The final two segments of Lunara’s Veil are now live:
“Coda: The Firefly’s View” and “Da Capo: The Next Pilgrim.” Together, they complete the cycle.
One is a coda.
One is a return.
Both are part of her rhythm.
While I often write about transformation, Lunara’s Veil is not the neat, empowering kind of transformation. Avery sheds his shame, yes. But he also fades into something larger. His shape softens. His name slips. It's transformation by absorption. What remains is part man, part myth, and fully Lunara's.
And then, another arrives. The gate opens and the pattern repeats—not as a loop, but as a rhythm.
When I was younger, I really enjoyed The Martian Chronicles. Bradbury’s science fiction was more than lasers and spaceships. In several of those stories, people arrive on Mars and slowly become someone—or something—else. Not by force, but by exposure. By proximity. By letting go.
That quiet shift is part of what led me to write Lunara's Veil.
Avery’s journey isn’t about conquering anything. It’s about being changed by contact. About dissolving into something older, more sacred, and maybe even more honest. Whether that’s loss or liberation is left for you, the reader, to decide.
—Eric