The Vail of Ashenfall

The descent from Emberpeak was slow, the mountain paths slick with ice and half-buried under fresh snow. Eryndor led the way, his eyes scanning the jagged cliffs for any signs of movement. The relic in his pack pulsed faintly, a quiet reminder of the warden's final warning.

Kaelith followed closely behind, her boots crunching softly in the snow. She adjusted her cloak, shivering. "I swear the cold's getting worse. Either that or I'm just losing feeling in my toes."

Eryndor smirked faintly but didn't respond. His focus was elsewhere—on the relic's pull. Something in the air felt wrong.

Kaelith seemed to notice his silence. "You've been quiet since we left the fortress. I'm guessing the warden's little prophecy is still bothering you?"

Eryndor kept his eyes forward. "It wasn't a prophecy. It was a warning."

Kaelith scoffed. "Same thing. Either way, I'm not thrilled about any dragon waking up." She paused, stepping over a fallen branch. "But let's be honest. When's the last time anything we did went smoothly?"

"That's not the point," Eryndor replied. His cursed arm pulsed faintly beneath his sleeve. "The veil is weakening faster than I expected. If the warden was right, we're running out of time to stop whatever's coming."

Kaelith raised an eyebrow. "You think someone's trying to break the veil?"

Eryndor frowned. "I don't know. But these relics were hidden for a reason. Someone—"

Crack.

Eryndor froze mid-step.

Kaelith's hand immediately went to her dagger. "You heard that too, right?"

Eryndor's gaze flicked to the treeline ahead. The faint crunch of footsteps echoed through the snow, slow and deliberate.

Kaelith shifted closer, lowering her voice. "Please tell me it's not another armored warden."

"No," Eryndor said grimly, eyes narrowing. "Something else."

The wind carried the faint scent of iron—blood.

Eryndor drew his sword, the blade humming softly with blue fire. The shadows between the trees shifted, but no figure appeared.

Kaelith scanned the area nervously. "I don't see anything."

"That's the problem," Eryndor muttered.

The footsteps stopped.

For a long moment, the mountain remained deathly silent, save for the soft whistle of the wind through the branches.

Then—a blur of black moved.

Eryndor barely had time to react. A shadow lunged from the treeline, claws slicing toward his throat. He raised his blade instinctively, the clash of steel and shadow ringing through the clearing.

The creature hissed, its form flickering—half-solid, half-smoke. Its eyes glowed faintly, like burning coals.

Kaelith darted around the creature's side, striking with her dagger. The blade passed through the shadow, but the creature recoiled, snarling.

"It's like those things from Ashenfall!" Kaelith shouted, slashing again.

Eryndor twisted his sword, the blue fire burning brighter along the blade's edge. "It's stronger."

The creature lunged again, faster this time. Eryndor met it head-on, driving his sword deep into its chest. The blue flames erupted outward, consuming the shadow's form. The creature let out a distorted wail before collapsing into ash.

Kaelith exhaled sharply, lowering her dagger. "Alright… that wasn't fun."

Eryndor knelt beside the ashes, his eyes narrowing. "This wasn't random."

Kaelith raised a brow. "You think it was waiting for us?"

Eryndor nodded. "It wasn't hunting. It was watching."

Kaelith frowned, shifting uncomfortably. "Well, that's unsettling."

Eryndor rose, tightening his grip on the sword. "Whoever sent it knows we have the relic. And they won't stop with just one."

Kaelith glanced back toward the distant fortress. "So what now? Keep heading north?"

Eryndor's cursed arm pulsed faintly. The fire flickered along his veins, pointing him toward the next relic—somewhere beyond the mountains.

"Yes," he said quietly. "But we stay off the main roads."

Kaelith arched an eyebrow. "Avoiding trouble, are we?"

Eryndor smirked faintly. "For once."

The snow-covered path stretched ahead, winding deeper into the mountains. As the two disappeared into the fading light, the shadows along the ridgeline shifted once more.

High above, a figure watched silently, cloaked in mist.

Their eyes burned with crimson light, and in their palm… a relic of their own pulsed with dark energy.