AWAKENING BEYOND THE VEILS

When The Veil Trembles

The tremor didn’t stop at one.

It came again — stronger. Windows rattled. The ground beneath the academy split with faint, glowing lines, spiderwebbing across the courtyard stones. Students poured out of the dorms in panic, shouting, clutching each other as alarms blared through the air.

Kael stumbled, catching Lyra before she fell.

“What’s happening?” she shouted over the noise.

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. The same pulse that had come from the gate was now inside his chest, syncing with his heartbeat. It felt like the world itself was breathing with him — and he hated it.

The academy’s wards flickered. For a brief, terrifying second, the protective barrier that shimmered above the walls went completely dark.

Then it came — a sound that wasn’t thunder.

A deep, echoing roar that seemed to rise from under the ground.

Lyra’s hand tightened on his arm. “Kael, we need to get to Riven—”

But Kael was already moving.

In the council chamber, chaos reigned.

Books and crystal lenses tumbled from shelves as the floor shook again. Arcanists and sentinels rushed to stabilize the runes carved into the walls. The air stank of ozone and panic.

Riven stood at the center, face grim. His staff was driven deep into the floor, channels of light spreading from it like veins.

“Report!” he barked.

A sentinel answered, voice sharp with fear. “The breach beneath the east wing is widening, sir. Energy readings off the scale — it’s like the gate’s feeding on something!”

Riven’s jaw clenched. “It’s feeding on him,” he muttered.

Headmaster Rynor turned. “On who?”

Riven didn’t hesitate. “Kael Ardyn.”

Rynor’s eyes hardened. “Find him. Now.”

Kael and Lyra tore through the inner corridors, the walls flickering with unstable light.

Students fled in every direction, shouting, but Kael pushed past them. He knew where he had to go — back down to the gate.

“Kael, stop!” Lyra yelled, grabbing his wrist. “You said yourself it’s dangerous down there!”

“I don’t have a choice,” he said, breathless. “It’s calling for me. If I don’t answer it—”

“Then what? It breaks free?”

He didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. The fear in his eyes said enough.

Lyra stared at him, trembling, then released his hand. “Then I’m coming with you.”

Kael hesitated. “Lyra—”

“Don’t argue,” she snapped. “You’re not doing this alone.”

They ran.

By the time they reached the stairwell, the tremors had slowed — but the air down there had changed. It was heavy, dense, like breathing underwater. Faint whispers rippled through the dark, too soft to understand but close enough to feel.

Lyra swallowed hard. “That… isn’t wind.”

“No,” Kael said quietly. “It’s the gate.”

The steps ended, revealing the chamber once more — but now the First Gate was awake.

The fissure that had once been a thin crack was now a glowing wound, leaking light that pulsed like a heartbeat. The runes around it had twisted, no longer symbols of sealing, but of summoning. The same energy burned under Kael’s skin, answering in rhythm.

Lyra took a shaky step forward. “What is it doing?”

Kael stared, entranced and horrified. “It’s reaching for me.”

Above them, in the council tower, Riven felt the surge. His staff shuddered in his hand, and a ring of black fire flared around its tip.

“Found him,” he whispered.

He turned to Rynor. “Keep the wards stable. I’ll bring him back—or end this myself.”

Rynor grabbed his arm. “If that gate opens, even you won’t stop it.”

Riven’s expression darkened. “Then pray it doesn’t open.”

Back in the chamber, the light flared violently. Kael staggered backward, clutching his chest. The pendant around his neck had come alive, glowing brighter than before.

“Kael!” Lyra grabbed him, panic rising. “Talk to me!”

He gasped, barely hearing her. Voices filled his head — too many, overlapping.

He carries the flame.

He is the spark reborn.

The vessel returns.

Each word burned through his skull, and yet… buried under them, he heard another voice. Softer. Familiar.

Kael.

His mother’s voice.

He looked toward the gate, vision swimming. The shape inside the light was clearer now — a figure standing in the breach, wings of fire and shadow unfolding slowly.

Lyra followed his gaze. “Kael… what is that?”

He couldn’t answer. He stepped forward without realizing, drawn like gravity itself was pulling him.

The figure reached out a hand.

You opened the first door, the voice whispered. Now open the rest.

Kael’s body trembled. “Who are you?”

The figure smiled — not cruelly, but sorrowfully.

You already know.

The pendant in Kael’s hand split open, revealing a black crystal within. Energy surged, wild and blinding.

Lyra screamed, shielding her eyes. “Kael, stop!”

But Kael wasn’t in control anymore. His body moved on instinct, the Shadowfire rising around him in spiraling flames of violet and black. The air screamed, the ground cracked.

And then — another voice cut through the chaos.

“Enough!”

A blast of wind tore through the chamber. Riven landed between them, his staff blazing with light. The energy shattered like glass, forcing Kael back.

The glow around him dimmed, flickering.

Kael gasped for breath, eyes wide. “Riven—”

Riven didn’t look at him. His gaze stayed fixed on the gate. “You were supposed to stay away.”

“I tried,” Kael whispered. “But it called—”

“I know what it does,” Riven snapped. “And it never calls without purpose.”

The ground shuddered again, cracks widening toward the edges of the room. The gate pulsed once more, and this time, the light spilled outward in living tendrils.

Lyra cried out as one tendril shot toward her — but Kael moved faster. He threw himself in front of her, the Shadowfire bursting out of him like instinct. The dark flame met the gate’s light, clashing violently.

The impact threw everyone back.

Stone shattered. Air warped.

Kael hit the ground hard, vision going white for a moment. When he looked up, the gate was dim again — but the light was no longer leaking.

It had stabilized.

Riven lowered his staff slowly. “You sealed it.”

Kael blinked. “I… what?”

Riven turned to him, eyes narrowed. “You didn’t destroy it. You connected to it. The gate recognized your flame.”

Lyra knelt beside Kael, still shaking. “What does that mean?”

Riven’s voice was grim. “It means he’s no longer just a student. He’s part of the seal itself.”

Kael froze. “You’re saying—”

“I’m saying,” Riven interrupted, “that if this gate falls again… you fall with it.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Lyra’s voice was barely a whisper. “There has to be another way.”

“There isn’t,” Riven said. His tone softened, almost regretful. “The flame chose him long before we did.”

He turned toward the stairs, cloak sweeping through the dust. “We’ll inform the council at dawn. For now, keep him away from the lower halls.”

Kael’s voice cracked. “What if it calls again?”

Riven paused in the doorway, not looking back.

“Then, Kael Ardyn,” he said quietly, “you better learn to answer without losing yourself.”

When they were alone, Lyra turned to him. Her eyes glistened in the dim light.

“Kael… what did it show you?”

He stared at the cracked floor, his heartbeat still echoing with that same ancient rhythm. “A woman. I think… I think she was my mother. But she wasn’t just her anymore. She was part of the gate.”

Lyra swallowed. “You think she’s alive?”

Kael’s jaw tightened. “I think she’s trapped.”

They both looked toward the dormant gate. The faint light within it pulsed once, slow and steady — like something breathing in its sleep.

Kael whispered, “And I think she wants me to finish what she started.”