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Chapter Thirty

SACHA

“The exile never forgets the path they were denied.”

Ravencross Market Ballads

The Veil Mists curl around us, swirling in restless patterns that obey no natural laws. They reach with phantom fingers, tasting the air, testing boundaries. The shadows are different here. Not mine to command. Their texture brushes against my awareness, wrong in a way that demands vigilance.

Dawn brings no real clarity. Only a subtle shift from darkness to a hazy, diffused glow that casts everything in ethereal uncertainty.

Around me, the others prepare to move. Varam checks our supplies with the same methodical care I remember.

Mira studies a map, and the others sweep our campsite, erasing any sign that we were ever here.

As if the mists won’t erase us more thoroughly once we leave.

My attention returns to Ellie. She’s still sleeping, curled on her side with one hand tucked beneath her cheek.

I’ve ordered the others to keep silent, allowing her these precious moments of rest. Her body is still caught in the aftermath of yesterday’s incident.

The silver light that erupted when the bandit touched her, raw power that will have drained her far more than she’ll ever admit.

The memory replays itself. Her eyes widening in panic, silver light fracturing through her skin like lightning seeking ground.

I’ve cataloged each manifestation since they started, noting patterns, progressions, triggers.

Each occurrence grows stronger, more difficult for her to contain.

They’re not a danger to me, but a shaping of what she’s becoming.

The silver flecks in her eyes burn brighter, like stars approaching supernova.

“She’s changing,” Varam murmurs, coming to stand beside me. The familiarity of his presence brings a comfort sharpened by absence. A reminder of how much time I lost while he endured. “The silver in her eyes. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Neither have I.” I keep my voice neutral despite the admission. “It’s not like any Veinblood power I encountered before my imprisonment.” And I encountered them all. “We all have indicators in our eyes, but none like this.”

He studies her sleeping form, his face betraying rare concern. There’s a weight behind his words when he next speaks. The worry of a soldier, mixed with that of a friend.

“And you believe taking her to Ashenvale is the right decision? What if something happens while we’re there? She could expose us all, and put your entire plan at risk.”

“Yes.” I offer nothing more, letting the single word stand as my complete assessment. There has never been any need for elaboration between us.

“The Veinwarden elders are beginning to wonder if she is what the prophecies spoke of. The stranger from beyond the boundary, bringing change to our world.”

“Prophecies are useful tools for motivation,” I reply, watching how the mist flows toward Ellie’s sleeping form, then parts around her, before receding again. “They give people something to cling to. But tactics require evidence, not myths.”

Still, even as I dismiss the thought aloud, I can’t fully deny the pattern taking shape before my eyes.

Varam accepts my words with a small nod, years of friendship and command evident in how easily he backs down. Trust, tempered by caution, binds us still.

“We should move soon. The mists offer less protection once the sun rises fully.”

As he walks away, Ellie stirs. Her eyes flutter open, confusion flickering across her face before recognition takes hold. She sits up, pushing her hair back with unsteady hands, the aftereffects of yesterday’s power still lingering in her trembling fingers.

I cross to her, and offer a waterskin. “We’ll be moving soon. How do you feel?”

“Like I ran a marathon without any training.”

“A … marathon?”

She accepts the waterskin, and takes a drink. “It’s a long-distance run.”

“For what reason?”

“I ask myself the same question all the time.” Her answer leaves me no less puzzled.

When she looks up, the silver in her eyes catches what little light filters through. “That thing yesterday … with the bandits. I didn’t mean to do it. It just … poured out of me.” Her fingers twist together in her lap, the only outward sign of her distress .

“I know.” I crouch beside her, and lower my voice. “Their deaths were inevitable from the moment they saw us. You didn’t cause it. You accelerated what could not be avoided.”

And the one who touched you deserved worse than the ending I allowed him. His death was swift. It should have been slower.

“But we do need to work on suppression techniques before we reach Ashenvale. The silver in your eyes is becoming more noticeable.”

And more beautiful . The thought stops me short. It’s a dangerous observation that I immediately lock away.

Her fingers touch her face, tracing beneath her eyes as though she might feel the change. “Will the Authority recognize what it means?”

“I’m not sure. They’ve purged the bloodlines. Few remain who would recognize the signs immediately. But we can’t rely on their ignorance.”

She rises to her feet, still a little unsteady but determined, and rolls up her blanket. Her pack goes onto her back. “I’m ready to go.”

Her resilience continues to impress me. Her refusal to surrender to circumstances that would break others is becoming a constant rather than a surprise.

Once everyone is ready, we move deeper in the Veil Mists. Varam guides us through what appears to be a featureless landscape, but he’s following subtle markers only the Veinwardens know.

The mists part occasionally, revealing glimpses of the valley. Twisted trees with bark that seems to shimmer from within, moss that glows faintly green, flowers that fold closed when a break in the mist allows the sun to fall across them .

“This place.” Ellie’s voice is hushed. “It’s not just fog, is it?”

“The Veil Mists occupy a threshold.” I move closer to her. “A place where boundaries between normal and magical weaken. The Authority avoids it because their command structure depends on rigid control … and that’s impossible here.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“Only to those who don’t respect its nature.” I point to a section where the mist has thinned. “Stay on the path. The mists disorient those who wander off it.”

As if to emphasize my warning, a sound echoes through the fog. Something between a sigh and a moan, impossible to pinpoint accurately.

Ellie’s steps falter. “What was that?”

“The mists themselves, or the creatures that dwell within them. It’s best not to investigate too deeply. Curiosity has a way of killing people here.”

She moves closer to me, eyes darting around. I drop back a step, resting a hand on her shoulder and guide her in front of me.

“The path narrows here. Watch where you’re walking.”

Roots break through the soil, forming barriers that force us to focus on every step. Ellie occasionally reaches back, touching my arm, my chest. I’m not sure if she’s checking for my presence, or anchoring herself. I doubt she’s even aware that she’s doing it.

Varam and Mira keep throwing glances my way when I don't stop her, and stay silent. My attention is on how she negotiates her way along the path. Her movements are growing more confident as she adapts to the otherworldly environment surrounding us .

“We’ll stop ahead.” I lean forward and point over her shoulder toward an upcoming clearing barely visible through the swirling vapor. “There’s something you need to learn before we go any farther.”

Varam and Mira move ahead, sweeping the area. Rock formations rise from the misty ground, creating a rough circle that offers some protection from whatever might lurk beyond our vision.

“This will work. Come with me.” I guide Ellie to the center of the clearing. “We will stay here for an hour, and then we’ll continue on.”

She looks around uncertainly. “What are we doing?”

“I’m going to teach you to suppress your abilities … or at least their visible manifestations.” I remove my pack, and set it against one of the rocks. “The silver in your eyes needs to be concealed before we reach Ashenvale.”

“How? I can’t turn it off.”

“Not directly, no. But you can learn to redirect the energy flow.” I position myself in front of her. Close enough to see the silver flecks clearly, close enough to feel the pulse of power coming from her, but not so close that it risks a repeat of whatever happened when we were in Stonehaven.

“Close your eyes.”

She complies.

“Power responds to will and emotion. With training, most learn to channel it. Without training, it manifests unpredictably, as you’ve experienced, breaking through barriers in moments of stress or fear.

The first step is awareness. You’ve done this before, instinctively.

Now I want you to reach for it on purpose.

Feel the energy inside you. Locate its source. ”

The mists tighten around us, creating a boundary more absolute than the rocks. It feels almost deliberate, as though the Veil itself recognizes what we’re doing here.

Something forbidden.

If the Authority knew we stood here now, they would kill us both without hesitation.

Her brow furrows. “I’m not sure what I’m looking for.”

“The pressure you described. The vibration before the manifestation. Find where it originates.”

She stands silent for several moments, her breathing gradually turning slow and deep. “There’s something … behind my eyes. And in my chest. Like a current running between them.”

“Good. Now imagine that current as a stream of light. See it flowing through you.”

The silver in her eyes intensifies, visible beneath her closed lids.

It’s joined by a faint glow beneath her skin, branching patterns that follow her veins before spreading outward in delicate, fern-like structures.

The power within her answers immediately, like a creature long ignored suddenly acknowledged, unfurling and stretching toward freedom.