Beckoning of the Gate: The Vāyilian Threads

Santha wet her dry lips, recalling the last time she saw him … almost precisely two months prior. Yet there are places, hidden and ancient, where the veil lies thin and doors stand locked and silent. Now, she drew her sword slowly, deliberately, as the enemy closed in. Or someone. ‘Needless to say,’ the prince continued, ‘with the key finally taking a true host … well, dire days are indeed ahead.