The Veilwalkers

Aria's mother lingered at the base of the stairs, looking up thoughtfully. After the tense argument between Aria and her father last night, she couldn't help but worry. Slowly, she made her way up, pausing outside Cody's door, now firmly shut. She remembered how Cody never liked his door closed—he always wanted it cracked open, so he could dart from his room to Aria's and back, playing endlessly. She could almost see him there, laughing and leaping from one room to the other, with Aria catching him just in time and scolding him to be careful. A small, sad smile softened her face before she turned to Aria's room.

From the doorway, she heard the faint rustle of movement and the low strains of soft music. She knocked lightly. "Aria?" No answer. The noise inside the room stilled, and her mother's heart tightened. She's trying to sneak out, she thought. With Aria's father gone early for work, this might be her best chance to make a run for it.

Inside, Aria cast a quick look out the window. Simon, her father's assigned guard, stood vigilant in the yard, his eyes sweeping the perimeter with watchful intensity. Aria sighed heavily, avoiding her mother's knock as she continued to pack, shoving a bundle of arrows, a small dagger her father had bought her, and some other essentials into her bag. She was determined to escape today.

Her mother knocked again, this time more urgently. "Aria? Aria, open up."

Aria huffed, finally relenting. She shut her bag, moved to the door, and swung it open.

"Oh, thank God," her mother breathed, her relief evident. "I thought you'd run off already."

"I'm fine, Mom," Aria said quietly. She turned away and sat on her bed, her shoulders sagging, a mix of frustration and sadness clouding her expression.

"I just want to end this," Aria said, her voice barely above a whisper. "More children are going to get hurt. You know that better than I do."

"Aria…" Her mother's voice softened as she knelt beside her. "If I lose you too… I don't know what I'd do. Please."

"Mom, please. Let me do this." Aria's tone was pleading, her eyes intense. "I actually have a lead now. The investigator told me something—something that could help me find answers. Please."

Her mother gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind Aria's ear and held her face, her touch warm and tender. "You're such a strong girl," she murmured. "You make me so proud."

Aria managed a faint smile, reaching for her mother's hand. "Thank you."

Her mother nodded, giving her hand a squeeze. "I'll let you go… on one condition." Aria's smile grew, a spark of hope brightening her face. "The moment you see something too dangerous, you come home. No hesitation. Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Aria promised, though she knew deep down it would be a hard one to keep.

Her mother's gaze softened further. "Aria?"

"Yes, Mom?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Mom."

Her mother stood up, a new resolve in her eyes as she called out, "Simon!" Heavy footsteps thundered up the stairs, and Simon appeared in the doorway, looking between Aria and her mother with a raised eyebrow.

"You'll accompany my daughter and keep her safe," her mother said firmly.

Simon nodded, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he looked at Aria.

"Why, Mom?" Aria asked, groaning. "I can handle myself."

"Don't worry," Simon teased, shrugging. "Just pretend I'm not here, like last time."

Aria rolled her eyes, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she headed for the stairs. Where do I even start? she wondered as she descended.

Stepping outside, she heard the slam of a car door and turned to see Arman Spyro, the investigator, striding toward her. He gave her a nod, a faint smile quirking at the corner of his mouth.

"Good morning, Miss Morrison."

"Good morning. Is there a problem?"

"Not exactly," he replied. "But I have more information."

Aria's eyes widened with anticipation. "I'm listening."

Spyro gestured toward his car. "Let's talk inside."

Once they were settled, he opened his laptop and handed it to her. "I couldn't sleep last night. Something about this case kept nagging at me. So, I did some more digging."

"Thank you, truly," Aria said, her gratitude evident.

Spyro cleared his throat. "Derek Mane—the archaeologist—wasn't an elf. He was human. And not everyone there read the ancient text. Amelia was the one who did. She studied ancient languages, and according to a survivor, she began chanting in some unknown language, started bleeding from her ears and eyes, and then attacked the others."

Aria looked up, her expression one of horrified curiosity. "What happened to her?"

Spyro pulled up a newspaper article. "Amelia's body was never found. She's still listed as missing, but recently, a hiker reported seeing someone resembling her in Havenfall Hills. He ran before getting too close."

"Was she doing anything specific?"

"Didn't say," Spyro replied, a grim look settling on his face.

Aria glanced at Simon, her brow furrowed. "Do you know anything about this?"

"Just a guard," Simon said, giving her a half-smile. "But I'll tag along if you're heading to the hills. If we find that woman, we find answers."

Aria tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her resolve hardening.

"I'll drive," Spyro offered, adjusting in his sit.

Aria looked between them, her eyes misting with gratitude. "Thank you. Both of you."

"Don't mention it," Simon replied, shutting the door to the back seat. Spyro gave her a reassuring smile as he started the engine, and they began their journey.

As they drove, Aria silently thanked the Celestials for the allies at her side. Yet as her heart filled with hope, she also whispered a prayer for protection. She was beginning to understand the dangers waiting ahead.