All Chapters of AWAKENING BEYOND THE VEILS : Chapter 31
- Chapter 40
59 chapters
Bridging The Gap
Riven Veredon didn’t sleep, not really. He existed between breaths, between hours — in the space where responsibility and regret tangled and suffocated.Dawn bled gray light through the tower windows as he stood overlooking Kael’s dorm from afar. He had felt it the moment the boy’s fire surged — the pulse, dark and sacred, like a heartbeat carved into the world itself.Shadowfire.For the first time in sixteen years, it stirred openly.And the world would feel it soon.His jaw tightened. “Too soon,” he murmured to the empty chamber. “He’s not ready.”A quiet knock sounded.Riven’s spine straightened. “Enter.”The door swung open, cold air sweeping in — and with it, High Consul Sereth. Silver hair coiled tight, eyes sharp as a blade hidden in velvet. She did not bow.She rarely did.“You felt it too,” she said, voice smooth but striking. “The flare.”Riven did not look away from the window. “I did.”“Another incident from your… apprentice.”Her tone disguised nothing. Concern. Pressure
A Shadow Stirs
Far from the Academy — beyond mountains carved by old magic and rivers that remembered blood — night rolled over the Wastes like a living thing.Nothing grew here. Nothing dared.The ground cracked in jagged scars, as though something beneath had clawed at the world and nearly broken free long ago. The sky was bruised, stars swallowed by thick, restless clouds.And in the center of that desolate stretch stood ruins — the bones of an ancient fortress, broken towers jutting like teeth from the earth.For years, they had been silent.Tonight, they breathed again.A ripple — thin as a whisper — passed through the air. The dust stirred, lifting in slow spirals. Cracks glowed faintly as if embers waited beneath the stone.Then a voice, low and cold, cut through the stillness:“Sixteen years… and at last, the spark awakens again.”Footsteps sounded across the broken courtyard — soft, deliberate. A figure cloaked in black walked among the shattered pillars, shadow trailing like liquid smoke.
Eyes In The Quiet
Kael woke before the sun.Not suddenly — not with panic or a gasp — but the way a person does when they’ve been lying still for hours, caught between sleep and thinking, waiting for morning to save them.His room was dim, pale dawn smudging the window. His blanket felt too heavy, like someone had draped stone over his chest in the night. Sweat clung to his skin, though the air was cold.He didn’t remember dreaming.He only remembered… being watched.That prickle at the back of the neck.That sensation of something standing just behind you in an empty room.That breath you don't hear, but your bones swear is there.He pushed up slowly, rubbing a hand across his face. His fingers brushed damp hair, and his pulse jumped.How long had he been awake without realizing it?He glanced around the dorm — same narrow bed, same small desk, same cracked ceiling tile he kept meaning to fix. Everything was in place. Quiet. Ordinary.Nothing was wrong.Except everything was.He swung his legs down, f
Shadows In The Quiet
Riven did not sleep that night.He sat in his quarters, elbows on his desk, staring at the slow curl of steam rising from a cup of tea long gone cold.His magic hummed quietly beneath his skin, sharp and restless. Not angry—just awake. Alert. It had been ever since the runes on the temple ruins flared yesterday. Ever since Kael touched them.And ever since Riven felt that pulse — that ancient note vibrating through the air like a chord struck across worlds.He had felt it once before.On a battlefield, surrounded by screaming and fire.He shut the memory out before it could drag him under.A soft knock broke the silence.Orien’s voice came through, calm but clipped. “You’re still awake.”Riven didn’t turn. “You are too.”The door slid open. Orien stepped inside, robes soft and pale in the faint dawn light. Tired shadows sat under his eyes.“You sensed it?” he asked quietly.Riven’s jaw tightened. He didn’t need to ask what it was.“Yes.”Orien’s breath left him like he had hoped—deepl
Those Little Things
Kael didn’t go to breakfast.He couldn’t stand the noise. The clatter. The laughing. The normal.Normal felt like a lie now.Instead he sat by the lake behind the training grounds — the one with still water that held the sky like it didn’t trust anyone else to keep it safe. He hugged his knees to his chest, chin resting on his arms, watching dawn light ripple on the surface.His reflection flickered. For a moment, the water didn’t show him at all — only black flame curling like ink in water.He blinked.Gone.Maybe he was imagining things. Maybe exhaustion was chewing holes in his mind. He hadn’t slept, not really, but he didn’t feel tired. He felt wired. Like something humming inside him wouldn’t shut off.Like the fire had a heartbeat.And it was waiting.He dragged a stone across the surface. The ripples shimmered… and whispered.It wasn’t an accident.His mother’s voice, soft and breaking.Kael squeezed his eyes shut hard.It hurt to remember her face.It hurt worse to think he mi
Shadows before the council
Kael felt the air change before the knock came. The night outside the dormitory window was still, heavy with fog that pressed against the glass like breath. Inside, the candle on his desk had burned itself to a stub, the wax pooled and hardened. He’d been staring at it for hours, unable to make himself move. Sleep had become a stranger. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw fire. Then came the knock—three short raps, measured and cold. He knew that rhythm. Sentinels. He stood slowly. His body ached with the dull, lingering burn from training, but the sound in the corridor dragged something deeper—dread, old and quiet, like the echo of a heartbeat he’d tried to forget. When the door opened, two Sentinels filled the doorway, their silver armor catching the candlelight. Their helms reflected his face back at him: pale, hollow-eyed, unshaven. “Kael Ardyn,” one said, voice metallic, unreadable. “By order of the Council, you are to come with us immediately.” His stomach dropped. “Wh
The Veil's Warning
The first thing Kael felt was cold. Not the ordinary kind that lived in winter stone, but something heavier, crawling into his skin as if it wanted to take root there. His breath came out in short, uneven clouds that hung in the air above him, refusing to fade. When he finally forced his eyes open, darkness pressed close from all sides. The faint glimmer of runes etched into the walls pulsed like veins beneath the surface, faintly blue, faintly alive. He tried to move, but iron cuffs locked his wrists to the chair. His fingers tingled with a faint hum of Shadowfire beneath the skin — restless, waiting. A cell. The Council’s doing, no doubt. The last thing he remembered was the confrontation in the east courtyard, the Sentinels dragging him away while Riven shouted something he couldn’t hear. Then, nothing. Now there was only silence. He exhaled, a slow measured breath. “They really did it,” he muttered under his breath. “They actually locked me up.” The walls didn’t answer. Fo
The Weight Of Origin
Kael's Pov The last thing I remembered was darkness engulfing my vision some time after my conversation with riven. Darkness held me for a moment that felt like floating—weightless, silent, painless. Somewhere far away, someone was pulling me across stone, hands hooked beneath my arms. Cold air brushed my skin. My heartbeat pounded back into existence. Then the world snapped into focus. I gasped. Riven was dragging me through a narrow passage carved between ancient walls, his runes flickering wild shadows along the cramped stone. “Kael,” he hissed, breathless. “Stay awake. You have to stay awake.” My head throbbed as memories returned in jagged flashes—the Veil door, the sigil from my dreams, the Shadowfire exploding out of me like a living storm. And Riven’s last words before everything went white: You weren’t born of Shadowfire. You were made for it. My voice scraped out, raw and uncertain. “What… happened?” Riven didn’t look at me. He was sweating, shaking, his
Escape into Ashes
The world snapped back into existence with a sound like tearing cloth.Shadows peeled apart and spit me out onto uneven stone. I stumbled forward, landing hard on one knee as the air around me crackled with fading magic. The portal closed behind us in a violent ripple, leaving the tunnel in near-total darkness.Riven collapsed against the far wall the instant the rift sealed.“Riven!” I scrambled toward him.His breath hitched. He didn’t answer immediately—not because he was ignoring me, but because he couldn’t. His runes flickered violently along his skin, bright one moment, guttering the next, like dying embers struggling to stay lit.He pressed one trembling hand to his side.Blood seeped between his fingers.“Gods,” I whispered. “You’re bleeding.”“Portal strain,” he rasped, though the pain in his voice made it sound like a lie even he didn’t believe. “Not… fatal.”The damn portal had nearly ripped him apart.I braced a hand on his shoulder. “We need to stop the bleed—”“No.” He s
Lyra's Choice
The ruins were colder than the night around them.Broken stone arches leaned like bent ribs over the blackened field, and the wind sang through hollow cracks in a low, mournful whistle. I lowered Riven onto what used to be a stairway platform, barely intact, and dropped to my knees beside him. He was pale—too pale—and every shallow breath he took made something inside my chest twist painfully.“Stay with me,” I whispered, pressing my hand against the wound in his side. My fingers came away slick and warm. “Riven, don’t—don’t you dare stop breathing.”His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t answer.Shadowfire stirred inside me, coiling hot and agitated around my ribs. It reacted to fear. It always reacted to fear.But this time, I didn’t try to calm it.I needed it. I needed anything that would keep Riven alive.I pulled him closer, lifting his head into my lap. “You told me not to lose you,” I murmured. “So don’t make me break that promise.”The world blurred at the edges. Exhaustion rol