WHAT LIVES BENEATH THE VEIL
Book Ten: The Eternal Return
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CONTENT WARNING: This series contains explicit sexual violence, human sacrifice, psychological torture, murder of innocent characters (including children and family members), ritualistic killing, and extreme horror. No character is safe. Read at your own risk.
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Chapter Two Hundred Sixty-Four: The Seer's Vision
Year 273 – Two Hundred Sixty-Two Years After the Curse
The seer in the west had seen for two hundred sixty-two years.
Not literally—she was only forty-nine. But she had seen as if she had been gazing into the future for centuries. Every day. Every night. Every vision of every kind.
She believed she had seen the queen's end.
She believed she knew how to achieve it.
She believed she could guide the next hero to victory.
Her name was Cassandra. She was young, gifted, and terrified. She had a staff. A crystal ball. A purpose.
She had heard the stories.
The legends.
The fear.
She believed them.
She knew the queen was powerful. Immortal. Invincible.
But she also knew that no one was truly invincible.
Everyone had a weakness.
Everyone could be stopped.
Everyone could be killed.
She just had to find it.
And she had found something.
A vision.
An ancient vision, gifted to her by the spirits of her ancestors, showing her the queen's origin, her curse, her weakness.
She had seen the child born without a cry.
She had seen the girl with the knife in the cellar.
She had seen the woman cursed to hunger forever.
She had seen the first soul.
The one who had cursed her.
The one who had bound her.
The one who could unbind her.
The first soul is not gone, the spirits whispered. It is trapped. Imprisoned within the queen. Waiting to be freed.
If you free it—
The queen will be vulnerable.
For a moment.
One moment.
That is when the hero must strike.
Cassandra opened her eyes.
"The first soul," she whispered.
"I have to find it."
"I have to free it."
"I have to guide the hero."
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The Western Tower – Morning
Cassandra studied in her tower, as she always did.
The crystals were clear. The candles were lit. The silence was deep.
Life is short, she thought.
Life is fragile.
Life is precious.
She did not see the shadows.
She did not hear the whispers.
She did not feel the darkness watching.
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The Ruins – Morning
Liora sat on the throne, listening to the whispers.
Three million and twenty-seven souls now served her. They flitted through the shadows, invisible to all but her, reporting on everything they saw and heard.
They told her about the seer.
She is gifted, they said. She is terrified. She is dangerous.
She has had a vision. An ancient vision. Gifted to her by the spirits of her ancestors.
She has seen your origin.
Your curse.
Your weakness.
She knows about the first soul.
She knows it can free her.
She knows it can destroy you.
She plans to guide a hero to strike.
Liora's smile faded.
A seer, she thought.
With a vision.
She knows too much.
She must be stopped.
She stood up.
She walked down the steps.
The shadows followed.
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The Western Tower – Night
Cassandra worked late into the night.
She held her crystal ball.
It glowed with faint light.
She was searching for the hero.
The one who would strike.
The one who would end the queen.
Show me, she thought.
Show me the hero.
Show me how to help him.
The crystal ball glowed brighter.
Images appeared.
A young man. A sword. A shield.
He was strong. Brave. Determined.
He was the one.
There, she thought.
There he is.
There is my hero.
She did not see the shadows gathering.
She did not hear the whispers growing louder.
She did not feel the darkness closing in.
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The Tower
Liora appeared in the doorway.
White dress. Black eyes. Pale skin.
"You're here," she said.
Cassandra looked up.
"Who—"
"I am the queen."
"The queen?"
"Yes."
"Please—"
"Shh."
Cassandra reached for her staff.
Liora moved.
Faster than Cassandra could follow. Faster than she could react.
Her hand closed around the seer's wrist.
"You won't need that."
"Let go of me."
"No."
Cassandra tried to pull away.
She could not.
Liora's grip was like iron.
"What are you?"
"I am what comes next."
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The Feeding – Cassandra
Liora reached into the seer's mind.
She tried to resist.
She was gifted. Terrified. Dangerous.
But she was stronger.
She pushed past her defenses.
She found her memories.
...the visions...
...the spirits...
...the hope ...
...that she could be the one...
...that she could guide the hero...
...that she could help them...
She pulled.
The memories flowed into her.
The gift.
The terror.
The soul.
Delicious, she thought.
More.
She pulled again.
Cassandra gasped.
Her body convulsed.
Her eyes rolled back.
She pulled again.
Cassandra went limp.
She withdrew from her mind.
She looked down at her.
Still breathing. Still alive. But empty.
The seer was no more.
Just a shell.
Another victim.
Another name for the list.
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The Crystal Ball
Liora picked up the crystal ball.
It glowed with faint light.
Interesting, she thought.
Very interesting.
She raised the crystal ball.
She looked at its reflection in her eyes.
Her eyes were black.
Her skin was pale.
Her smile was wide.
This crystal ball could show anything, she thought.
Any future.
Any past.
Any hero.
But I have no need for visions.
I have no need for futures.
I have no need for heroes.
I am the future.
I am the past.
I am the hero.
She crushed the crystal ball in her hand.
The glass shattered.
The glow faded.
The visions ended.
No one will ever use it now, she thought.
No one will ever try again.
I am safe.
I am eternal.
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The Three Million Twenty-Eighth Sacrifice
She performed the ritual in the tower, surrounded by crystals and candles.
The whispers watched.
She spoke the words.
She made the cuts.
She collected the blood.
And when it was over—
The darkness purred.
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The Power – Three Million Twenty-Eight
The fire in her veins burned brighter.
Three million and twenty-eight sacrifices. Three million and twenty-eight souls. Three million and twenty-eight streams of darkness flowing into her, merging with her blood, becoming her.
Three million twenty-eight, she thought.
The hunger is quieter now.
But it will return.
It always returns.
She released the spell.
The shadows retreated.
She looked at the body.
A seer. Gifted. Dead.
No one is safe from me, she thought.
No one.
Not even the gifted.
She smiled in the darkness.
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The Disposal
She burned Cassandra's body in the tower's brazier.
The fire was hot. The smoke was thick. She worked quickly, efficiently, scattering the ashes before dawn.
No one saw her.
No one ever saw her.
She walked back to the ruins as the sun rose, smelling of smoke and blood and darkness.
She washed her face in a broken fountain.
She braided her hair with her fingers.
She wore a white dress she had found in a forgotten wardrobe.
She practiced her smile.
Eyes wide. Innocence.
Mouth soft. Gentleness.
Head tilted. Curiosity.
Perfect, she thought.
She sat on the throne.
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The Empty Throne
The throne room was open to the sky.
No walls. No roof. No protection.
Just Liora.
And the whispers.
You are alone, they said.
Yes, she thought.
But I am not lonely.
I have you.
I have all of you.
Forever.
She closed her eyes.
She listened to the whispers.
They told her about the world.
The new kings. The new heroes. The new legends.
They told her about the hero Cassandra had seen.
A young man. A sword. A shield.
He was strong. Brave. Determined.
He had heard the stories.
The legends.
The fear.
He did not believe them.
He could not believe them.
No one was that powerful.
No one was that evil.
No one was that alone.
He was coming.
He would try.
He would fail.
Liora smiled.
Let him come, she thought.
Let him try.
Let him believe.
I have time.
I have forever.
And when he comes—
I will feed.
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End of Chapter Two Hundred Sixty-Four