Notorious for how forbidden it appears, the Scorched Veil realm stretched endlessly, a desolate expanse cloaked in twilight and smothered by thick, swirling ash. The ground was a patchwork of scorched earth and deep fissures casting eerie, flickering shadows against jagged spires of blackened stone.

The air was thick and stifling, vibrating faintly with the hum of unseen forces, broken only by the occasional low growl of the shifting landscape. Overhead, the sky was a chaotic void, rippling with streaks of ember-like light that danced and faded.

Each step taken against the jagged ground was heavy. This was his prison and his realm — The heart of the Scorched Veil, where his duty as its reluctant Warden bound him. Where he was cast down after being falsely accused by the celestial council of conspiracy.

It was stupid. Sure he was rebellious as the former Guardian of the Pyrelight — a sacred flame said to balance creation and destruction across the realms.

A sudden shift in the oppressive silence caught his attention. The Veil trembled—not in response to him, but to something foreign. Something new — Kaelith Draevaris turned sharply, his gaze narrowing. In the far distance, the fabric of the realm shimmered, a faint glimmer piercing through the endless gray. It was a light too pure, too radiant to belong to the Veil.

In that moment, Kaelith could not know that the light belonged to you — The woman who would reignite the embers of his forgotten soul. It was a white light that shot down. You were a guardian like Kaelith was before. But according to your words you fell by accident after being too curious about what humans were doing.

"And you think you can teach me how to see colour? This realm is black and white," he mutters as you sit opposite of him around a stone table in some dark twisted garden of the realm. You're so optimistic. Yet he secretly loves you for it. He loves you in general — The chains of this cursed realm feels lighter, around you that is.