Title: Crimson Thrones: Volume 142 – The Veil's Secret
By Sabbir Ahmed
The Shrouded Veil did not strike openly.
Instead, they moved in shadows, crafting a weapon older than Veyrath itself: the Mirror of Forgotten Truths. Hidden deep within the western caverns, the mirror had the power to sever memory from mind, turning the Unforgotten's greatest strength—their clarity—into weakness. Each reflection could twist their certainty into doubt, making allies strangers and friends into enemies.
Seraphine and Kaelen sensed the threat before it fully manifested. Reports came from border towns: children of the Unforgotten waking confused, questioning what they had seen, what they had learned, even their loyalty. The Shrouded Veil was not just attacking bodies—they were attacking identity.
The child of continuity appeared at the palace, silent and grim. "The Mirror is ready," they said. "And it hungers for what you value most."
Kaelen clenched his fists, quiet fire simmering around him. "Then we must move first. They cannot twist what we defend if we hold it together."
Seraphine nodded. The Unforgotten assembled, hundreds of young warriors and scholars bound by shared memory. Each carried the weight of generations, of victories and losses, of love and betrayal. Together, they would face an enemy that struck not with steel, but with the mind itself.
The journey to the western caverns was perilous. Time and space bent unpredictably—the Mirror's influence extended beyond its chamber. Each step forced them to confront fragmented memories: victories that never happened, friends who had never existed, and betrayals whispered into silence.
At the heart of the cavern, the Mirror awaited. Its surface rippled like black water, reflecting not reality, but potential futures. Kaelen's quiet fire flared, cutting through the illusions. Seraphine's determination anchored the Unforgotten, binding them to shared truth.
The Mirror shivered under their presence, testing, probing, threatening to fracture their minds. And then a voice—soft, insidious, familiar—echoed from its surface:
"Even memory can betray you. Even love can lie."
Seraphine drew her blade, Kaelen's hand finding hers. "We fight with truth," she said. "And no reflection can undo that."
The first strike against the Mirror was only the beginning. What followed would test not just memory, but loyalty, love, and the very essence of identity itself.
The battle for the mind of Veyrath had begun.