Chapter 3 Beneath the Vail

The village of Thornebrook was draped in fog that morning, as if the heavens themselves sought to hide what was to come.

Smoke curled lazily from stone chimneys, and shutters creaked as the wind pressed against them like unseen fingers. The central square, usually quiet at this hour, was full-elders, merchants, hunters, and healers stood gathered in tense silence. A hush settled over them as Liora was led forward by two cloaked figures.

She wore her soft grey dress-wool with silver threading at the sleeves, the hem brushing her calves. Her boots were muddied from the walk through the frost-tipped grass, and her long brown hair had been hastily braided to one side. She held her head high, though her heart rattled like a caged bird.

At the top of the stone steps stood High Priestess Elowen, wrapped in a ceremonial robe of midnight blue, decorated with sun sigils stitched in gold. Her face was stern, carved from years of wisdom and wariness.

"You are Liora Thorne," Elowen's voice rang out, clear and calm like still water. "Healer of the outer fields. Daughter of Corin the herbalist and Myra the midwife."

"I am," Liora replied, voice steady.

Elowen narrowed her eyes. "You were seen wandering near the border. Near the Veil."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

"I was gathering herbs," Liora said. "I crossed unintentionally."

Elowen's expression did not soften. "And did you encounter anything beyond the Veil?"

Liora hesitated-only for a heartbeat. But the pause was enough.

A flicker of movement caught her eye beyond the crowd, near the edge of the trees. Cloaked in black and hidden beneath the shadow of an ancient oak, Azrael stood silent, his crimson eyes glowing faintly.

He had come.

Liora looked back at the High Priestess. "I was alone."

Another murmur. Skeptical. Fearful.

Elowen descended one step. "You carry with you a scent that is not of this world. The scouts speak of scorched air. A faint mark upon the clearing where you stood. There are rumors-dangerous ones."

Liora's fingers curled around the edge of her cloak. "I do not fear rumors, only lies."

"You deflect. That alone casts doubt."

"I will not confess to something I did not do."

Elowen's gaze sharpened. "Then I will ask you plainly, child: Did you speak with a demon?"

Silence.

The sky above dimmed behind clouds, casting a steely hue over the square. Crows croaked from the rooftops, as if warning of something unseen.

Liora's voice was quiet. "I did not invite him. I did not summon him. But yes. I saw one."

Gasps erupted. Elowen raised her hand, silencing them.

"You admit it, then."

"I admit... he did not harm me," she said. "He let me go."

Elowen studied her for a long moment. "And did you feel safe in his presence?"

"No." A pause. "But I didn't feel afraid either."

From the shadows, Azrael's jaw tightened. His hands were clenched beneath his cloak, but he made no move. He couldn't-not yet.

"You have brought danger to this village," Elowen declared. "Whether by intention or ignorance, you have crossed into the realm of darkness and returned... marked. If you were anyone else, I would exile you. Or worse."

Liora swallowed but said nothing.

"But you are a healer. One this village needs." Elowen stepped closer. "So I give you a choice."

Liora met her eyes.

"You will remain under watch. You will swear upon flame and root never to return to the Veil. You will close your heart to whatever darkness has stirred it. If you refuse... you leave Thornebrook at first light."

The crowd stared, waiting.

And from the edge of the trees, Azrael waited too.

Liora's hands trembled slightly. "I choose to stay," she said.

But her voice cracked on the word.

---

That night, as the village slept and the moon hung low, Liora stood outside her cottage, a single candle flickering at her window.

She wrapped her shawl tight around her shoulders, heart still heavy.

"I said I would stay," she whispered into the night. "But I didn't promise to forget."

Behind her, a shadow stepped from the trees.

"You shouldn't have spoken my name," Azrael said.

She turned slowly. "I didn't."

"Then why do I feel like I've been exposed?"

His tone was sharp, but his eyes held something else-regret... and longing.

"You came," she said.

"I always come when you're in danger."

Silence stretched.

Liora stepped toward him. "They fear you. But they don't know you."

"They're wise to fear me."

"I don't."

"I know," he said softly. "That's what scares me most."