Aelria fell.
There was no wind, no sound, no sense of time—only colors bleeding into each other, memories whispering like echoes in a canyon. Her body felt weightless, suspended in the boundary between reality and what existed beyond it. This wasn't just the Veil—it was the heart of it. The source of its magic. Its madness. Its sorrow.
When she landed, it was not with a crash but a quiet step onto mirrored ground. Aelria stood in a place that defied logic: an endless sky of stars above her, yet a reflection of the same sky beneath her feet. Light shimmered in shards, as though the world had cracked and reformed a thousand times.
She was alone.
Until she wasn't.
A soft hum stirred the stillness, and from the shimmering horizon walked a version of herself—barefoot, glowing faintly, with eyes full of ancient knowing.
"Who are you?" Aelria asked.
The other smiled. "The you that could have been. Or perhaps… the one you were always meant to become."
Aelria's breath caught. "Am I dead?"
"No," the reflection said, stepping closer. "You're in between. And you must decide who you'll be when you step out again."
As the reflection raised her hand, memories flared around them—visions from Aelria's journey: her awakening in Moonspire, the first time she felt Kalien's presence near hers in the cavern of lost stars, the Mirror King's betrayal and redemption, the fragments of her soul piecing together.
The Veil was showing her herself.
"What do you want me to do?" Aelria whispered.
The reflection tilted her head. "Not what I want. What you must choose. The shards are within you now, each pulsing with a different truth. But the Veil has always been more than power—it's purpose. And it needs an Anchor."
Aelria's voice trembled. "But if I accept it, if I bind myself to the Veil… will I ever come back?"
Silence.
Then came another voice, distant but clear, cutting through the weight of thought like a blade through silk.
Kalien.
She could hear him, faintly, calling her name. Begging her to return. His voice cracked with emotion—something he rarely showed.
Aelria looked down at her hands. The magic within her shimmered silver and violet, the essence of stars and memory. It wasn't meant to imprison. It was meant to guide.
She turned to her reflection. "I won't become the Veil. I'll reshape it."
The reflection smiled. "Then you are ready."
Light poured from the mirrored ground, engulfing her, lifting her into the stars above.
In the physical world, Kalien knelt by the rift, his hand hovering just above the swirling surface. Behind him, Riven and the Mirror King stood silent, watching.
Then the rift pulsed.
A heartbeat. A breath.
Aelria burst forth from the Veil, collapsing into Kalien's arms. Her body glowed, her veins laced with constellations, her eyes slowly opening—silver-gold, filled with power, purpose… and pain.
"You came back," Kalien whispered.
Aelria managed a smile. "You called me."
Tears gathered in his eyes, but he masked them behind a soft laugh. "Of course I did. Someone has to keep you tethered to this realm."
She placed her palm on his cheek, and the light from her skin danced across his face. "It's not over yet."
"No," he said, steady now. "But it's your turn to lead."
The Mirror King bowed from the shadows. "The final trial begins. And this time, the Veil is listening."