Shadow’s Veil – Part 4

Vaelin hit the ground hard. His breath punched from his lungs as he tumbled through the darkness, his body rolling across something smooth and cold. He came to a stop on his back, staring up at a sky that wasn’t a sky at all—just an endless void swirling with fragmented light, twisting like liquid glass.

A sharp crack split the silence.

Elira landed beside him, far more gracefully, her boots sliding against the strange, mirror-like surface. She barely had time to get her bearings before she dropped to her knees at his side.

“Vaelin?”

His vision blurred for a moment, then sharpened. He groaned, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “I’m alive. Probably.”

Elira’s green eyes flickered over him, searching for injuries. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she grabbed his wrist, turning his hand palm-up.

The shard was gone, but something had taken its place.

Dark veins spiderwebbed from his palm, trailing up his forearm before disappearing beneath his sleeve. They pulsed faintly, like ink bleeding into his skin. A sensation like liquid shadow curled in his ribs—not painful, but present.

Elira exhaled, rubbing her forehead. “I told you this was a bad idea.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Vaelin flexed his fingers, frowning. His body still felt like his own, but the weight of something unseen coiled beneath his skin. The memory of the voices, the shadows whispering in an unknown tongue, clung to him.

Elira’s worry was palpable. “Do you feel… different?”

“Depends.” He gave a dry smirk. “Do I have glowing eyes or an ominous echo in my voice yet?”

She folded her arms, unimpressed. “Vaelin.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “No, I feel… fine. Mostly.” He hesitated. “But something’s there.”

Elira didn’t like that answer.

Before she could respond, the world lurched.

The smooth ground beneath them fractured, the cracks spiderwebbing outward in eerie, jagged patterns.

Elira shot to her feet, gripping her staff. “That’s probably bad.”

Vaelin followed her gaze to the distance. Something was moving.

At first, it was just a flicker—a ripple against the unnatural horizon. Then the shape unfurled, stretching into the form of something massive.

It had no defined body, just a shifting mass of shadows, tendrils coiling and writhing. Where its face should have been, there was only a gaping void. A low, resonant growl vibrated through the air, deep enough to shake the ground.

Vaelin slowly reached for his daggers. “Definitely bad.”

Elira swore under her breath. “That’s a Riftborn.”

Vaelin raised a brow. “Should I know what that is?”

“They’re entities from the Shadow Realm. They aren’t supposed to be able to cross into our world.”

“Well, it looks like one’s trying.”

The Riftborn reared up, its formless body shifting, its tendrils spiking outward like jagged spears. The air around it crackled with energy.

Then—

It lunged.

Vaelin moved on instinct. He grabbed Elira’s wrist and yanked her backward just as the Riftborn’s tendrils slammed into the ground where they had stood. The impact sent shockwaves through the surface, shattering it into jagged shards.

Elira didn’t hesitate. She raised her staff, the crystal at its tip flaring with light. A pulse of arcane energy erupted from her hands, forming a shimmering barrier between them and the creature.

The Riftborn struck the shield, shrieking as the energy sizzled against its form. It recoiled, but the force of the impact sent cracks racing through Elira’s barrier.

Her jaw tightened. “This won’t hold.”

Vaelin’s eyes darted around, searching for an opening. They couldn’t fight this thing head-on—not like this. “We need a way out.”

Elira nodded, already moving. “The rift—it has to be near. If we can reach it, we can get back.”

The Riftborn let out another screech, its tendrils reforming. It was learning.

Vaelin exhaled sharply. “Then let’s move.”

They ran.

The surface beneath them shifted like unstable glass, each step sending ripples through the fractured reality. The Riftborn gave chase, its form shifting unnaturally, sliding across the ground without true movement. The air behind them warped, space distorting like liquid.

Then—

There.

Up ahead, a pulsing tear in the air shimmered, flickering between existence and nothingness. The rift.

“We just need to reach it!” Elira shouted.

Vaelin cast a glance over his shoulder. The Riftborn was closing in. Fast.

Too fast.

He made a split-second decision.

“Elira,” he barked. “Go.”

She skidded to a halt. “What

“I’ll buy time. Just get through.”

Her expression darkened. “Are you insane? You can’t—”

“No time to argue, mage!”

He shoved her forward.

The Riftborn lunged—

Vaelin turned to meet it.

He didn’t think. He didn’t plan. He just moved.

The darkness in his veins reacted.

The moment the Riftborn’s tendrils lashed toward him, he stepped into the shadows—and vanished.

The world shifted around him.

For a single breath, he wasn’t in the Shadow Realm. He was in something else, something deeper, something older.

Then he was behind the Riftborn.

He reappeared mid-strike, daggers flashing. The weapons cut into the creature’s form, slicing through shadow like it was flesh. The Riftborn screamed, its body rippling violently.

It wasn’t dead. But it had felt that.

Vaelin gritted his teeth. What the hell just happened?

No time to question it.

“Elira!” he barked.

She was already at the rift, eyes wide. She had seen. Without hesitation, she raised her staff and threw her magic forward.

The rift flared, energy pulsing outward.

The Riftborn screeched, its form disintegrating in the backlash of the magic.

Vaelin didn’t wait. He sprinted toward Elira—

And leapt into the rift just as the world collapsed behind them.

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All Parts of this Series

• Shadow's Veil Part 1
• Shadow's Veil Part 2
• Shadow's Veil Part 3
• Shadow's Veil Part 4
• Shadow's Veil Part 5