Chapter 20: The City of the Living
The world shattered like glass.
One moment, Jack and Elara stood in the crumbling graveyard of the Starved Saint's realm, the air thick with the scent of rot and celestial decay. The next—
Sunlight.
Real, unfiltered, *human* sunlight.
Jack flinched as the warmth struck his face, hissing through his teeth. It had been too long since he'd stood beneath a sun that didn't belong to the Veil. The light here was different—harsher, brighter, *alive*. It didn't bend around him like the muted glow of the spirit world. It *burned*.
Elara staggered beside him, blinking rapidly. Her gloves still smoldered with fading crimson energy, but the threads dissipated the moment the last remnants of the Veil collapsed behind them.
They stood in an alley.
A *normal* alley.
Damp brick walls, the distant clatter of carriage wheels, the murmur of voices—real, living voices. No whispers of the dead. No hollow-eyed specters watching from the shadows. Just… people.
Jack exhaled, flexing his fingers. The absence of the Veil's pressure was dizzying.
"This is Twin City," Elara murmured, brushing dust from her coat. "A place untouched."
Jack's lips curled. *Untouched—for now.*
---
The city breathed.
Not in the way the spirit realm had—a slow, rotting gasp—but in bursts of noise and motion. Carriages rattled down cobbled streets, their horses' hooves striking the stone in a rhythm that felt like a heartbeat. Vendors shouted over one another, hawking fresh bread, spices, trinkets. The scent of roasted chestnuts and spiced wine curled through the air, warm and inviting. Children darted between stalls, their laughter sharp against the hum of daily life. A street musician plucked at a lute, his song weaving through the chatter like a golden thread.
Jack walked unseen among them, a shadow in daylight.
No one glanced his way. No one *felt* him. The Veil's influence didn't stretch here, and without it, he was little more than a bad dream—a flicker at the corner of the eye, gone before the mind could register it.
Elara, however, drew eyes.
A woman in a torn coat, bloodied gloves, and the sharp gaze of someone who had just stepped out of a nightmare. She moved with purpose, ignoring the wary glances, and stopped at a fruit stall.
The vendor—a round-faced woman with sun-weathered skin—smiled, but her fingers tightened around the knife she used to slice apples.
"New to the city?" she asked, too casually.
Elara dropped a few copper coins on the counter. "Just passing through."
The woman relaxed slightly, scooping up the coins. "Well, welcome to Twin City. Named after the old town that burned down in the war. Folks rebuilt it bigger—twice as strong." She gestured to the bustling street. "Nothing haunts these streets but memories."
*If only that were true.*
Jack's crows were restless. They perched on rooftops, their feathers still speckled with starlight from the Saint's essence. Only he could see them. Only he could feel their hunger.
The Hollow Maw couldn't reach here.
*Not yet.*
But it was waiting.
---
Elara turned down a quieter street, Jack a silent presence at her side. The buildings here were older, their brickwork worn smooth by time. Flower boxes hung from windows, spilling late-blooming ivy and crimson geraniums. A cat stretched lazily on a windowsill, its tail flicking as it watched them pass.
"We need to erase Lorian's mark on you," Jack said, voice low. "The Academy's magic is a beacon. The Maw will come for you again."
Elara didn't argue. She knew the stakes.
A flicker of movement—a man stepping into their path.
"Hey there, lovely." His grin was all teeth, his eyes darting between Elara and the shadows where Jack stood unseen. "You look lost."
Elara sighed. "Move."
The man chuckled, gesturing to the alley behind him. Four more figures stepped into view, knives glinting. "How about a drink first?"
Jack tilted his head. *Ah.*
Humans.
Foolish, predictable humans.
Elara cracked her knuckles. "Last chance."
The leader lunged.
She broke his nose with a single punch.
The fight was over in seconds. Elara moved like a storm—precise, brutal. Bones cracked. Men groaned in the dirt. The last one standing turned to run—
—and froze as Jack materialized in front of him.
The man's breath hitched. His pupils dilated.
"W-What—?"
Jack smiled.
The crow on his shoulder *moved*.
It plunged into the man's open mouth, down his throat, into the pit of his stomach. The man convulsed, clawing at his chest, his veins turning black beneath his skin. Then—stillness.
He dropped to his knees.
"My lord."
Jack exhaled, rolling his shoulders. The man's eyes were dark now, speckled with stars. A perfect vessel.
Elara wiped blood from her lip. "That was excessive."
"It was necessary." Jack flicked his fingers, and the newly claimed man stood, his movements smooth, unnatural. "The Maw can't cross where the Veil doesn't reach… but we can prepare."
The crow inside the man's chest pulsed.
Somewhere, far away, the Hollow Maw stirred.
Jack grinned.
*Let it come.*
---
Night fell over Twin City.
Lamps flickered to life along the streets, casting long shadows. Laughter spilled from taverns, the clink of glasses and the murmur of drunken confessions filling the air. A couple argued on a balcony, their voices sharp before dissolving into laughter. A child cried for a lost toy, only to be soothed by a mother's lullaby.
Normal.
*Alive.*
Jack stood atop a clocktower, watching it all. His crows circled above, their wings brushing against the edges of the world.
The Veil was thin here.
But not thin enough.
Not yet.
Elara joined him, her crimson gloves now clean, her expression unreadable. "What now?"
Jack didn't answer immediately. Below, their new servant walked into a crowded inn, his steps steady, his smile too wide.
*Infiltration. Corruption.*
*Preparation.*
"Now," Jack said softly, "we wait."
The city slept, unaware.
The Hollow Maw dreamed.
And the crows watched.
---
Dawn came too soon.
As the first light touched the rooftops, a scream pierced the morning calm.
In a narrow alley, a baker found the body.
A man, his chest torn open, his ribs splayed like broken wings. His eyes were gone—only star-filled voids remained.
The city guard arrived, their faces pale. They whispered of wild animals, of madmen.
But Jack knew the truth.
The first thread of the Veil had slipped through.
And the Hollow Maw was patient.
*So was he*
---