The forest grew denser as Zahra and Kael moved deeper into the Veilwood. The air thickened with mist, curling around their legs like living breath. Moonlight filtered through the trees in shifting patterns, casting illusions—sometimes it looked like eyes watching, other times like shadows trying to flee.
Zahra’s hand stayed in Kael’s, the warmth between them a silent pact. Neither spoke, not because they didn’t want to—but because the silence of the forest demanded reverence. Every step felt like trespass.
After what felt like hours, they reached a stone archway half-buried by roots and vines. It pulsed faintly with a blue glow, like it was alive—waiting.
“This is it,” Zahra whispered. “The boundary.”
Kael ran his fingers along the edge of the arch, flinching slightly. “It’s old magic.
