The air in Veilheim always weighed down, thick with sharp sparks, rock older than memory, also fog rolling slowly from below. Right here, open ground nestled in a ring the Druids once shaped on Whisperwind’s side, the chill bit deeper today. Huge stones, narrow at the top, stood guard round Caleb - the horse with steel-gray coat - every slab cloaked in green fuzz that lit dim when the moon climbed high. Caleb looked stunning, his coat like dusk on ice, mixed with warm bronze spots from his pangare edges. Light played off his blue-tinged champagne coat, glinting where sunbeams slipped through trees; yet what burned brightest was something inside - wild kindness, pure, tied to the spirit of the shroud opal wulf. He shifted constantly, eyes darting into dark gaps among the rocks. Next to him stood Psique, a pale mare with hints of copper glow, frozen solid. Her icy nature gave her quiet control - an unmoving peace that often annoyed Caleb, how she never seemed to rush. "It's quieter," Psique said, so soft it almost faded - nothing like her usual bright tone. She tilted forward, sampling the breeze close to a massive rock. Yet instead of sound, there was stillness. The moss stayed silent. Somehow, the energy paths seemed... stretched thin Caleb snorted, a plume of warm air momentarily clouding the chill. “Strained, is one word for it. I’d call it dead. Like the forest is holding its breath.” His hooves tensed against the wet ground, jittery sparks of flame flickering under his coat. Out here in Veilheim, quiet didn’t mean calm - more like breath held before a scream. The change crept in quietly but deep. Not far off, the swamp’s rough frog calls dropped dead. Instead of its normal thin fog drifting by the rocks, the air clumped up fast - cloudy for just a second - then ripped backward like something yanked underground. Then, the anomaly. Caleb's ears twitched, snapping his focus sharp off the group nearby. He squinted through a thin gap in the giant stones - there, far out past the trees, a thick gray patch clung to the skyline. Not like Veilheim’s soft haze at all. This one sat heavy, churning slow, built like something on purpose. Smoke. "Hey, Psique," Caleb said quietly, his tone strained. Psique followed his gaze, her typically easygoing demeanor hardening into focused concentration. “Not a natural storm cloud. Too localized, too dark. That is fire, Caleb. And it is moving.” The smoke didn’t simply rise - it got pushed, spreading sideways along the top of the hills. That meant either a huge wildfire sparked by wild spellwork - risky enough on its own - or something darker: organized forces on the move. Veilheim offered shelter, though peace? Not really. Caleb sensed the warm glow of his fire flaring inside, poised to burst out as shimmering circles. Yet before he moved, something sharper hit - goosebumps on his neck, a chill slicing through the warmth. Something was watching. The sensation wasn't about distant eyes watching - it was like being trapped in a sharp, close-up stare. Caleb twisted his head bit by bit, checking the thick shadows huddled under the farthest big stone. That darkness didn't just resist the moon's glow - it swallowed it whole. A solid mass of blackness sat there, soaking up noise and brightness without a trace. Psique - who normally brushes off baseless fears - tensed up suddenly. Not glancing toward the dark shape, she kept her eyes locked on the floor instead. Her stance screamed wariness. "Don't move quickly," she mouthed, her eyes wide. "The air is wrong beside the stone. It's too thick, absorbing light—not just shadow." Caleb's heart pounded in his chest. Not some wild animal or lost ghost - the thing watching seemed sharp, deliberate, like it was waiting on purpose. He sensed invisible eyes locked onto his back, while something strong but unseen crackled nearby, held tight under the surface. He was torn between doing what felt right and keeping himself safe. Was it smarter to focus on the distant warning sign - the smoke - he could actually see and react to, or worry about the hidden risk lurking close by, ready to hit one of them before they moved an inch? The fire side took it. Because of that, he needed to handle the close danger first before heading into what lay far ahead. Otherwise, Psique might get hit from the back. Next up, I’m turning on the light. Caleb eased into a new position, sliding Psique just behind his shoulder. Yet he pulled tight the wild force inside him, shaping fierce fire’s glare into something calmer - his wulf form sparked alive, glowing cool silver-blue, laced with flickers of restless bronze-red from old-style champagne. He wasn’t trying to blow it up - he aimed to reveal it. He breathed in slowly, then - no warning at all - he shot out a steady wave of warmth. It didn’t burn the earth, just curled into a glowing barrier, faintly rainbow-colored, wrapping both of them. That bright burst hit hard against the thick, strange darkness right away. The shadow pushed harder, folding into itself, trying to gulp down the light. Between the shield and the giant stone, the space turned into a clear barrier of fighting force. “Come out," Caleb said, voice rough, filled with a sharp static hum. "I can tell you're hiding nearby - no use staying quiet." The second the glow got brighter, the dark shape jerked back. A brief flicker, then a twitch in the dark - next thing, everything twisted sideways. Light clashed with make-believe, warping what you saw. The hidden truth fell apart - gently, sort of how light spills in when a theater curtain shifts. Caleb sucked in air - his chest tightened, yet a deep calm rushed in at the same time. A clash hit him: one part stiff with stress, another melting into quiet release. His muscles twitched while peace crept through like morning light. It wasn’t some beast, yet looked twisted somehow. That figure? Mirage. The silver-blue horse stood out sharply under the glowing opal hue. Mirage looked wild, almost scary - a mix of silver, black, and white swirls like a pard tobiano roan painted roughly over his fur. Yet it was the small things that unsettled you: his ribs showed clearly through tight skin, while huge plumed wings, dark as old steel and deep night, lay flattened along his spine - making him seem like some sky-born hunter stuck in place. He wasn't just an image - he felt unreal yet ready to fight, someone who could twist what seemed real. Mirage’s eyes - usually warm and kind - were sharp now, locked onto the haze far off, not on Caleb. He wasn’t lying in wait to strike; he’d been masked by a trick of sight, keeping watch at the edge. "Mirage? Is that really you?" Psique said, fear fading quick - now she just worried. "You seem... off." Mirage glanced over, slow-like. His face showed that usual blend - drained, yet locked in tight. Cool it, Caleb - Mirage spoke straight into his head, no sound needed, just the low buzz of mental links. I kept the cover strong ‘cause you’re glowing hot, like a damn signal flare Caleb immediately dropped the intensity of his opal shield, the heat receding. “You were just sitting there, letting us panic! What are you doing? And why is your illusion eating light?” “I’ve been monitoring the northern approach for nearly an hour. The Veil is thinning rapidly near the old Sunken Road. Whatever is causing the smoke knows how to exploit the weakness,” Mirage explained, his attention flickering back toward the distant grey plume. “I couldn’t risk breaking the cloaking too soon. My job was to observe the threat’s origin and remain invisible.” Psique moved ahead, cool again once she spotted the looming danger. Her ice power helped her read energies - no fiery rush clouding things. Instead of flare, there was clarity. Where others jumped, she paused. Not force, but focus guided her. Cold didn't mean stiff; it meant sharp. She saw what heat would've burned past. “The smoke,” she said, pointing a careful hoof toward the ridge. “It’s too black and too low. It’s not just burning wood. I smell ozone mixed with something metallic, like burnt silver.” Mirage nodded slowly, folding his vast wings into a tighter profile. “They’re using elemental fire, not just natural flame. And they’re fast. They covered miles while I held watch. By the time that smoke reaches the forest edge, they will be here.” The air, once calm after Mirage showed up, slowly turned thick with fear. Smoke poured out quicker - backing up what Mirage said about how fast things were moving. The three guardians held their ground inside Veilheim’s central ring, surrounded by a rising threat moving quickly. While ancient stones hummed beneath them, shadows twisted at the edge of sight. Though outnumbered, they tightened grips on worn weapons passed down through bloodlines. Since no retreat was possible, each braced for impact under flickering torchlight. As one whispered an old warning, cracks spread across the altar behind them. Caleb stared at the smoke, then shifted his gaze to Mirage - good at vanishing, good at soaring - all while glancing toward Psique - who held the earth steady. The wild urge to rush the obvious danger didn't vanish, but it slowed once he realized they weren't up against chaos, more like a team trained in magic. “We can’t stay here and wait for them to breach the Veil,” Caleb stated, his voice firm. His next move was no longer a panicked defensive action, but a coordinated strategy. “Mirage, you are faster and can read the currents of the air. You need to scout ahead. Determine their numbers and their intent. Are they just raiders, or are they attempting to shatter the circle’s magic?” Mirage didn’t hesitate. “Done. I’ll keep the illusion subtle and rely only on flight and silence. I’ll report back here.” “Psique, your frost element is disruptive to hostile magic, and you are the steadiest of us,” Caleb continued, turning to the mare. “You stay here. You are the anchor. If they try to attack the stones themselves, you generate the absolute zero barrier—contain the magic until Mirage and I return.” Psique gave a nod, her tan hide merging with the weathered rocks nearby. Her hooves settled into place, steady and sure. "They’re not getting near the middle," she said, voice low but firm Caleb eyed the route Mirage planned - up above, wide and clear - while his own led through trees below, cutting across her front. Fire suited him when charging forward, not waiting around. That’s how he blocked things - he didn’t stand still. “I’m meeting them halfway, before they hit the open clearing,” Caleb declared, channeling the intense heat of his wulf core once more, this time focusing it into a ready state of aggressive, searing light. “If they are using elemental fire, I’ll match it. If they are soldiers, I’ll force them to scatter. Keep your focus sharp, both of you.” A quick flap - barely a sound - from his big wings sent Mirage shooting up, fading fast into the misty dark above, just a shadow slipping past the stars. Caleb gave Psique a quick look - she stood there glowing faintly, cold peace spreading from her - and shifted toward the giant stone that loomed at the north edge. Moving fast but smooth, he started forward, feet gliding over wet moss without noise. Smoke pulled him ahead, while his magic flickered like pale fire around his frame, clinging close under Veilheim’s dark canopy, flame answering flame. No more stalling. It kicked off now.