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100% Sands of the Forgotten Veil / Chapter 19: The Weight of Shadows

Chapter 19: The Weight of Shadows

The Gate of the Forgotten stood before Azra like a monolith, its towering stone surface exuding a foreboding presence that made the air around her feel thick and suffocating. The symbols carved into the gate—the same ancient markings her father had once studied—pulsed faintly, as if barely clinging to life. The entire structure seemed to hum with dark energy, a force that was slowly breaking free of its bindings.

Azra stood at the edge of the crumbling courtyard that surrounded the gate, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she stared up at the massive, weathered stone. The ground beneath her feet felt unstable, as if the very fabric of the city was crumbling along with the weakening veil. She could feel the dark power pressing against the gate, pushing against the barrier that separated this world from the horrors lurking on the other side.

And the gate… it wouldn't hold much longer.

Her heart raced as the weight of the moment settled over her. This was it. Everything had led her here—to this cursed gate that had imprisoned an ancient evil for centuries. Her father had come here. Kian had sacrificed himself for this. And now, it was up to her to face the final battle, to find a way to stop the collapse of the veil before it was too late.

But as she stood there, the whispers began to return, soft and insidious, curling around her like tendrils of darkness.

Let us in…

Azra shook her head, her hand tightening on the hilt of her blade. She wouldn't let them in. She couldn't. But the doubts gnawed at her mind, clawing at her resolve. The twisted creature that had taken Kian's form had warned her: You can't stop this. The veil will fall.

The memory of Kian's sacrifice was still fresh in her mind, a wound that hadn't even begun to heal. He had given everything to protect the veil, and yet here she was, standing before a gate that was ready to break. She could still feel his touch on her skin, the warmth of his kiss, the weight of his final words.

"You promised me…"

Azra's chest tightened. She had promised him. She had promised to finish what they had started, to survive, to fight. But now, standing on the edge of the abyss, she wasn't sure if she could keep that promise. The power behind the gate felt too immense, too overwhelming. And she was just one person.

The ground beneath her feet trembled, and the gate seemed to groan in response. A thin crack appeared at its base, spreading slowly upward like a spiderweb. Azra's heart lurched in her chest. The veil was breaking. It was only a matter of time before the gate shattered completely, unleashing whatever lay behind it.

She couldn't wait any longer.

With a deep breath, Azra stepped forward, her hand reaching out to touch the cold, weathered stone of the gate. The moment her fingers brushed against its surface, a surge of dark energy pulsed through her, nearly knocking her off her feet. She gasped, her vision swimming as the whispers grew louder, more insistent.

You can't stop us…

Azra gritted her teeth, forcing herself to remain standing. She pressed her palm harder against the gate, willing herself to push back against the dark energy that surged from within. But it was like trying to hold back a flood with her bare hands. The power was too strong, too ancient, and it was only growing stronger.

A sudden flash of light caught her attention, and Azra looked down to see the symbols carved into the gate glowing brighter, flaring with a pale blue light that pulsed in time with her heartbeat. She felt the magic within them stir, as if responding to her presence.

Her father's journal had mentioned these symbols—the ancient markings of protection and binding that had held the gate shut for centuries. But they were weak now, their power fading. If she could just find a way to reinforce them, to strengthen the binding magic…

But how? How could she, a mere mortal, stop the collapse of something so vast, so powerful?

Azra's thoughts raced as the ground trembled again, the crack in the gate spreading wider. She could feel the darkness behind it pressing harder, eager to break free, to spill into the world. There wasn't much time left.

Suddenly, a faint sound reached her ears—barely audible over the hum of dark energy that filled the air. It was a voice, distant and fragmented, as if carried on the wind.

"Azra…"

Her heart stopped.

It was Kian's voice.

Azra's breath hitched, and she spun around, searching the shadows for any sign of him. But there was nothing—only the ruined city, empty and silent. Her pulse quickened, her mind racing with disbelief. Was it the veil, playing tricks on her again? Another cruel illusion meant to tear at her grief, to weaken her resolve?

But then she heard it again, clearer this time.

"Azra…"

She swallowed hard, her chest tight as she tried to calm her breathing. "Kian?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Is that you?"

There was no response at first, only the soft rustle of the wind through the ruins. Then, slowly, the voice came again—stronger now, more insistent.

"I'm here."

Azra's heart pounded in her chest. She turned toward the sound, her eyes scanning the ruins, searching desperately for any sign of him. Her mind screamed that it couldn't be real, that he was gone, but her heart clung to the hope that maybe—just maybe—it was him.

"Kian!" she called out, louder this time.

A shadow shifted near the edge of the courtyard, and Azra's breath caught in her throat. Her heart raced as the figure stepped into the dim light—a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair and sharp features. Her pulse quickened.

It was him.

"Kian…" she whispered, her voice breaking.

But something was wrong.

As the figure drew closer, Azra felt a cold, creeping dread settle over her. His face—Kian's face—was wrong. His eyes were empty, hollow pits of darkness, and his movements were slow, unnatural, as if he were being pulled forward by invisible strings.

Azra's blood ran cold.

This wasn't Kian. It was another trick, another twisted illusion meant to break her.

"No," she whispered, stepping back. "You're not him."

The figure smiled—a twisted, cruel grin that sent a shiver down her spine. "He's gone, Azra. Just like you will be. The veil will take you both."

Azra's chest tightened with fury. "I won't let you do this," she spat, her hand going to the hilt of her blade. "You don't get to wear his face."

The figure's smile widened, and the shadows around it seemed to ripple and shift, growing darker. "It's already begun. The veil is breaking, and you're too late to stop it. The gate will open, and when it does, all that you love will fall."

Azra's pulse raced, but she forced herself to stand tall, her blade gleaming in the faint light. She wouldn't let it win. She wouldn't let this twisted creature use Kian's memory against her.

"You can't break me," she growled, her grip tightening on her weapon.

Without another word, the figure lunged toward her, its body dissolving into shadow as it moved with unnatural speed. Azra dodged to the side, her blade slicing through the air where the figure had been a second before. The shadows shifted, reforming behind her, and Azra spun around just in time to block a strike from the creature's clawed hand.

The impact sent a shock of pain through her arm, but she didn't relent. She swung her blade again, this time cutting through the creature's shoulder. The shadowy figure hissed, its form flickering as if destabilized, but it didn't fall. Instead, it lunged at her again, its dark claws reaching for her throat.

Azra ducked, her blade flashing in the low light as she struck at the creature's midsection. It let out a guttural snarl, its body twisting and writhing as the shadows began to unravel.

But before she could deliver the final blow, the figure melted into the darkness, disappearing into the shadows of the ruined city.

Azra stood there, breathing hard, her blade still raised, her heart pounding in her chest. The air around her was still now, the shadows retreating back into the cracks of the ruins. The creature was gone, but its words lingered, a haunting reminder of the power she was up against.

The veil was breaking, and time was running out.

Azra turned back toward the gate, her pulse racing. She didn't know how much longer the barrier would hold, but she knew one thing for certain.

She wasn't giving up.

Not now.

Not ever.


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