Chapter 130: Passing into the Veil
The Veil did not open like a door. It cracked and splintered open like ancient glass beneath too much weight. The path into the Dead Valley groaned as if the world itself resented being split.
Isla felt it in her spine first, then in the marrow of her bones. Her pendant glowed so brightly she had to close her fingers around it. Beneath her skin, the pulse of something far older than even the Veyra thudded with rising insistence.
“She’s reacting to it,” Lucia said, stepping closer. “To the rift.”
Damian stayed at Isla’s side, teeth clenched. “If it hurts her, we stop.”
“No,” Isla said through shallow breath. “She’s not afraid. Neither am I.”
The group stood at the edge of a basin sunken into the valley floor, its center a chasm filled with black mist that spun and swirled like a living thing. Brienne had gone eerily still and Marcus stilled behind her, her eyes turned inward, as though listening to something the rest could not hear.
“They’re speaking again,” Brienne murmured, almost too quiet.
“Who?” Leo asked, scanning the shadows for movement.
“The Umbrazin ancestors. The ones beyond the Veil.” Vincent’s voice was stronger, though it quivered. “They know us.”
“Then what do they want?” Alaine asked.
“To remember,” Brienne whispered. “And for us to choose.”
Before anyone could speak, the mist parted with a sigh.
A second figure emerged,not smoke, but flesh. Human. yet... not. She had no shadow. Her presence was cold and crystalline, her skin pale with veins of silver running beneath. Her hair was bone white, and her eyes shimmered a luminous gray that reflected everyone who looked into them.
Isla recognized her, though they had never met.
“You’re one of the Sombrosi,” Isla breathed.
“No,” the woman replied. “I am what they fear.”
Lucia took a step forward, tense. “You wear their markings.”
“I was Veyra once,” the woman said, “before the Sombrosi bled through the cracks of our realm. Before they corrupted the Umbrazin temples and bound our kin to sleep.”
“Why are you here?” Damian asked, his hand hovering near the hilt of his blade.
“To warn you,” she said simply. “The third bloodline, the Umbrazin, was never meant to die. The Veil was created to contain them, not destroy them. But time twisted purpose, and now it festers. Your child will unseal what was meant to remain locked.”
Brienne stepped forward, her voice sharp. “So what, you want us to stop her? Silence the girl before she’s even born?”
“No.” The woman’s gaze shifted to Isla, softening. “I want her to survive it.”
The mist rippled again. Behind the woman, shadows moved, not monsters, but people. Dozens, maybe hundreds. Pale-faced like her. Some with Veyra markings, others Umbrazin, all standing still, waiting.
“Who are they?” Isla asked.
“Remnants,” she replied. “Dreamers caught between. They will rise with her or perish in the collapse. It is the child’s choice, and yours.”
Suddenly, the earth shook.
From the east side of the valley, a scream echoed, inhuman, furious, and full of pain. Cassian.
“Damn it,” Rohen muttered. “He’s here.”
The figure looked up, startled. “You must go. Now. The Veil is weakest here.”
Damian wrapped his arm around Isla. “We’re not leaving without answers.”
“You already have them,” the woman said. “But if you stay, you’ll face more than Cassian. You’ll face what’s been waiting.”
“Let them come,” Marcus said coldly.
Isla stepped forward, heart pounding. “What happens if I cross?”
The woman looked at her, eyes unreadable. “You’ll see your ancestors. You’ll see your daughter. But not all who cross come back unchanged.”
Isla turned to Damian. “I have to do this.”
“I know,” he said, jaw clenched. “Just… come back to me.”
She kissed him, then stepped toward the Veil.
Lucia stopped her just before she reached it. “Wait.” Rohen looked at them both with quiet observance,
making sure that all that was unfolding would keep them united. How growing protective instincts towards not only Isla but Lucia were becoming more obvious by the day.
She reached into her cloak and removed a narrow, obsidian dagger with Veyra runes etched into the hilt.
“This belonged to the last priestess of the Unseen Order,” she said, placing it in Isla’s hand. “She passed the trial. You might need it.”
The mist pulled at Isla like a tide.
She stepped in and the world fell silent.
Everything was black.
Not dark but black like a silence without weight and a night without stars.
Then light shone past
A single, golden thread stretched before her. She walked. With each step, memories bloomed around her like ink in water: a crying infant cradled by shadows, a woman with golden eyes screaming into a storm, a wolf with white fur standing atop a battlefield soaked in blood.
She was all of them. She was none of them and then, her.
A girl no older than five. Hair dark as ink, eyes like lightning. She stood in a field of endless dusk, just waiting.
“You’re my daughter,” Isla whispered, stunned.
The girl nodded.
“Are you real?”
“I’m what will be,” she said. “Unless they stop me.”
“Who?”
“The ones who call themselves the old gods. The ones who sealed the Umbrazin. They fear what I will awaken.”
“Then what do I do?” Isla asked. “How do I protect you?”
The girl smiled. “You already are.”
The thread of gold snapped and the Veil closed its tentacles around Isla’s body and legs. She had enough time to snatch out her dagger and cut them off her body. The Veil then spat her back into the world as if disgusted by her actions.
Isla collapsed into Damian’s arms, gasping.
“What happened?” he asked urgently.
“She spoke to me,” Isla whispered. “She’s real. She’s watching.”
Lucia and the others stepped closer.
Brienne’s voice trembled. “What did she say?”
Isla looked up, her golden eyes glowing with new intensity.
“She said… the gods are not gods. They’re liars and she’s going to break their world open.”