Epigraph
“Of all the magics that trace through my bloodline—healing, oath-binding, velvet-tongue, fury, shadow-binding, light-bending, illusion-weaving, firecalling, stormshaping, pathfinding, rotcraft, mindreach... and so many more?—
The gods gave me nothing of value. No, the gods cursed me. They named me a veilstrider.
But whatever the priests may say, the Veil is no bridge, no curtain, no sacred divide between the mortal and the divine. It is chaos. It is a place where emotion takes form and time forgets itself. There is no path. No map. No logic. Only feeling. Only fragments. Only fear.
I do not understand it. I do not want to understand it.
I just want it gone from me.”
Personal journal of Aerion of Fellsworn, the last veilstrider