Broken Veil Novels & Stories

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.

The Veil didn’t shatter—it sloughed away, layer by layer, like peeling skin beneath a relentless sun. Autumn stepped through the fractured surface of the mirror, the violet flame still dancing fervently around her dagger. Instantly, the familiar room dissolved into nothingness, replaced by an atmosphere thick and brittle, reminiscent of glass poised on the brink of splintering.

I asked as I drop to my knee's and wrap my shirt around her stomach to prevent blood loss and apply pressure to the wound. "I couldn't loose you." She said faintly as she started to close her eyes. Tears started to stream from my eyes as I watched Kat endure so much pain. Especially since I know at any second she could take her last breath. "Kat no you can't close your eyes, you have to stay awake." I said as I kissed her forehead. At this point Dave and Shawn were both dead. Nate had killed them. "I love you." She whispered as her body began to loose it's life.

I barely had time to dive behind a crumbling archway half-collapsed by time, pressing myself into the shadows as the torchlight flared down the passage. Headmistress Morwen. She strode into the chamber like a storm, her robes dark as midnight, her face was filled with something else,recognition. She didn’t look around first. She went straight to the door. And she knew. Her fingers ran over the spot where I’d touched it. Her breath seized. “The veil is broken,” she whispered. “Someone… came. Again.” She stepped back, eyes scanning the dark corners of the chamber. “Show yourself.” There was silence.

The figure kneeling in the chamber laughed—a sound that split the air. Becky-thing staggered, arms thrown wide. And then she collapsed, spilling forward into the light rift. Elise stepped back, pulling the rune-shard from her hand. Saelin grabbed her. “It’s collapsing.” Violet wind tore through cracks in the black ground. The fissure split outward; the Threshold shattered. Behind, the chamber vanished. Becky-thing lay between them, breathing shallow, eyes closed—one green, one silver. Her chest rose and fell with ragged rhythm.

Splits into a dozen mirrored shapes walking across the glass like they’ve always been here, waiting. Figures made of reflection. Faces without features. Skin like liquid silver bleeding into fire. The Veilborne. No. Not them. Worse. Their god. The glass cracks under my knees. My pulse thrashes in my ears. And when the first figure stops, its voice slides into the air like a blade drawn slow: “Breaker.” The word coils around me, cold and bright, and the whole shattered realm seems to breathe with it. Kael tries to rise. He can’t. The shadows drag him down like chains, weak and shaking. I grab his arm, clutching hard enough to bruise, but his hand closes over mine before I can haul him up.

She was exorcising the ghost of her past, burning the truth of her trauma into the very walls of her new sanctuary. ​When she finished, the rough stone was covered in a dense, silent confession. She stood back, looking at the evidence of her survival. She then took the small brush she had found and swept the chalk dust clean. The stone was blank once more. The truth was acknowledged, documented, and then released. ​The moment the light began to fail, Amara knew she had to leave. Her sanctuary was private, but her duty was public. She locked the heavy oak door with the same satisfying click and began the walk back to the massive, brightly lit mansion.

Emma whispered, clutching her cloak tighter. “The boundary. The last wall between us and it.” Lucien’s smirk was gone, his eyes narrowed. Selene’s hand tightened around Rhea’s arm, her silver eyes reflecting the shatter of the Veil. “It’s breaking.” Marrow lifted his chin, unflinching even as the world itself quaked. “No. It is already broken. What waits beyond has only been waiting for the invitation.” A fissure tore wide, light spilling down in blinding threads, searing against the ash and ruin. From within the crack came a sound - not thunder, not storm, but a low, resonant whisper that pressed against their bones.

Its button eyes are sewn shut with thorny thread. "You left me," the girl says, her voice layered with a hundred whispers. "But I found you anyway." Eden steps back. "That's not the same spirit. That's a *wound*." He's right. The Veil's healing has torn open older scars, things that should've stayed buried. The girl advances, the doll's mouth unstitching to release a swarm of beetles. They click their carapaces in unison, a sound like breaking bones.