Chapter 18 Beyond the Veil
“Guys, I need to run back to the Dragontail atrium. I cannot believe I forgot my protection heirloom again.” I said to the red-haired twins, Tran and Rowan, and Shakari.
“If her head wasn’t attached to her body, she’d lose that too,” Tran muttered. “Brother, you sound like an old lady,” Rowan shot back.
Shakari sighed. “Ignore them. Just get your stuff.”
“Not that she even needs it,” Tran added. “She’s kind of incredible without it.”
I was already sprinting toward the atrium, cheeks burning hot with embarrassment.
The sting of my own forgetfulness hit me hard.
We’d just finished one of Professor Chen’s coercion classes, during which I’d unclasped my family heirloom from my wrist to practice raising my mental walls, and, naturally, forgotten it again.
Shame and frustration prickled along my skin.
Tran wasn’t wrong. Three months in, and Dragontail and Emberkeep schedules still felt chaotic, running from wing to wing, class to class. Yet I kept misplacing my protection heirloom, just like on my first day.
The only difference now was that I finally understood: my walls were much stronger than I ever realized. The techniques that Professor Chen taught us were similar to those from the Glass Castle tutors, and I was mastering every single one.
As I came back into the atrium, I heard voices, dozens of them, echoing off the stone walls. When we’d left for class, the atrium was nearly empty.
Then I heard Professor Hog’s voice rise above the chaos.
“All second and third-year have been summoned to the West Ridge Veil posts, basically any student who has passed the Dragontail. That is why your marks are glowing.”
Instinctively, I looked down at my bare arm.
My green-and-gold tattoo was still.
Untouched.
Unmoving.
“Dragontail forces are spread too thin,” Professor Hog continued. “Most are stationed by the Glass Castle for the attack the queen foresaw yesterday. But this morning, she saw another forming on the opposite side of the island. We don’t have enough warriors to defend both fronts.”
The atrium erupted, shouts, panic, excitement, all crashing together in a tidal wave of emotion. The air thickened with fear and anticipation, voices layered so densely I could barely breathe, much less make out a single word.
Then a voice cut through all of it.
“I’ll get everyone to the posts. You know the drill.”
I knew that voice.
I could place it instantly.
Lorik Draventh.
“Align yourselves in four lines, we need to reinforce four of the towers beyond the Veil,” Professor Hog called out. The atrium erupted in movement, boots scuffing and echoing across the stone.
I stepped closer to the entry door and leaned into the narrow gap between the metal frame and the jamb, peering into the atrium.
Through the shifting bodies of the crowd, I spotted Lorik by the dais, a tall, dark figure conjuring portals.
Each portal shimmered like a mirror the size of the main entry doors, its surface rippling as if made of liquid glass, ringing with shifting silver lines that splayed in all directions.
Light flickered across the portals, giving the impression of looking through thin water, yet the image on the other side remained slightly blurred, concealing where the gateways led.
I’d seen him portal himself across the Hall of Mirrors during training battles, but this was different.
He was creating a gateway large enough to move entire groups, the kind only the royal guards at the Glass Castle conjured, or the generals’ assistants used in emergencies to reach last-minute battles.
The more I watched him, the more I understood why General Barret had spared him despite his mother’s offense.
Lorik Draventh wasn’t just skilled.
He was immensely powerful.
As I looked around the room, I saw hundreds of students clustered around him, most of them faces I didn’t recognize, likely the entire upper class of Dragontail.
But the second-year group that always made a point of taunting me was unmistakable: Marla and Rory, glued to each other as usual and positioned right beside Lorik.
Ugo stood with them, too, though he at least had never shown me the same hostility the others did.
“Let’s kill some parasites,” Rory said, practically vibrating as she marched through the portal without hesitation. Calling wildweaver parasites didn’t seem incorrect; rather, it seemed appropriate. They were parasites that fed on and stole from dragons.
Professor Chen followed her, then several other Dragontail students filed in behind.
The whole atrium pulsed with urgent anxiety, fear radiating off every face, war hammering in the air like a second heartbeat. The dread weighed on my shoulders, heavy and inescapable.
I’d never been beyond the Veil. Dragon attacks escalated faster than anyone admitted, with wildweavers striking on both fronts, knowledge limited to the Solenhart court.
I peeked again from the door.
Dozens had already gone through.
Lorik was holding the portal open on his own, calm where fear should have taken over, never once faltering.
That urge inside me, reckless, pulsing, wild, and alive, rose like a tidal wave crashing through my ribs. My heart was pounding so fiercely it almost hurt, desire and terror tangled so tightly I could scarcely breathe.
I wanted to join them.
I wanted to see what we were actually facing out there.
My mother had ruled her entire life without ever stepping beyond the veil, never truly seeing with her own eyes what we battled every day with blood and sweat.
She only heard the stories. First from my father, the Emberkeep general at the time, and now from Thalen’s father, General Barret.
Like many monarchs before her, she believed queens and kings should rule only from the safety of the Glass Castle.
My father had been the first Solenhart general in history, commanding the Dragontail legion. He was ultimately permitted to lead only because he wasn’t Solenhart by blood but married to one.
I looked at the portal Lorik had created, clear as day with green-blue water rippling on the other side. I felt something inside me settle.
More Dragontail students have passed to the other side; only Lorik remains there now.
When he took his first step through the portal, adrenaline shot through my entire body like lightning. Terror and exhilaration collided, flooding my veins with a sweet, sick thrill. Now or never.
I sprinted.
I ran on the balls of my feet, trying not to make noise, pushing as fast as I could toward the portal. It was already thinning at the edges, closing quicker than I’d expected. Lorik’s form was fading, half on the other side, half still here.
I wasn’t going to make it.
I knew it.
So I jumped.
As if diving into the Glass Castle pools.
Reckless. Stupid. I knew that whatever waited on the other side might very well break my bones.
Cold magic swallowed me whole.
The world twisted.
Stones rushed up toward my face. But it never hit.
Shadows caught me.
Dozens of black, swirling ribbons wrapped around me, stopping my fall inches above the floor. They lowered me slowly and gently until my feet touched solid wood.
I breathed hard, tilting my head up just as the shadows retreated.
Lorik Draventh stood before me, fingers still faintly inked with his Moonveil magic as he absorbed the last shadow back into his palms. His face was unreadable. Too controlled. Too composed.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice flat but the clipped enunciation gave him away.
He was furious.
“I… I needed to see with my own eyes what happens beyond the Veil,” I said, breath still unsteady.
Only then did I take in our surroundings.
We stood inside a concrete tower rising high above the western cliffs, the wind howling through the steel platforms that cantilevered from its core to form the open fighting terraces.
This tower was only one of many. A reinforced shaft anchored each post, with steel bridges radiating outward like a web to connect it to dozens of others perched along the cliffside.
Together, they formed a defensive ring before the Auroric Veil, each tower a lone sentinel watching the edge of the world.
We were on the top terrace of our tower.
From here, I could see the Veil shimmering pink and orange behind us, its light rippling over the dark, churning shore.
Far below, blue-green waves crashed against jagged rock, the sound echoing up through the steel.
The towers stretched nearly a hundred feet above the sea, a barrier of stone and metal between the island and whatever threatened it.
The last line of defense before the Veil.
Before the wildweavers.
Before the dragons.
And every Dragontail here was preparing for war.
Real war.
Not drills.
Not simulations.
This was war.
Lorik stepped closer, his voice was a low growl.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
I met his eyes. My pulse was finally steady.
“Why? Because I am a Solenhart?”
His jaw tightened, a flash of anger he didn’t bother hiding.
“No. Because you’re not trained,” Lorik said, gaze flicking toward the horizon as though expecting something to break through it.
“You can’t even control your emotions in the Hall of Mirrors.
How do you expect to survive an actual battle?
You’re reckless. Did you even think twice before jumping through my portal? ”
Heat clawed up my throat. He was right, but I refused to admit it.
“You’re also a student,” I snapped. “And I can help. I wield flame better than any Sunheart.” Before Lorik could fire back, a deeper voice cut clean through the air.
Ugo.
“A student who passed the Dragontail Trials,” he said, stepping into view. “You haven’t. And you still can’t control your flames in a fight.”
Before I could answer, the low thrum of drums rolled from above. Then another from the far tower, then another, echoing across the fortress. My stomach dropped.
Ugo’s voice hardened, sharper than I’d ever heard it. “Enough. Both of you. We don’t have time for this, the Auroric guard has already spotted them.”