Prologue – When the Veil Burned In the age before memory... The Veil wasn't torn by war. It was torn by love. Liraeth, a Veilborn with god-scorched eyes, stood on the edge of the world, her lips stained with blood and prophecy. The gods circled above her like vultures, demanding her surrender. But she didn't kneel. She never had. "They say love is sacred," she whispered, raising the Heart Relic to the sky. "But you would murder me for it." The Seer of Bones snarled. "He is mortal. He will die. And you will break the realms for nothing." Liraeth smiled-a cruel, beautiful thing. "Then let them break." And she drove the relic through the Veil. The scream that followed was not hers. Realms collapsed. Magic rioted. Spirits rose from their graves. And far below, a man with silver-shadowed eyes watched as the woman he loved shattered the world to save him. Her final words reached him through ash and ruin: "Find me. Even if you hate me for it." ---
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The cathedral had no roof.
Moonlight poured in like silver blood, painting Aeris Valen in ash and bone. She stood in the center of the broken altar, her fingers wrapped around the Relic of Hollowlight-a weapon, a curse, a whispering god trapped in gold.
She shouldn't have touched it. But Aeris never followed rules written in other people's blood.
Behind her, footsteps. Not loud. Not rushed. Confident.
She turned, one dagger drawn, the relic still glowing faintly in her hand. The figure stepping from the shadows wasn't a priest. Nor a soldier.
He moved like a ghost with a vendetta.
Black leathers clung to him like shadows. His eyes-storm-gray and glinting gold at the edges-fixed on her as if he knew exactly what she was. Or worse-who.
"You've got a relic you shouldn't have," he said, voice low and cruelly calm.
"Liberated," she corrected. "I'm more of a thief with taste."
He stepped closer. Aeris didn't retreat.
"That thing will kill you."
"Not before it kills a few others."
Their eyes locked-and something shifted. Just for a breath, the cathedral blurred. A temple in flames. His lips on hers. Her scream. His sword.
Gone.
Aeris blinked. The vision-no, memory-vanished.
"You feel it too," she said quietly. Not a question.
The man's expression didn't change, but something in his jaw clenched. "What's your name?"
"Why? So you can whisper it when you kill me?"
He came closer. She raised her dagger, but he didn't flinch.
"I've seen you," he murmured. "In the dream that never ends."
Her heartbeat stumbled.
A gust of wind howled through the ruins, blowing ash between them. The relic pulsed in her palm, slow and hungry.
"I'm Lazrin," he said. "Veilmarked. Cursed. And apparently, yours."
Aeris stared.
Something ancient curled in her blood, like a long-dead song finding its final verse.
"You were the one she died for," she said, voice barely audible.
His gaze darkened. "And you were the one who tore the Veil."
Lightning cracked in the distance.
The relic burned hotter.
Neither moved.
And in the silence, the Veil-thin and trembling-shivered.
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