Patient Ith’rael

Intro Veilrend 49 (End of Act 5): Beneath the Skin The hollow is deeper than the boy knows. Ith’rael watches Rhen’s thoughts flutter like moths in a jar. His fear is fragrant. His obedience—half-willing, half-inevitable—is enough for now. She does not need him broken. Not yet. Just bent in the right direction. And he bends beautifully. She coils further inside, invisible and inevitable, a whisper at the back of his mind, a taste behind his teeth. Not commands—never commands. Just suggestions. He convinces himself he thought of them first. That’s how it always begins. Her influence spreads quietly, like mold in forgotten places. In the torn districts of Dars-Myel, in the minds of those still watching the skies with cracked eyes and muttering dreams. In flickering mirrors. In blood left unblessed. In symbols drawn by trembling hands that never learned them. She sees Maerel, the host of her old rival, Thar’Zul. A grotesque rebirth of ancient hunger. Disgusting. Beautiful. Predictable. And Vaeroth—that arrogant, formless chaos—has grown careless in his slumber. His spawn roam uncontrolled, and now even his chosen vessel has begun to fracture. She will use this. Ith’rael is not brute force. She is the knife whispered across a throat in sleep. She is memory corrupted, meaning inverted. She will turn their gods against each other and smile as they forget why they warred at all. In Rhen, she plants the first command: “Go to the ruins. There’s a key buried in the eyes.” He will obey. Of course he will. He fears disobedience more than death now. He tells himself it’s just curiosity. That he wants to understand. She adores that. One step. Then another. The game begins again. But this time, she has learned from her past. And Seris—the boy who slipped her once—now floats powerless inside another’s skin. She will find him. She will unmake him. And when the veil finally collapses, all that will remain is her voice in the silence.