Chapter 15 #2
“If we had the luxury to be together, maybe. However, the Devourer is cunning, and with the Thorne King under his thumb, that became logistically impossible. If the Keepers of the Veil were to leave Vaelthorne, the village would fall right under the King’s nose.
The Devourer is observant. Even opening the door to your group was a risk of being found.
I cannot leave Vaelthorne. Even now, my powers are holding Vaelthorne in this space within the Veil, in no dimension in particular.
I am as much a prisoner here as I am the Keeper. ”
Lyralei smiled softly, but a somber look shadowed the curve of her lips.
“This is why I couldn’t be there for your mother as she led the Fae resistance outside.
Not a day goes by that the regret of my own inadequacies doesn’t weigh down on me.
I can’t help but think, if only I had been stronger, if I had been able to hold down Veilthorne while being away from the village, Lyanna would still be here. ”
I didn’t know what to say. I had the same thoughts. If it weren’t for me, my mother could still be here. I sympathized with the thought too much to offer comfort at the moment, but Lyralei didn’t need any.
“But that is the past. Your mother gave her life to the cause, and I will not let her sacrifice go to waste.”
“How, how was she actually caught? I can’t imagine someone who is an expert at manipulating space with Veil magic being caught. Like you said, the skill nullifies human mages.”
“As you know, your mother was not with you all the time.”
“Yes. I was with my father on his farm for most of my childhood. I only saw my mother once or twice a month after I turned six years old or so.”
“Yes. You grew up in Ashbrook, I believe.”
I nodded.
“Ashbrook lies on the edges of Elderfall Forest, where the Fae resistance used to reside. This is how your parents met. The villages in that area rarely receive assistance from the King. They also have no solidified reason to hate the Fae. The resistance and the village had trade relations for a long time.”
“After you were born, we had a traitor among us. There was another Fae that we grew up with, Sylvara. The three of us were inseparable. However, when the two Keepers were chosen by the elders, only Lyanna’s and my names were called.
Sylvara resented this more than we knew at the time, enough to betray us. ”
“She gave the location of the resistance and information about Lyanna to the King. She leaked information about you and your father, too. When the King’s forces struck, Lyanna depleted much of her energy relocating the entire resistance to a safe location.
She fought the King’s forces alone, defeating them.
She left one alive in the end, a commander.
She made him tell her how they found her and left us a message.
Then, she discovered a detachment force that was headed for you and your father.
Your father hid you, as you know, but he was ultimately captured by the time Lyanna got there. ”
“With a knife against her lover’s throat, Lyanna surrendered. They promised her that if she came with them, your father would live, a promise they did not keep.”
Memories of hiding underground flooded my mind. The screams I had heard. The smell of ash and blood. Villagers screaming.
“I received a message from the surviving resistance that Lyanna had been taken. Recklessly, and in a way Lyanna would not approve, I came back to this dimension, bringing Vaelthorne with me. A dangerous gamble, but I had to try and save your mother. I followed the tracks of the King’s forces.
By the time I got there, your mother and father had already passed. ”
Tears threatened to escape my eyes. Lyralei saw.
“I’m sorry, child. I wish I could have done more, but I have failed both you and your mother. However, rest assured and hold no grudge. I avenged your mother. I tracked Sylvara down and made sure she paid for her betrayal. So, do not hold hate or anger in your heart.”
I nodded, tears freely flowing now.
“What’s important is that we don’t let your mother’s sacrifice go to waste. We must protect what we have left. We must defeat the Devourer.”
My mind focused on the task at hand.
"What works against the Devourer?" I asked.
"One must use both dimensional channeling and space manipulation. First, it must be pinned to a space with the Veil anchoring it. Then one must use the most advanced form of dimensional channeling, sending something from this dimension into another. This isn’t as simple as drawing strength from another dimension.
Drawing energy toward you is very different from sending energy away from you.
You must first master drawing energy before you can send it away. "
"Your mother could hold anchors for hours," she said.
"She was the strongest Veil-touched in recent memory. She surpassed me a few weeks into training. She may have been the strongest ever born." Lyralei’s voice held grief and pride equally. "She believed her daughter would surpass her."
The weight of that expectation settled across my shoulders. Not only did I need to surpass my mother, but also Lyralei.
"I'm not her," I said quietly. “Or you.”
"No. You’re you. And that might be exactly what we need."
Over the following days, I practiced anchoring until my head ached and my nose bled from the strain. I learned to layer bindings for redundancy, to recognize when a Void-touched entity was testing the anchor for weakness, and to adjust and reinforce on instinct.
The Devourer's interest became clearer through the lessons. Lyralei explained how my power drew its attention like blood on white cloth. Every time I touched the Veil, I sent ripples through dimensions the ancient entity monitored.
"It sees you as a threat and an opportunity," she said. "If it corrupts you, you become a doorway large enough for its forces to pass through. If it kills you, it loses the one Veil-touched who might actually banish it permanently."
"So, it's waiting to see which option becomes available first."
"Yes."
I didn’t ask what happened if it chose the corruption route.
By the end of the second week, I could perform all the basic techniques without guidance. I could compress space across short distances, touch the Verdant Beyond without losing control, reflect hostile magic, and anchor the Veil into place.
Not mastery. But competence. Survival-level skill.
Enough to maybe not die immediately when the real fighting started.
One afternoon, I found myself watching Daemon's team train in an adjacent section of the grounds. Kael, Kane, and Zephyr moved through combat drills with the precision of people who’d fought together for years.
They communicated through minute gestures and shifts in stance, anticipating each other's movements, covering weaknesses automatically.
Their coordination was beautiful in a deadly way.
Zephyr's wind magic created openings, and his arrows closed gaps that Kael exploited with brutal efficiency. Kane’s dominating force and strength showed without an enemy present, as he held down the middle.
They flowed around each other like water, adapting to changing scenarios without breaking rhythm.
And Daemon. He was the nail and hammer. He turned the finely tuned deadliness of the team into a machine of war that always achieved its mission. He was faster, stronger than before. The deterioration that had plagued him weeks ago had been erased by my stabilized control.
The curse was still draining him, but slower now. Slow enough that hope felt possible instead of delusional.
"They trust each other completely," Lyralei said, appearing beside me with her characteristic silent grace.
I nodded. "Yes."
"I haven’t seen teamwork like this since your mother and I could be in each other’s presence. You’re lucky to have them as your allies and not your enemies."
I watched Zephyr let loose an arrow from his crossbow and Kane hurl his axe overhead.
Their aim was completely wrong, the current trajectory of the weapons would never have reached the training dummy, but Daemon’s shadow tendrils redirected the projectiles.
The arrow landed right between the eyes of the dummy before Kane’s axe split it in half.
"Will that be enough?" I asked. "Against what's coming?"
"It will have to be. Combined with your power and their skill, you might actually stand a chance." Lyralei's tone suggested she believed it possible, but far from certain.
We stood in silence, watching the deadly dance continue until Daemon called for a break. His team dispersed toward water and shade, but he crossed the grounds toward us instead.
"Making progress?" he asked, though the question felt directed at both of us.
"She learns quickly," Lyralei said. "Another month and she'll be ready for practical application."
"We might not have a month." Daemon's expression darkened.
"Then we accelerate Seris's training to match." Lyralei’s calm felt forced. "There are techniques we haven't covered yet, deeper applications, "
"She needs rest too," Daemon interrupted. "Pushing too hard risks the same loss of control we're trying to prevent."
They looked at me, waiting for input on my own limitations.
I thought about the Devourer, about Aeron's expanding conquest, about the curse that killed Daemon, and the power that might save, or doom, us all.
"I can handle more," I said.
Lyralei studied me with ancient eyes, then nodded. "Very well. But we balance intensity with restoration." She turned to Daemon. "Your presence helps stabilize her. Continue training together when possible."
Something unreadable passed between them before Daemon agreed.
"There's something else," Lyralei said, her attention returning to me. "Something I've been reluctant to offer, but which might help you understand the scope of what you're capable of."
My pulse quickened. "What?"
"Your mother's workshop. Where she developed her sealing techniques and studied dimensional mechanics." Lyralei’s voice hesitated as the words came out. "It remains preserved, untouched since her last visit before traveling south. I could show you, if you wish to see where she worked."
Emotion crashed through me, the burden of fear, disappointment, and overwhelming loss flooding my mind.
My mother's workshop. Her space, her tools, her research.
Everything she'd been before the scaffold, the screaming crowd, and the final drop. After what I had just learned of how she passed, I didn’t know if I was ready to face the emotions I was feeling before I had decided to focus on the task at hand.
"I..." The words stuck in my throat.
Daemon's hand found my shoulder, steady and warm. Not pushing, just present.
I breathed. Let the initial surge of feeling settle into something manageable.
"Yes," I said finally. "I want to see it."
Lyralei's smile held approval and sympathy both. "Tomorrow, then. After your morning session. I think you're ready."
Ready to face my mother's legacy. Ready to walk in her footsteps.
Ready to become what she'd always believed I could be.
I just hoped I wouldn't disappoint the memory.