The black sands burned under Kael's boots, stretching endlessly toward the horizon. Above, the Great Veil loomed, its obsidian surface crackling with ghostly faces, their hollow eyes glowing white. The single star he'd sworn to reach pierced its edge, a faint hope in the dark. The Living Veil Sea growled behind him, black waves spitting red embers that hissed as they died. Kael's scarred arm throbbed, embered veins pulsing orange, the memory of his first Veilspawn kill still fresh. He adjusted his tattered red scarf, his sleeveless shirt clinging to sweat-soaked skin, and fixed his glowing orange eyes on the strange glow ahead—a steady orange light, warm, alive.

"Keep moving," Kael growled, his voice rough. Mira's hollow eyes flashed in his mind, her laughter silenced by the Veil's curse. His chest tightened, but he forced a wild grin. "I'll fix this, Mira. I swear."

The Veil's whispers clawed at him. Turn back, child of ember... You'll bring ruin... Kael shook his head, but they grew louder, a storm of ghosts. She's gone... Burn, and we'll feast... The Veil pulsed, faces pressing closer, mouths screaming silently. Kael's flames surged uncontrollably, his arm blazing, the heat searing his skin. He gasped, clutching his wrist, the phoenix scar on his chest glowing like a sun. "Shut up!" he roared, slamming his fist down. A fiery spiral erupted, scorching the sand into glass, the whispers hissing as they retreated.

Kael panted, forcing the flames down, his arm trembling. The glow was closer now, flickering through the dunes. He climbed a jagged crest, sand cascading around him, and froze. The sea surged, a wave splitting to reveal three Veilspawn—writhing black tendrils, red ember eyes glowing with malice. "More of you?" Kael's grin widened, fists raised, flames flaring. But the whispers returned, a cacophony showing visions—Mira's hollow eyes, Gray Town in flames, his body consumed by the Veil.

"Get out!" Kael shouted, unleashing a torrent of phoenix flames. The fire slammed into one Veilspawn, its shrieks echoing as it burned, but the others grew larger, feeding on the heat. Kael's grin faltered, his breath ragged. He couldn't control it—the flames, the whispers, the Veil. He was losing.

A sharp crack rang out, a flash of blue-white light striking the second Veilspawn. It screeched, collapsing into black water as an obsidian shard, glowing with fiery runes, hit its core. Kael turned, flames dimming. The orange glow was right behind him—a young woman with tousled brown hair, sharp green eyes, and a leather coat stood atop a dune, another shard in hand. "Down!" she barked, hurling it at the third Veilspawn. The creature dissolved, whispers fading. "Who are you?" Kael rasped, exhaustion hitting hard. The woman slid down the dune, her satchel bouncing, and studied his embered veins, then the Veil.

"Elara," she said, her tone sharp but steady. "And you're either brave or stupid. Which is it?" She extended a hand, her green eyes glinting.

Kael's grin returned, a spark of hope igniting. "Let's find out," he said, taking her hand. The star shone brighter, and with Elara beside him, it felt closer.