As dusk settled over the village, the shadows stretched long across the fields, casting a dim light that turned the world into a palette of grays and blues. The villagers had retreated to their cottages, windows glowing with the faint warmth of candlelight. But as Amara walked along the edge of the village, the darkness beyond the trees felt thicker, more pressing.

Orin caught up to her, his expression a mixture of determination and worry. He was carrying a small satchel packed with supplies—herbs, chalk, and a few other items they used to reinforce the wards.

“Do you really think the curse will come again tonight?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Amara placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It’s only a precaution. We’re just keeping watch. If nothing happens, then all the better.”

But the tension in her voice betrayed her calm exterior. She hadn’t forgotten the heat that clung to the forest last night, the sickly warmth of the Ember’s presence that had felt far too close. Each time she encountered it, she sensed it growing stronger, more attuned to their world.

Orin nodded, though the worry didn’t leave his eyes. “I want to stay and help,” he said firmly.

She shook her head, trying to soften her tone. “Not tonight. You’ve done enough by preparing the wards with me today. Go back, help Mother, and stay inside. I’ll take it from here.”

For a moment, he looked as though he might protest. But then he caught sight of Kaelan, who was making his way toward them, a small lantern casting faint shadows across his face. Orin hesitated, his gaze flicking between Amara and Kaelan before he finally nodded.

“Be careful,” he murmured, his voice low. “I don’t like this...not one bit.”

Amara squeezed his shoulder. “Neither do I. But we’ll handle it.”

He nodded reluctantly, casting a wary glance at Kaelan before slipping back into the village. Amara watched him go, a pang of guilt tightening her chest. She wanted to shield him from the reality of the curse, to keep him safe from the horrors that lurked just beyond the Veil. But each night, the boundary grew thinner, and she knew that hiding the truth from him was no longer an option.

Kaelan approached, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “Your brother seems…concerned.”

“He’s young,” she replied, keeping her voice steady. “And he’s not used to this kind of danger.”

Kaelan nodded, his gaze distant. “You’ve done well to keep him safe.”

“Safety is a fleeting thing these days,” she murmured, casting her gaze toward the dark line of trees. The quiet hum of the Veil was barely a whisper tonight, its presence thinner, stretched, as if waiting for something to disturb its calm.

They settled into a silent watch, standing just within the boundary of the village. The night deepened, the stillness stretching taut like a bowstring. Kaelan leaned against a tree, arms crossed, his gaze sharp and alert. Amara could feel his presence, steady and watchful, and though they hadn’t spoken much about their histories, she sensed a kinship, a shared understanding of duty that words could never quite capture.

“What made you stay?” she asked quietly, her voice breaking the silence.

He glanced at her, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What do you mean?”

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“You didn’t have to stay here, to help. You could have kept moving, left this to me and my family.”

He was quiet for a moment, his gaze drifting to the dark horizon. “I’ve seen what the Ember curse can do. It doesn’t just destroy—it hollows people out, takes something fundamental from them. I’ve seen entire villages lost to it, and I…I don’t want to watch that happen again.”

There was a weight to his words, a heaviness that spoke of experiences he hadn’t yet shared. Amara studied him, sensing the shadows in his past, the unspoken memories he carried.

“It’s good to have another set of eyes,” she said simply. “Someone who understands.”

A silence stretched between them, comfortable yet heavy with unspoken questions. She could sense his guardedness, the same wariness that she carried. But just as she was about to speak again, the night’s quiet shattered.

A low hiss, like steam escaping from a boiling pot, drifted from the forest. Amara froze, her senses heightening, the familiar, sickly warmth creeping over her skin.

“It’s here,” she whispered, her hand tightening around her staff.

Kaelan pushed off the tree, his stance shifting, ready. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t hesitate. He simply fell into place beside her, eyes fixed on the dark line of trees.

The hiss grew louder, morphing into a faint whisper, like the sound of voices just out of reach. Amara could feel the Veil trembling, the boundary between worlds pulsing with a dark, twisted energy. She drew a deep breath, focusing her mind, centering her magic.

A figure emerged from the shadows. Its form was indistinct, more like a smudge of ember-glow and shadow than anything solid. It flickered, pulsing with an unnatural light, its hollow eyes fixing on them with an intensity that sent a chill down her spine.

Kaelan raised his sword, his gaze locked on the creature. “Same as last time?”

She nodded, already tracing a ward in the air, her fingers weaving shadows that coiled into a barrier between them and the creature. The ward shimmered, casting a faint glow across the clearing.

But this time, the creature didn’t halt. Instead, it pressed forward, its form flickering as it pushed against her ward, testing its strength.

Amara gritted her teeth, reinforcing the barrier, feeling the strain in her hands. This remnant was stronger, its presence more solid, more focused. She could sense its malice, a hunger that went beyond simple destruction.

“Push it back toward the Veil,” she said, her voice strained.

Kaelan gave a quick nod, stepping forward, his sword raised. He swung in a wide arc, the blade slicing through the creature’s form, sending a spray of embers into the night. The remnant flickered, its form weakening, but it didn’t vanish. Instead, it hissed, lunging toward Kaelan with a sudden ferocity.

Amara’s heart leapt as she tightened the ward, forcing it between Kaelan and the creature. Shadows coiled around the remnant, holding it back just long enough for Kaelan to regain his footing.

He shot her a quick, grateful glance before stepping forward again, his blade glinting in the faint light. Together, they pressed forward, inching the creature closer to the edge of the Veil, the boundary that separated their world from the realm beyond.

The remnant hissed again, its form flickering violently as it neared the Veil’s edge. Amara could feel the pull, the energy of the Veil drawing the creature back, but it resisted, clinging to their world with a desperation that chilled her.

She poured her strength into the ward, channeling every ounce of magic she could muster. The shadows around the creature tightened, forcing it toward the Veil.

With a final, shuddering hiss, the creature was pulled into the boundary, its ember-lit form dissolving into smoke that faded into the night.

Amara staggered, the exhaustion hitting her all at once. She felt Kaelan’s hand steady her, his grip firm and grounding.

“You all right?” he asked, his voice low.

She nodded, though her vision swam with the remnants of the battle. “It’s getting stronger. The curse…it’s adapting.”

He gave a grim nod, his gaze fixed on the dark line of the Veil. “Then we’re going to need more than wards and shadows.”

They stood in silence, the weight of the night settling over them. Amara felt the warmth of the lantern beside them, a small comfort in the chill that had seeped into her bones. But she knew that their fight had only just begun. The curse was learning, adapting, and she didn’t know how much longer they could keep it at bay.

Kaelan’s steady presence beside her was reassuring, but the weight of responsibility felt heavier than ever. She glanced at him, the unspoken questions lingering between them. There was more to him, more than he’d revealed. And she suspected that, soon, those shadows would need to be brought into the light.

But for now, they turned back toward the village, the quiet hum of the Veil fading into the night as the first hints of dawn brushed the sky.