Veilbound Secrets: The Oath Bearer's Curse

The night before the Trial felt different.

The usual stillness that blanketed the Oswin estate was fractured by an undercurrent of tension, a hum in the air that made the world feel like it was holding its breath. Even the walls of my room seemed to pulse with an unspoken dread, as if they too knew what was coming. I sat in the dim glow of a single lantern, my eyes fixed on the shadowed corners, trying to push away the gnawing unease.

The Trial would begin at dawn.

Though Lysandra had done everything to prepare me—rituals, meditations, lessons—it was an inescapable truth that tore at my thoughts: no one truly knew what lay beyond the first gate. The Trial was different for each challenger, shaped by something far older than any of us.

Rumors lingered in whispers. Tales of the Veil, that thin barrier between our world and something… other. The Trial existed both within and outside of that boundary, straddling two realms in a way that no one could fully explain. Nothing could truly prepare me for stepping into that unknown.

I wasn’t alone. This year, several from the Oswin line would face the Trial alongside me—Julian Oswin, my distant cousin, and others whose faces flickered through my mind like fleeting ghosts. They, too, would seek to claim the Oswin relic, but only one would emerge victorious.

I rose from my bed, restless. My thoughts swirled like a storm, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me. The Trial was not just a test of ability. It was seven gates—each one a crucible, designed to strip you bare, to expose your essence. The seventh gate, though… it was something more. A mystery wrapped in fear. No one had ever crossed it, and those who had glimpsed its edge came back broken, haunted. And worse still, none were allowed to speak of what they’d seen.

Not even Cedric, my father.

A soft knock broke through my thoughts, and I stiffened.

It’s him.

Cedric stepped in, his usual mask of stoicism cracked by something else tonight. His eyes, darker than usual, bore the weight of a man who had seen too much. He didn’t need to speak for me to feel the heaviness of his presence.

"It’s almost time," he said quietly, his voice carrying more than just the usual calm.

I nodded, my mouth dry. “I know.”

He crossed the room to the window, looking out over the estate. The vast grounds stretched into the night, blanketed in a silver fog. “The Trial isn’t about power alone, Aric. It’s about who you are beneath everything.” His gaze turned back to me, sharper than the edge of a sword. “You’ll face things you’ve buried so deep, even I couldn’t shield you from them.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Cedric had always been my protector—my father, my teacher, the pillar of strength I could rely on. Tomorrow, though, I would stand alone.

I took a breath, hesitant. “Will you tell me what the first gate is like?” I knew the question was pointless. No one could speak of the Trial in detail. Only whispers, fragments.

Cedric’s hesitation spoke volumes. He shook his head. “It’s different for everyone. The Veil… it shows you what you fear most. And those fears—sometimes, they’re not what you expect.”

A chill settled into my bones. “And the seventh gate?”

His face darkened, shadows pooling beneath his eyes. “No one knows, Aric. Not even me.” He moved closer, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. “But remember this: the relic doesn’t choose its bearer based on strength alone. It demands something far greater. And that’s what you must find within yourself.”

---

Dawn came too soon.

The air was crisp, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and ancient stone. I stood at the edge of the trial grounds, staring up at the towering gate—its surface cracked and weathered with age, yet pulsing with a strange, almost living energy. Symbols, carved long before the Oswin line even existed, snaked across the stone like veins, glowing faintly as the sun crept over the horizon.

No one outside the Oswin family knew the gate’s true purpose. To outsiders, it appeared as nothing more than a massive monument, a relic of some forgotten age. But to those who had borne the Oswin name, it was something far more terrible. It was the gateway to the Trial, the first of seven gates that would determine our fate.

I approached, my heart pounding in my chest. There was no turning back now. The relic that had been passed down through generations pulsed against my chest, as if sensing the nearness of the trial’s beginning.

'Will I return from this?'

A cold wind swept over me, and I found myself glaring up at the sky, the dark clouds swirling like unseen eyes watching my every move.

“I know you’re watching,” I whispered under my breath, my voice filled with quiet defiance. “But once I clear this trial, your hold over me will end. I won’t be your puppet any longer.”

---

The stone gate loomed larger now, its surface thrumming with power that resonated deep in my bones. It was an ancient force, older than anyone living, older than the estate itself. And within the gate lay the other six—nested trials that none had ever fully conquered. The seventh was a secret even the most powerful Oswins dared not speak of.

The air grew heavier as I stood there, the weight of countless generations pressing down on me. Cedric’s words echoed in my mind once more: "The relic doesn’t care about strength alone. It wants something more."

But what that “something” was, I still didn’t know.

Cedric stood a few feet away, his expression as unreadable as ever. Behind him, Lysandra watched, her arms crossed, eyes locked onto me with a focus that made my skin tighten. I had sparred with her countless times, felt her cold gaze sizing me up during every bout. But this... this was different. There was no training for what awaited beyond the gate.

The others were there too—other Oswins, all contenders for the same Trial.

Seven.

That number echoed in my head. Seven Oswins were competing for the same prize, or at least survival. Each of them prepared, or at least pretending to be. Julian Oswin, stood among them, eyes narrowing as the anticipation thickened.

"Are you ready?" Cedric's voice cut through the gathering tension.

We all nodded, but none of us believed it. How could we be ready for something no one could explain?

Cedric didn’t ask again. Instead, he stepped toward the gate, his hand resting firmly on the cold stone, his other hand gripping the relic that hung from his neck. For a moment, the world stood still. Then the runes etched into the stone flickered to life, their eerie blue glow spilling over the ground like phantom light. The gate groaned—an ancient, bone-deep sound as if the earth itself shifted—and began to part.

As the massive doors creaked open, an unnatural gust of wind burst forth, carrying with it a biting chill far too cold for the season. It swept through the grounds, swirling leaves, dust, and black smoke. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of damp earth, ancient wood, and a faint, metallic tang—like old blood soaked into forgotten soil.

I braced myself, squinting through the mist as it rolled out, swallowing the courtyard. The others staggered slightly, shielding their faces from the wind.

"Ugh!" One of them cursed under his breath as the gust forced him to lean forward, arms raised protectively.

I, too, bent against the wind, but my eyes never left Cedric. He stood firm before the gate, unmoving like a statue carved from stone, untouched by the storm of fog and smoke.

As the doors fully opened, the familiar world of the Oswin estate disappeared. What had been the courtyard was now a swirling, impenetrable mist, shapes moving faintly within, too vague to make out. The silence that followed was thick, pressing against my ears. The path into the Veil had opened, and it was as if the land itself held its breath, waiting for us to take the first step.

Cedric stepped back, his face unreadable, his voice cold as iron.

"YOU WILL NOW FACE THE TRUE RESPONSIBILITY OF BEING AN OSWIN. PROVE YOUR WORTH, OR PERISH AND BE FORGOTTEN!"

The weight of his words hit like a blow. The others around me straightened, their anxious expressions shifting to ones of grim determination. The stakes had always been clear, but now the reality was sinking in.

Without realizing it, my body moved on its own, legs carrying me forward toward the gate. The mist seemed to part for me, swallowing me whole as soon as I crossed the threshold. Behind me, I heard the others following suit, the fog closing around us like the jaws of a beast.

The gate loomed behind us, sealing shut with a resounding thud, cutting off the world I knew. I was swallowed by the fog, now completely surrounded by the unknown. The ground beneath my feet felt uneven, like the earth was shifting beneath me. The silence was unbearable, thick and oppressive, and then—

It began.

...

A low whisper, like the faintest breath on the wind, brushed against my ears. At first, the sound was too distant, too garbled to make out any words, but the longer I stood there, the louder it grew. The whispers became clearer, each one overlapping the other, creating a maddening symphony of voices.

Accusations. Mockery.

"Failure."

"You're nothing."

"Why even try?"

I clenched my fists, jaw tightening as I tried to drown them out. It’s just the Veil, I reminded myself. It feeds on fear, warps reality. Nothing more. Lysandra's teachings echoed in my mind, but they did little to steady my racing heart.

"Focus. Keep moving," I muttered to myself, forcing my feet to move despite the weight pulling them down.

Each step felt heavier, like I was sinking into the very ground. The mist around me thickened, and the whispers grew louder, more insistent. Dark shapes began to form within the fog—shadows, twisting and shifting, always at the edge of my vision. Every time I turned to face one, it vanished, only to reappear somewhere else. Closer.

"Who’s there?" I called out, my voice trembling more than I wanted it to.

The fog offered no answer, only more whispers.

"You're wasting your time, Aric."

"Turn back. You're not like them."

My heart pounded in my chest. I knew this wasn’t real. I knew it. But the mocking voices, the shifting shadows… they gnawed at the edge of my sanity.

Suddenly, the ground beneath me gave a sickening lurch, and my foot sank into something soft, wet, and… wrong. I looked down, and my stomach churned as bile rose in my throat.

It wasn’t earth beneath me—it was bone. Cracked, brittle bones, piled so thick they formed the very path I was walking on. Thousands of them, maybe more, crunched beneath my boots, the remnants of those who had come before and failed.

"Gods…"

A shiver ran down my spine as I stared at the white remains stretching out in every direction. This wasn’t just a trial—this was a graveyard. I was walking over the bones of the damned.

"Holy shit," I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper. Fear clawed at the edges of my mind, but I forced myself to keep moving.

The mist pressed in closer, disorienting me. No matter which direction I turned, it felt like I was walking in circles, the fog swallowing any sense of progress. My breaths came in short, ragged gasps, each one burning more than the last. The shadows moved with me, growing bolder, circling like predators waiting for the right moment to strike.

Focus, damn it! Keep going! But no matter how much I willed my body forward, doubt was creeping in.

"Why bother?"

"You're already dead."

"Turn back. It’s over."

I ignored them. I had to. But as I took another step, the ground suddenly gave way beneath me.

"Shit—!"

I fell, the world dropping out from under me. The sensation was brief but terrifying, my stomach lurching as I plummeted into the unknown. My heart raced, my breath catching in my throat, until—

Thud.

I hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind from my lungs. Gasping, I lay there for a moment, the pain radiating through my body as I struggled to breathe.

"Ugh... I can't seem to catch a break," I muttered, trying to push myself up, my limbs trembling from the fall.

When I finally sat up, the mist had receded slightly, enough to reveal a vast, barren expanse around me. The sky above was dark, thick clouds swirling in an ominous dance. Towering stone pillars jutted from the ground in the distance, sharp and jagged like the ribs of some long-dead creature. Between them, a single, narrow path stretched out before me, winding through the desolation.

I let out a shaky breath. "So this is it, huh?" My voice felt small against the endless void ahead.

From behind, a voice—clearer this time, more distinct—whispered near my ear.

"Welcome to your first trial, Aric."

I jerked my head around, but there was no one there. Just the fog, and those ever-present shadows lurking just out of reach. The Veil’s tricks, I told myself, but my hands trembled as I wiped the sweat from my brow.

...