Toric had no idea where he was, there was darkness all around him and for the life of him he could not remember how he got there. He thought back and could recall everything up until the pain. A gasp and mental flinch jerked his thoughts away from the agony. It was so very fresh, like an open wound that if he paid it any attention at all he could still feel fire lancing along his nerves. A soft wisp of light flickered before his eyes and slowly formed into a man shape, it wasn’t too bright to look at, hovering there in the space just in front of him. A sound issued from the light and slowly the sound became words.

“Listen to me Toric, listen to me and remember my words. A terrible injustice has been visited upon your soul through a simple mistake on your part. You were naïve and trusting of someone who did not deserve that honor. The mage that cast the Anchor upon you knew that using the spell on anyone not of pure human blood was not only dangerous but also an abomination. Attempting to power through the spell and make it work he poured a horrendous amount of energy into your soul; far more power than a mortal soul is capable of surviving. He killed the human half of you Toric, but luckily for you – you are more than human. A soul cannot be severed from itself. It can be parted from a body, but not from pieces of itself. When the draconic part of your soul refused to leave your body your soul stretched and has made you into something not seen upon your world since elder days. Long ago when necromancy was more prevalent and abominations like what was done to you by accident were committed on purpose, there were rare instances that resulted in a stretched soul like yours. Those beings were known as Veil-Walkers, or just Walkers for short.”

“I have come to you to explain what has happened to you, as well as the new abilities you will have. Along with this blessing though, comes a curse. You have responsibilities as a Walker now as well. A Veil-Walker is one who exists in both the corporeal and incorporeal worlds at once. The incorporeal, or veiled, world exists like an overlay atop the mortal world that you were born in. It is where the ghosts live, where daemons hunt, where magic flows into your world. It is a dangerous place, but you should have no fear of it. Within the veiled world your half soul is invulnerable to attack as you exist still upon the mortal plane in your own body. I will teach you more as you mature, and show you how you can interact with this new reality. When you awake you will notice some things immediately. You will be able to feel and see the flow of magic, and eventually you will be able to manipulate it in its raw form. However you will never be able to construct spells like a mage. Ghosts, daemons, spirits, and other fae creatures will be unable to hide from your gaze, but be warned – neither can you hide from them.”

“I want you to repeat this all to the Master Mage Vorxin and the Mage Drax. They can both be trusted to help you as much as they can. My name is Artur and I am The Veil-Master, tell them that and they will be happy to do what they can for you. You must learn not to trust so innocently, but at the same time do not abandon the parts of you that make you a good man. This curse will cause you terrible pain, physically as well as emotionally. But, through the agony that you bear, the world will become a better place. Now, just this once, I am going to allow someone to speak to you. Please do not interrupt her; she only has a short time and wishes to say several things. Prepare yourself Toric; this is the beginning of the pain.”

Toric could not think of a single thing to say as the figure which had become more and more defined the longer it spoke turned and nodded into the darkness behind him. Suddenly there was a new light. This light wasn’t the sharp, harsh, white light of Artur. No it was warm and familiar, like the golden glow of the hearth fire. Suddenly, all at once, the light resolved into a long neck, attached to an enormous head, the head of a dragon. It was odd, but he could tell just from looking at it that this dragon was a female. A long moment passed and then a choked sob escaped him and he whispered a word he had longed to apply to a mortal being for his entire life.

“Mother.”

The light shimmered and slimmed down, coalescing into the form of a small beautiful woman. Features were difficult to make out as everything about her was sculpted of light, but he felt an instant and intense kinship with her that was beyond denying. The form spoke and with the sound of her voice came the rush of summer and the feeling of being safe in his father’s arms after a bad dream.

Oh Toric, my son, how I have longed to see you again. Before you jump to any conclusions, know this; I am not dead. I am bound to a place in the mortal world and may not leave it in either thought or action. Through the grace and power of Artur I am allowed this one moment with you. One day we may meet in person, but I beseech of thee, do not seek me out. My name is bound with me, and I may not speak it to thee. Tell the Mage Drax that thy mother is the Dragon Bound by Bone. He will know of me and can tell you much. For thee I have a gift that was left with the Emperor just after thy birth. Tell Drax thy seek thy birthright as Toric Fatesblood, only son of the Dragon Bound by Bone and Devyn Fatesblood. Speak not mine son, thy father is truly Devyn Fatesblood. His blood-brother Marrick raised you and loves you with all of his heart. Be gentle with him when you see him again. Mine time is nearly gone, speak quickly I must. A code exists that thy already know, but I will speak it once to you. Hear, remember, and always live by the creed my son. Let it guide you and honor it always, for such is the duty of thine blood.

Protect the Legion

First with words and if that fails

Draw my sword, axe, or hammer

Honor is my most precious thing

Protect and guard it from myself

I am the strong right arm of Daath

And let all that meet me either cheer or flee

Toric spoke, along with his mother, the words that his father had taught him since he was a small boy. As the last word faded from her lips, the wisp of light defining her form winked out. The form of Artur turned and looked at Toric and nodded once firmly, pointing toward something behind him.