Born In The Veil Novels & Stories

“Please. Tell me all of it. I don’t care how ugly it is. I just want to stand in it with you.” Baylee felt herself cracking. She almost told him. She almost said: — Sometimes at night I feel the scar watching me. — Sometimes I feel something old flicker behind my eyes when I look too long at the dark line where Jade tore through. — Sometimes I feel like the Veil knows I’m still alive and is waiting for me to open the door again. She almost told him the worst part: — Sometimes I don’t think the humming under the ground is the Veil. Sometimes I think it’s the baby.

I was trying really hard not to cry and was failing terribly. I move to the stepping stool right in front of the mirror. While Nora and Kim are wowing over the look, my eyes are glued to myself in the mirror. It’s beautiful. Not the casual type of beautiful. The type of beautiful that Bentley Brown described in the room my grandma died last Christmas Eve. “It comes with a custom-made veil,” the designer chimes, getting the veil and putting my hair into an updo to get it in. The veil is a thin, stainlessly white and long net, far broader than my dress, flowing behind me. I grab the edges of the veil to adjust it slightly so that it could be seen more from the front while actively suppressing

I was free. The veil was cold and soft and welcoming as I fell inside and into the darkness forever. ***

“And what are my duties? Breathing quietly? Staying pretty? Pretending I wasn’t dragged here?” Violet’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you make everything difficult?” I laughed. “Because I can.” Her voice sharpened slightly. “You are in a powerful man’s home. You are safe. You have food. You have clothing. You have—” “A locked gate,” I interrupted. “A missing phone. A wing you’re scared of. And a room that someone can enter without opening the door.” The last part made her blink. Just once. A crack. Then her mask returned. “You’re imagining things.”

I knew this veil. Not from this store, not from this morning. From years of waking up reaching for something that was not there. From a sketch I had made so many times that the paper had worn thin in the same places each time, the sweep of tulle, the way it moved in a wind that only existed in dreams, the particular quality of the light coming through it. From a prophecy delivered by a woman who did not waste words, who had looked at me across a fire and told me that my bride would find me behind a veil and that she alone could break what was destroying me. The veil was exactly right.

Her gaze drifted, lost somewhere far in memory. “When I was born, I had a sickness—the Veilrot Fever. It drained a person’s mana until nothing remained. Back then, it was incurable. My parents were desperate; they searched every realm for a cure, summoned healers, begged witches—but nothing worked. I was fading fast.”

A woman dressed in a veil over her face gets out and makes her way to where the nurse is seated by the back door. “Madam, please get out, I need to speak to you,” she commanded. The midwife steps out hurriedly under the authority that emanates from her assailant's voice. They walk some distance away from the car, out of earshot of the driver. “Within this very suitcase is two million dollars! With this wealth at your fingertips, Human Town will become a comfortable haven for you!" the woman in the veil suggested." During the birthing process of the woman you are about to assist, I'll be waiting by the window at the rear of the room. Simply pass me over to the firstborn pup. Don't worry, my

her stylist announces. “Never seen a bride this beautiful,” I gush, taking a picture of her. “Thank you, baby, thank you Niphme for taking your time to make me look this good.” “You are welcome, ma’am; we will be on our way,” she says, placing a veil over Mother’s head before she and her team walk out. “Mother, please can you do me a favor?” “Sure. What is it?” “Can you give Chiara your flowers when it is time to throw the bouquet?”