Kael stared at the crack in the Veil Gate. It now pulsed with an unstable yellow light, like the flickering glow of a torch on a stormy night, and the air around it was thick with palpable unease.
He felt a tingling down his spine, an emotion he knew all too well: fear. Not the pain of loss, nor the confusion of madness, but the primal terror that twists your stomach and paralyzes you.
It was the Veil of Fear, and Kael knew he would have to face his deepest nightmares.
Anya approached him, her gaze serious. "This Veil won't give you any reprieve, Kael. It will show you your greatest phobias, your worst nightmares. The Ash will try to immobilize you with terror. The key is not to run. Face what you see. Remember it's an illusion, however vivid. Your Dormant Fire is your source of courage. Let it guide you."
Lyra, on the other side, had her hands clenched, her silver eyes fixed on the vortex with intense concentration. "Fear is only an emotion, Kael. An illusion. It feels real, but it cannot harm you. You are the only one who gives it power. When you feel fear gripping you, breathe. Remember your mission. You are not alone."
As always, before facing a Veil of the Soul, Kael thought of his dream garden. The flame at its center was a robust hearth, the golden roots had spread, and the small green crystal gem pulsed with its own light. The tiny pale green sprout had grown slightly, now a small plant, a sign of life that fear could not extinguish.
This was his anchor.
He stepped into the vortex. The air sucked him in, but this time the sensation was sudden, viscous cold, like being wrapped in a sheet of icy web.
He felt his heart race, and his mind was flooded with a series of disturbing images and sounds in rapid succession: shadows stretching, sinister whispers, the sound of footsteps behind him, though no one was there.
His consciousness, though protected by the Extract of Deep Lucidity, was on high alert.
Kael found himself standing in a familiar yet distorted place. It was the old cemetery where his parents had been buried. The air was icy and thick with the nauseating smell of wet earth and rotting flowers. The tombstones leaned, some broken, and black wooden crosses looked like skeletal hands reaching toward the oppressive gray sky. The silence was crushing, interrupted only by the shrill sound of wind whistling through the bare branches of twisted trees. Everything was a shadow, every shadow a potential monster.
Kael moved slowly among the graves, his feet sinking into the soft earth. He searched for his parents' tombstones, but could not find them. Every time he thought he had located them, the image distorted, turning into a nameless tombstone or a pile of rubble.
He felt fear growing within him—the fear of not finding them, of being unable to protect his memories.
From the ground, figures began to emerge. They were not demons or empty shadows. They were his concrete fears: the shadow of a doctor shaking his head gravely, the voice of his uncle saying, "There's nothing more to be done," the gleam of surgical tools in a healing house room. They were his deepest anxieties, materialized to torture him. And among them, the most terrifying figure of all: Elara herself, but not as he remembered her.
She was pale, her face gaunt, her eyes empty, her body unconscious, like the first time he saw her after the illness. Her lips moved, but no sound came out, only a silent scream resonating in Kael's mind—a scream of pain and reproach.
Kael felt pure terror freeze his veins. His legs threatened to give way. He wanted to run, to escape those images, but there was nowhere to go.
Then, a figure appeared among the tombstones, wrapped in a cloak of pure darkness that seemed to swallow the faint light around it. Its eyes glowed a sinister red—not anger, but cold, calculated manipulation.
It was Solara, this time the most terrifying manifestation of her corruption, the Guardian of Fear.
"See, Keeper?" her voice, a cold whisper that penetrated Kael's mind, was full of mockery. "This is what you are. Weak. Helpless. Every action of yours is useless. You cannot save anyone. Your parents are lost. Elara is lost. And you... will be ash like them."
Solara reached out a hand. The figures of Kael's fears moved in unison, encircling him, their hands stretching to grasp him, and the lifeless face of Elara approached, her silent scream growing louder.
Kael felt panic rise in his throat.
But Anya and Lyra's words echoed in his mind: "Do not run. Face what you see. You are not alone." And the lessons about Dormant Fire, the pulsing green gem, the sprout beginning to grow.
Fear was an illusion.
His flame was real.
Kael closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. He felt the cold grip of fear tighten his heart, but at the same time, he felt the warmth of his Dormant Fire burning with a steady, resolute flame. It was a flame that illuminated.
He opened his eyes. The figures of his fears were still there, so real he could almost touch them. He looked at them, not with terror, but with determination.
He did not flee.
He focused on his Dormant Fire, letting its light spread inward, strengthening his core, making it impregnable to fear.
"No!" Kael shouted, his voice ringing loud and clear in the distorted cemetery. "I am not weak! And I am not helpless! This… this is only my fear! It is not reality!"
As Kael spoke, his golden flame slowly expanded with a steady, penetrating light. He did not try to make them vanish, but to dissipate the shadows that made them real.
The figures, struck by the light, began to falter. Their forms became more transparent, less threatening. Elara's lifeless face trembled, and for a moment, Kael saw through the illusion: it was only the shadow of a memory, not his true sister.
Solara roared, her voice a scream of frustration. "Inconceivable! You cannot resist your own fear! It will consume you!" Her form lunged at Kael, not with a physical attack, but with a wave of paralyzing cold seeking to extinguish his flame.
Kael did not step back. His Dormant Fire responded to Solara's attack with a wave of stable, reassuring warmth. There was no anger, only the certainty of his existence. Kael was not fighting the illusion.
He was passing through it.
"Fear is a shadow, Solara!" Kael shouted, his voice full of a new, calm strength. "And shadows vanish with light! You will not consume me, because I am my truth! And my truth is hope!"
As Kael spoke, the light of his Dormant Fire blazed, not in an explosion, but in a constant, unstoppable expansion. The distorted cemetery dissolved into a whirlwind of white, luminous petals floating in the air, smelling of pure, fresh vapor.
The shadows vanished completely, and the cold turned into a cool breeze.
Solara's figure dissolved with a cry of pain. Her words echoed faintly in Kael's mind. Hope… is a… poison… But her voice was weak, almost a whisper.
The environment changed again, but this time gently. The whirlwind of petals calmed, and Kael found himself in a gray mist, strangely comforting, smelling of warm tea and smoky wood. Silence was absolute—not frightening, but serene.
A voice, strangely calm and logical, like a thought Kael had tried to suppress for years, broke the silence.
The Shadow said, "What's the hurry, Kael? Your duty has only brought you pain. You have not defeated fear. You have only replaced it with fatigue. Another battle. Another sacrifice. You are tired, aren't you? Here, the mission doesn't matter. There are no failures."
Kael clenched his jaw, his hand trembling. It was not a threat, but a promise of rest.
"I must restore balance. I must finish the journey."
The Shadow replied, "Balance? An empty word. Look at what your 'duty' has brought you. You lost your parents. You are losing your sister, day by day. What makes you think this time will be different? Do you know what true balance is? It is giving up. Ending this vicious cycle of struggle and loss."
The Shadow did not show itself. Its voice was reduced to a persuasive whisper, the sound of his own thoughts. "If you let go, the mists will take away every unpleasant memory. You will feel no more weight. You can be free from the fear of losing those you love forever. Allow yourself to rest. No one will blame you for it."
Kael took a step, fighting the emotional truth resonating in the words. It was not fear, but exhaustion threatening to bend him.
He took another step, and the scene changed again.
No more mist.
Kael found himself in their small living room at home, warm, cozy, lit by the fireplace. His sister, Elara, sat in an armchair, reading—not pale and inert, but alive, her face full and healthy, her usual copper hair falling over her shoulders.
Elara looked up with a sweet, melancholy smile. "You're late, big brother. I was about to warm your bread. You know I hate it when you stress too much."
Kael froze. The relief he felt was a sweet poison, threatening to paralyze him. She was the sister he had fought to save, and now she was here, whole, smiling at him.
"Elara... you... you're not..."
Elara interrupted him. "Of course I am not. It's all over, Kael. The struggle is over. I am here, we are home. You don't have to go out there. That mission... it's an obsession that is destroying you. You are losing your life for an unreal idea."
"But you are in the Veil! I know you are in a coma in the real world! If I don't complete the mission..."
She stood and placed her hands on his cheeks, with an affection that pierced his heart. "And so? If I stay in a coma, and you stay here… wouldn't you be happier? Wouldn't you be at peace? Who will remember in a hundred years if balance was restored? Who will remember if Kael completed his 'duty'?"
Her voice dropped to a loving whisper.
Elara continued, "What I will remember is that you were a brother, that you fought, and that you chose to stop suffering. This is your only chance to no longer fear failure. If you leave, you will return to a life of pain. If you stay, we will have this. Please, Kael. Give up the mission and stay with me."
Tears threatened to fall from Kael's eyes. Fear could be pushed back with anger.
But love could not.
The image of Elara, so vivid, so full of consciousness she no longer had, was a physical and moral temptation.
Kael whispered, "I cannot... I promised. I must..."
"Promised whom? Yourself? You are worth more than your promise. If you truly love me, stay. Forget everything else, except this moment."
Elara held his hands. Kael felt the warmth and softness he had missed. For a moment, the idea of staying, letting the Veil wash away the memory of his crusade, was almost irresistible.
But deep within, where the Dormant Fire burned, Kael felt the truth: this was not his Elara. His Elara, even in a coma, would never ask him to give up what he believed in.
Kael pulled back, tears streaming down his face…
"No. This is not what you would want. You would want me to finish what I started. Love does not ask to flee the fear of failure. It asks for courage."
The warmth in Elara's hands faded. Her smile cracked. The living room scene began to tremble.
Elara's voice became distorted and frustrated. "Fool! You're always the same… choosing the burden over happiness!"
As she spoke, her form stretched, the illusion vanished, and the final wave of temptation was repelled by a roar of pure, desperate will.
Then, the environment shifted.
The whirlwind of petals cleared, revealing a different place.
Kael found himself standing on a dirt path, lit by warm golden light filtering through the leaves of ancient, majestic trees.
The air was pure, and Kael smelled the sweet scent of sap and moss. There was no fear. There was a sense of peace and growth.
Before him stood a massive centuries-old tree, its trunk powerful, branches reaching skyward, bark covered in bright green moss.
At the center of the trunk was a natural opening, glowing with emerald green light, a serene invitation.
It was the exit.
The Veil of Fear, with its songs of Oblivion, had been overcome.
Kael felt exhausted, but a deep calm enveloped him. Fear had not vanished forever, but now he knew he could face it. It no longer paralyzed him.
He found himself once again in the Deep Foundation, his body solid and grounded. Anya and Lyra rushed to him, their faces full of relief and profound admiration.
"You faced your fears," Lyra said, her eyes shining. "We felt your strength of spirit! You illuminated the shadows."
Anya grasped his arm, her gaze warm. "You showed incredible courage, Kael. Not only did you resist terror, but you rejected the greatest temptation: oblivion. This is the mark of a true Keeper."
Kael lifted his head. He felt light, despite the effort. His Dormant Fire was now a vivid and imposing flame, a true fire burning at the center of his chest, radiating warmth. In his dream garden, the flame had grown even more, and the golden roots had expanded, creating a dense network embracing almost all the barren ground.
The green gem was now larger, a small vibrant crystal. And the pale green sprout had become a small plant with its first leaves, a tangible sign of life sprouting.
Master Elian approached, his elderly face lit with deep hope. "You have overcome the Veil of Fear, Kael. Not only have you resisted the Ash, but you have also proven that hope is stronger than every terror and every lie. This is a rare power."
Kael stood, his gaze determined. He felt the end of this journey through the Veils approaching.
"Master," he said, his voice steady and filled with new awareness. "What is the next Veil?"
Elian looked at him, his face serious. "The next," he replied, pointing to the opening in the ancient tree, now emitting a deep dark blue light and an unsettling silence, "is the Veil of Isolation. There, you will face absolute solitude, the absence of all connection, the fear of being completely alone. It will be a test of emotional endurance. And she will always be there, waiting, ready to make you feel utterly abandoned."
Kael sighed. He looked up to the right, his gaze distant and fixed, as if reviewing scenes in his mind. Then he lowered his head, staring at the floor for a moment. He shook it slightly.
Solitude.
He had known it after Elara's illness, the feeling of being alone against the world.
But now he was not alone.
He looked at Anya, Lyra, Elian.
He had the Deep Foundation.
And he had his flame burning.
But was he truly ready to risk being alone with himself forever?
.
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