"Now I'll finally have time to dig around."
A sigh slipped from Vaelen's mouth as the door shut behind him.
"All thanks to Velza's curious nature."
✦✦✦
"Veils are used by royalty," the blacksmith began. "They're extremely rare. Not because they're scarce — but because they're kept that way."
"What's it made of?"
"Veyrathium. And enchanted obsidian."
Velza frowned. "Never heard of Veyrathium."
The blacksmith gave a dry chuckle. "Nobody has. Because it's meant to stay that way."
"What do you mean?"
"You'll understand one day. But where was I? Ah — the creation process of a Veil."
He leaned forward, voice low, as if the forge itself might overhear.
"Collection of blood — that's the first step in a Veil's birth."
After every major battle, a grim division known only as The Crimson Harrowers sweeps the field. Cloaked in red-stained armor, their backs marked by a bone-white handprint, they don't mourn the fallen.
They harvest.
Every body is examined.
Those who died with honor — enemy or ally — are given tribute. Their blood is taken.
But deserters, cowards, and oathbreakers? They're burned where they fell. No rites. No names. Their bodies are melted down separately — not as tribute, but as fuel.
"A coward's body lights the forge," the blacksmith muttered. "But his blood must never touch the Veil."
Each honored soul's blood is sealed inside a small iron sphere, barely larger than a pea.
These capsules are quick-forged on the battlefield itself — crafted in portable fire-pits, each branded with the soldier's name if known, or a number if not. The flames are stoked using the corpses of the unworthy.
One drop per capsule.
But each is considered soul-rich.
The red seeds — as they're called — are stored in blacked-out boxes, each sealed by a mourner-priest.
Transport is heavily guarded. Assassins, forgers, and even cursed cults have tried to intercept them.
Their destination: Thorngate — Veyrath's Sacred Mint.
A brutalist fortress-temple built into the cliffs.
Only two kinds of people are allowed past its deepest vaults: the Flameforged, and those of royal blood.
"What happens to the bodies of the worthy fallen?" Velza asked.
The blacksmith exhaled, slow.
"Alright. Here's what happens."
After the Crimson Harrowers extract the blood, another order steps in — the Celestium Priests.
"Who are they?"
"Priests of the Celestium Flame. A faith rooted in purification through fire... and ascension through water."
They wear ash-gray robes, marked by a single ember-colored stripe that runs vertically from shoulder to foot.
During ritual, they do not speak — only chant in the language of smoke and wind.
What Happens After Blood Is Taken?
The Purification Pyres
Honored bodies — Veyrathian or enemy — are placed on sacred battlefield pyres.
These are lit with oil infused with ghostvine and sorrowroot.
The Celestium Priests ignite them using a silent flame — a fire that makes no sound, only flickering shadows. Collection of Ash
The ashes are gathered in obsidian urns shaped like inverted crowns.
Each urn is blessed before it leaves the site. The ash is now known as Greyward Remains. The River Devotion
The urns are carried in silent processions to the River Serath, also called the River That Forgets.
There, with bowed heads, the Priests pour the ashes into the current — returning the souls to The Veil Beyond.
"Blood returns to the forge. Ash returns to the flow. So walks the soul."
The Dormant Period — "Two Moons of Stillness"
After battlefield collection, the Red Seeds (blood capsules) are transported to the heart of the kingdom — Thorngate, the Sacred Mint and Soul Vault.
Once sealed within the vault's cold silence, they must remain untouched for a precise duration: two moons. Not a day more. Not a day less.
This stillness is called The Settling.
The belief is that during this period, the soul calms, sinks, or binds itself to memory.
Only then can it be shaped. Only then can it be forged.
"A soul too fresh will scream. A soul too old will rot."
Priestly Inspection
After the Settling ends, Celestium Priests — guided by relic-lanterns and rituals of silence — inspect each Red Seed.
Some are rejected. These are known as Grey Echoes.
Failed signs include:
No heat signature from the capsule when exposed to holy flame.Sour smoke released when held over fire.Faint whispers in a tongue that makes no sense — cursed, gibbering, untethered.
"Better a coinless kingdom than a cursed one."
Grey Echoes are not melted down.
They are sealed in iron-cored caskets and buried beneath consecrated salt beds. Returned to the earth. Forgotten, not mourned.
The Inner Forge of Thorngate
At the heart of Thorngate lies the Forge Ritual Chamber — a sanctum wrapped in heat, shadow, and silence.
Chains of obsidian loop across its columns.
Prayer-runes glow faintly on the stone walls.
The ceiling rises so high it disappears into darkness, as if even the gods were forbidden to watch.
Only three may enter:
Soul-Smiths — forgers who have bled in service to the kingdomCelestium Priests — guardians of flame and riteRoyal Observers — emissaries of the crown, present but silent
The Forging Begins
Ignition of the Forge
The ritual begins with the lighting of the forge — but not with ordinary fire.
The flame is lit using blessed coal, mined from beneath the Silent Mountain.
It burns a deep, unnatural blue at first — and makes no sound.
To awaken it, the Soul-Smith must toss a glass vial containing their own blood into the flames.
The moment the blood touches the fire, the color shifts from blue to gold-red — a sign the forge has accepted the smith's offering.
"No coin is born without sacrifice. Even the maker must bleed."
— a Soul-Smith's murmur, passed through generations.
The Celestium Spark
A small silver orb, forged and sanctified by the Celestium Order, is added next.
This Celestium Spark acts as a spiritual stabilizer — a conduit meant to balance the violence of war with the order of the sacred.
Creation of the Shell
Veyrathium alloy — mined only from the Royal Crater — is melted into coin-sized round plates.
Each is forged with a hollow core, just wide enough to house a single Veil Heart.
Once cooled, each plate is reheated gently in preparation for the most delicate step.
The Soul Insertion
The Red Seed — now called a Veil Heart — is carefully inserted into the heart of the coin.
As metal meets soul, the coin glows faintly.
Some pulse, like they still remember the rhythm of the battlefield.
But not all fusions succeed.
If the soul resists, the coin:
Cracks across the surfaceScreams faintly through the forge-roomLeaks blood-smoke into the air
These failed creations are called Riven Coins.
They are smashed immediately — first by hammer, then by flame.
"A coin that rejects its heart is cursed to unmake empires."
The Hill of the First Battle
After the coin is complete, it is transported to the final stage —
a place known as The Hill of the First Battle.
This site marks Veyrath's first great war victory.
It is not a battlefield anymore — it is a symbol of legacy.
Here stands a Celestium Sanctum unlike any other.
There are no prayers spoken. No songs sung.
It is not a temple of worship.
It is a place of stamping — where history is not told, but forged into shape.
Each generation of Veil Coins — minted only after major wars — bears a unique emblem on one side.
This design speaks for the era itself:
The soul of the war foughtThe weight of the lives lostThe burden the nation must carry forward
"On this hill, history is not told. It is forged into shape."
Velza said nothing at first — but her gaze flicked to the forge's glow. She didn't know why her throat felt tight.
But to leave their mark, the artist must:
Be over 50 — lived through two wars.Choose a metal that resonates with them: copper for warmth, gold for legacy, iron for pain.Sacrifice all their past work.
"All of it?" Velza whispered.
The blacksmith nodded solemnly.
"Paintings, poems, songs… even childhood sketches. Gone. Burned."
Velza's hand touched the hilt of her temporary sword.
"What kind of artist gives up everything they've ever made?"
"One who wants to shape something that'll outlive them."
That fire is used to melt the chosen metal. The metal is then used to damascene the forging head — the stamp that'll mark the coin.
The artist gives up their past to brand the future.
Each Veil coin is brought from Thorngate to the Hill Forge.
Still warm. Still faintly pulsing.
The damascened stamp — cooled in ash — is pressed down in ritual silence.
The Celestium priest nearby chants a binding psalm.
No design is ever reused.
Each generation of Veils has its own "War Mark."
"But that's just one side," the blacksmith added.
"The soulmark — the other side — that's something else entirely."
Velza leaned in. She didn't blink.
Reverse Side – The Soulmark
Stamped with:
Bone of a Dragon – from the left eye socket of a dragon slain in battle.Ash of Fallen Beasts – horses, hounds, wild creatures that died in the war.
Performed at dusk, eve of a new season.
The Forgebinder whispers the names of three beasts that died without a master.
Velza's breath caught. She remembered the horses that never made it back during her patrols. Remembered seeing a warhound break its chain just to die beside its rider.
The stamp is pressed — not just for a symbol. For memory.
Examples of Sigils:
War of Shadows: serpent eating its tailWar of the Wounded Star: cracked crown with rootsWar of Burning Teeth: spiral fang dripping downward
Velza imagined hers. Not sure what war she'd name it after — or if it had even ended yet.
Coin can't be faked. Even a stranger can tell real from false.
Velza frowned. "How?"
The Real Ones Carry:
Warmth — like someone just held it.Weight — heavier than it looks.Smell — not smoke, but ash mixed with something personal to the artist.Lavender from a gardenCedar from old toolsOil and paper from sketchbooks
Velza felt the scent of wet stone rise up in her mind — the smell of her home, long buried.
It made her dizzy.
The Subsound — a sound only heard by the soul.
"When flicked, it hums," the blacksmith said.
"Some say it's a blade unsheathing. Others say it's a name being whispered. Or a battlefield exhale."
Velza didn't say it, but she heard something else. The sound of silence before her squad was ambushed. The sound that never leaves.
Bone Reaction
"You feel it in your teeth," the blacksmith added quietly. "Old warriors know."
Velza didn't notice until then, but her jaw was clenched.
She finally spoke again. Her voice wasn't steady.
"So… every Veil coin is built on war?"
"No," he said. "They're built on what's left after war."