Veil Over Eyes Novels & Stories

Jagged, a scar cut on her skin, running from her head, darting through her left eye brow and stopped below her eyes which made me wonder what kind of animal or weapon marked her face at such a delicate area. Behind her were three other girls, standing gallantly like bodyguards and everyone who passed bowed for them respectfully as if she's the god of the prison while some quickened their steps fearfully as if they just sighted trouble. “I'm sorry." I said, my voice was a bit shaky. She stared at me for a while before a smile suddenly crossed her rigid face. Even her smile looks scary. It could make a baby wet his diaper. “Do you like what you just touch?" She spoke, her voice croaking, be

he invites, his tone laced with a calm authority. For a brief moment, she hesitates, the weight of uncertainty hanging in the air between them. But then, drawn by an inexplicable trust, she places her hand into his, feeling the warmth of his grip as he gently guides her out. The world around them is alive with the sweet whispers of nature, the faint floral scent wrapping around her like a delicate shawl. Yet, before she can fully take in the vibrant hues of the blooming landscape, he produces a silky blindfold from his pocket.

First, the veil. From a hidden pocket sewn into the waistband of my trousers—a precaution they had missed in their rough search—I pulled a small glass vial. It was cool to the touch. Inside, a liquid swirled like mist and oil, holding shadows within it. A Mirage Veil potion. Expensive. Rare. Given to me weeks ago by a hooded figure in the market: a man who owed my father a debt and who understood the new order I would bring. “For when the walls have eyes,” the man had whispered, pressing the vial into my hand.

I brush along it with my eyes, and I understand: only one who does not look down may cross. I close my eyes and trust the direction of the sound. Step in. The bridge doesn’t sway, doesn’t creak, there is no sense of falling beneath—only absence, where even the weight of one’s body is forgotten. The sound is close now—two steps, maybe three. I open my eyes: a wall of glass stands before me. It cannot be seen—only when my palm presses to it does the mist reveal it, leaving a mark. Beyond it, movement: an arm, not mine, darker than the dark, gently lifting something. A small body. The strip of the Veil glimmers silver in the half-light.

That was the first time Izzat was reciprocating her intense gaze. Thalia quickly put a distance between the two of them and lowered her head in embarrassment. Her face reddened. The red color spread out to the tip of her ears and the back of her slender neck. "What do you mean by that, Thalia? See what?" Rather than answering her question, Izzat pretended he didn't understand Thalia's inquiry. "Those black and hazy mist that surrounds Lim's body this entire time. You saw them, right? Just like me."

she said, not an ounce of fear in her eyes. "You don't have to attack me like that. I will not take this insolence from you, we both want something from each other, both a means to an end so you will not talk to me like I'm some sort of dirty dog while you are the saint" I fired back at her. She looked at me for a long time. Her face softened with each passing second. Finally, she laughed and shook her head, removing the shawl that was wrapped around her. She was wearing a veil underneath, one that made me wonder why she had the shawl in the first place.

"There's no more time." The veil is heavy. It's even heavier than the dress. Or maybe it isn't heavy at all. Maybe I'm so tired that it's making them feel heavy. I can't see much through the veil. I see their faces but not much else. The embroidery on the veil won't let me. I feel claustrophobic. I'm breathing heavily. My face is suddenly very warm. I can't breathe or think in this thing.

She explained, “The k’tai is for focus.” “What do you mean?” He was still staring and nearly in shock. He was beginning to feel the need to hold her again. He held out his arms and she sat back down. He held her tightly. “I spend much of my time in deep prayer and meditation. The veil helps me to focus inward and push away the outer world. That is what Cuia meant for young girls and ladies to do. We must focus inwardly to understand the world around us and to find our true selves. If ever I take it off in front a young man, he will be the one I have chosen.”

“Veils? Minthe, our pack rituals do not use veils. That is a human custom from the old lands. Why would we—“ “Because veils have always been used for brides, haven’t they?” I cut him off, my voice steady, layered with a dark, deliberate precision. “In the human world, the veil hides the bride’s face until the very moment the vows are spoken. It keeps the identity hidden until it is too late to change anyone’s mind. I want it to be exactly the same for this ceremony.” I let go of his hands, stepping back as the full layout of my plan crystallizes in my mind.

I murmur. It’s a lie. A weak one. Because I know exactly what this is. And I know exactly why it’s happening. My gaze lifts slowly, catching my reflection—eyes sharper than usual, something darker flickering beneath the surface, something that hasn’t fully shown itself in a very long time. Not since before— No. I cut that thought off immediately. I don’t go there. Not now. Not ever. Instead, I turn. And my eyes land on the shower. Simple.