Darkness wrapped around Kaelen like a suffocating cloak. The chill was not just physical it gnawed at the edges of his mind, pulling at memories, emotions, fears long buried. Time seemed suspended. There was no sound, no wind, no ground beneath him. Just a vast, oppressive nothing.
Then light.
Not a natural light, but one that bled in from the edges of the void. Pale. Flickering. As if reality itself was being stitched together anew.
Kaelen gasped, stumbling forward. His boots met solid ground at last smooth stone, cold and pulsing with veins of faint silver. He looked around, squinting. A corridor stretched endlessly in both directions, carved of the same strange stone. On the walls, runes glowed dimly, shifting and morphing like they were alive.
Elyra appeared beside him, staggering but upright. Her eyes darted around, wide with wonder and fear. She gripped the hilt of her dagger tightly.
"Where... are we?" she whispered.
Kaelen turned slowly, heart pounding. "If that mirror was a window… I think we just stepped through it."
Before Elyra could respond, the corridor trembled. A low hum echoed through the walls, like something ancient had stirred. From one end of the hallway came a sound bare feet slapping against stone. Soft, rhythmic.
They turned. A figure emerged.
It was a child at least, it looked like one. Pale skin, eyes entirely black, with a thin silver thread running from the corner of each eye down to its chin like tears of mercury. The child stopped a few meters away and tilted its head.
"You shouldn't be here yet," it said. The voice was calm, androgynous neither threatening nor kind.
Elyra took a step forward. "Where is here?"
The child raised a hand and pointed to the shifting runes along the walls.
"This is the Path Between Worlds. A place for travelers... and trespassers."
Kaelen swallowed. "Which are we?"
The child smiled faintly. "That depends on what you do next."
It turned and walked away, vanishing into the shifting light.
Kaelen looked at Elyra. "Do we follow it?"
She didn't answer right away. But then she nodded, slowly. "It didn't seem hostile. And this corridor there's no other way."
They moved forward, cautious. As they walked, the corridor began to change. The walls rippled like fabric in the wind. Scenes flickered into view memories, dreams, possibilities. Kaelen saw flashes of his childhood: his sister's laughter, his mother's last breath. Then visions that weren't his. A city of silver towers under a red sky. A man with hollow eyes screaming in a language Kaelen didn't know but somehow understood.
"This place…" Elyra muttered, "It's alive. It's showing us things."
"Trying to confuse us?"
"Or test us."
Further down, they came to a door. Unlike the corridor, it looked tangible made of black wood with a sigil carved into it. Kaelen reached out to touch the sigil, and it flared to life beneath his fingers.
The door creaked open on its own.
Inside was a circular chamber. In the center, a pedestal. And on it a book.
Kaelen stepped inside. The air smelled of burnt parchment and iron. The book pulsed faintly, as though it had a heartbeat. Elyra circled the pedestal warily.
"This feels wrong."
"It also feels important," Kaelen replied.
He reached out and opened the book.
The pages turned on their own.
The language was old, older than Veil tongues, older even than the tongue of the Guardians. Yet Kaelen could read it.
"Those who pass into Semivis unbound shall leave parts of themselves behind. Memory. Name. Shape. Those who pass bound by truth and blood may yet retain form but not purpose."
Kaelen frowned. "It's a warning."
Elyra stepped closer, peering over his shoulder.
The next page shifted to a drawing: a map but not of any land they knew. Veins of silver rivers, forests shaped like spirals, mountains floating above islands.
Then something moved behind them.
Kaelen spun.
The child was back but now, its form flickered. It was no longer just a child. It shifted tall, skeletal, then shadowed and faceless, then back to its innocent shape.
"You read the book," it said. "That means you've chosen."
"Chosen what?" Elyra demanded.
The child pointed at Kaelen. "You are bound now. The Path has claimed you."
Kaelen staggered back. "What does that mean?"
"You cannot return unchanged. You've taken knowledge. It will change your form, your voice, your fate. Semivis will see you."
Elyra stepped in front of Kaelen. "Then tell us how to prepare. We didn't come for power. We're here to stop what's coming."
For the first time, the child frowned. "You speak of the Veil Collapse."
Kaelen nodded. "The barrier is breaking. We saw the cracks."
"The cracks were made," the child said sharply. "By one who once walked the Path."
Silence.
Elyra's voice was barely a whisper. "Who?"
The child turned. From its back, wings of black feathers erupted, dissolving into mist as they spread.
"The one you call Sereth."
Kaelen's heart dropped. "That's not possible. Sereth died before I was born."
"No. He passed through. He made a bargain. And now the echoes of that deal have begun to tear through your world."
Kaelen looked down at the book again. The text had changed.
"The one who walks twice must be stopped by one who carries no name."
He looked up. "What does that mean?"
But the child was gone.
The chamber trembled. The walls of the Path rippled violently.
Elyra grabbed his arm. "We need to move. Now."
As they ran back into the corridor, the scenes around them grew more violent. Battles. Fires. Shadows spilling from broken temples. Kaelen saw himself older, eyes glowing, standing in a field of ash.
The corridor narrowed. A doorway ahead blazed with white light.
They plunged through.
And found themselves
back in the library.
The candelabras had toppled. The cinder-lit glass of the shattered mirror was now cold, cracked fully across its center.
Kaelen fell to his knees, gasping. His reflection was back but it shimmered. Wrong, somehow.
Elyra dropped beside him. "You alright?"
He nodded slowly. But he didn't feel alright.
Something inside him had shifted.
He could feel it breathing.