VEILWALKER SAGA (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/397431837-veilwalker-saga?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=StarloreScribe "Some are chosen by fate. Elara Vance was chosen by something older." Elara never knew her mother or father. She never believed in magic, fate, or hidden legacies. All she had was her younger brother, a quiet town, and questions no one dared to answer. But when a mysterious letter from the elite Aurelia University arrives with her name on it, everything begins to unravel. Whispers follow her. Time bends around her. And the forgotten start to remember. Within the walls of a school built on ancient secrets, Elara will awaken a power once lost to history, the ability to walk the Veil between life and death. But in a world where souls can be erased, and fate is no longer fixed, Elara must choose: Will she revive what was lost... or become forgotten herself?
Free to read cyberpunk-lite/aetherpunk with a side of zombie apocalyse, soul magic, and slow burn.
Episode 4 has begun!
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Chapter 20: No way.
“All work, no— ugh. For fuck’s sake—play—okay, come on, will you loosen already you piece a’—”
With one last heave, Varrett bounced the stubborn shutters up.
His effort? Herculean. His ranting? Incessant. And his prize? A firm reminder why you were meant to lift with your legs and not with your already aching back.
“—makes V a sad boy,” he finally concluded, followed by a heartfelt “ow,” as he rubbed at a spot right above his ass bone.
The sun leered at him from over the storefront’s roof, slow-cooking him, while the once bustling artisan alley around him continued to rot quietly. At least the rotting had charm, the kind you got downhill from a park after three years of no one bothering to sweep. Dirt had been carried down by rain and wind alike, forming a cover of soil thick enough to attract the Elpisan fauna. With vengeance on its mind, it’d wrestled lampposts to the ground, ripped antennas from their sockets, and repurposed neon signs by hanging them off young trees like chokers.
And dear God, was it swampy.
Storms carried rains in their wake, and in the last few days, that’d been all Varrett had gotten out here: rain and heat and extra crowded streets since Maulers liked the wet a lot more than he did. But now the rain had let up. The clouds had broken. But the heat and the moisture had stuck around, turning even the widest of HC’s streets into saunas.
Varrett stared into the darkness beyond the shop’s shutters, his filter listless in its venture to pick up any potential threat, tired and overheated like the rest of him. No big surprise then that a sudden whisper of movement from above gave him a solid fright.
Varrett wheeled around, the prybar he’d used to jimmy the shutters open held at the ready—
—and growled at the vine that’d dropped from the roof’s edge to land on his shoulder. The vine slid lower, slung its slinky end around his biceps, and gave him a light squeeze. His thick shirt (which was totally the worst thing to wear in this heat) kept it from tasting skin.
“A for effort,” Varrett muttered, grabbed ahold of the plant above his head, and snapped it off with one hard yank.
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Art by the always amazing and gifted @nikoschrissis.
Today, I would like to bring you some Aphelion creature lore! In particular, I'd like to introduce the Ein and their Einlings, a Reaper sub-species that inhabits Aphelion's verse.
Check them out here or have a look over on Campfire Explore.
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Reaper Lore: Ein and their Einlings
Ein are creatures the size of a donkey.
They are slow and sluggish and will mind their own business as they wander, almost as if the world around them isn’t of any consequence, to the point where there’s a good chance you’ll see one walking into a wall – only to do it again, hoping the wall had moved.
And that is how they spend their lives. Passive. Quiet. Noses to the ground, grazing.
And a back full of Einlings.
They host up to twenty of those small, exceptionally active and playful creatures and carry them to wherever they need to be. Which, usually, means buildings. The small Einlings fit perfectly into the inner workings of structures both old and new alike, where they repair anything from wiring to more complex machinery. To achieve that task they often hoard wire and scrap to bring back to their Ein for keeping and to reuse later. Which often ends with their Ein covered in wires and electric scrap braided into its fur like makeshift armour.
Incidentally, Einlings are also known as mischievous thieves, picking up anything small that isn’t nailed down and even remotely useful (or just shiny enough).
Einlings do not fare well without their Ein and their flock. While it is possible to keep them separate, an Einling without its group is always at risk of falling into inertia.
Ein and Einglings are relatively common in the settled systems, even beyond Trero's reach. A hatchery exists somewhere within reach and dragons will deliver new flocks on occasion.
Appearance
Ein look like a wide-backed cross between a donkey and a sheep. They have floppy ears, stubby tails, and cloven hooves. A coat of long, curled wool covers them from head to hoof and a layer of feathers spreads across their back.
Unfortunately, the wool can grow so unruly it often covers their eyes. Fortunately, they have their Einlings to pull the wool back or trim it.
Einlings, on the other hand, come in all manners of variations, though here’s what they all have in common: They’re small. Lithe. Have bodies that resemble squirrels or ferrets, and nimble, three-fingered hands with opposable thumbs. Some have wings allowing them short flight and others strong tails that grow out a meter long (which is a few times the actual Einling’s size). And then there are those that have very large, wide ears and those that have antlers – and some that have all of the above combined.
Their bodies are covered in short, soft fur coming in browns and blacks and whites and some have feathers. But not all.
Einlings also have a peculiar set of teeth: Half their mouth is equipped with small, sharp teeth and the back where there might be molars are instead flat, sharp cutters they use to cut through wires.
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Free to read cyberpunk-lite/aetherpunk with a side of zombie apocalyse, soul magic, and slow burn.
In which a shoe drops right on Varrett's head. A very heavy one.
This is a short one. But... SOPHYA LORE!
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Chapter 23: The Soul Eater
Post-scuffle clarity was a bitch.
The adrenaline wearing off was bad enough, but that moment when the dust settled and the questions started popping their heads out of the dirt? Yeah, Varrett didn’t like that one bit. Especially with What the fuck just happened? leading the charge.
No, he wasn’t confused about the general logistics. Those were pretty straightforward: Bad dudes did bad things and they’d tried to nab Fi.
But nothing past it made any sense. Not the dudes in CG gear. Not the Sare. And defo not how everyone still standing had hauled ass the moment SIN had thrown that dome in front of Varrett.
Yeah. The dome thing.
W. T. F.
Fi’s silence didn’t help. She hadn’t made as much as a peep since Varrett had pulled the weird-ass collar from her neck. Not a Thank you, not an I’m okay, just a lot of nothing and a thousand-yard stare.
It’d gotten worse once Seb had taken them back up to Sixty; like she somehow managed to shuck noise entirely, her breathing quiet, her steps soundless, and her eyes empty, perceiving nothing.
But hoo boy, was she being perceived in turn or what?
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