The town of Veilshade lay nestled at the base of the mountains, its cobblestone streets and timbered buildings basking in the soft morning light. To Aethren, it was a welcome sight after the harrowing night in the forest.

Kaelor led the way down the main road, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The townsfolk cast wary glances at them as they passed, their eyes lingering on the shard in Aethren’s hand.

“We’re attracting attention,” Aethren muttered.

Kaelor nodded. “Keep the shard hidden. This isn’t the kind of place where you want to flaunt power.”

Aethren slipped the shard into his satchel, its faint glow concealed. Even without its light, he could still feel its presence, like a heartbeat against his side.

They made their way to a small inn on the edge of town. The sign above the door read The Silver Stag, its paint faded but still legible. Inside, the air was warm, the scent of roasted meat and fresh bread wafting through the room.

Kaelor approached the innkeeper, a stout man with a thick beard and a wary expression. “Two rooms. And food.”

The innkeeper eyed them suspiciously. “We don’t get many travelers these days. What brings you to Veilshade?”

“Just passing through,” Kaelor replied, his tone curt.

The innkeeper grunted and handed them two keys. “Keep to yourselves. We don’t want any trouble.”

Aethren and Kaelor settled into their room, the small space offering little more than a bed and a rickety chair. Aethren sank onto the bed with a groan, the events of the past day catching up to him.

Kaelor stood by the window, his eyes scanning the street below. “We’ll rest here for a few hours, then move on. The Order won’t give up easily.”

Aethren sat up, frowning. “How do they keep finding us? Is it the shard?”

Kaelor nodded. “The shard’s power is like a beacon. It calls to anything tied to the Abyss, including the Order.”

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Aethren felt a chill run down his spine. “Then we’re never really safe, are we?”

“No,” Kaelor said simply. “But we can make it harder for them to track us. There are ways to mask the shard’s presence—if we can find the right tools.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. Kaelor drew his sword, motioning for Aethren to stay back.

“Who is it?” Kaelor called.

“A friend,” came a woman’s voice. It was soft, almost melodic, but there was an edge to it that made Aethren’s stomach tighten.

Kaelor opened the door cautiously, his sword at the ready. A woman stood in the hallway, her long cloak hiding most of her features. Her eyes, however, were sharp and piercing, the color of storm clouds.

“Who are you?” Kaelor demanded.

The woman smiled faintly. “My name is Seris. And if you want to stay alive, you’ll listen to what I have to say.”

Kaelor didn’t lower his sword. “Start talking.”

Seris stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. She moved with the grace of a predator, her every motion deliberate.

“The Order isn’t the only faction hunting the shard,” she said, her tone calm but urgent. “There are others—mercenaries, bounty hunters, even scholars who think they can harness its power. If you’re not careful, you’ll be dead before the week is out.”

Aethren swallowed hard. “Why are you telling us this?”

“Because I know how to stop them,” Seris replied. “But you’ll need my help.”

Kaelor’s eyes narrowed. “Why should we trust you?”

“You don’t have to,” Seris said with a shrug. “But if you don’t, you won’t last long. The Order has already placed a bounty on your heads. Every hunter in the region knows your faces.”

Aethren glanced at Kaelor, uncertainty written all over his face. “What do we do?”

Kaelor studied Seris for a long moment before finally lowering his sword. “We’ll hear you out. But if this is a trap—”

“It’s not,” Seris interrupted. “Believe me, I have no love for the Order.”

She pulled a small, intricate device from her cloak and placed it on the table. It was a crystalline orb encased in metal, glowing faintly with a soft blue light.

“This is a nullifier,” she explained. “It can mask the shard’s presence, at least temporarily. But it needs to be attuned to the shard’s energy.”

Aethren frowned. “How do we do that?”

“It’s not easy,” Seris admitted. “You’ll need to visit a Sanctum—a place where the barriers between worlds are thin. There’s one not far from here, hidden in the forest.”

Kaelor crossed his arms. “And what’s in it for you?”

Seris met his gaze evenly. “The same thing that’s in it for you: survival. The Order isn’t just after the shard—they’re after anyone who opposes them. Helping you weakens them.”

Kaelor seemed to consider this, then nodded. “Fine. We’ll go to the Sanctum. But you’re coming with us.”

Seris smiled faintly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The trio left the inn under the cover of darkness, the streets of Veilshade eerily quiet. Seris led the way, her movements silent and confident.

As they entered the forest, Aethren couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being followed. He glanced over his shoulder, his heart racing.

“Relax,” Seris said without looking back. “If anyone was tailing us, I’d know.”

Her confidence was reassuring, but Aethren still felt uneasy. The shard pulsed faintly in his satchel, its energy a constant reminder of the danger they were in.

They traveled for hours, the forest growing darker and more oppressive with each step. Finally, Seris stopped in front of a massive tree, its gnarled roots twisting like serpents.

“This is it,” she said, gesturing to the base of the tree.

Aethren frowned. “It’s just a tree.”

Seris smirked. “Look closer.”

Kaelor stepped forward, running his hand along the bark. It shimmered faintly under his touch, revealing an intricate pattern of runes carved into the wood.

“A gateway,” he said softly.

Seris nodded. “The Sanctum lies beyond. But be warned—this place is ancient and unpredictable. The energy there will test you.”

Aethren swallowed hard. “What kind of test?”

Seris’s expression grew serious. “The kind you either pass—or don’t.”