Veilstone City Novels & Stories

“She doesn’t want to be found. Nythis said she buried herself when the Voices fell apart.” “She buried herself in anger,” Lyselle added. “And flame. She blamed me… blamed all of us.” Kael adjusted his pack. “And we’re just walking into her domain?” Aria smirked. “We’ve done worse.” They pressed on. --- The city of Vhar’Zeth rose like a wound from the land. Carved from obsidian and fire-forged stone, its towers bled smoke into the skies. The walls pulsed with residual heat, as though the city itself was alive — breathing, waiting.

That realization hits me harder than any prophecy ever could. I stop on a rooftop overlooking Vireholt, the city stretched out below me in layers of shadow and light. Built of black stone and silver veins, it rises in jagged spires along the river like a crown too sharp to wear comfortably. The streets flow faintly, runes embedded in the stone pulsing with old vampiric magic meant to ward, watch, and warn. Vampires are waking. Wolves are restless. Humans are pretending they don’t notice either. And somewhere—far beyond the city walls—I feel a pressure.

"The lost capital of the First Shifters. Legend said it was swallowed by the earth during the Great Cleansing, but it wasn't swallowed. It was exiled." "It’s beautiful," Thane remarked, his hand never leaving the hilt of his blade, "but it smells like the Weaver. Be careful where you step." As we descended into the city streets, the violet veins on my arm pulsed violently. I felt a pull toward the center, toward a spire that rose higher than the rest, topped with a crown of dark, swirling energy. "The Abyss Throne," I murmured. "It's there."

Mr Richard has specific… standards. “Standards,” I repeated, tasting the word. “So do prisons.” Her eyes sharpened. “You’re free to move around the mansion grounds, Miss Hailey.” “Free,” I echoed, stepping closer. “Is the gate open?” Silence. There it was. The real answer. I leaned in slightly, smiling with no warmth. “Tell Damien his breakfast can choke him.” Violet’s gaze flicked once toward the stairs, then back to me, like she was deciding whether to treat me like a threat or a tantrum.

Charlie stepped toward it and felt her skin prickle, the same electric pressure she felt before a storm breaks. "What is that?" she whispered. "A ward," Wren said. "My mother specializes in them." "You didn't mention she's a witch." "She's not." Charlie gave him a look. "Wren, this is witch behavior." "She's... something else." Before she could demand clarification, Wren lifted his hand and pressed his palm to the veil. The barrier rippled like disturbed water, then parted, revealing a narrow passage of swirling silver light. Wren gestured. "After you."

Pera moaned into his mouth, hips jerking as she came hard and fast on his hand, gushing around his digits. They kept moving, but Kane’s men were relentless. Hours of cat-and-mouse through the forest left them exhausted and bloodied. They finally reached an old industrial warehouse on the city outskirts — one of Marcus’s last hidden assets. They barricaded the heavy doors and windows, then tended to wounds under dim emergency lights.

“One tied to the old gods. It’s called the Veilstone. Legends say it has the power to tear the fabric between realms, to let things through that should never exist here.” Aria’s mind raced. She’d heard whispers of the Veilstone in ancient texts, dismissed as myth by most scholars. But if Veyron had it… “Why should I believe you?” she asked, narrowing her eyes. “For all I know, this could be another one of his traps.” The rogue leader laughed, the sound sharp and bitter. “You think I’d risk my neck coming here, unarmed, just to feed you lies? If Veyron knew I was here, I’d already be dead. He doesn’t leave loose ends.”

Because I knew what waited once she stepped outside the ruins. The outer perimeter flared. A whisper of light. Barely a flicker. My blood froze. Not an attack. Not a scout. A survey sigil. Thornveil-coded. Elegant. Invasive. Laced with the kind of containment logic you only used when trying to collar something dangerous without alerting it first. They weren’t here for a fight. They were mapping the cage. I moved toward the wardline, fists clenched. Maelin was here. And she was watching.

Her eyes widen, but she nods, her aura steadying me, a silent promise. Before the standoff breaks, a rift pulses, its void roaring, and the plain trembles, the twin suns dimming. Aelys’s aura surges, her voice a hymn. “The Veil’s here!” She leads us forward, the map glowing, and we reach the radiant vale—a basin of crystal and light, the First Ones’ city glowing within, its spires pulsing with Veil-energy. But a barrier shimmers, its aura a black star, Overveil-touched, its pulse warping the vale’s light.

Even if he were much more powerful than he was currently, it would be impossible to detect the aura had he missed it. James vanished and reappeared outside the city where he sensed Jabari’s aura. He looked ahead at the ancient-looking city. The city looked very old and was large. The city gate alone was hundreds of thousands of meters high. There were not many buildings in the city, only some majestic spiritual mountains that towered into the sky and radiated exceptionally strong energy. On the tall city gate were a few mysterious inscriptions engraved—Boundless Holy Land. The Boundless Welkin’s cornerstone was the Boundless Holy Land. Many of Boundless Welkin’s powerhouses settled around th