Chapter 1

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author note:

I'm new to this whole writing shebang since this is my first time ever trying to even write something so don't hold me by the balls for writing dumb stuff pretty please

to be honest I was going to first write around a 50 - 100 chapters then release everything at once so the cuties that are actaully interested in this have a little something to read, but considering I was being both lazy and excited to actually start writing and releasing the book, so I just did what I did and started to publish it after writing only 4 chapter.... Sowwy (:

I will try my best to write a chapter a day, tho some days i might miss since I work around 10-12 hours a day

but if you do like the book please leave a review

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The Veil's Awakening

In the dim light of dawn, a young man navigated the labyrinthine streets of Ardin with a predator's grace. His silhouette was lean, almost gaunt, with hair that seemed to absorb the scant light, casting his face in shadow. His clothes, threadbare and faded, whispered tales of hardship and resilience. The city of Ardin, with its worn facades and air of decay, was a mirror to his own life — one of survival against the odds. Amidst the sprawling maze of streets and alleys, where the gleaming towers of the affluent brushed against the crumbling dwellings of the poor, he moved unseen, a ghost among the living.

This young man, known in the whispers of the street as Altharus, had perfected the art of invisibility, not through magic, but through necessity. The marketplace, alive with the morning hustle, served as his hunting ground. He weaved through the crowd with practiced ease, his gaze sharp and calculating. Stalls laden with goods, from fresh bread to ripe fruits, beckoned many, but for Altharus, they presented opportunities for survival. The market was a vibrant tapestry of life, its air rich with the aroma of spices and the din of haggling voices. Yet, beneath the surface lay a battleground where the cunning thrived.

His target was a fruit vendor, momentarily distracted by a haggling customer. Altharus edged closer, his movements deliberate and silent, a shadow amongst shadows. His hand, guided by the necessity of hunger, hovered near a plump apple, its surface gleaming invitingly in the morning sun. However, before his fingers could brush against the fruit, a strange unease tugged at his senses, an instinct honed by years of living on the edge whispering words of caution.

Compelled by a force he couldn't understand, Altharus found himself drawn towards an alley he had always ignored, a narrow crevice between two ancient buildings that whispered secrets of the old city. The further he ventured, the more the vibrant cacophony of the marketplace faded, replaced by a hushed silence that seemed to envelop him. It was as if the alley itself was leading him, pulling him towards a destiny yet unseen. Shadows danced along the walls, forming patterns that seemed to flicker with a life of their own.

As he reached the end of the alley, he stood before a wall that seemed to pulse with a shadowy life of its own. Without warning, the shadows writhed and stretched towards him, forming hands that grasped with a chilling urgency that mirrored his own for survival. They emerged from the darkness like the fingers of a long-forgotten deity, eager to claim what had wandered too close. Before he could react, they seized him, their touch colder than the deepest winter, pulling him into a realm of shadows. Panic surged as the world he knew was swallowed by an abyss, replaced by an oppressive void that threatened to suffocate his very being. The air was thick, resisting his every movement as if he were drowning in a sea of pitch. The last slivers of light from the alleyway dimmed and vanished, leaving him to the mercy of whatever lay beyond the veil of shadows.

Awakening to a harsh coldness beneath him, Altharus's consciousness slowly surfaced from the depths of unconsciousness, his senses struggling to make sense of his surroundings. The ground beneath him was unforgiving, composed of compacted soil that seemed to leech the warmth from his body. As his eyes fluttered open, they were met with a landscape so alien it could have been conjured from a nightmare. Twisted trees, their branches gnarled like the fingers of the dead, reached towards a sky shrouded in perpetual twilight. Jagged rocks, sharp and foreboding, littered the ground, casting long, sinister shadows that seemed to move of their own accord.

Attempting to rise, Altharus felt an immediate resistance, the cold bite of chains clasped tightly around his wrists, a tangible symbol of his captivit. A stark, terrifying realization dawned upon him — he was not simply in an unknown place; he was a prisoner within it. Panic's initial surge gave way to a numbing confusion as he assessed his bindings, the weight of the chains a constant reminder of his vulnerability

He forced himself to his feet, the chains clinking ominously with every movement. His gaze swept the horizon, seeking any sign of life, any clue as to where he might be or what was expected of him. But the landscape offered no comfort, no answers. The twisted trees stood as silent sentinels over a land devoid of warmth or welcome, and the jagged rocks seemed to guard secrets too ancient and dark for the uninitiated.

As he stood there, a realization began to dawn on him — he could not remember how he had arrived in this place, nor why he had been brought here. Worse still, when he tried to recall memories of his life before this moment, he found only darkness, an abyss where his past should have been. The realization struck him with the force of a physical blow, leaving him reeling from the implications. Who was he? Why had he been brought to this place? And what fate awaited him in this alien landscape?

The chilling silence of the labyrinth seemed to mock his plight, offering no clues, no solace to his fragmented self. In that moment of profound isolation, surrounded by the alien landscape that seemed as lost as he felt, a singular, haunting question rose to the forefront of his mind, echoing endlessly in the void left by his missing past. With a voice barely louder than a whisper, fraught with confusion and a dawning fear, he asked the emptiness around him, "Who am I?" The question hung in the air, unanswered, as if absorbed by the twisted trees and the jagged rocks, leaving Altharus alone with the unsettling realization that he did not know.