The fall felt endless.
Light swallowed everything, every sound, every shape, every memory until Liora couldn't tell if she was falling through air or sinking into water. Her limbs felt light, her heart pounding too fast, too hard. She tried to scream, but the sound stayed trapped inside her, lost in the golden flood.
Then, with a sudden shock, the world snapped back like a scream bursting through silence. Light slammed into her eyes, sound roared in her ears, and every nerve lit up with pain and confusion. Her breath caught as cold air filled her lungs, sharp and unfamiliar.
She hit the ground hard, the air knocked out of her. For a moment she just lay there, gasping, staring at a sky that wasn't really a sky. It was endless and gray, filled with mist and streaks of faint red lightning.
All around her was emptiness.
Ash crunched under her hands as she pushed herself up. The ground was black and cracked, with sharp rocks like broken teeth. The trees were just burned wretched, their branches twisted like claws reaching for the heavy clouds. A cold wind blew across the land, carrying the smell of burned flesh and the faint sound of someone crying far away.
Liora hugged herself, shivering.
She was alone.
"Tomas?" she croaked, her voice dry and rough. "Grandmother?"
Only the wind answered.
Fear rose in her chest, wild and sharp. She stumbled forward, every step kicking up clouds of ash. The ring on her finger was cracked and dark, pulsing faintly like a dying heartbeat. She placed her hand over her chest, trying to calm herself.
"You are the key," she remembered her grandmother saying. "You are the word."
But the gate was broken, the sigil destroyed, and everything she had known was gone.
"Where am I?" she thought, holding back tears, the weight of isolation pressing down on her chest like a stone. The world around her felt alien, the desolation suffocating. She had known belonging, warmth, love but now, it was as if all of that had vanished in an instant. Her heart ached with the emptiness, each breath a reminder that she was utterly alone in a place that didn't seem to care.
Ahead, a soft light glowed through the mist.
She hesitated only a second before moving toward it. The ash beneath her feet crunched louder than it should have, like something beneath was listening.
The light became a figure.
At first, she thought it might be Tomas, tall,brave, waiting for her. Hope swelled in her chest then died.
It wasn't Tomas.
It was Alwen.
But not the Alwen Liora had just seen. This one was see through, her form flickering like smoke in a wind Liora couldn't feel. Her face looked young and old at the same time, and her eyes were full of sorrow.
"Liora," she whispered.
Liora stepped closer. "What is this place? What happened?"
Alwen opened her mouth, but no words came out. She lifted her hand and pointed.
Far away, past the dead trees, stood a gate or what was left of one. It had once been grand, but now it leaned crooked under the gray sky, its stones burned and cracked. Huge chains hung in broken loops, and the ground before it was split open, showing a darkness that seemed to breathe.
Liora's stomach twisted.
"This is the boundary," she said softly, feeling the truth. "The edge of the Veil."
Alwen nodded.
"But the gate's broken," Liora whispered. "I failed."
Alwen's image flickered, pain showing on her face. She stepped forward and touched Liora's cheek, not warm, but cold. The chill sank deep into Liora's bones.
"You are not broken," a voice said not aloud, but inside Liora's mind. Alwen's voice. "You were never meant to seal the old gate. You are meant to build the new."
Liora gasped and stepped back, her heart racing.
"How?" she whispered. "I don't know how."
The mist thickened, and for a terrible second, she thought she saw shapes moving inside it, things crawling and slithering just out of view, too strange to understand.
Alwen's expression grew even more serious. She pointed, this time at Liora's chest, her finger trembling slightly as if the weight of her words was too much to bear.
The ring, the broken ring.
It pulsed faintly, like a dying star.
Liora looked at it, her heart heavy.
"How can I build anything with something broken?" Liora cried, her voice raw and trembling with despair. Her hand shook as it gripped the fractured ring, the symbol of everything she had lost and failed to protect. Her chest tightened with a sorrow so deep, it felt like it could swallow her whole. Every ounce of her hope seemed to slip away, leaving only a hollow ache where strength once lived.
"Not broken," the voice said. "Changed."
Alwen began to fade, her body breaking into smoke. Panic filled Liora.
"Don't leave me," she begged, reaching out.
But Alwen was already gone, lost in the mist.
Liora was alone again.
She turned toward the gate. Her legs shook, but she forced herself forward, step by step. The mist tugged at her, whispering cruel things in voices that sounded like the villagers, her mother, and her grandmother.
"You are nothing. You will fail. You are the end."
She bit her lip until she tasted blood. She refused to listen.
As she neared the broken gate, the air grew colder, heavier. Breathing became hard. The crack in the ground yawned wider, and the smell coming from it made her eyes water. She looked down and saw movement.
Something was waking, something old and it knew she was there.
She stepped back, heart racing, her instincts screaming to run but there was nowhere to go. Only the dead land behind her.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed her wrist from the mist.
She screamed and struck out then stopped.
It was Tomas.
His face was pale, his eyes wild but alive.
"Liora!" he shouted. "You have to move! Now!"
Behind him, her grandmother staggered into view, one hand over a wound bleeding through her clothes.
"How" Liora started, but Tomas shook his head.
"No time. It's coming!"
A roar tore through the air, deep enough to shake the ground.
The darkness in the crack shifted and rose.
Her grandmother grabbed Liora's other hand. Her grip was strong.
"Listen to me, child," she said firmly. "You have to close it. Only you."
"I don't know how!" Liora cried.
"Yes, you do," her grandmother said. "You have to give it a new name."
Liora's thoughts raced.
The old gate was made of fear. It locked things away. But this one it had to be differental and Stronger.
Hope. Love. Memory.
Tears filled her eyes. She thought of her mother's laughter. Tomas's loyalty. Her grandmother's fierce love. Alwen's deep sadness.
She thought of Elderwood the way morning sunlight lit up the fields like gold, the smell of baking bread, the laughter of children, the songs sung around fires. Every little joy and pain, every moment, burned brighter than fear. That was what she was fighting for.
She thought of life. The gentle routines. The way morning light touched the earth. The smell of fresh bread. The joy of laughter and song. These things had filled her world once, sewn together like a warm quilt she hadn't known she'd miss. And now, with the Veil pressing in, those memories were lifelines.
And she spoke one word. Not an ending,
a beginning.
The ring on her finger burst into light, gold pouring from its cracks. It spread over her skin, rising up her arms, forming glowing runes and symbols.
The ground shook, darkness screamed.
The gate began to rebuild stone meeting stone, chains wrapping into place like they were alive.
The mist shrank back, hissing, shapes screamed and fled.
Dark fingers tried to grab her, but Tomas and her grandmother stood firm, swords drawn, protecting her.
Liora stepped forward, magic flowing from her like a wave.
She placed her hand on the center of the arch.
The stone pulled the magic in eagerly.
And the gate shined.
The crack in the ground sealed with a huge boom.
The mist vanished. Silence fell.
Liora fell back, gasping, the light leaving her body.
The gate stood whole again, glowing warm and gold.
Tomas caught her as she collapsed.
"You did it," he breathed.
Her grandmother knelt beside them, tears running down her face. Her hands shook as they hovered over the broken ring and burned ground. Her voice was full of awe and sadness.
"You truly are of the First Flame," she whispered, like the words might break. The glowing sigil reflected in her eyes, mixed with grief and pride. She reached for Liora but stopped short, afraid to touch something so powerful, so fated.
"Forgive us," she said, voice cracking. "We never deserved you."
Liora tried to smile, but she was too tired.
Her last thought before she blacked out was of Alwen's face and her warning:
It's not over.
Even though the gate now stood whole behind them, deep beneath the ground, something ancient had begun to stir again.
And it was waiting.