Overhead, red seeped across the sky like paint on a canvas. It swept up past the treeline, devouring the oranges and violets of sunset, swallowing each of the stars until they shone scarlet, as though trapped behind a window of stained glass. Soon the sky was red across every stretch of the horizon. This was the fall of the Blood Veil, the signal of the tournament’s beginning. Day and night, Ilvernath would remain a haunting crimson until all but one of the champions were dead. Isobel turned around to see the other, inner Veil that had fallen around the city, a darker curtain stretching from
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