Page 3 of The Gods Veiling (The Valorian Veil #1)

That day, almost everything changed. Again.

Mellcom is still just as protective, funny, and caring over me as he’s always been. Except, a switch flips the second we step on the dirt path that leads to the arenas. The protective brother turns into the ruthless fighter who treats me more harshly than the others.

It’s infuriating and ridiculous, seeing as I don’t even need to be here.

Prior to our little…disagreement, it was obvious he made everyone baby me. Even Jeremiah. Mostly.

Now, the nineteen men, plus him—most of whom I’ve been sparring with for years—choose whether they’ll take it easy on me.

They don’t. Ever.

I didn’t realize that a body could stay in constant pain to where it just became normal.

“Weapons down. Bring it in.”

My glare pivots from some of the men I once considered…acquaintances to the booming voice that draws everyone’s attention.

I follow the crowd of them and toss my training sword into the pile with theirs. Instead of making their way out the arena door, they circle around Mellcom. I sigh and cross my arms to listen to whatever motivational nonsense comes out of his mouth.

“This sunbreak will be the last some of us spend together. There’s no doubt in my mind, four of you from our group will be chosen in this Veiling.”

Their cheering nearly blocks the sound of my scoff.

Jeremiah, better known as the asshole, Mellcom’s vile best friend, our roommate, and worst of all…my ex, hears it. His elbow knocks into my arm painfully, and I bite my cheek to stop myself from lashing out at him.

It’s bad enough I’m having to cover up the pain in my ankle because of him. I won’t be giving him any more excuses to tear into me .

“Get home, get ready, and pray to whichever god you put the most faith in. This will be the Veiling they answer your call. You’ll be one with the Gods in Godsden.”

Their bodies blow by me, pushing me out of their ring as they circle Mellcom. Their hooting echoes through the arena as they all jump up and down chanting “Godsden.”

I’d say it’s an adorable little show of unity in our group if it didn’t mean that each of them is so willing to swear their allegiance to gods who I believe started taking our power over twelve hundred years ago.

The history of the realm states that it was the Valories’ decision to take our godly abilities away from us. The gods have always stood by the claim it wasn’t them, but you can’t convince me that’s the whole truth.

If they can use this little Veiling as a means of peace to give a select few of us our rightful power back, then they could’ve taken it all on their own.

My eyes roll so hard I’m surprised they don’t fall out of my head when the men lift Mellcom on their shoulders and start marching out the door.

To both my left and right, the other three training arenas are emptying as well. The twenty in each of those groups are far more subdued. The seriousness of what will transpire in just a short time hangs heavily over each of them.

I don’t bother waiting around for the men to put Mellcom down so we can walk home together. I slip into the crowd making their way toward their houses and their silence comforts me.

None of them attempt to talk to me, nor do I talk to them.

Honestly, I understand their dislike of me. My beliefs go against all of theirs. I’m not the only one who feels that way. I’m just the only one who shouted it out for everyone to hear and know.

If I’d never let Mellcom’s words provoke me last Veiling, they never would have known how I felt. I always politely smiled and changed the subject when anyone ever talked to me about which god I prayed to the most or asked if I wanted to visit a temple with them.

They used to tease me about my last name.

Godrun.

They said it’s written for me in the stars and one day, I’d run right to the gods. My outburst about how I didn’t give a shit about them blindsided the entire region.

Contrary to my actions and what everyone now believes, I do, in fact, talk to a god .

One. Singular.

I definitely don’t pray to him. I more so cuss him out for every little thing he’s worth.

He responds, unfortunately.

Our relationship is fitting. He’s a god that the other gods have disowned. I’m a woman who’s disowned them all.

Aside from him, who I’ve been brutally honest with most of my life, the only people to ever know my true beliefs were Mellcom and his father, Meridamus.

Meridamus was… is my parents’ best friend.

Hence why I was left in his care.

The longing that pinches in my chest steals the air from my lungs. I throttle those thoughts to the far reaches of my mind and stare down at the dust covering my shoes as I force myself to put one foot in front of the other.

I won’t be going down that slippery slope today of all days.

Bodies continue to bustle around me as their serious demeanors give way to the thrill. Laughter reaches my ears as it dances from the crowd ahead on the dirt path. The wind blows, cooling my heated skin and carrying their excitement even farther.

The fresh scent of angel orchids and wild meadow grass flows through the trees that line our path and block our view from the remaining stretch of our region.

My taut muscles relax with the calming smells, and my head tilts back as I take a deep breath. The peaceful scent forces the stress in my shoulders to deflate.

Until a heavy, sweat-drenched arm plops down on them.

“You know better than to leave us behind, sweet T. We were worried sick about you limping home alone. I’d hate for something awful to happen to you today.”

“If you don’t remove your meaty arm from me, Jeremiah, I’ll do it for you. Permanently.”

His chuckle, followed by the rough squeeze he gives my shoulder, causes me to ball my fist and clench my jaw.

I loathe him and his touch. Now.

“Aw, come on. Tell me you’re not upset over that kick. I didn’t even hit you that hard.”

Lying, pathetic, obsessive man.

“The little love tap was nothing. It’s the fact you smell like a dying oxid. I’m about to lose last night’s feast all over your feet from the stench. ”

My exaggerated gag draws the attention of the man and woman walking in front of us. Their disgusted glares bounce between the three of us before they hurry their steps.

Mellcom laughs beside me, then flicks Jeremiah’s hand off my shoulder. The sensitive man-child scoffs and mutters what a heathen I am while taking a step away from me.

I ignore them as they pick up their own conversation over my head. Their voices eventually fade from my ears as the trees on the border finally thin out, and the sun casts a warm morning glow across Oddian.

Home.

The crowd disperses in all directions as they make their way to their houses or a temple. The now clearing space gives me a perfect view of the busybodies in the center, a few hundred feet from us.

What would usually be an empty courtyard that’s large enough our entire region can fit in the space for meetings, gatherings, and celebrations, is being transformed into a ceremony circle fit for the gods.

Our best decorations, florals, and curtains line a platform that’s been staged right in front of the Grand Oddian Library. Its lavish appearance forces me to focus on what’s sitting on it.

The Volreen. A creation of the Beginning Gods.

There are four in existence.

White gems dot the sculpted bowl that sits on top of the ancient obsidian stone carved pillar. The creation appears as if the Valories themselves sliced and molded it from a piece of the night sky. It doesn’t hold liquid, smoke, or anything, for that matter.

Whatever floats inside of it is the pure essence of the Beginning Gods and a touch of the Valories.

I’ve never dared reach my hand near it, but I’ve watched others drop their blood inside.

Four of the six regions celebrate a Veiling Day. A Gods Chancellor escorts the sacred creations to the regions prior to the ceremony. This one arrived here at our little slice of paradise two days ago.

The Chancellor gave the same speech as every year, then he called upon all who wanted to enter. The lines instantly started forming. I stood back beside Mellcom as every member of our training group went up.

Each of them pricked or cut their finger and allowed their blood to sink into the Volreen. Just that little piece of your essence ties you to the Veiling .

There’s no backing out from there.

The Volreen measures your worth and potential power. Then it decides if you are one of the twenty across the realm strong enough to have your power returned to you.

They say only the strongest get chosen, but no one is exactly sure what strength is being measured. If it were just sheer strength, there are many here who should’ve been called over some of the past Chosen.

Mellcom bumps me with his arm, nodding toward our house. “We don’t have much time and I’m starving.”

“I’m thinking about whipping up some of those berry cheesecake crepes. Those were so good.”

“You and your mortal recipes.”

My nostrils twitch at Jeremiah’s intrusion. He’ll be eating with us, yes, but that doesn’t give him a say in what I cook. He needs to be happy I prepare enough to include him.

Today may be the day I poison him.

“You know, I’ve never heard you complain about eating anything that was recorded from the nonmagical realm unless I bring it up.”

“That’s because you’re obsessed with them and the Unclaimed. It’s a disgrace.”

“You’re a dis—”

“Enough, both of you.”

Mellcom’s bark has Jeremiah and me sending each other scathing looks, but we hold back any more remarks. I really can’t stand him. It’s only got worse since the breakup.

So much for thinking we could “be friends.”

We walk the remaining distance to our house in silence and the annoyance leaks out of me as I return a wave to our neighbors.

One of whom is about the only friend I have, my best friend.

The other beside him is his adorable little sister.

She’s so precious and always brings a smile to my face with how eager she gets to see me.