The storm had passed, but the sky remained bruised.
Caelan walked alone through the skeletal remains of the battlefield—though no corpses lay there. Only threads. Stray, twitching strands of dead Weave coiled through the cracked ground like veins without blood. Each one pulsed faintly when he neared, as if recognizing something in him.
The Ashweave answered with silence.
Not rejection. Not warmth. Just… silence. Like a weapon sheathed and waiting.
He knelt, running his fingers across a frayed thread.
It twitched.
‹ Eclipsed Veil › — Soulstate Detected
Thread is corrupted. Do not bond.Foreign resonance: Unmade Signature — Dormant.
Caelan pulled his hand back sharply, heart hammering.
Unmade.
The word echoed in his mind like a curse.
Is that what that heir was? A vessel for something unmade?
The Dusklands had always been cursed in the stories. A dead place, burned by old wars and ashfall. But this wasn't just dead land.
It was a graveyard of forgotten Threads.
And something was waking.
A sudden gust of wind scattered dust into the air, and beneath it—half-buried in the black soil—he saw it.
A door.
No, not a door. A seal, made of petrified bone and etched in spiraling glyphs that hurt to look at. Not Weavecraft. Older. Deeper.
Words tried to form in his mind, but they weren't his. They came from the seal, pressing into his thoughts like cold fingers behind his eyes.
Born of echo, sealed by flame.Bound beneath the blood of seven.He who breaks the Veil breaks the world.
Caelan stumbled back.
Whatever was buried here… it was meant to stay buried.
But the seal was cracked.
A hairline fracture, pulsing faintly with ash-colored light.
Is this why I was drawn here?Did the Weave pull me to this place… or did something else?
He turned to leave. He should've left.
But the earth trembled once, low and guttural.
Then a voice.
Soft. Old. Everywhere.
"It begins again…"
Caelan froze. The Ashweave flared around his wrists, protective, reacting.
His shadow moved.
He spun—nothing.
But when he looked down again, he saw it clearly.
There were two shadows.
‹ Eclipsed Veil › — Surge Detected
Thread Control — +1Resonance — +1Trait Shift Detected: Instinctive Echo → Echo Divergence (Locked)
Caelan backed away slowly.
Whatever this place was, it was older than the Eclipse. Older than the Weave. And it knew his name.
He turned and ran, not from fear—though there was plenty of that—but from instinct. That same voice inside that had screamed at him when the heir reached for his soul. The same voice that whispered in fire:
Not yet. Not here. Not ready.
He didn't stop running until he saw the edge of the trees—dead, pale things like skeletal fingers—fade into a misted rise of stone and fog. The Dusklands behind him. A crumbling ridge ahead.
He crested the rise, and saw lights.
Torchlight.
A camp.
Smoke.
And… voices.
People.
But not just any people.
A white banner fluttered above the camp, marked by a jagged black eclipse. Not a symbol of prophecy.
A warning.
His blood froze.
Eclipse Hunters.
He ducked low.
These weren't mercenaries. They moved in disciplined lines, wore identical cloaks, and carried Weave-inscribed blades strapped to their backs. Their faces were cold, eyes unnaturally still.
At the center of the camp stood a figure cloaked in gold-trimmed robes. Not armor. Not a warrior.
A Seer.
And they were staring directly at where Caelan hid, beyond the ridge.
Not seeing him—but feeling him.
Their lips moved.
"The Ashborn awakens."
‹ Eclipsed Veil ›
Strength — 17Willpower — 21Perception — 20Intelligence — 15Charm — 5Thread Control — 33Resonance — 22Resilience — 17
Compatibility: Ashweave — MasteredSoul Fracture: Type I — [Loss of Anchor]
New Entry: Echo of the Unmade (Suppressed)New Entry: Forgotten Seal — FracturedNew Entry: Eclipse Hunters SpottedStatus: Veil Surging
Veil may be accessed at will.
Caelan lowered beneath the ridge, breath held tight in his chest.
He wasn't ready for war.
But the world no longer cared.
It had found him.
And the storm hadn't ended.
It had just begun.