The dawn broke gently over the ruined city, casting long shadows through the remnants of shattered towers. Lysara, Nova, and Kaelen stood before the obelisk, now calm and silent, its ancient magic seemingly at rest.
"We have the truth," Lysara said softly, her fingers brushing the cold stone. "But knowing what happened isn't enough. The curse lingers because the past remains unhealed."
Nova nodded, her eyes scanning the horizon where the first light touched the broken streets. "If forgiveness and remembrance are the keys, then we must find the descendants—the living links to those who suffered."
Kaelen's grip tightened on his sword's hilt. "And confront the darkness within our own hearts. The Veil feeds not just on history, but on the bitterness we carry."
Their journey would now take them beyond the ruins, into villages and clans scattered across the land, searching for those who could remember and those willing to forgive.
As they set out, the air around them shimmered faintly—a reminder that the Veil's power was far from gone, but hope had begun to weave its threads through the shadow.