Page 54 of Orc's Veil

It speaksto me in stolen voices.

The voices came again. I’d learned not to kneel.

The lullaby first, as always.

You took my song from him.The voice is accusing, wounded.He’ll never remember how I sounded. Never hear me sing him to sleep again, even in his dreams.

“I know.” The words come out steadier than I feel. “I know what I took. I’ve always known.”

More voices layer in. A farmer’s grief. A young woman’s lost first kiss. Dozens of them, all of them mine, all of them accusing. The Sovereign knows exactly which memories will cut deepest—it’s been carrying them since the moment I gave them to the Veil.

My knees want to buckle. My hands want to press over my ears. Every trained instinct from a decade of nightmares says: collapse, endure, wait for it to stop.

Not this time.

I’ve already given the Sovereign everything it needs to break me this way. I know exactly how this ends: I go down, it presses its advantage, I beg, it offers terms. It worked once. I won’t let it work again.

I force myself upright. Force my voice out through the screaming in my skull.

Why?The voices merge—a chorus of stolen grief, unified into a single terrible presence.You didn’t stop. You kept taking. Kept stealing. Kept feeding me with every act of mercy you performed.

The Sovereign’s true voice emerges from the chorus—ancient and hungry and terribly patient. I can feel it pressing against my mind, a presence vast enough to blot out thought.

“I already know what you are.” I meet the pressure head-on, stop trying to push it away and lean into it instead. “I’ve known since I named you at the stones. You’re made of what I gave away—and that means I understand you better than you want me to. So stop trying to break me with it. I’ve already broken.”

Very good.The Sovereign’s approval is worse than its anger.You understand, then. I am what you created, boundary witch. Every memory you’ve taken lives in me now. And soon—very soon—you’ll feed me everything else.

The Sovereign stepsback through the tear.

Not fully—it keeps one massive foot in the Shadow Court, its form half-visible through the opalescent wound in reality. But its presence is unmistakable. The air grows cold. The stones dim. Even the perpetual twilight seems to darken, retreating from the entity that has haunted my work for eight years.

Up close, it’s even more horrifying than I remember. The stolen faces cycle across its surface—men, women, children, all of them people I tried to save. All of them now part of this nightmare creature. Its pale eyes fix on me with inhuman focus.

Your blood is special.It circles me slowly, its massive form moving with unsettling grace.Unique. Eight years of feeding the Veil have made you part of it.

“I know.” I keep my voice steady, though my heart is racing. “That’s why you can’t just kill me. You need me alive.”

Clever girl.The faces on its form ripple with what might be amusement.Yes. I need you alive. But more than that—I need you bleeding. For me instead of for the Veil. If I can bind you, force you to feed me instead of the boundary…

“The barrier will invert.” The realization hits me like a physical blow. “Instead of holding the shadow-realm back, it will pull it through.”

Now you understand.The Sovereign stops circling, its terrible gaze boring into mine.

I didn’t need it to say the words. The knowledge settled into me like ice—cold and absolute. A permanent breach. Me, bleeding forever in service to the darkness, my blood tearing the world apart instead of holding it whole.

“You want me as a breach.”

Fear coils in my stomach. Cold and sharp and utterly rational. This is what the Sovereign has been working toward since before I was born. Every memory it consumed, every soul it devoured—all of it building toward this moment. Toward me.

“And if I refuse?”

Then I tear your executioner apart. Memory by memory. Sin by sin. I have centuries of practice. I can make his suffering last longer than you can imagine.

I’d mademy choice before I drew the knife.

But I’ve been surviving traps for eight years. I’ve walked the edge of the Veil, bargained with the boundary, bled myself dry to hold back the darkness. I know how this magic works better than any living creature—including the one standing in front of me.

And I know the Sovereign is lying.