Page 6 of Veinblood
It doesn’t matter. I need to focus.
Assess. Adapt. Survive.
These three principles have sustained me for my entire life. Whatever has happened, wherever I am, survival depends on understanding the new rules of this place quickly. Thealternative is death—from exposure, from discovery, or from failing to recognize threats that would be obvious to any native of this realm.
Dragging my attention from the strange carriages, I study the flow of people moving in all directions. Their clothing is unlike anything in Meridian. They’re wearing fabrics in colors so vivid they seem to glow, cut into shapes that serve no practical purpose that I can discern. Many wear padded over-jackets that appear to be designed for the cold, but in colors that would make them visible to all enemies for miles around.
Most are utterly unaware of their surroundings, staring down at small glowing rectangles that emit thin chirping sounds. The rectangles cast pale light on their faces, creating an eerie uniformity of expression—blank, entranced, disconnected from the world around them. Some speak to the rectangles. Others tap them repeatedly with their fingers, all the while remaining oblivious to everything else around them.
A woman passes close by, without looking up. I study her carefully. She has no visible weapons, no armor beneath her clothing, and absolutely no awareness of my presence mere feet away. Her vulnerability would be laughable in Meridian, where such inattention could mean death. Here, she moves with the unthinking confidence of someone who has never known true danger, never had to judge whether a shadow conceals an enemyor assess whether the person beside her poses a threat.
This isn’t just another world. It’s one where constant vigilance appears to be unnecessary. A place where survival doesn’t depend on split-second decisions and lethal force. The absence of guards, patrols, or any visible security measures suggests a society that has either conquered violence entirely or grown so complacent it has forgotten such things exist.
A world where predators like me can walk among prey without triggering any survival instincts. A realm without Authority patrols or Veinwardens, where magical power might go undetected entirely.
If I’m here, surely Ellie must be as well? The violent energy that tore us from Thornspire must have affected us both. The question iswhereis she? The displacement could have scattered us across this realm, or deposited us close together. More importantly, did she arrive uninjured? I refuse to consider the other option—that she isn’t here at all, but still at Thornspire facing Sereven without me.
I need information, shelter, and appropriate clothing so I can blend in. What I’m wearing will stand out among the garments the inhabitants here are clothed in as surely as if I carried a banner announcing my origins. The cold seeping through to my skin reminds me that immediate survival needs to take priority over long-term planning, regardless of how urgent finding Ellie feels.
I stay where I am for a while longer, taking time to really study the area around me. The buildings have strange signs that blaze with captured light, and people enter and exit them freely, suggesting they serve public rather than private functions. Thestructures lack the organic irregularities that mark buildings shaped by time and human hands.
After a few minutes, and a new sound that makes my ears ring, the crowd thins, moving in front of the strange contraptions with people inside that have stopped to let them pass. Through a gap, I catch sight of a secluded entrance to one of the larger buildings across the path. It’s partially concealed and none of the people flowing around me are paying any attention to it. It looks like the perfect place to use as shelter while I attempt to get my bearings.
Gathering shadows around me, I move across the space, keeping to the darker areas where the strange unnatural light doesn’t reach. Tension keeps my spine taut as I wait to be apprehended with every step I take, questioned by guards I haven't seen, challenged by authority I don't understand. No one even looks in my direction, and I reach the door without anyone stopping me.
I examine the lock securing the entrance. It’s unlike any I've encountered. There is no visible keyhole, no obvious method of operation. My shadows probe for weaknesses, seeking the binding points that hold it closed.
“Karem nisha.”Release the lock.
A soft click reaches my ears, but I don’t open the door straight away. Instead I reach through the darkness to sense what lies beyond. Once I’ve confirmed that the passageway is empty and dark, I reach out and turn the handle.
The door swings open, and I slip inside, assessing mysurroundings as I move. The passageway stretches ahead, and a soft, unfamiliar, whirring sound fills the space. It seems to be coming from everywhere and nowhere at once, and it’s impossible for me to track down the source. The air smells different in here. Clean, and oddly fresher than the air outside, and yet still there is nothing natural about it.
I call out my raven with a silent command, and wait while it explores the area. The information it sends back is disorienting. There are vast open areas beyond the passage, rooms filled with objects whose purpose I can’t even begin to comprehend. Shelves upon shelves of items, all marked with symbols in this world’s script.
It shows me people standing in rooms, wearing matching garments that mark them as workers or servants. They load boxes onto more odd carriages that must be used in the same way as Meridian’s carts but without horses. Other people are sitting inside them, and once each is filled, it is steered out and replaced by another.
The workers move confidently, talking in clipped exchanges that make no sense to me. In some ways, it reminds me of how the Authority structured work details. Everything operating in a specific order, with no deviation.
I move deeper into the building, avoiding the active areas, seeking elevated ground. A stairwell presents itself, and I ascend quickly, testing the shadows ahead for potential encounters. There's an empty room three flights up that reminds me of thestorage rooms back home, its shelves filled with containers, and more recognizable items like brooms and buckets.
It offers temporary sanctuary, defensible with one entrance, and has clear sight lines through a small window which overlooks the main thoroughfare below. I secure the door with Voidcraft, creating a warning system that will alert me to approach long before anyone reaches the threshold. The magic feels strange here, as if the very air resists it, but it holds.
Only then do I allow myself to pause and truly process what has happened.
Sereven's face in those final moments rises unbidden. The shock in his eyes as our combined power touched his crystal, the way his expression shifted from triumph to something approaching fear. Did he know what was about to happen? His warning takes on new meaning now, parts of a puzzle I lack the pieces to complete.
You have no idea what will happen if?—
If what?
If our powers touched the crystal directly? If the energy contained within escaped? Did he know it would send us to another world? Or did he think it would cause something else?
The crystal itself defies everything I understand about magical artifacts. Most store power for a controlled release. This one redirects, transforms, connects, as well as contains. The dreams suggest that it’s not a focus, but something else entirely.
I move to the window, staring out at the landscape below. The snow falls heavier now, coating the strange surfaces in whitethat softens the harsh edges of this realm. The lights never dim, creating an eternal false day that my eyes struggle to adapt to.
Was Sereven pulled through as well? And where is Ellie?
