The woman's silver eyes gleamed under the firelight as she stepped closer. "I am Lysara, Keeper of the Veil. We have watched you, Umbra. Your awakening has stirred forces best left asleep."
Umbra's shadow tendrils flickered, restless. "I seek only to reclaim what's mine. To end the chains of slavery that bind the innocent."
Lysara's gaze hardened. "You misunderstand. The Veil does not serve oppressors. We guard the balance. The relics you seek are not merely weapons — they are seals. Break them, and you risk unleashing chaos."
Sunny tightened his grip on his dagger. "So you want us to stay chained instead? To bow to fear and keep silent?"
Lysara's expression softened for a moment, then she sighed. "No. But power without control is destruction. You have potential, Umbra. But potential is a double-edged sword."
Umbra took a breath, shadow swirling around him. "Then teach me control. Teach me to wield this power — not as a weapon of oppression, but as a beacon of freedom."
Lysara studied him, then nodded slowly. "Very well. But know this — the path will not be easy. There are enemies within the Veil itself."
The campfire flickered as shadows danced, and the first threads of a fragile alliance were woven.