As the first light of dawn broke over the islet, David and James worked silently, repairing their battered boat. The storm had left deep gashes in the wood, and the sail hung in tatters. Every nail driven into the hull felt like a step closer to hope or despair.
By mid-morning, the boat was ready. They pushed it back into the ocean, its hull groaning against the waves. Exhausted but determined, they climbed aboard and set sail, leaving the eerie island and its lingering shadows behind.
But as they ventured farther into the vast, endless blue, a sobering realization struck them: they were utterly lost. The storm had tossed them wildly, and now, with no clear direction, they drifted aimlessly. The compass, shaken by the storm, spun erratically, refusing to offer guidance.
David squinted at the horizon, his jaw clenched. "Do you recognize anything, James? Any landmarks?"
James shook his head, his hands gripping the side of the boat. "Nothing. It's all water. We're not just off course… we're nowhere."
The ocean stretched endlessly, their supplies were low, and the weight of uncertainty pressed heavily on them. David glanced at the map they'd found the night before. Its cryptic symbols and markings seemed to mock him.
"That shadow… it said to follow the map," David murmured, his voice tinged with desperation. "But what good is a map if we don't know where we are?"
James sighed, wiping sweat from his brow. "Well, we just have to figure out something. We've faced worse and overcome, so we will overcome this, sob let's start with what we have: the sun, the stars. We'll chart a course, even if it's blind."
With a deep breath, David nodded. "Then let's hope the ocean favors us."
The boat gently rocked on the open sea, as night fell, shrouding everything in a blanket of darkness. David and James lay flat on their backs, staring up at the vast sky above them. The boat drifted aimlessly, its sails catching the occasional gust of wind. The silence was profound, with nothing but the creaking of the boat and the occasional splash of water.
David, lost in thought, suddenly noticed something in the sky, a constellation that seemed oddly familiar. It looked like something he'd seen before, maybe even on the beach. He squinted, trying to make sense of it. "Mate... this looks familiar," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
James turned to him, also staring at the sky. "Yeah, you're right... there's something about it."
David's eyes widened. "Wait... I know what it is! That journey!" He scrambled for his bag, searching through it,for his father's journal. After a few moments, he found the journal. He flipped it open, his fingers flipping through the pages until they landed on a section with sketches of the stars.
"Here!" David exclaimed, pointing at a drawing in the book. "This pattern, it's the same! These are the stars from Jonah's story.
"We're in Tarnard vale," he muttered under his breath, looking up to the stars again.
He kept following the pattern in the journal, and as his finger moved along the lines, the meaning became clear. They were approaching Star Falls. The journal described it vividly—a thousand stars falling from the sky like a meteor shower, a celestial event that could only occur in this specific part of the ocean.
David's breath caught in his throat. Without warning, he glanced straight ahead, and there it was, a streak of light, followed by another, and then another. Stars began to fall from the sky in a cascade, each one burning brightly as it descended toward the ocean's surface. The meteor shower was happening before his eyes, just like the journal had predicted. David and James was amazed at the sight, it was a beautiful thing to behold.
David glanced at the journal again, his fingers shaking slightly as he turned the pages. His eyes widened when he saw the next part of the diagram. "The Veil of the Raid," he murmured, recognizing the name. The journal warned of a mysterious place that sailors spoke of in hushed tones, a place where the ocean and sky seemed to merge into a thick, swirling mist. It was said to be a dangerous part of the sea, where the boundaries of the world felt blurred, and nothing was ever as it seemed.
James, sensing the change in the atmosphere, looked around, his brow furrowed. "What's happening, David? What's this place?"
David didn't answer immediately. He felt it—the oppressive stillness in the air, the eerie calm that came before the storm. The boat was no longer gliding smoothly on the water but seemed to slow, as if it was caught in some invisible grip.
"We're in the Veil of the Raid," David said. The veil of the raid, "what the hell is that" James exclaimed, a bit of fear written all over his face.
The sea was eerily calm, its surface like a mirror, reflecting nothing but the ominous stones rising from the depths. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the soft creaking of the boat as it glided through the water at the beats of their hearts.
Suddenly, a low, guttural sound echoed through the mist, a sound that seemed to come from the depths of the ocean itself. It was faint at first, almost like the whisper of a distant wind, but it grew louder, closer, until it felt as though the very sea was breathing.
James looked over at David, his face pale. "Did you hear that?"
David didn't answer. His eyes scanned the horizon, but there was nothing there, nothing but the looming stones and the dark water. Yet the sound continued, a rhythmic, heavy pulse, like the heartbeat of something massive, lurking just beneath the surface.
Then, without warning, the water around them began to churn. Waves, small at first, began to crash against the boat, making it lurch and sway. But there was no storm, no wind. They could see something stirring beneath them, something unseen.
A shape broke the surface of the water, just ahead. At first, it was nothing more than a shadow, but as it drew closer, David's breath caught in his throat as they both clunged to each other, their hands shaking. The creature, massive and serpentine, rose from the ocean it was like a nightmare that has find it's way to life. Its skin was a dark, slick gray, glistening in the dim light, and its eyes, were pools of black emptiness, filled with an ancient malevolence.
David's heart raced. "What in God's name is that?" he whispered, more to himself than to James.
James's voice trembled. "It's not in the book, David. This wasn't supposed to happen."
The creature moved closer, its long, sinuous body coiling through the water with terrifying grace. Its head emerged fully from the depths, and David saw that its jaws were lined with jagged, razor-sharp teeth, teeth that could rip through steel, let alone flesh. It opened its mouth, releasing a deafening screech, a sound that made the hairs on the back of their necks stand up.
The boat rocked violently, the water around them bubbled and boiled, as though the very sea itself had turned against them. David grabbed the sides of the boat, struggling to keep his balance as the waves grew more erratic.
"James!" David shouted. "We need to get out of here!"
But it was too late. The creature surged forward, its massive tail striking the boat with a force that sent them both sprawling. The boat tipped dangerously, and for a moment, David thought they were going to capsize. He fought to hold on, his hands shaking as he grasped at the nearest object.
The creature's eyes fixed on him, and for the briefest moment, David could swear he saw something in them—something not just predatory, but knowing. "Death", David heart leaped as the beast strike towards him but missed, the beast retreated as ready to sway another punch at David but then suddenly the creature disappeared back beneath the waves, as if something had chased it back. The water settled, and the boat stopped rocking. Silence returned, but it was the kind of silence that felt wrong and unnatural.
David sat there, breathing heavily, his heart still racing. He glanced at James, whose face was pale and stricken with fear.
"We can't stay here," David said, his voice hoarse. "We need to get out of the Veil. Now."
But the path ahead was still unclear. The Veil of the Red had shown them its true face, and it wasn't just the dangers of the place that they had to fear, it was the madness that it could unleash, a madness that could slowly strip them of their humanity.