Every choice echoes across worlds.
Freedom or Chaos;
Stability or Control?
The Edge of Oblivion
The Lesitha Veil Tales Book 1
by CM Dawson
Genre: Epic SciFi Fantasy Adventure
"We were younger than we realised and equally
naïve."
Dive into The Edge of Oblivion — a coming‑of‑age fantasy of secret map‑books, a
dying storyteller’s last wish, and a crystal key that reveals tears in reality.
Discover a richly imagined world, fast‑paced adventure, and a hero who must
choose between duty and destiny — buy now and step over the Veil.
The veil is weakening and shreds between the worlds are becoming more frequent.
Darkness is spreading. A new Rysyn is sought to replace the Torsoma before it’s
too late and the veil fails, releasing chaos across the facet worlds.
Bex Gartan has no desire to follow her father into the Grinders Guild – or die
of stone lung like he did. A rebellious 17-year-old, just weeks before her
Liberation Day, a brutal encounter shatters her world. In a shadowy alley, she
faces a tragedy and finds her destiny.
Bex's determination to find the truth pulls her into a conflict that spans
multiple worlds. She becomes the target of assassins, the pawn of questionable
advisors, and now the unlikely successor to the leader of the Facet worlds. Bex
must learn to temper her impulsive nature and trust her instincts if she’s to
save her friends, and the Facet worlds.
Will she be the saviour they seek or the herald of chaos?
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Chapter 16 Excerpt:
Then there was the Great Xan Janal, who claimed to
have gone over the Edge and slayed a mighty beast to save a village. He boasted
that there were many worlds, all separated by the Veil. There were people of
different races who spoke weird languages. Some were tall and fair with long,
flowing, silver hair. Others were short, squat, covered in fur and grunted a
lot. Those stories always made me laugh. My eyes blurred as tears welled up,
thinking of him. Whether they were real or figments of his imagination, Xan had
given his life to sharing his stories of adventure. And I wasn’t about to let
him down.
As I crawled on, I wondered which world I would find
on the other side of the Veil. Would it be a world of thick jungles, filled
with loud, screaming creatures jumping from one towering tree to the next? Or
would it be a crystalline world overflowing with unimaginable colours? I
was hoping for the water world, for Muut’s sake, except for the whole swimming
thing. That scared me.
I looked back again and then beyond Muut. I scanned
the horizon and watched as the heat rippled off the scorched ground. The only
things that stood as high as a man here were the boulders that dotted the
landscape. There was no lush green foliage, and the rivers were more often dry
more than filled with water. I dreamed of seeing the leaves of a plant that was
as big as me. I fantasised about dipping my fingers into a cool running stream
and carrying the refreshing water to my lips; skipping stones across its
surface and seeing splashes instead of puffs of dust.
I didn’t know if Xan’s stories were real or made-up
fantasies to impress the ladies. But what I knew was that I didn’t want to die
without at least attempting to find out. I owed him that much. So I turned back
and faced the Edge. I checked the straps that held my knives tucked against my
wrists. I placed my right hand out in front of me and then my right knee, then
my left hand, left knee. I slowly crawled to the Edge.
The fingers on my left hand reached it first. I
stopped and looked at my hand. The tips of my fingers curved over an edge. My
breath caught in my throat. I moved my right hand up to match my left and
swallowed deeply as the tips of both hands were now bent joyously over the Edge
of our world. I slowly lowered myself down to the rough ground and felt the
sharp rocks poking me in my chest and belly.
Carefully, I pulled my body up to the Edge and peered
over. The air coalesced into a swirling mist of obscurity, roiling and bulging,
causing my vision to slide and refocus as I tried to peer through it.
I pulled myself up to the Edge, raising onto my elbows
and stretching my neck as far as I could. The grey mist swirled around my head
forming dewdrops on my cheeks. I blew into it, watching as it whirled madly
away from me, quickly folding back in on itself. I extended my arm and felt a cool
dampness cover me like a second skin. The further I extended it, the less I
could see of it.
I pulled myself up and swivelled around to sit on the Edge
with my legs now dangling freely. My feet disappeared into the swirling mist
that roiled below me. Then I leaned out as far as I could and swished my arms
back and forth, trying to clear a view through the grey wall.
I either leaned too far or whipped my arms too wildly,
because I tumbled off the ledge into the mist. My heart leapt as I felt myself
sliding down the edge of the world. Suddenly, I jerked to a stop when the rope
tied to my ankle caught me tight. My breath gushed from my lungs and my heart
pounded my ribs.
I heard Muut calling to me, his cries distant,
muffled.
I hung for a moment, dangling upside down against the
edge of the world. I released my fear as I pushed myself up away from the rough
rock face. Curling my knees beneath me, I crouched for a moment, waiting to see
if I would fall. Nothing happened. The cool mist swirled around me; my head
swooned with the mesmerising movement.
I filled my lungs with the moist air and stood. Fully
expecting to topple over, I stretched my arms wide to catch myself when I did.
I stood there as rigid as a boulder with my arms spread, knees locked, breath
held, eyes tightly closed.
Nothing.
I slowly opened my left eye, peeking, face scrunched tight,
awaiting the imagined impact. Both eyes sprang open, and the air exploded out
of my lungs. A breathtaking view assaulted my eyes.
Dark Side of the Veil
The Lesitha Veil Tales Book 2
When Bexlin Gartan is kidnapped into a world of metal and
gears, the impulsive daughter of a storyteller must reclaim a stolen Lesitha
Crystal and learn why her blood marks her as the next Rysyn—before a tyrant
uses her power to shred the Veil and destroy everything.
Bex crossed the veil for adventure - now she may never return home, may never
see her ma again or laugh with her friends. Stranded in a dark Facet, ruled by
a tyrant set on seeking revenge and using her to fulfil his vengeance, she must
decide whether she will become his pawn or fight to save all she loves.
Separated from her friends, she convinces the strange mechanically augmented
half-lifes to help her find them and to return home, but not before she tries
to stop the demented ruler, Urbo'Krk. Uncertain who to trust or what the rising
energy building within her means, she must learn to control her impetuous ways
and calm her mind. Only then can she face the truth of her destiny - saviour or
destroyer.
Will she bring stability or usher in chaos?
**On Sale for Only .99cents on Amazon & Kobo!**
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Chapter 13 Excerpt:
“Come,” the ‘naut commanded.
I turned my attention back to the
wall where a trickle of moisture ran down a groove, around a rivet, and
disappeared behind the bench.
The white-hot tearing of my scalp
ripped a scream from my chest as the ‘naut yanked me to my feet by my braid. He
held me, dangling in the air for a moment before releasing me. My hands went to
my head and returned covered in blood.
“Come or be dragged.”
The warmth of the blood running
down my back held me for a moment. Then Tar was at my side, gripping my elbow
to guide me.
“Walk,” he commanded.
My legs felt like they were full of
sand, but I made them move as he guided me out of the cell and we followed the
‘naut through the maze of passages. “Where are you taking me now?” I
whispered.
Tar ignored my question, but I felt
a tightening on my elbow.
“Why are you helping someone like
him?”
Again, no response, but this time
there was a tug on my elbow. “Okay, at least tell me where you’re taking me?”
The massive head of the ‘naut
glanced back at us. “No speak. Walk.”
We rode up out of the cells in an
open lift. The fresh air felt good against my sweaty face. I studied the
bleak world of Vrellum as we rose and wondered if my friends were somewhere
lost in the labyrinthine maze of metal gantries and yellow haze.
The platform stopped and the ‘naut
led us out into brighter, well-lit passages. We were back in the fortress of
Urbo’Krk. We weren’t led to the main assembly chamber. This time the ‘naut led
me past the big wooden doors with the familiar motifs etched on them. Instead,
I was taken to a smaller chamber. As we entered, a light came on above a large
metal chair that sat in the centre of the room. There were straps on the arms
and the footrest. I stopped short, making Tar bump into me.
The ‘naut pointed. “Sit.”
I threw my head back, catching Tar
off guard and smashing his face, just missing his already flattened nose. My
elbow connected with his ribs, and I heard a satisfying grunt. Turning to run,
I wasn’t quick enough. The one-eyed Omaj blocked my exit, and the ‘naut grabbed
my shoulder, pinching me, and I screamed at the crushing of my bones. He threw
me into the chair, slamming my head against the upper backrest. I left a bloody
imprint from his earlier threat of dragging me. I tried to get up but felt pressure
on my chest. It forced me back into the chair.
“Enough.” Urbo’Krk stepped out of
the shadows with Cog at his side. He’d removed his cape and the silver
breastplate. He now wore a black vest that allowed him to display his
mechanical arms. Beneath the close-fitting fabric, I could see that his neck and
chest were flesh. There was a seam where the augmented arms attached to his
shoulders. The join was smooth and had a natural appearance as if the black
mesh were just another type of skin.
He leaned over me. His presence
felt heavy. The pressure built on my chest, and I tried to take a deeper
breath, but could only sip the air. I turned away and refused to acknowledge
him.
“Ah yes, you feel my strength.” He
stood and pointed at Tar. His energy pushed against me, pressing me into the
metal seat. Tar remained standing against the wall and motioned for Omaj to
strap my wrists and ankles to the chair.
“I wish to examine you.” He spoke
calmly as he turned and walked to a table that ran the length of one wall. “It
isn’t every day a Rysyn passes through my world.”
My teeth felt like they might pop
out as I spoke through my clenched jaw. “I’ve never heard of a Rysyn and don’t
know why you think I’m one. I was only looking for the truth.”
I glared at Tar as I spoke my
defiant words. His stoic face drew tight as he stared at me and shook his head.
Cog had stepped further into the room and now sat at my side. His quizzically
tilted head indicating his attention.
Urbo’Krk’s broad back hunched over
the table now straightened as he slowly turned back to look at me. “I will
learn what makes you a Rysyn,” his eyes flicked to Cog, “or I’ll make the cog
suffer for your defiance.”
Cog tilted his head as he gazed
from me to his master. I couldn’t be certain if he understood the threat that
Urbo’Krk had made, but I also wouldn’t be the reason that he suffered any
further abuse under this monster.
My jaw remained clenched as I
slumped defeated into the chair. Tears welled in my eyes as Urbo’Krk came
toward me carrying a mesh of wires.
“That’s better. Now sit still; this will hardly hurt.”
CM Dawson is an indie fantasy author and the founder of
Crystal Path Publishing, writing multi-world adventure fiction from the rolling
green hills of Wiltshire, England. Her debut series, The Lesitha Tales, follows
Bex Gartan — a headstrong, impulsive 17-year-old who finds herself thrust into
a power struggle that spans multiple worlds. Compared to Samantha Shannon,
Brandon Sanderson, and Suzanne Collins, the series blends fast-paced action,
vivid world-building, and a fierce coming-of-age heart. She crafts immersive
multiverse fantasy filled with emotional stakes, dark magic, and lore rich
worldbuilding. The first two books — The Edge of Oblivion and Dark Side of the
Veil — are available now. A space opera trilogy, a short story collection, and
a dystopian novel are all in development. When she is not writing, she can be
found gardening, editing the local parish magazine, playing skittles, or being
bossed around by her two English Bulldogs, Sage and Bubba.
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