WHAT LIVES BENEATH THE VEIL
Book Twelve: The Eternal Cycle
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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 Eighty-Nine: The Phoenix's Rebirth
Year 298 – Two Hundred Eighty-Seven Years After the Curse
The phoenix in the north had died and risen for two hundred eighty-seven years.
Not literally—she was only seventy-four. But she had died and risen as if she had been reborn for centuries. Every day. Every night. Every flame of every kind.
She believed she could challenge the queen.
She believed she could win.
She believed she could kill her.
Her name was Solara—another echo, another coincidence. She was old now, her feathers singed, her fire dimmed, her eyes still burning.
She had seen many things in her long life.
She had burned many enemies.
She had failed many times.
But she had never faced anything like the queen.
The queen was different.
The queen was darkness.
The queen was eternity.
But Solara had found something.
An egg.
An ancient egg, laid by the first phoenix, imbued with the power to grant immortality, to raise the dead, to destroy any enemy.
She had hidden it for centuries.
She had protected it for centuries.
She was ready.
This is it, she thought.
This is the answer.
This is how I destroy her.
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 Northern Mountains – Morning
Solara flew through the mountains, as she always did.
The wind was cold. The air was thin. The sky was wide.
Life is hard, she thought.
Life is cruel.
Life is short.
But I am not short.
I am reborn.
I am eternal.
Or I was.
Until I died.
Until I failed.
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 fifty-three 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 phoenix.
She is reborn, they said. She is powerful. She is dangerous.
She has an egg. An ancient egg. Laid by the first phoenix.
It can grant immortality.
Raise the dead.
Destroy any enemy.
She believes she can destroy you.
She believes she can win.
She believes she can kill you.
Liora's smile widened.
A phoenix, she thought.
Reborn. Powerful. Dangerous.
An egg that can grant immortality.
Raise the dead.
Destroy any enemy.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
But I am not an enemy.
I am not dead.
I am eternal.
And no egg—
No phoenix—
No rebirth—
Can destroy eternity.
She stood up.
She walked down the steps.
The shadows followed.
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The Northern Mountains – Night
Solara prepared for her journey.
She held the egg.
It glowed in her claw.
It was warm.
It was alive.
It was hatching.
Tomorrow, she thought.
Tomorrow I go to the ruins.
Tomorrow I face the queen.
Tomorrow I destroy her.
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 Mountains
Liora appeared in the firelight.
White dress. Black eyes. Pale skin.
"You're here," she said.
Solara looked up.
"Who—"
"I am the queen."
"The queen?"
"Yes."
"Please—"
"Shh."
Solara raised the egg.
Liora moved.
Faster than Solara could follow. Faster than she could react.
Her hand closed around the phoenix's wrist.
"You won't need that."
"Let go of me."
"No."
Solara 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 – Solara
Liora reached into the phoenix's mind.
She tried to resist.
She was reborn. Powerful. Dangerous.
But she was stronger.
She pushed past her defenses.
She found her memories.
...the deaths...
...the rebirths...
...the hope ...
...that she could be the one...
...that she could stop her...
...that she could destroy her...
She pulled.
The memories flowed into her.
The deaths.
The rebirths.
The soul.
Delicious, she thought.
More.
She pulled again.
Solara gasped.
Her body convulsed.
Her eyes rolled back.
She pulled again.
Solara went limp.
She withdrew from her mind.
She looked down at her.
Still breathing. Still alive. But empty.
The phoenix was no more.
Just a shell.
Another victim.
Another name for the list.
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The Egg
Liora picked up the egg.
It glowed in her hand.
It was warm.
It was alive.
It was hatching.
Interesting, she thought.
Very interesting.
She raised the egg.
She looked at its reflection in her eyes.
Her eyes were black.
Her skin was pale.
Her smile was wide.
This egg could grant immortality, she thought.
It could raise the dead.
It could destroy any enemy.
But I have no need for immortality.
I have no need for resurrection.
I have no need for enemies.
I am the immortality.
I am the resurrection.
I am the enemy.
She crushed the egg in her hand.
The glow faded.
The warmth died.
The hatching 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 Fifty-Fourth Sacrifice
She performed the ritual in the mountains, surrounded by fire and darkness.
The whispers watched.
She spoke the words.
She made the cuts.
She collected the blood.
And when it was over—
The darkness roared.
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The Power – Three Million Fifty-Four
The fire in her veins burned brighter.
Three million and fifty-four sacrifices. Three million and fifty-four souls. Three million and fifty-four streams of darkness flowing into her, merging with her blood, becoming her.
Three million fifty-four, 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 phoenix. Reborn. Dead.
No one is safe from me, she thought.
No one.
Not even the reborn.
She smiled in the darkness.
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The Disposal
She burned Solara's body in her own flame.
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 a young man in the south. A titan. Primordial. He had been sleeping at the core of the earth for millennia, waiting for the right time to wake, to rise, to consume.
He believed he could challenge the queen.
He believed he could win.
He believed he could kill her.
Liora smiled.
Let him sleep, she thought.
Let him wake.
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 Eighty-Nine