Riders of the Chromatic Veil
Arrival Beneath the Veil The first time the veil split open, it was barely a whisper. It came on the seventh moonless night in a row — a night so unnaturally...
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Fifteen illustrated stories appear on each archive page, newest first.
The story archive
63 published tales
Arrival Beneath the Veil The first time the veil split open, it was barely a whisper. It came on the seventh moonless night in a row — a night so unnaturally...
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The Hive Beneath The smell hit her first—sweet, but wrong. It clung to the air like the scent of a dying flower dipped in syrup and left to rot in the sun. T...
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The Fall and the Flame They called her Hessa the Silent, not because she didn’t speak—gods no, she swore like a sky-sailor drunk on phoenix blood—but becaus...
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The Silence Before the Storm There were no birds in the sky. No insects sang in the dunes. No wind to stir the silence. Only heat—searing, smothering, ancien...
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There are names not spoken aloud in the village of Vareth’s Hollow—names so old they cannot be traced in any written tongue, only whispered beneath breath a...
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The Screaming Soil The land was wrong. Not just haunted, not just cursed. It screamed. Beneath the brittle roots of leafless trees, under stones older than ...
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The Cursed Cupcake Incident In the heart of the Bewildering Wood — a place where reality tended to forget its pants — there lived a kitten named Fizzle. But...
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The Amber Eye of Thal They said the forest was split by an ancient curse — one that stitched time along a crooked seam. On the left side of the path, the wo...
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The Jarred Truth Gus was a gherkin, but not just any gherkin. He was the last one in the veggie drawer with dreams. Real, fermented, ambitious dreams. He wan...
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The Transaction It started with a bet—because it always does. A bar too loud for conscience and too dim for decency, a stranger in a velvet hood, and a wage...
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The Whirl Before the Storm It all started on a Monday, which—statistically speaking—is the worst day to be murdered by your kitchen appliances. Not that Mart...
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The steam had barely risen when the trouble started. Barry, a mild-mannered bar of soap with sensitive skin and a lifelong fear of mildew, had just clocked ...
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Of Fur, Fire, and Fancy Curses In the quaint town of Bleakwood, nestled somewhere between “probably cursed” and “why is that forest always whispering?”, the...
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The Sword Between Worlds The sky was bleeding fire and frost. Where the heavens ended and hell began, a rift had formed—a tear in the fabric of what mortals ...
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The Dance Beneath Dying Stars The fog curled like fingers across the old courtyard stones, whispering secrets only the dead remembered. Candlelight, tremblin...
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