The cavern pulsed faintly as the Veil shifted in slow, swirling motions. Aeryn held his ground, mana coiled along his fingers like thin threads of starlight ready to ignite. Across from him stood Sereth—mask smooth as moonlit porcelain, carved with a crescent arc that slashed diagonally across where his left eye would be. His presence was unnervingly calm, too calm for someone wandering into a place of ancient roots and forbidden resonance.
Neither spoke at first.
The silence stretched tight.
The mist stirred around them.
Finally, Sereth broke the quiet. "You received something from her."
Aeryn kept his stance firm. "And? Why does that concern you?"
Sereth's head tilted slightly. "Because the Silver Veil never chooses carelessly. What it gives is never a blessing alone—it is the opening of a door. And every open door invites what should remain outside."
Aeryn's grip tightened. "You walked into this place without hesitation. That makes you no different."
Sereth chuckled softly beneath the mask. "You misunderstand me. I didn't walk into it. I was allowed."
Aeryn narrowed his eyes.
Allowed by what?
Or by whom?
Before he could ask, Sereth raised both hands slowly—an unthreatening gesture. "Do not mistake me for a foe. If I desired hostility, the Veil would've swallowed us both already."
The mist flickered, almost responding.
Aeryn remained silent. Observing. Measuring. Lytheriel's warning echoed through his mind: be wary of those who offer guidance with gentle smiles.
Sereth lacked a smile—but the same danger lingered behind his mask.
"Why are you here?" Aeryn asked.
Sereth's voice lowered. "To confirm whether rumor and instinct spoke truly. And they did."
He stepped closer.
Aeryn matched it with one step backward.
Sereth stopped, as if amused.
"You have something that shouldn't exist in this world," Sereth continued. "Something beyond ether, beyond cores, beyond bloodlines. Something older than all of Elyndor."
Aeryn felt heat gather behind his ribs—the System pulsing faintly.
Sereth lifted his gloved hand. "I do not intend to expose it. If I did, others would already know. But I will tell you this: the moment you touched the Silver Veil Core, the balance shifted."
Aeryn's jaw tightened. "Speak plainly."
Sereth leaned slightly forward. "Very well. The clans will come for you."
The cavern trembled faintly, as if reacting to the name.
Aeryn kept his voice steady. "What clans?"
"Highvale. Sunwrought. Mooncradle. Nyth Reaches. The four anchors of elven authority. The strongest bloodlines remaining in this age."
Aeryn's expression hardened.
Sereth continued. "They've long sought the remnants of the Silver Veil. Their seers failed to find it. Their archives misled them. But the moment you awakened its heart, the ancient wards cracked. The echoes are spreading."
Aeryn's pulse quickened. "Are they enemies?"
"That depends on how you define the word," Sereth replied. "Some will wish to… test you. Some will wish to keep you. Others will wish to silence you."
Aeryn's mana flared subtly. "And what do you want?"
"Simple." Sereth folded his arms. "To watch."
Aeryn blinked once. "Watch?"
"Yes."
"That's it?"
"For now."
He stepped into the drifting mist again, movements fluid like water folding around a stone.
"You stand at the beginning of something far larger than you can see. The System—your 'silent construct'—makes you unpredictable. Chaos in the eyes of beings who have grown too used to order. They will fear you."
Aeryn felt the weight in those words. And the cold truth behind them.
Sereth lowered his voice. "Fear always shapes fate. One way or another."
The System pulsed again in Aeryn's chest, as if aware of being discussed.
Aeryn steadied his breath. "If you have nothing else to say, leave."
A soft laugh escaped Sereth. "You speak boldly for someone who awakened mere days ago. Good. You'll need spine to survive what comes."
He took another step toward Aeryn—this time fast, too fast to track.
Aeryn flinched, mana rushing to his arm.
But Sereth simply touched Aeryn's shoulder lightly.
Not a threat.
A gesture.
Yet it sent a rush of unknown sensation flooding his senses, like a cold wind seizing his spine.
Aeryn recoiled instantly, hand raised with a blade of mana forming instinctively.
"What did you do?"
Sereth stepped back with elegant calm. "A mark. Nothing harmful. A thread of awareness—so I may find you when needed."
Aeryn bristled. "Remove it."
"I cannot," Sereth replied. "And neither can you. But it is not dangerous, not unless you make me your enemy."
The Veil mist stirred violently, reacting to the tension.
Aeryn inhaled sharply. "Why give me something like that?"
"Because, Aeryn Vaelorian," Sereth said softly, "you are a pivot point. A fracture in destiny. And something like that cannot be allowed to walk unobserved."
Aeryn grit his teeth. "You don't decide my path."
"No," Sereth agreed. "You do. But I will witness where it leads."
He lowered his hand. "And a final warning."
Aeryn waited.
Sereth's masked gaze locked onto him.
"Your clan will come for you soon."
Aeryn froze.
"My… clan?"
"Yes." Sereth tilted his head. "You were born to them. They claim blood ties. But they are not your home. And they are certainly not what they appear."
Before Aeryn could speak, the mist roared suddenly, swelling upward in spirals. The Veil reacted with a primal hum, pushing Sereth away in a swirl of silver.
Sereth's cloak fluttered violently.
"The Veil rejects prolonged presence from those who carry echoes," he said calmly, stepping backward into the mist. "My time is up."
He lifted a hand in a faint gesture.
"We will meet again, Aeryn."
With that, his form dissolved into swirling patterns, fading like shadow swallowed by dawn.
The cavern fell silent immediately.
The mist settled.
Aeryn exhaled slowly, tension draining with the cold air.
Silence.
Finally, he found a moment to breathe.
But only a moment.
The System activated.
Of course he couldn't remove it.
Of course it was tied to something far beyond his control.
He steadied his breath. Then he stepped toward the Silver Veil's exit, tracing his path back through the shimmering mist. The cavern's crystal roots dimmed behind him, their task complete.
As he neared the gate, the mist parted gently—almost as if bidding him farewell.
Once outside, the familiar tunnel of luminescent roots stretched upward. Aeryn made his ascent slowly, mind sharp and restless. Questions piled like stones in a riverbed.
Who exactly was Sereth?
What clan claimed him?
What enemies waited beyond the surface?
And why did Lytheriel speak with sorrow when she mentioned the System?
He reached the surface.
The Silverwood canopy above greeted him with its ever-glowing leaves. The air felt warmer, less suffocating. Yet the burden on his shoulders only grew.
He walked toward the clearing where the moonlight cut through the branches. His mana senses were sharper now—every shift of wind, every subtle wavering of ether resonated differently. The Veil Domain thrummed in his chest like a second heartbeat.
Then he noticed something.
Tracks.
Fresh.
Light footsteps, barely disturbing the soil, but unmistakably elven.
More than one pair.
Aeryn crouched, examining the indentations. The spacing. The weight.
At least six individuals. Traveling quickly. Searching for something.
Or someone.
Aeryn rose slowly.
Sereth's earlier words returned.
Your clan will come for you soon.
A rustle echoed through the Silverwood.
Aeryn immediately drew mana to his fingertips.
Soft voices followed—muffled but close.
"There—his presence is strongest here."
"He can't be far. Spread out."
Aeryn felt his pulse rise.
He stepped back, melting into the shadow of a root arch.
Through the dense foliage, he spotted them.
Six elves clad in pale silver armor etched with flowing runes. Their cloaks bore the crest of a branching sigil forming a spiral—distinct, ancient.
Their eyes glowed faintly with arcane detection arts.
They were elite.
And they were tracking him.
One paused, kneeling at the soil. "His scent is recent. Within moments."
Another stood tall, scanning the clearing. "The young heir must be retrieved before outsiders reach him."
Young heir?
Aeryn stiffened.
Was that… him?
The leader narrowed her eyes. "Fan out. The Silver Veil pulse originated from this region. He cannot hide from us."
They began to spread.
Aeryn's breath quieted. His mind sharpened. His instincts settled into cold focus.
He didn't know who these elves were.
He didn't know what they wanted.
But he understood one thing clearly.
He was not going with them.
Not until he knew the truth.
One of the scouts moved closest to his hiding place.
Aeryn tightened his grip.
The forest's hush deepened.
The scout stepped closer.
Closer.
Aeryn's mana pulsed.
The scout's eyes widened—
"There!"
Aeryn sprang from cover—silent, swift, mana trailing like silver blades through the air.
The chase began.
And the path toward truth opened violently, without warning, without mercy.