THE STORY OF LIVES

CHAPTER-2

Toby could feel the demon's presence like a weight in the air, thick and oppressive, pressing down on him as he ventured deeper into Dravengarde. The mist clung to his boots, thickening with every step, and he could almost taste the ancient magic that saturated this place. His grip on his sword tightened as he reached a sprawling square, once the heart of the city. Statues of forgotten kings and mages loomed over him, their faces twisted with age and neglect. At the center of the square stood the Veil. A swirling, crackling barrier of shadow and light, it pulsed like a living thing, breathing slowly as it held back the forces of another realm.

The sight of it sent a shiver down Toby's spine. This was the source of the power that had destroyed his life, the breach between worlds that had allowed the demon to cross over. The Veil had been created by the ancients to seal off the horrors of the other side, but now it was weakening. Dark tendrils of energy flickered and wavered at its edges, straining to keep the realms apart. And beyond it, Toby knew, lay the answers he sought. The power to exact his vengeance and perhaps, just perhaps, the power to undo the wrongs that had been done to him.

He approached cautiously, eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. The ground beneath his feet was littered with bones—human, animal, and something else entirely. The remnants of those who had come before him, drawn by the lure of forbidden magic. Their greed had been their downfall, but Toby was different. He wasn't here for power alone. He wanted justice. And he would stop at nothing to get it. As he neared the Veil, a low growl echoed through the square, and Toby froze. His eyes darted to the far side of the square, where the mist thickened into an impenetrable wall of gray. The growl came again, closer this time, followed by the sound of claws scraping against stone.

Toby drew his sword in one swift motion, the blade gleaming dully in the twilight. The mist parted, revealing a hulking shadow emerging from the gloom. It was one of the Veilborn, creatures twisted by the magic of the breach. Once human, now they were something far worse—monstrous, misshapen beings that patrolled the city, serving the will of the demon. Its skin was pale and slick, stretched tight over muscles that bulged unnaturally. Its eyes glowed with a sickly green light, and its mouth was filled with rows of jagged teeth. Toby braced himself, his pulse quickening as the creature stalked toward him, its movements eerily silent despite its massive size.

The Veilborn let out a guttural snarl as it lunged, its claws flashing in the dim light. Toby sidestepped, bringing his sword up just in time to deflect the blow. The force of the impact sent a shockwave up his arm, but he held firm, gritting his teeth as he swung the blade in a wide arc. The creature was fast, unnaturally so, and it dodged his strike with ease, its claws raking the air just inches from his face. Toby's mind raced. He had fought many things in his life—men, beasts, even the occasional rogue sorcerer—but nothing like this. The Veilborn were creatures of pure nightmare, their bodies twisted by the dark magic of the breach.

The creature circled him, its glowing eyes locked onto his, its breath coming in harsh, ragged bursts. Toby could feel the weight of the demon's presence behind it, a puppetmaster pulling the strings. He had no doubt that the demon was watching, waiting to see if he would fall like the others who had come before him. But Toby was not like the others. He had spent years preparing for this moment, honing his skills, learning the ways of the ancient magics that had once kept the demon at bay. With a low growl of his own, he lunged forward, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision.

The Veilborn reacted too late. Toby's blade found its mark, cutting deep into the creature's side. It let out a shriek of pain, a sound that pierced the air like a banshee's wail. Dark, oily blood poured from the wound, staining the cobblestones at Toby's feet. The creature staggered back, its glowing eyes flickering with something like fear. But Toby didn't stop. He pressed the attack, driving the blade into the creature's chest, twisting it until he felt the life drain from its body. With a final, gasping breath, the Veilborn collapsed to the ground, its twisted form twitching once before falling still.