The Fractured Ascendant

The wraiths closed in, their twisted forms moving with an unnatural grace that sent chills down Kael's spine. Their glowing green eyes locked onto him, drawn by the energy pulsing from the Veil mark on his hand.

"Focus," Varyn barked, his voice cutting through the thick mist. "Let the power flow, but don't lose yourself to it. You'll need every bit of strength to survive."

Kael gritted his teeth, his heart pounding as he felt the Veil's energy surging through him. The mark on his hand flared, a crimson light cutting through the gloom. He had no weapon, no armor—only this strange power that he barely understood.

The first wraith lunged, its clawed hand slicing through the air with a sound like tearing fabric. Kael instinctively sidestepped, the motion awkward but effective. His pulse quickened as he swung his fist, guided by the energy coursing through him. The blow landed with an impact that surprised even him, sending the creature staggering back.

"Not bad," Varyn muttered, his blade flashing as he cleaved another wraith in two. The creature dissolved into a haze of green mist, its death echoing in a faint, hollow wail. "But don't get cocky. These things hunt in packs."

Kael barely had time to register the warning before another wraith attacked, its claws raking across his side. Pain flared, but it was muted, as if the Veil's energy dulled the sensation. He retaliated with a wild punch, the crimson glow of his mark intensifying as his fist connected.

The wraith disintegrated, and for a brief moment, Kael felt a surge of exhilaration. But it was short-lived. The mark burned hotter, and a wave of dizziness swept over him.

"Careful!" Varyn shouted, stepping between Kael and another attacker. "The Veil takes as much as it gives. Control it, or it'll consume you."

Kael stumbled back, struggling to steady his breathing. The remaining wraiths circled them, their movements cautious but relentless. Varyn moved with practiced precision, his blade carving through the mist as he dispatched the creatures one by one.

Kael's vision blurred as the burning sensation in his hand intensified. He could feel the Veil's energy pulling at him, demanding more.

"Focus, damn it!" Varyn snapped, cutting down the last of the wraiths. "If you lose yourself now, you'll be no better than them."

Kael clenched his fists, forcing himself to take slow, measured breaths. Gradually, the burning subsided, and the crimson glow dimmed.

"Good," Varyn said, lowering his blade. "You're learning."

Kael sank to his knees, the weight of exhaustion crashing down on him. His body ached, his mind reeled, but he was alive.

"What... were those things?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Wraiths," Varyn replied, wiping his blade clean. "Souls twisted by the Veil. They're what happens when you give too much to the power without control. And they're always hungry for more."

Kael shuddered, the memory of their hollow eyes seared into his mind.

"Why are they after me?"

"Because you're a Bearer," Varyn said. "The Veil's power calls to them. As long as you carry that mark, you'll never be safe."

Kael stared at the crimson sigil on his hand, a sinking feeling settling in his chest.

They returned to the campfire, though its warmth felt feeble against the chill that had seeped into Kael's bones. Varyn sat across from him, his expression unreadable.

"You've got potential," the older man said. "But raw power isn't enough. If you want to survive, you'll need to learn discipline. Control."

Kael looked up, his exhaustion giving way to determination. "Then teach me."

Varyn raised an eyebrow. "You're sure about that? The path you're on... it doesn't lead anywhere pleasant."

"I don't have a choice," Kael said, his voice steady. "If I don't learn to control this, I'll end up like those things."

Varyn studied him for a moment, then nodded. "All right. But know this: the Riftlands don't forgive mistakes. If you falter, even for a moment, they'll devour you."

Kael swallowed hard, the weight of the warning sinking in.

The next few days were a blur of grueling training. Varyn pushed Kael to his limits, forcing him to confront the Veil's power head-on. They practiced drawing mana from the stones, channeling it into controlled bursts without letting it overwhelm him.

"Feel the flow," Varyn instructed, his tone sharp. "Don't fight it, but don't let it take over, either. Balance is everything."

Kael's progress was slow at first, the energy wild and unruly. But gradually, he began to grasp the fundamentals. He could feel the power responding to his will, no longer just a chaotic force but something he could shape and direct.

By the third day, he could summon the Veil's energy without the mark flaring out of control. It was a small victory, but one that filled him with cautious hope.

"You're getting there," Varyn said, nodding approvingly. "But don't get comfortable. This is just the beginning."

One night, as they sat by the fire, Kael broke the silence.

"What about you?" he asked. "How did you end up here?"

Varyn's expression darkened, his gaze fixed on the flames. "That's a story for another time."

Kael frowned but didn't press. There was a heaviness in Varyn's voice that told him the subject wasn't open for discussion.

Instead, he turned his thoughts inward, reflecting on everything he had learned—and everything he still didn't understand.

The Riftlands were a hostile, unforgiving place, and the Veil's power was both a blessing and a curse. But Kael was determined. He would master this power, no matter the cost.

As he stared into the fire, a new resolve took root in his heart. He didn't know what lay ahead, but he wouldn't face it unprepared.