The Spirit

Yared’s soul had a magnetic calm about it.

The Abyss was supposed to be the embodiment of sorrow, pain and fear. So far, it had lived up to its reputation. The only fate worse than the Hells. Nothing else existed here apart from the darkness around you, the darkness within you, and the wait for the horrid and painful end of your existence. The most thorough end there was.

But his soul defied all of that. He met panic with peace, tempered the torture, and faced the bleak reality around us with warmth and light.

The same couldn’t be said for the God we were following.

“Well then,” he’d said hours ago, shifting from foot to foot, “This is…nice.”

A beat of heavy silence. Distant wails of torment.

“So,” he’d gone on, settling back into his form like shifting sand, “Shall we take this conversation elsewhere?”

My eyes darted between the God and Yared, confused. Elsewhere? Where was elsewhere? The Abyss was the end of the road. Nowhere to go.

But then, without another word, Love had turned and begun to walk into the gloom, humming a melody as he went.

Nothing else to do, we followed. That had been hours ago. Maybe a day. It was impossible to tell here. I began to think he was leading us into the same endless field of shadows, until I noticed something.

The Abyss changed the more we walked. Some unknown shift in the air. The screams and shuffling faded. The prickling energy was calmer, and I felt marginally more at ease. It wasn’t exactly comfortable or safe, but the sense of impending doom seemed more distant. I didn’t feel like an Abyssal would creep out of the shadows at any moment and tear us apart. That alone was a massive improvement in my eyes.

But that wasn’t all. The oppressive semi-cold had changed; the difference between standing in a hailstorm versus a mist after rain in springtime. The realization hit me like a wall, making me pause.

Why was I able to draw that comparison, but not remember anything about the life I’d had? Not even my name. I still didn’t know who I’d been, but my soul recalled these sensations.

Because you’re torn, said a voice in my head. A dark current that coiled and uncoiled itself with each of my thoughts.

Broken.

But then one final voice echoed in my mind, so feint I may have imagined it. But it was there. Soft, but strong enough to ground me.

Souls are never broken, Curadh. Only lost for a little while.

Yared paused with me, a line forming between his brows as he looked down at my small form. The God of Love made it several more strides before he noticed our footsteps had stopped. His shoulders lifted in a shrug, sighing.

“Well I guess this is as good a place as any.”

“Where are we?” I asked, leaning into Yared’s warmth. The soul of light glanced down at me then, his eyes sad.

“You can’t see it?” asked Love, waving around us. Waving at the blackness and shadows. I tracked the motion, feeling a new sensation apart from the ever-present fear. Annoyance.

“There’s only shadows.”

Love began to laugh melodically, a seam of a smile going through the featureless face as it looked at Yared again. It began to shift into Clara once more, the form achingly beautiful.

”Don’t just stand there like stumps!” he said once he’d finished, “Tell me your names!”

Yared stared at him, his eyes softening as he glanced up and down Clara’s silhouette, and then lingering on the clouded eyes.

“Yared,” he said cautiously, “How can you see us?”

Love strode forward, Clara’s black curls bouncing.

”Oh I can sense souls, and see who they love the most. All Gods can do something of that nature. Didn’t you know that?” he said, canting his head to the side. His voice was still far too loud, too cheerful for this place.

”What we see in the mind is usually much more important than what the physical realm tells us—oof!”

His foot caught on the ground, sending him sprawling.

Yared rushed forward, helping him to his feet. His fingers lingered on Love’s arm, Clara’s arm, before shaking his head and stepping back. His eyes were distant, his brows drawing up as his aura dimmed.

The way his light faded seemed scarier than anything I’d seen so far in this realm.

Love’s head snapped in his direction, his eyes changing color from clouded gray, to nearly black. Like the sky before a storm.

With no warning, Love threw his arms around Yared, kissing him on the cheek.

“Oh you poor Souling! You miss her so much, and you love her so deeply! I’m so sorry!”

Yared’s shoulders stiffened, his hand coming up to pat Love’s shoulder. Clearly he was less than thrilled about having his feelings broadcasted.

”Um, thank—”“

But Love was already turning, backing away from him to look at me. Unnerved, I took a step back. He approached me slowly, stooping down and reaching out with a hand to graze my cheek.

Gods, his touch was wonderful. Addictive as any drug. Wanting. Comfort. Warmth. Not the type of warmth that made someone sweat, but the inner warmth of happiness. Contentment in that someone cared for you. That he not only saw me, but saw me.

Well. Love. It felt like love. I somehow knew it without knowing.

“And you,” he said soberly, orbs getting lighter until they were completely white, “I get nothing whatsoever from you.”

Another tilt of the head.

“No wonder. You’re very damaged.”

Something dark purred against my soul again, but Love didn’t notice.

He smiled, standing again and taking the comfort with him. The despair of the Abyss seemed to double, and I fought the urge to curl into a ball because of it.

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And then Yared’s hand was on my shoulder, bathing me in light. Love grinned again, showing off Clara’s white teeth. Gods, whoever she’d been, she was perfect. Yared seemed to agree, his eyes taking in Love whenever he thought we weren’t looking.

Love, leaned a his head into his hand, thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers.

“Yes!” He cried triumphantly, “We’ll just have to put you back together then! Your soul is most peculiar, and I’d hate for it to be eaten.”

I stiffened.

“Put me back together?”

Love pointed Yared’s way.

”It’s what hubby managed to do.”

”Don’t call me hubby—”“

”Whatever you wish, Lovebug!” Love replied, batting Clara’s thick lashes at him.

Yared sighed, massaging his eyes.

“My soul isn’t back together yet, Little One. But it’s close.”

Love crossed his arms.

“Well if you keep using pieces of your soul to blast wraiths away, then you’ll never be back together!”

Yared waved him away, sending me a gentle smile. He looked at me for a long moment, sadness touching the corners of his eyes even as his smile held.

”We should be more concerned about her.”

Love’s brows climbed toward his hairline, eyes going from me to Yared and back. After a pause he breathed out a sigh, sober for once.

”Oooh.”

Yared yelped as he was encased in another hug.

“You cannot help her,” Love said into his neck, pulling back to stand in front of him,”You can’t mend her seams for her. She has to do it herself. And if you stay much longer, you might miss your voyage the Far Shore—”“

”Fighting for and fighting with are two different things,” Yared said firmly.

Silence settled over us, Yared’s gaze meeting mine. My head was spinning, trying to wrap my mind around what they were saying.

I wasn’t broken beyond repair. I could find the missing pieces of myself. Leave. Go to the Far Shore. Hope bloomed in my chest.

But then something dark passed over my eyes. Yared and Love were still talking, beginning to bicker playfully. But their voices sounded far away. Cold prickled harder on my skin, but it wasn’t unpleasant this time. Oddly familiar.

Liars.

The voice trailed across my mind like smoke, leaving numbness in its wake.

This is what the Abyss does. You will sentence his soul to extinction just so you can delude yourself into believing you can leave.

I shook my head, trying to focus on Yared and Love. They were looking at me now with knitted brows, but I could still barely hear them. There were only the thoughts, and a steady pressure building behind my eyes.

All these events? They are just so you can taste hope, only to have it ripped away later. The Abyss can always take more from you. And you will drag him down with you. That selfishness is why you are here in the first place.

I cradled my head in a hand, shutting my eyes.

No! Love said it was possible. He wouldn’t lie to me.

A raspy laugh.

Tell yourself that. Are you going to trust a God again? A God who wanders the Abyss?

Yared took a step toward me. Then another.

The Abyss will tear you apart until you are nothing. And he will suffer that fate with you. Again.

“You’re wrong,” I muttered before I could stop myself. Another laugh, and the darkness retreated.

Love didn’t seem to hear, but Yared dropped to one knee in front of me.

”Little One, are you—“

“So it’s decided!” Love cried suddenly, clapping his hands as he glided between several different forms. A shapely woman with dark hair, a teenage-looking boy with olive skin and shining golden hair, and an older woman whose spine was bent with age.

Finally, after some muttered curses, he settled on a tall man with broad shoulders, white hair, and beard. Pale eyes stared out from the handsome face, and I realized he was wearing a soldier’s uniform. He saluted, gesturing to the gloom around us.

“What’s decided?” I asked carefully, looking from Yared to Love. The God had been helpful so far, if not a bit eccentric. But the question took root in my mind as I glanced warily at him.

What was a God doing here?

”We’ll help you mend your soul,” Love replied, fingers combing his close-cropped white beard, “And then we’ll see Yared to the Far shore.”

Yared frowned at that. So did I.

”And her too, correct?” He asked, hand resting lightly on my shoulder again.

Love shrugged, glancing sidelong at me.

”With Love on your side m’dear, you can make it happen,” he said, his grin turning a tad shit-eating, “If I say so myself. But ultimately it’s up to you.”

He looked at me, then looked at me, head tilting to the side.

”However, it looks like you’re off to a great start!”

He sighed dramatically when I just stared at him, confused.

“You took a piece of soul away from your wraith, you scrappy little thing!”

“Wait, my wraith?”

Love chuckled.

“Yes. The worst parts of yourself that coalesce into a monster. A wraith. Most souls make them when they die.”

He looked at Yared.

”Most, but not all.”

Ice spread through me again.

”I don’t want to merge with it. Can I leave that part out?”

Love canted his head to the side, something like pity pulling at the corners of his clouded eyes.

“Darling girl, you have to love all parts of yourself to become whole. You want to go to the Far shore, right?”

Yared met my eyes, nodding. A brief breath, and then I nodded too.

“Fine, but how do I—“

Love’s hand grasped on my arm before I could second-guess myself, and suddenly that dark current was back. Needs, desires, and pain rippled through me. I was falling, the Abyss fading to nothing but a pure black behind my eyes.

A cold burn was pulling at some frayed edge inside me. Raw parts where my soul was torn. I didn’t remember dying, but surely it couldn’t have been worse than this. Ice and fire gouging like a thousand needles. Pinning me down as the darkness loomed. Red eyes bled into the black, watching as I was dragged closer. I wasn’t going willing, my body going stiff as the inner part of my soul recoiled against it.

“Don’t fight it, Little One. It will be okay,” Yared’s voice called from far away. But it wasn’t fine. Nothing about this was. I was thrashing now. Screaming. Desperate to get away from Love’s iron grip. The dark current was churnin, trying to pull me into it. The red eyes stared out from the blackness behind my lids, and I was losing strength. The closer it came, the more it hurt. And in that moment I wanted to fade into nothing. The void was surely better. Anything was.

But the darkness outpaced me, and eventually I had no choice.

And then I had no choice.

*******

I wanted out. I didn’t know what that meant other than some indistinct yearning. A call from something beyond shadows. Beyond the Abyss. Smell was the first thing that hit me. Damp rock. Gravestones on a cold and rainy night. Freshly turned earth and mossy ground.

The slow rot of a corpse encased in a wood coffin.

I stand, shovel in hand, before a hole dug in late Autumn. The leaves around me have changed color, and a polished wood coffin lays next to the hole. My arms burn with the effort. There’s supposed to be wounds on me, I know this, but they have healed already because of Death’s “gift”. My Chosen abilities.

And a voice stirs within me, whispering of revenge. Thirsting for blood.

I have been by gravesides too often in my short life. A flash comes of a woman in a sick bed, and a child begging for her to not die. To live. But my mother’s wounds and sickness take her anyway.

I see a beautiful woman with eyes like a lioness and auburn curls cascading down her back as I mend her bruised knuckles. She tells me she will be fine even as she packs for a suicide mission. That she will come home. That I should focus on my healing while she goes to make us safer. To make our town safer.

She is wrong.

Cruel burn marks litter her body the next time I see her. I cannot stop starting at the tear tracks coming from eyes that no longer see. Eyes that have clouded over. Her body has been left in the sun, gathering flies.

I shuddered, still trapped. The dark current threatened to bury me. I was sure this would never end, and I cannot control it. Powerless and a prisoner to nightmares made true.

But then I saw something else. These images weren’t as strong as the others, but they were there nonetheless.

In my grief I am training. Growing. Getting stronger. Muscles burn as a fist meets my stomach. I train to holster and unholster a pistol again and again. I aim at targets until I hit without even thinking about the shot. I want revenge. Blood. I want to hear them scream and beg for mercy. But something is more important to me, hidden under the sadistic thoughts and gunsmoke. More important than the pain and the Marks on my neck.

Resolve.

I would learn. I would fight, I would pay my debt, and kill them all in the process.

And then I would see her again.

“Fay,” I whispered aloud.

There was a near-audible hum as the ice faded, but the memories remained. My memories. No longer an empty shell of soul, but more akin to a person. And then my soul was growing, my limbs lengthening. It was strength, sadness, and the smallest trickle of power. Still there beneath a leash of control, but more manageable.

Eyes still shut, I heard Love shuffle in front of me.

“Souling, do you remember your name now?”

I opened my eyes, but kept them trained on the floor as the last of the memories faded and I came back to the present. To the Abyss around me.

”Rowena.”

The word came out in a breath, and in a voice that sounded older. More rough. It felt strange to say it, but something in me warmed as the word escaped me. So I tried it again.

“My name is Rowena McAlister.”

Yared’s hand came down on my shoulder, his light growing brighter as I looked up at Love.

But it wasn’t the form of the soldier with white hair that greeted me.

It was Fayra.