WHAT LIVES BENEATH THE VEIL
Book Six: The Eternal Empire
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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 One Hundred Seventy: The Sailor's Freedom
Year 159 – One Hundred Forty-Eight Years After the Curse
The sailor in the east had sailed for one hundred forty-eight years.
Not literally—he was only thirty-three. But he had sailed as if he had been crossing oceans for a century. Every day. Every night. Every voyage of every season.
He believed the queen would never find him.
He believed he was safe.
He believed he was free.
His name was Corin—another echo, another coincidence. He was young, adventurous, and wild. He had a ship. A crew. A life.
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 wrong.
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The Eastern Harbor – Morning
Corin prepared his ship for departure, as he always did.
The sails were raised. The anchor was lifted. The wind was favorable.
Life is good, he thought.
Life is free.
Life is mine.
He did not see the shadows.
He did not hear the whispers.
He did not feel the darkness watching.
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The Ruins – Morning
Liora sat on the throne, listening to the whispers.
One hundred thousand and thirteen 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 sailor.
He is free, they said. He is adventurous. He is wild.
He does not believe in you.
He does not fear you.
He does not respect you.
Liora smiled.
Let him sail, she thought.
Let him explore.
Let him be free.
For now.
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The Open Sea – Night
Liora traveled across the water, invisible as always.
The whispers guided her. One hundred thousand and thirteen souls, bound to her, serving her, hungry for more.
He is close, they said. His ship is ahead. He is sailing. He is alone.
He is perfect.
She found the ship.
It was large, made of wood and sail, cutting through the waves like a knife.
She walked across the water.
The shadows followed.
No one saw her.
No one ever saw her.
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The Ship
Corin stood at the helm, steering his ship through the night.
The stars were bright. The wind was strong. The sea was calm.
Life is good, he thought.
Life is free.
Life is mine.
He did not see the figure standing behind him.
He did not hear the whisper in his ear.
He did not feel the hand on his shoulder.
"Hello, Corin."
He turned.
"Who—"
"I am the queen."
"The queen?"
"Yes."
"Please—"
"Shh."
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The Feeding – Corin
Liora reached into the sailor's mind.
He tried to resist.
He was strong. Adventurous. Wild.
But she was stronger.
She pushed past his defenses.
She found his memories.
...the voyages...
...the freedoms...
...the joy ...
...that he could go anywhere...
...that he could do anything...
...that he could be free ...
She pulled.
The memories flowed into her.
The freedom.
The joy.
The soul.
Delicious, she thought.
More.
She pulled again.
He gasped.
His body convulsed.
His eyes rolled back.
She pulled again.
He went limp.
She withdrew from his mind.
She looked down at him.
Still breathing. Still alive. But empty.
The sailor was no more.
Just a shell.
Another victim.
Another name for the list.
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The Crew
The crew watched in horror.
"She killed him."
"She drained him."
"We have to run."
"We have to fight."
Liora turned to face them.
"Who's next?"
They screamed.
They jumped overboard.
They drowned.
She let them go.
They were not worth her time.
Not worth her hunger.
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The One Hundred Thousand Fourteenth Sacrifice
She performed the ritual on the ship, surrounded by water and wind and darkness.
The whispers watched.
She spoke the words.
She made the cuts.
She collected the blood.
And when it was over—
The darkness howled.
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The Power – One Hundred Thousand Fourteen
The fire in her veins burned brighter.
One hundred thousand and fourteen sacrifices. One hundred thousand and fourteen souls. One hundred thousand and fourteen streams of darkness flowing into her, merging with her blood, becoming her.
One hundred thousand fourteen, 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 sailor. Free. Dead.
No one is safe from me, she thought.
No one.
Not even the free.
She smiled in the darkness.
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The Disposal
She burned Corin's body on the ship.
The fire was hot. The smoke was thick. She worked quickly, efficiently, scattering the ashes into the sea.
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 woman in the west. A scholar. Curious. She had been studying the queen for years, reading every text, deciphering every clue.
She believed she had found the queen's origin.
She believed she understood her weakness.
She believed she could end her.
Liora smiled.
Let her study, she thought.
Let her learn.
Let her believe.
I have time.
I have forever.
And when she comes—
I will feed.
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End of Chapter One Hundred Seventy