The Midnight Realm – Chronicles of the Stone Veil Read Online Sawyer Bennett

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
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“What do you need?” I ask him, actually grateful for the interruption. I wasn’t feeling it tonight with the blue beauty lounging naked on my bedroom floor.

His head whips my way. “They await you on the Bridge of Judgment, Your Most Muscled Eminence.”

I look past the ridiculous name as I’d forgotten all about my judgment duties, but it’s my excuse to take my leave of Sorcha. She’d told me to relax, but I don’t have the ability. I’m too wound up over my imprisonment, so the thought of tossing souls into the Crimson River is more to my liking than sex. Perhaps by causing others suffering, mine won’t seem as bad.

Glancing back at Sorcha, I say, “Go home to Calashte. I won’t be back anytime soon.”

She pouts as she rises, nabbing the nearly translucent dress she arrived in. “I think I’ll go visit Jago instead.”

If she thought her statement would make me jealous, she’s misjudged me for thousands of years. “Give Jago my regards.”

Sorcha glares, and without putting her dress on, blinks out of sight. I imagine she’s appearing before Jago right now, and given her nakedness and beauty, she’ll get what she wants.

I motion with my hand, and Calix precedes me out the door. I follow him through the castle.

My abode is neither humble nor cozy. Created from black obsidian, crystals, and glass, it’s so one-dimensional that I sometimes get disoriented walking the halls. Kymaris did like to make a statement with her inherent wickedness, and black is the in color for all villains.

Well, not all villains. While I like black, I like other colors too. Maybe I need to make some changes to this dark monstrosity the way I have with the makeup of the Underworld itself. When Zora bestowed the weight of king upon me, she gave me incredible power to wield in my rule. With that power, I changed the very landscape of the Underworld to make it more visually palatable. There are thousands of Dark Fae, daemons, and even some humans who live in this underbelly dimension, and there’s no reason it can’t be a bit more comfortable.

When we were cast from Heaven eons ago, it was meant to serve as a punishment. But we’ve done our penance.

As we walk toward the bridge, Calix says, “Skicru is here to see you.”

I blink in surprise. She’s one of the heads of the five noble lines in the Underworld. “Did she say what she needed?”

“Only that it was private and would not take much of your time.”

I nod but don’t respond. Skicru will have to wait until after I render my judgments. It’s an event that calls out the inhabitants of Otaxis, the capital of the Underworld.

The Bridge of Judgment is a massive obsidian walkway that connects the castle to the city. It crosses the Crimson River that flows two hundred feet below, constantly churning and bubbling with the violent souls of the condemned.

Halfway across the bridge, a slab of flat rock juts out. Upon it sits the throne made of ebony crystal from which Kymaris used to rule. I had it relocated from the castle out here to the bridge for a few reasons. Mostly, I hate sitting in it, and since I conduct most of my business inside the castle’s throne room, I wanted it to be more comfortable for myself.

Out here, I don’t use it often, but it is rather imposing. As I decide the fate of those who come before me, I don’t ever want them feeling safe. They’re in Hell for a reason, and I want their fear maximized.

On the far side of the bridge, two Dark Fae wait with a long line of recently departed humans here to be judged. Those fae are part of what would be considered a royal guard. They wear the same clothing Kymaris had put them in—pure black from head to toe, including helmets with face shields. Tall, brawny, and intimidating, these fae ensure the humans remain cowed and don’t cause trouble.

As I walk to the throne, I take in the landscape of Otaxis and beyond. I’ve changed it a great deal. Before, it resembled a dark cavern with a craggy ceiling so high up and dark, it was hard to see. The buildings were all made of brown mud, stone, and wood. The only light came from the glowing red river and by torches throughout the city. Dull and depressing, and I still feel tremendous guilt that this was all Zora ever knew for twenty-eight years of her life.

The changes I’ve made are quite beautiful. I first used my powers to clean up the city. Buildings are now pristine whitewashed stone, veins of magical light run down the center of all streets providing a warm glow, and streetlamps abound with the same soft light.

On the outskirts of Otaxis, I birthed night-blooming trees and carved a crystal-clear river, cool and refreshing, through the rocky hills. It is the antithesis of the Crimson River.


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