Eclipse Requiem

Kael stared at Joren's outstretched hand, his mind racing.

A deal with the **Shadow Guild**.

There was no turning back now.

He glanced at Lyra. She met his eyes, giving a subtle nod—her way of saying, *We don't have another choice*.

Kael exhaled, then clasped Joren's hand.

"Good," Joren said, his grip firm. "Then let's talk about what this deal actually means."

He leaned back, motioning to one of his men. The tattooed rogue who had spoken earlier stepped forward, dropping a **black leather pouch** onto the table.

Kael heard the unmistakable clink of **coins** inside.

"A little advance payment," Joren said. "Consider it a sign of good faith."

Kael hesitated. "For what?"

Joren smirked. "For surviving."

Kael frowned. "What do you mean?"

Joren took another sip from his flask before answering. "That bounty contract I showed you? It's still active. Which means the **Celestial Church** isn't the only group hunting you. Every assassin, bounty hunter, and mercenary worth their salt is going to be looking for you now."

Kael felt a chill creep up his spine.

"So you're paying me to stay alive?"

Joren chuckled. "Partly. But mostly, I'm paying you to **become someone worth betting on**."

Kael narrowed his eyes. "Explain."

Joren leaned forward, his expression turning serious. "The world runs on power, kid. The strong live, the weak die. Right now, you're caught in the middle, and if you don't get stronger fast, you won't last the week."

He pointed at the **Eclipse Seal** on Kael's arm. "That mark is your curse… but it's also your key to survival. If you learn to control it, you might just have a shot at making it out of this alive."

Kael clenched his fists. He had felt a **glimpse** of that power already—when he dodged Gideon's spear, when the darkness had obeyed him in the abyss.

But controlling it? That was another matter entirely.

"You know someone who can teach me?" Kael asked.

Joren's smirk returned. "I know **someone**. But their help doesn't come cheap."

Kael exhaled. "How much?"

Joren's smirk widened. "Oh, it's not money they're after. They're interested in **favors**."

Kael frowned. "Favors?"

Joren nodded. "You want power? You're going to have to earn it. And that means getting your hands a little **dirty**."

Kael didn't like the sound of that.

Lyra crossed her arms. "Who are we talking about?"

Joren tapped the table twice. The tattooed rogue stepped forward again, this time holding up a **sealed letter** with a strange **symbol** on it—an **eyeless skull** surrounded by curved lines.

Kael had never seen it before, but Lyra's reaction was immediate. Her breath hitched, her face darkening.

"Are you serious?" she hissed. "You want him to go to the **Veilborn**?"

Kael frowned. "Who?"

Lyra turned to him. "They're not a guild. They're not even criminals. They're—" She shook her head. "No, this is a bad idea."

Joren sighed. "You always were dramatic, Lyra. The **Veilborn** aren't the monsters people think they are. They just… operate differently."

Lyra glared at him. "Differently? They worship the **Abyss**, Joren! They don't just deal in power—they trade in **souls**."

Kael stiffened.

Joren shrugged. "And yet, they're the only ones who might understand that **mark** on his arm."

Silence fell between them.

Kael looked down at the **Eclipse Seal**, his mind flashing back to the abyss. The **eye** in the darkness. The **voice** that had spoken to him.

*"You are not ready."*

Whatever was inside him… the Celestial Church feared it. The abyss recognized it. And now, the Shadow Guild was telling him the only people who might understand it were **Veilborn**—worshipers of that very abyss.

Lyra clenched her jaw. "Kael, you don't have to do this. We can find another way."

Kael swallowed hard.

Another way.

That would be nice.

But did they really have time to search for one?

If the Celestials and bounty hunters were already after him, then every second spent running was another second closer to **death**.

No. He needed **answers**.

He needed **power**.

Kael took the letter from Joren's hand.

Lyra's face fell. "Kael—"

"I have to do this," he said quietly.

Lyra didn't argue, but the look in her eyes told him exactly how she felt about it.

Joren grinned. "Smart choice."

He stood, grabbing his cloak. "The Veilborn have a hideout deep in the undercity. You'll find them at the old **Aether Ruins**, past the abandoned train tunnels."

Kael nodded.

Joren chuckled. "Oh, and one more thing."

Kael turned.

Joren's smirk vanished. "The Veilborn don't just let anyone walk into their domain. If you go, be prepared to **give them something** in return."

Kael's grip tightened around the letter.

Lyra sighed. "This is a terrible idea."

"Maybe," Kael admitted. "But it's our only one."

With that, he turned and headed for the door.

Because if the **price of power** was his soul—

He needed to know if it was **worth paying**.

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