Roland awoke with a start, gasping for air as his heart hammered in his chest. The dream had felt so real—too real. The clash of steel still echoed in his ears, accompanied by the monstrous growls of the colossal beasts. Sir Geld’s face hovered in his mind, his final moments replaying like a cruel echo. The old knight’s sacrifice, the look of calm acceptance before the end—Roland couldn’t escape it. Each time he closed his eyes, the battlefield returned with vivid clarity: blood-soaked earth, the crackle of dying magic, and Sir Geld’s broken body.

He lay there, drenched in sweat, the sting of helplessness gnawing at him. The nightmare faded, leaving behind only the heavy ache of loss. Roland’s breath steadied as his mind sought a shred of peace, but the restlessness remained.

Minutes passed before he drifted into a fitful sleep. This time, the dream changed. He saw the Veil itself—vast, dark, broken. Through its fractures, colossal creatures emerged, monstrous and wild, locked in savage combat. They were titans of flesh and power, their roars like earthquakes.

One beast, larger than the others, moved like a living mountain. Its limbs, thick as castle towers, swung with devastating force. The ground cracked beneath its steps. Opposing it stood figures of shimmering light—Lightborn, Lifeborn, and Starborn—defenders of the Veil. Divine energy crackled through the air as they fought with grace and ferocity. Bolts of radiant power lanced the colossal’s hide, but it kept coming. Claws ripped through enchanted armor; bodies fell.

The screams lingered in Roland’s mind, sharp and unyielding. The battle seemed endless—a reminder of the price of broken Veil Keeper oaths.

As the dream threatened to consume him, a voice pierced the chaos.

"Roland."

His eyes snapped open. The room blurred as he gasped for breath, every muscle taut. It took a moment to orient himself. The temple’s brazier crackled softly nearby. Celeste stood beside him, hand on his shoulder, her brow furrowed.

"You were screaming," she said softly, her voice a steady anchor in the storm. "Are you alright?"

Roland swallowed, his throat dry. "The battle," he rasped. "The colossal monsters… they were tearing through the Veil like the world was coming apart."

Celeste’s eyes darkened with recognition. "Solarium Crossing," she murmured. "I remember that battle."

"What was it?" Roland asked, sitting up. "What happened there?"

Celeste folded her legs beneath her, settling opposite him. The fire’s light cast flickering shadows across her blue-scaled skin. "The battle you saw was the final clash of the Veil Keeper Wars. Solarium Crossing was supposed to be the Shadowborn’s last stand against the Lightborn and their allies. But... something went terribly wrong."

Roland leaned forward, muscles tense. "What went wrong?"

"The Shadowborn tried to shut down the primary Veil entrance to Solarium," she explained. "It was their only hope of stopping reinforcements. If they'd succeeded, Solarium would have fallen, and the war would have turned in their favour."

Her hand traced the cold stone table. "But as they activated the Veil Gate, something… happened. We still don’t know why. The colossal guardians—those titanic creatures you saw—lost control. All of them."

Roland’s breath caught. "On both sides?"

Celeste nodded grimly. "Yes. Shadowborn colossals, Lightborn colossals—it didn’t matter. They all went feral. The gods themselves couldn’t reach them. One moment, they were divine instruments of war. The next... mindless forces of destruction."

The memory flickered in her eyes. "We fought to stop them. The Lightborn, Lifeborn, and Starborn combined their strength to bring the colossals down. But the cost was unbearable. Entire legions were annihilated. In the end, the Lightborn sacrificed many of their own to end the chaos. We won, but it wasn’t victory. It was survival."

The room fell into heavy silence.

"What happened afterward?" Roland asked.

"The war ended," Celeste replied. "Neither side had the strength to continue. The remaining Lightborn, Lifeborn, and Starborn retreated to their homeworlds. The surviving colossals, like Fang, hid in forgotten places or within the Veil itself. The gods sealed the gates to Solarium and imposed new restrictions on the Veil Keepers."

Roland ran his thumb over the Veil Keeper badge. "So there are more colossals out there?"

"Yes," Celeste said. "Fang is just a baby. The others—some are dormant. Some never regained their minds. And some were corrupted beyond saving. If one of those corrupted colossals ever broke free, they could rip open the Veil and reignite the war."

Roland’s jaw tightened. The memory of the dream, of the colossal’s relentless power, clawed at his resolve. "And I’m supposed to help stop that."

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"Yes." Celeste’s voice softened. "You’ve sworn your Oath. When you grow stronger, you’ll step into the Veil proper. Only then will you understand its true nature—and the forces that want to control it again."

After breakfast, Roland followed Celeste through the temple’s winding halls, his footsteps echoing softly against the stone. The air grew cooler as they descended a narrow passageway lit by faintly glowing vines that pulsed with a gentle green light.

Celeste led the way, her steps confident. "This passage goes deep beneath the temple," she explained without turning around. "It was carved centuries ago, back when the Veil Keepers were still active here."

Roland’s eyes traced the intricate patterns on the walls—etched symbols that seemed to shift and shimmer in the dim light. "And where exactly are we going?" he asked.

"You’ll see soon enough," Celeste said with a playful smile.

The passage opened into a vast chamber, dominated by an enormous gate embedded in the far wall. It stood easily three stories high, covered in twisting roots of stone and metal. Strange symbols adorned its surface, forming an intricate pattern that seemed to pulse faintly in time with Roland’s own heartbeat.

"This," Celeste said, gesturing toward the gate, "is the primary entry to Viridara through the Veil. Fang has been assigned to guard it."

Roland took a cautious step forward, the gate's sheer presence pressing against his senses. "It’s... massive, how does Fang get down here?" he murmured.

"There is another tunnel but I’ve kept it closed for today," Celeste replied, folding her arms. "Normally, this gate stays sealed. But today, we’re going to unseal it—just a crack—and you’ll step into the Veil for the first time."

Roland’s stomach tightened. "The Veil?" He glanced toward the gate, which suddenly seemed more ominous than majestic. "Are you sure I’m ready?"

Celeste’s smile softened. "We won’t go more than a hundred meters in. It’s perfectly safe. Today isn’t about exploring. It’s about learning how to open and close the gate. That’s step one for any Veil Keeper."

Roland exhaled slowly, his gaze returning to the swirling symbols on the gate. "So… how do we do it?"

"With a prayer," Celeste said, stepping beside him. "Not to the gods, but to the Mother tree and the World tree."

Roland’s brow furrowed. "I thought the gods governed the Veil."

"They influence it," Celeste explained, "but the Veil itself comes from the roots of the World trees. The Mother tree, who birthed the Motherborn, and the World tree, who created the Worldborn. They are ancient, powerful forces—and very particular about who they listen to." She said with a cheeky smile.

She placed her hand on the gate. "The Mother tree will only answer a Motherborn’s call, as she distrusts the Worldborn. The World tree listens only to Worldborn, wary of us. That’s why Veil Keepers always work in pairs—one from each lineage."

Roland hesitated, then placed his hand beside hers. "So, you pray?"

"Yes," Celeste said softly. "Follow my lead."

Her voice dropped into a melodic cadence as she began to speak:

"Mother of roots, keeper of life, Open the path through shadow and strife. By bond of seed and ancient vow, We seek your grace before you now."

The roots on the gate shifted slightly, as if responding to the words. Roland felt the air grow denser, the pulse beneath his palm quickening.

Celeste nodded at him. "Now you must call to the World tree. Speak from the heart."

Roland swallowed hard and took a shaky breath. His voice was hesitant at first, but he spoke:

"Guardian of bark, eternal guide, Open the gate, let worlds collide. By mortal voice and given right, We seek your passage through the night."

The symbols on the gate flared with blinding light. The roots unfurled, twisting aside like the opening of an ancient eye. A narrow crack appeared down the center, and the space beyond shimmered with an otherworldly haze.

Celeste’s hand squeezed his shoulder. "Well done," she whispered. "The Veil has heard you."

Roland stared into the swirling mist beyond the gate.

He stepped through the crack in the gate, and the world shifted around him. The air changed first—thicker, electric, buzzing with an unseen force that made his skin tingle. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dim, ethereal glow of the Veil.

He stood in a vast tunnel, but it wasn’t like any tunnel he’d seen before. The walls were translucent, shimmering like glass but pulsing faintly as though alive. Beyond them, stars stretched endlessly across a black expanse. They were brighter than in his dreams—sharper, more vibrant, each one radiating a different kind of energy.

He reached out, his fingers grazing the surface of the wall. The Veil’s energy hummed beneath his touch, resonating with his mark. Breathing here felt different; every inhalation filled his lungs with a vitality he couldn’t describe. His exhaustion evaporated. His senses sharpened. The world seemed...more.

Celeste stood beside him, her expression unreadable as she let him absorb the moment. After a long silence, she said softly, “Be careful. It’s easy to get Veil drunk.”

Roland tore his gaze away from the stars. “Veil drunk?”

She nodded. “The Veil radiates divine energy. It feels incredible, but it’s deceptive. If you linger too long, you lose your grip on reality. The energy will flood your body and mind, and you'll forget where you came from.” Her eyes met his. “It’s like drowning in sunlight.”

Roland gave a slow nod, the weight of her warning sinking in. He already felt the Veil tugging at him, whispering of endless possibilities.

Celeste placed a hand on his shoulder. “That’s enough for today. Let’s head back before it pulls you in.”

They turned toward the gate, its crack still shimmering like a wound in the tunnel. Celeste took a steadying breath and placed her hand on the surface.

Her voice, clear and melodic, resonated through the air:

"Mother of roots, who grants the way,

Now close the path, end light of day.

Veil of power, sealed and tight,

Return to shadow, hide from sight."

The roots responded immediately, writhing like serpents as they slithered back into place. The light of the crack dimmed slightly, but it didn’t close entirely.

Celeste glanced at Roland. “Now you.”

He mirrored her posture, placing his palm on the cool surface. The energy leapt beneath his hand, eager, waiting.

He spoke, voice low but sure:

"Guardian of bark, eternal shield,

Let now the ancient gate be sealed.

By mortal voice, by chosen key,

Lock this path and let it be."

The gate groaned as the roots fully reconnected, the crack vanishing as though it had never been there. The Veil’s hum dulled to a faint whisper, leaving the chamber in heavy, sacred silence.

Roland exhaled slowly, the weight of the experience settling on his shoulders.

Celeste smiled softly. “Well done, Keeper. The Veil knows you now.”