Hope narrowed his eyes slightly. How does he know all this?
The government had made an effort to educate the masses about The Veil, but it was always broad and vague—warnings to be careful, explanations that those who disappeared weren't dead but rather taken. The specifics, however, were always missing. The truth was buried beneath half-truths and official statements designed to keep people from panicking. Yet Kelvin spoke with certainty, as if he had spent his whole life preparing for this.
"How do you know all these things?" Hope asked, his voice calm but edged with curiosity.
Kelvin exhaled through his nose, his expression unreadable. "I've been prepared to face The Veil since I was little," he admitted, his voice carrying an undertone of something deeper—something personal. "I've been told many secrets that would ensure my survival in this first trial."
Hope tilted his head slightly, studying him. "Secrets?"
Kelvin nodded. "Things that aren't common knowledge. Things that only those who have faced The Veil and survived truly understand."
Hope didn't press him further, but he filed that information away. It made sense, in a way. Some people knew more than others. Some were prepared while others were thrown in blind, left to fend for themselves in the chaos of The Ashlands.
Kelvin leaned back slightly. "How do you think I got my armor?"
Hope glanced at the now-vanished set of full-body armor, recalling how it had shimmered and dissolved into Kelvin's soul sea. It had protected him, absorbed impacts, and even withered away like something ephemeral. It was clearly more than just normal gear.
"It was given to me by my parents," Kelvin said, his voice quieter now, as if the weight of those words carried something more than just simple fact. "They have challenged The Veil before me."
Hope's brows furrowed slightly. That explained why Kelvin knew so much—he had been raised by people who had survived this place before him. That meant his parents weren't just normal people. They were Awakened. Maybe even stronger.
Before Hope could process that thought fully, another question formed in his mind.
"If memories—like your armor—can be transferred," he asked, "then why doesn't almost everyone have them in the waking world?"
It was a fair question. If those who survived The Veil returned with power, why didn't they pass those abilities down to their children? Why weren't more people walking around with weapons or armor forged from the experiences of others?
Kelvin shook his head. "It's not that simple," he explained. "Memories, like my armor, aren't something that can just be given to anyone. They can only be transferred under specific conditions."
Hope remained silent, waiting for him to continue.
"The armor was given to me when I was marked by The Veil," Kelvin clarified. "When I started showing symptoms of being taken."
Hope's fingers twitched slightly at those words. He remembered his own symptoms—the creeping exhaustion, the weakness, the sensation that something was pulling him away from reality itself.
Kelvin continued, his tone serious. "Those who survive The Veil can imprint parts of their memories into objects, but those memories can only be inherited by someone who has already been chosen. Someone who has already been marked."
That made sense. If The Veil was selective, then power transfer would be as well. It wasn't just about having powerful parents—it was about having the right conditions.
"So, if someone hasn't been marked," Hope murmured, "they can't receive a memory?"
Kelvin nodded. "Exactly. That's why there aren't people walking around in the waking world with the weapons or abilities of those who came before them. The inheritance can only happen after the mark appears."
Hope thought about that for a moment. It meant that power wasn't something just anyone could claim. It had to be earned.
And now, standing in The Ashlands, he was closer to understanding what that truly meant.