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Deals With Deities: A Beginner's Guide
Lesson Two: Souls are Never Broken. Only Lost.

Lesson Two: Souls are Never Broken. Only Lost.

THE SPIRIT

“Hello, Little One.”

The man spoke as if the darkness was nothing to him. As if the thing that awaited within the shifting mists was nothing as well. He was light. The only light in this pitiless place. It hurt to look at him, but something told me to stay. To watch. To listen.

He inclined his head, his smile warm. He knelt before me, and that is when I realized I had a size. That I was small. Smaller than before.

Before?

“How did you come to be in such a terrible place?” he asked, steeping his hands over his knee. His voice was warmth. A warmth that penetrated the cold dread I had been feeling. I tried to remember the answer to his question, but it was frayed. Fragmented. I tried looking deeper into my mind, but–

Pain, deep and horrible, tore through me. My hands clenched my head as razor blades scraped against raw and empty places. Missing things.

“I’m broken,” I cried. The words left my lips before I even realized that I could speak. Curling in on myself, I trembled. Legs and arms folded together as I prayed for the agony to pass. My limbs felt like strangers, but thankfully they obeyed me.

Murmuring, the man leaned down. He lifted me gently into a half-sit, his hands as soft and gentle as his voice.

“Souls are never broken, Little One,” he said, managing a smile. He cupped my face, seeming to take in every detail. Lines formed between his brows.

“They’re only lost for a little while.”

I stared at him. Those words. I knew those words. Had heard them before. But they weren’t from him. I fought a scream as agony tore through me yet again. Breathing, it eventually passed. He waited patiently for me to answer, a knowing look in his eyes. As if he understood this pain.

“Then…I’m lost,” I said hesitantly, gathering my legs beneath me to stand. The man stayed kneeling, still taller than me. He steadied me, and though I knew the danger around us had in no way lessened, I didn’t feel afraid.

The corner of his lips lifted, his eyes softening. He stood as well, stooping to offer me a hand.

“Well then. Maybe we can be lost together.”

*******

There was little else to do but walk. The unending mists and echoes were disorienting. Unsettling sounds of screams abruptly cut off still came from left and right, but the man’s light seemed to keep the worst of it away.

We walked seemingly for an eternity, looking into the gloom that went on and on. Many times different souls came toward him. I leaned close to his side as I saw jagged bodies and hungry faces seeking the ray of his light. But as soon as they entered it, they all screamed and ran away. Creatures, darker than dark, would move after the souls.

They never made it far.

Eventually, we stopped seeing them altogether. Still, we walked, though I had no idea where we could go. This was a place of nothing. I had begun here, and this is where I would end. And yet I still followed him on and on, enjoying the distraction. If only for a moment.

I wondered why I wasn’t burned by his light like the others. But then again, I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer. Anything was better than waiting for one of those creatures to find me. For the end of all ends.

We didn’t speak, instead settling into companionable silence. Yared seemed to be looking for something I couldn’t see, but I didn’t mind. I was content to walk with him.

I was so absorbed in my thoughts, it took me too long to notice the change in our surroundings. His hand tightened on mine, his pace growing faster.

And that’s when I realized that we could no longer hear the screams. No longer hear the scuttling in the dark. Not so much as the scrape of claws. Nothing.

I stopped altogether, tugging Yared to a stop as well. The silence settled in on us full and complete.

And somehow that was worse than the screams. The whimpers of the hunted. The breath of the beasts.

Cold crept over us both, and I felt a distinct pressure build at my back. I could swear I saw motion at the edge of my vision, but no matter how I turned my head I couldn’t quite catch it.

On some instinct, I glanced fully behind me and immediately regretted it. A black mass moved in the dark, stalking us.

“Why are you looking back?” asked the man lightly as he urged me to walk again. He squeezed my hand gently.

“That’s not where we’re going. Don’t concern yourself with it.”

I glanced from him to the thing following us. Did he know what it was? It moved silently, eyeless and I couldn’t discern any true shape. I wondered if it was the reason for the lack of sound that had settled around us. Like everything was desperate to escape its notice.

“What’s your name?” he asked suddenly, drawing my attention again.

“Name?” I asked, confused. I didn’t have a name. I had always been here. Hadn’t I?

“Yes, your name,” he said with a laugh, as if I were the one being silly. But I didn’t understand. Why would he want to know? Why would I have a name? What good did a name do here?

“I don’t have one,” I replied, looking up at him.

“Everybody has one,” he corrected, glancing down at me before looking ahead once more, “Can’t you remember?”

I shook my head, my hand still clenched in his. The pressure on my back became stronger, and I knew that thing was drawing closer. I began to look behind us again, the fear returning.

“My name is Yared,” said the man suddenly, his hand squeezing mine again. I refocused on him.

“It was Yared?” I asked, my voice lifting. My legs were going numb, my feet slowing. The pressure grew until it was like walking through water.

“It is Yared,” he said, pulling me along as he noticed my slowing pace.

My breath came in rushed gasps as I noticed the cold drawing nearer. Nearer. Like mist whispering across stone. It prickled the back of my neck.

“Do you know what my name was?” I asked, my legs getting slower still.

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“I do know what your name is, Little One,” Yared said a crease between his brows,

“Is it Little One?” I asked, glancing up at him. He gave a close-lipped laugh, his eyes suddenly far away.

“It may as well have been, but unfortunately no.”

“But you do know what it is?”

“I want to tell you. More than you know. But I believe you need to remember it yourself.”

Frowning, I pulled my hand out of his grasp. A new sensation came then. Irritation.

“Why?”

He didn’t answer, his attention turning ahead. His mouth turned down as he considered the area around us. The pressure was tenfold now, making it hard to think. Yared seemed to feel it too, his eyes narrowed. He suddenly reached, catching my hand in his again as he motioned for me to follow. I didn't resist trying to see where he was taking us.

“Where can we go?” I asked, trying to keep up with him. But then he stopped, his arm going around my shoulders.

The silence had become deafening.

Yared’s jaw hardened, and he clenched my hand in an iron grip.

Finally, I followed his gaze.

The black mass had taken shape, standing on the fringes of my vision.

A shadow of a woman stood before us, hair unbound as it flowed in its own wind. She was tall. Adult sized. And a weapon was in each hand.

Slowly, the head went from Yared, and then focused on me. My breath hastened, my entire being shaking as we stared at one another. And then, like blood injected into a night sky, two eyes formed in the face. Black eyes with red irises.

“Little One,” said Yared, his hand resting high on my back. He didn’t glance at me but kept his eye trained on the woman.

“Run,” he whispered, and then he pushed me away.

Needing no further encouragement, I ran on unsteady legs. The mist was cold. Unforgiving. But that silent pressure trailed me.

A primordial roar shattered the silence, along with Yared’s grunt of effort. I didn’t dare to look back this time. I simply ran.

But I was weak, and the thing was powerful. I knew that for certain.

I wasn’t fast enough.

Yared yelled wordlessly, and then I felt her coming closer. A breath from my back.

The shadow was upon me in moments. Fingers like claws reached, grazing my back. And then ice was filling my veins. My entire being.

Oh Gods, the pain.

I was being eaten. Absorbed. Torn to more shreds than I already was. A thousand tiny hooks were pulling me toward that black. That icy darkness that woman was made of.

Screaming. I was screaming a high-pitched wail. And through the screams, something new came. A primal urge for survival. Beyond fear. Beyond rage.

It was like my body already knew what to do.

Tucking into a ball, I rolled with my momentum, shaking the claws off me. But as I pulled away, I could see I was taking some of the shadow with me. A dark vapor trailed after the severed contact, merging with my skin.

What–

The shadow’s own momentum carried her past where I had fallen, buying me precious seconds. Seconds I couldn’t waste on thinking. I pivoted backward, scrambling on hands and knees that still felt foreign. Wrong. I ran back to Yared, his light coming toward me.

He wrapped me in a hug as we both rounded back to the shadows.

Red eyes stared out of the gloom, the hum of an unpleasant laugh floating toward us. The shadow stared at us for a moment before stalking our way again. Unhurried this time.

And then she began to sing.

Do you wish to speak,

of the unspoken night?

I stilled. Something pulled within me. A ragged edge of my soul began to burn, radiating to where the shadow had grazed me.

of voices made silent,

of eyes robbed of light,

My hands hugged my middle as the cold in me spread. And then I was seeing flashes and fragments. Yared’s arms tightened around me, but I barely felt it. I was falling, flying through fragments of time. The Abyss dimmed around me, and I saw roads. People. I felt it too. The rage. The hate.

A woman in a soiled bed. Sweat on her brow from fever. A wound festering in her side.

People with brands on their skin laughing. Jeering.

Oh yes. And then there were flashes of power. Of the shadow punishing those responsible.

Sadness.

Hate.

It was horrible, but I knew it was mine. And I wanted it back.

And the shadow crept closer as I began to pull away from Yared. His grip tightened, but I was struggling now. Fighting to be one with the woman.

a nameless fear named

We call her the–

“Little One,” Yared said into my ear, cutting through the darkness, “Look at me.”

I didn’t want to. I wanted to sink into the shadow. I wanted that power that radiated from her. I wanted her rage. To punish.

To kill.

“It’s not your fault.”

Yared said the words calmly, despite my thrashing. But they brought forward another fragment of memory.

A book being torn in half.

Cradling Yared in my arms as his soul fragments away. He looks at me, his eyes full of pain.

“It’s not your faul-”

And then his soul shatters.

I went still, even as the shadow was nearly at us. Yared looked up into those piercing red eyes. Cold eyes. Hate-filled and pitiless.

Still cradling me, he extended his hand to her, the light around him expanding. He hissed in pain as a beam shot from his hand. The second it touched the shadow, she screamed that primordial roar once more. The eyes faded as she swept away, weaving back into the gloom again.

And then she was gone.

We both simply breathed for several moments, still holding one another. The whisper of the mist, and the distant screams returned, but somehow I felt safer. Small comforts.

“Are you alright?” Are you hurt?” Yared asked when we finally regained our feet.

“Oh! She is very much hurt! But she’s been that way for many years!”

We both stilled at the male voice, disconcerting and out of place. It was far too…happy. We looked around as I tried to ignore the cold still present on my back. But there was only the mist. Only the gloom.

“Come closer, Soulings! I promise not to bite…often. Believe me, I’m much better than that wraith.”

Glancing at one another we simply stood. The screams seemed to soften.

“Fine then! I’ll come to you!”

And just like that, a figure came toward us. It looked faintly humanoid, with no distinct features on the face and skin like shifting sand. It glimmered even in the lower light. It glanced at Yared, the head tilted to the side. It hummed thoughtfully.

And that's when it began to change. The sandy skin shifted. Molded. Gained color and texture. Hands. Feet. Hair. Finally, a woman began to walk toward us.

“Clara?!” Yared said, stepping toward her before rearing back.

The woman was olive-skinned, with dark curls and a light smile. But there was something off. It was in the way she tilted her head, her eyes unfocused.

“Oh yes! This is a nice one!” she said, head angling toward Yared, “You have good taste, sir!”

“You’re not Clara,” Yared said, his voice as close to a growl as I’ve heard it so far. He pushed me behind his back, hands clenched.

“My my, the noble soldier sees his wife again and he isn’t grateful!” said the woman, but still in that male voice. A shrug of the shoulders.

“I think I look pretty nice, but oh well.”

The head tilted the other way, a finger going to her lips.

“Well is look the correct word?”

The figure came fully into the light now, and Yared took in a sharp breath.

It wasn’t until she was fully in the light that I could see it. Her eyes were clouded over. Milky pupils stared sightlessly out of the face. She patted herself down before doing a twirl.

I could see Yared’s and my thoughts align as the strange being began to hum tunelessly, still patting its body. The aura coming off her was stronger. Just looking at her made a warmth bloom in my chest. There was power written in every breath it took.

A God. This was a God.

“You’re blind,” said Yared, maintaining his ground. The figure smiled before shifting. The sandy skin molded, twisting and turning into a man with white touseled hair and beard. He was beautiful, his features clean and almost too perfect. White teeth grinned as he swept into an over-low bow. A manic laugh bubbled out of him.

“Love always is!”