The remains of the Mortalis camp lay scattered around them—broken weapons, torn tents, and the scorched earth where the gate had once pulsed with Veil energy. Roland kicked aside a cracked helm, its surface stained with red ichor. There wasn’t much to salvage, but then, they weren’t looters. Their purpose here had been to close the gate and stop the corruption, not to strip the dead of their gear.

Celeste crouched beside one of the fallen wagons, running a hand over the splintered wood. Her eyes had that distant, calculating look Roland had come to recognise.

“Thinking about something?” he asked.

She stood and dusted her hands on her tunic. “Maybe. I just had an idea.”

Roland crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “No, you didn’t.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, too casually.

He smirked. “That’s your ‘I’ve been planning this for days’ face. Spill it.”

Celeste chuckled and ran a hand over her scalp. “Fine, you caught me. I was planning this, but the timing worked out perfectly.”

“For what, exactly?”

She turned toward the treeline, eyes scanning the shadows. “We need better equipment. If we’re going to keep closing gates, we can’t rely on basic steel.”

Roland glanced down at his sword. The blade was chipped from the last fight, the edge dulled after carving through corrupted bark and brittle bone. “Fair point. But how do we fix that?”

“By finding an entrance to a World tree Labyrinth.”

He frowned. “A labyrinth? I've heard of them, but never seen one. Aren’t they...dangerous?”

“Very,” she said, smiling faintly. “But they’re also full of potential. Labyrinths are isolated sections of the Veil. We can enter them just like we would a gate.”

“How does a piece of the Veil become...isolated?”

Celeste’s eyes gleamed. “Labyrinths form when passages decay or are forcibly separated from the Veil network. The roots of the World tree act like veins, carrying divine energy through the realms. When one of those veins is severed, the energy still lingers, trapped and unstable.”

Realisation dawned on Roland. “Viridara’s World tree was attacked during the wars.”

“Exactly. When the old tree was destroyed, its rebirth left parts of the Veil disconnected. Those severed sections formed labyrinths all over the region. Dangerous, yes—but also full of resources.”

Roland rubbed his jaw, still not entirely connecting the dots. “And that helps us how?”

“Divine energy,” Celeste said simply. “Without a stable source, divine energy crystallises over time. World tree Labyrinths are filled with crystallised essence. And that essence is the foundation for Veil-forged equipment.”

He whistled softly. “You mean the stuff the old Veil Keepers used? The enchanted blades, reinforced armor... all that?”

“Exactly.” Celeste grinned. “Divine essence is what smiths use to forge weapons that resonate with Veil energy. Stronger, lighter, and, more importantly, resistant to corruption.”

Roland’s mind raced. He’d heard of such equipment in stories—blades that cleaved through shadows, shields that repelled magical attacks with ease. The idea of wielding such gear made the task ahead feel less impossible.

“Alright,” he said. “How do we find one of these labyrinths?”

Celeste tilted her head toward the forest. “I just happen to know a place.”

He sheathed his sword and adjusted his pack. “of course you do. That quite convenient” He said sarcastically.

With Celeste guiding and Roland watching for signs of Veil disturbances, they moved into the trees.

Hours passed as they tracked the faint traces of Veil energy through the forest. The ground beneath their feet grew softer, the roots beneath the soil thrumming with dormant potential. Celeste paused abruptly and knelt, pressing her palm against the earth. Her brow furrowed in concentration.

“The connection’s here,” she said, glancing up. “But I can’t open it.”

Roland stepped closer. “Why not?”

“It’s a World tree labyrinth,” Celeste explained. “The roots answer to the Worldborn. My prayers can only reveal it—not open it.” She gestured for him to kneel beside her. “It has to be you.”

Roland swallowed hard and placed his hand on the cool, damp soil. The pulse beneath his palm quickened, like a slumbering heart responding to a familiar touch.

“Now repeat after me,” Celeste instructed, voice low.

Roland took a steadying breath and spoke:

"Worldtree, keeper of earthen thread,

Wake the paths the lost ones dread.

Where roots have torn and paths are frayed,

Reveal where Veil and earth decayed."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

The ground trembled. Glowing green veins spread from beneath his palm, weaving through the soil like cracks in glass. The lines converged on a moss-covered boulder a few feet away. The stone groaned, split with a deep crack, and slowly slid aside, revealing a spiralling tunnel of twisted roots. A cold breeze wafted upward, carrying the scent of ancient wood and lingering Veil energy.

Roland opened his eyes and smiled. “Found it.”

The boulder split with a low groan, revealing a dark, spiralling tunnel beneath. A faint pulse of divine energy seeped from the entrance, crackling through the air like static before a storm.

Roland tightened his grip on his sword. “Well... after you.”

Celeste grinned. “Coward.”

“Cautious,” he corrected. “Now let's go find ourselves some divine essence.”

They stepped into the labyrinth, and immediately, Roland realized it was nothing like he had imagined. He had expected a cave—dark, damp, and earthy—or perhaps something like the Veil itself, where the world shimmered with ethereal light. But this place was neither. The air felt thin, hollow, as if sound itself was being swallowed. Everything around them—walls, roots, even the ground beneath their feet—was a strange, lifeless grey.

Roland frowned and ran a hand along a nearby root, its surface brittle, as if it had been drained of life. “What is this place?”

Celeste moved cautiously beside him, eyes scanning the shadows. “A dying fragment,” she murmured. “Without a source of divine energy, the roots and walls are decaying. Be careful—some parts might collapse.”

Before Roland could respond, a low, chittering growl echoed through the silence. He turned just in time to see something skitter toward them from the shadows—a hunched, six-legged creature covered in patchy brown fur, its elongated jaws lined with jagged teeth. It moved with unsettling speed, lunging at Roland before he could fully react.

Instinct took over. He raised his sword just as the creature leapt. The blade met flesh with a sickening crunch, cutting deep through its side. The creature let out a strangled hiss before collapsing, twitching as blood seeped into the floor.

Roland exhaled sharply and kicked the body aside. “What in the Tex was that?”

Celeste knelt beside the corpse, prodding it with the tip of her dagger. “Veil-lings.” Her expression darkened. “Creatures that lost their way in the Veil. Normally, living things pass through the Veil when travelling between worlds. But some get... stuck. They stay too long, get Veil drunk, and instead of moving on, they start feeding off whatever divine energy they can find. They have become part of the Veil ecosystem”

Roland grimaced. “So this thing was feeding on the dying roots?”

She nodded. “And now that the energy is running out, they’re getting desperate.” She stood, glancing warily at the darkness ahead. “We should move. Where there’s one Veil-ling, there are usually more.”

Roland tightened his grip on his sword. “Great. Let’s hope they’re not too hungry.”

Before they could leave, Celeste crouched beside the fallen creature, pulling a small, curved blade from her belt. With practiced efficiency, she began cutting into the Veil-ling’s hide.

Roland frowned. “We’re stopping to skin the thing?”

“Not just skin,” Celeste muttered as she carefully removed a set of razor-sharp claws. “Veil-lings refine divine energy when they feed on it. That means their bodies become valuable crafting materials.” She held up the claws, which gleamed faintly in the dim light. “These can be used to make reinforced armor—light, but stronger than steel. And their hides, if treated right, can hold Veil energy for months.”

She made another incision, extracting a dark, gland-like organ near the creature’s stomach. A faint shimmer pulsed through it. “And this? Pure, condensed Veil essence. Alchemists would kill for one of these.”

Roland watched, slightly uneasy as she worked. “So you’ve done this before?”

Celeste shot him a knowing grin. “A long time ago. What, you think I’ve been running around closing gates with basic equipment? The best Veil Keepers know how to use whatever the Veil gives them.” She tucked the harvested materials into a small pouch. “Besides, if we’re looking to craft better weapons, we’re going to need all the divine materials we can get.”

Roland exhaled and glanced into the looming darkness ahead. “Fine. Just don’t ask me to carry the guts.”

Celeste chuckled. “Deal.”

With careful steps, they pressed deeper into the labyrinth, the weight of unseen eyes pressing against them from the shadows. Now, Roland wasn’t just thinking about what might be hunting them—he was wondering what else in this place could be harvested, reforged, and turned into something stronger.

They didn’t have to wait long. As they moved deeper into the labyrinth, more Veil-lings emerged from the shifting grey, drawn by the lingering divine energy that clung to them like a beacon. Roland barely had time to wipe his blade clean before the next creature lunged, this one larger, with thick, chitinous plates covering its body.

Celeste grinned. “Oh, now this is exciting.”

Roland sidestepped the attack and brought his sword down hard, but his blade barely scratched the creature’s shell. It skittered back, six legs clicking against the dying roots as it let out a low, warbling hiss.

Celeste whispered a quick prayer:

"Venom's touch, in blood be sown,

Twist the heart and break the bone."

A sickly green mist coiled from her fingers and seeped into the Veil-ling’s joints. Within moments, the creature’s movements slowed. It staggered, chittering weakly, before collapsing entirely.

Celeste knelt beside it, rapping her knuckles against its hardened shell. “This will make excellent armor. Lightweight but reinforced by divine residue. Stronger than most metals.”

She wasted no time harvesting, using her dagger to separate the outer plates. Roland kept watch as more Veil-lings lurked at the edges of the labyrinth, hesitant after witnessing the fall of their kin.

After their fifth encounter, they had more materials than they could reasonably carry. Roland hefted a pack filled with crystallized bones, chitin, and harvested claws. “Alright, I get the whole ‘use what the Veil gives you’ thing, but we’re running out of space.”

Celeste sighed, looking over their haul. “You’re right. We need to prioritize. The chitin stays—too valuable to leave behind. We can drop some of the softer hides and excess bones.”

With reluctant efficiency, they lightened their load, leaving behind anything that wouldn’t be immediately useful. They pressed forward, deeper into the labyrinth’s heart. The decaying roots thinned, giving way to a cavern-like chamber where the air buzzed with static energy.

Then they saw it—glowing green shards embedded in the walls, humming faintly with divine power.

“The crystals of Viridius,” Celeste whispered, stepping forward with reverence. She pressed her hand against the smooth surface, and Roland saw her expression shift—somewhere between wonder and deep satisfaction. “This is what we came for.”

Roland reached out and touched one of the crystals. A tingling warmth spread through his fingertips, and for a brief moment, he felt... lighter, as if the very air around him responded to his presence.

Celeste pulled out a small hammer and chisel. “Stand back. This stuff is more delicate than it looks.” With careful precision, she began extracting the crystals, catching them as they fell into her hands.

After securing several large fragments, she turned to Roland, grinning. “We did it. Our first real labyrinth dive.”

Roland let out a breath, shaking his head. “First of many, I’m guessing.”

Celeste chuckled. “Oh, absolutely.”

With their packs filled and their mission complete, they turned back the way they came, stepping over the remains of Veil-lings and fading roots. The labyrinth may have been dying, but for them, it had given exactly what they needed—materials to grow stronger, and proof that they could survive what lay ahead.