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Seven Realms Saga Book 1 - Last Passage
Ch. 12 - A Sense of Gratitude

Ch. 12 - A Sense of Gratitude

Find this realm when soul leaves shell

No sooner or risk to dwell

These endless grounds bid farewell

To sanity, welcome hell

Translation from Effylscript found on the Iodigar Portal in Hyrfvar.

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The first Vren exploded in a cloud of red mist as a bolt of lightning crashed into it. A second followed the same fate only moments later, its head pierced by an offshoot of the strike.

Both times, Kollyn felt a connection with the Vren as they vanished, that same sense of gratitude filling him. He understood now that the creatures were victims themselves, the wicked result of a confused goddess unwilling to die.

He would free them all.

As if drawn by the first two deaths, the other Vren screamed and snarled more violently. Their pace quickened, their movements growing more frantic.

For a moment, Kollyn considered descending lightning on all of them. The idea however was quickly dismissed. He already felt some fatigue from the first strike alone. Instead, he quickened his pace and readied his sword. This was something he knew how to do. Close in the distance, evade the Vrens’ blows and strike them down. Now however, all he had to do was touch them instead of going in for the kill.

One of the creatures reached him and lashed out. Kollyn didn’t stop. Instead he simply adjusted his direction and ran past his opponent. In passing, he grazed the Vren’s leg with his blade and with a single short scream and a puff of red mist, the tortured soul disappeared.

With each strike and kill that followed, he felt the energy of Tharn-Dar-Solst, the Father of Souls, flow through him appreciatively. It spurred him on, gave haste to his step without growing tired from the physical effort. Once or twice, a streak of lightning struck down behind him where a Vren had managed to approach unseen. Only the presence of the god inside him allowed Kollyn to react in time.

Nearing the centre of the valley and the soul of the dead goddess, Kollyn found himself almost completely surrounded by Vren. Still unharmed, he was able to slowly weave and dodge his way forward but knew that any moment now he would be overwhelmed. Could his mind take a large amount of lightning at once?

His instincts told him no.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

And then, unexpectedly, the black obelisk towered above him and he stepped into the essence that made up Feill-Dar-Lhef.

From one step into the other, he suddenly found himself surrounded by a greyish mist. The sound of the snarling Vren cut off. As did all other sounds for that matter. Tendrils of mist danced around him, prodding his arms, legs and torso.

“I am no soul,” Kollyn whispered, unsure if it were his words. “I am here to help you, sister.”

The mist began to pulse back and forth violently, a silent scream reaching out to him. Then, two tendrils rose like snakes ready to strike and launched forward. They pierced his skull and Kollyn’s mind exploded.

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Tirril watched Kollyn rush onwards with mixed feelings. She had faith the man was himself, but something had changed in his tone and expression. What had happened in that dream state of his?

Lightning strikes brightened the valley in short bursts, the sound of thunder almost rendering her deaf. The Vren were dying by the dozens. Was this the power of a god?

“Impressed?” the voice of Hrotvir spoke and she turned back towards him. Kollyn’s spectacle had almost made her forget her own task.

She put her sword back at his throat. “Should I not be?”

Hrotvir smiled like a parent would to an ignorant child, with pity almost. “That boy carries the power of a God of Creation and you think a few lightning strikes is all it can do?” He scoffed.

“I’m growing tired of your deceptions, Hrotvir,” Tirril answered. “Who are you really? What are you doing in Iodigar?”

“I told you already.” Hrotvir sighed. “I’m a scholar and that’s the truth of it.”

“And that name Kollyn gave you. The Escaped One? What’s that all about? There was a shift in your eyes when he spoke it.”

Hrotvir held his hands up apologetically. “I honestly have no idea.”

Tirril knew the man was lying, but unless she started torturing him, she doubted she’d get any true answers. Not that I have time for that now, she thought and looked back towards the centre of the valley. Kollyn had disappeared from view, yet the lightning strikes and the convergence of Vren clearly showed where he was. There was a faint red mist amidst the chaos. The Vren dying, she assumed.

She looked back at Hrotvir; whose eyes were fixed intently on something behind her. The sudden sound of a Vren’s snarl was all the indication she needed. In a fury of motions, she spun on her heels and swung the Effylscript engraved blade in front of her. The tip of the weapon sliced straight through the Vren’s eyes and it vanished immediately, leaving behind a puff of red smoke.

“A warning would have been appreciated,” she hissed at Hrotvir, who was now intently watching the weapon.

The man ignored the remark. “He truly carries the knowledge of the Father of Souls,” he muttered instead. “Your sword and his are probably the most powerful manmade weapons in existence now.”

Tirril took a moment to glance at the blade. Her knowledge of Effylscript was more advanced than most, but the markings on the metal were incoherent to her. Whatever Kollyn had engraved, it now had the ability to cut souls directly and sent them into the afterlife. Absently, she wondered what would happen if she used it on a living human.

The valley fell silent.

Both Tirril and Hrotvir turned towards the centre and the soul of the dead goddess. The lightning had seized and the Vren stood motionless. Where’s Kollyn?

Then, as one, the distorted souls turned towards where they were hiding.

“Judge me however you want.” Hrotvir began. “But trust me when I say you better prepare to defend yourself.”

The Vren charged.

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