw Selvara.

The gleam of her dagger. A blur of motion. Then—red.

A splash. A sound like wet silk tearing.

I screamed.

I don't even remember running.

One moment I was standing. The next, I was on my knees beside her, sliding through blood.

"No. No no no—Selvara!"

The cut—gods, the cut. Deep. A clean slash from belly to rib. Her tunic was soaked through in seconds. Her body already pale. Too pale. Too much blood. Too fast.

"Stay with me—come on, stay with me!"

My hands were glowing, my magic burning hot. I pressed down on the wound, forcing light into her, forcing everything I had left into her body.

Her breath hitched, and her eyes fluttered open—barely.

"You… said I was… a mistake," she whispered. Her voice was faint, cracked and wet with blood.

I winced. My throat seized.

"I was wrong," I whispered, leaning closer. "I was a coward. I didn't know how to understand you. I didn't try. That's on me. Not you."

She gave a half-laugh, half-gasp. "You always… thought I was something broken. Didn't you?"

"No. I told myself that," I said. "Because it was easier than accepting that you were real. That you felt things. That you—"

I choked.

"You trusted me, and I threw it away because I didn't want to feel guilty for hating something I couldn't explain."

My magic surged again, flaring bright and hot. The wound began to seal. Slowly. Reluctantly.

She groaned, fingers twitching. "Hurts…"

"I know. I'm sorry. I've got you."

"You really… believe that now? That I'm not a mistake?"

"I don't just believe it." My fingers trembled. "I know it. You're braver than me. You keep standing when the world tells you not to. You're more alive than half the people who ever tried to build you."

"You called me an echo."

"I was afraid."

Tears ran freely down my face. I didn't care.

"You were made, yes. But you chose to live. That makes you more than any of us. You've suffered things I'll never understand and still you followed us in here, into this hell. You didn't have to. But you did."

She coughed. It rattled in her chest. I pressed harder, pushing my magic deeper.

"I'm not letting you go," I whispered. "You hear me? I won't lose another person because I was too proud to say I was wrong."

"Nylessa…"

Her voice was soft, fading again.

"Tell me something," she murmured. "Anything. Something real."

I bent closer, forehead nearly touching hers. "When I was ten, I stole a vial of healing tonic and told my brother I made it myself with magic. He clapped so hard, he bruised his palms."

She blinked. Slow. "You lied?"

"I was so desperate to impress him. I just wanted him to think I was someone worth following."

"And now?"

"Now I'd give everything to go back and tell him the truth. To tell him it was okay to be ordinary. That he was always enough."

Her lips trembled. "Am I enough?"

My voice cracked again. "You always were."

Her fingers curled weakly around mine. The blood was slowing now, the wound knitting. I poured in another spell, and the light turned golden at the edges.

Behind me, I heard someone stir. Grimpel gasped like he was waking from a nightmare. Clive stumbled upright, shaking. Even Verrin turned, watching.

Of course he hadn't done anything. He wasn't under. He just stood there while we nearly destroyed ourselves.

I didn't care.

My focus was here.

"You're going to live," I said. "You have to. Because you're more than your origin. More than your scars."

"I'm… tired," Selvara whispered.

"I'll carry you," I said. "I'll carry you until we're out of this damned place."

The Veil pulsed once. One last thrum, like it was disappointed it hadn't broken us completely.

And then… silence.

Selvara blinked—just once.

And I cried.

The others gathered behind me. No one said a word. Just the soft shuffle of boots. The weight of breath returning.

But I didn't turn around.

I stayed beside her.

Because this time… I wasn't going to let anyone die.