Chapter 14 - Devourer of Souls
“.. Must evacuate the area immediately. Operation Swift Retribution is a go. Repeat, Nuclear Strike codes are hot and operation Swift Retribution is green, all assets to clear the area imm..” the voice cut off in a shrill whine as my fist collided against the smooth holographic display glass, sending cracks spider-webbing in all directions and setting off tiny sparks fizzling all over its surface.
“Belay that order,” I grated out, shoving away the technical support staff member who had been unbuckling my armored exoskeleton. “Pull back all ground teams. I will need immediate air support for extraction in point Zeta-Nu-Alpha at preset coordinates.”
“Sir, we have strict orders to evacuate the area immed..” The young captain’s words died in his mouth as he shrunk back and wilted under the full weight of my gaze. “Ah.. I.. Yes, sir!”
I snatched a slim pen-sized device made of silvery metal with five dials running down its length from its delicate cradle. The numbers on the dials had lit up not 15 seconds ago.
“S.. Sir! That’s the detona..” gasped the same captain, goggling at me as I coldly flicked the instrument of mass death and destruction into my pocket.
“Stand down, Captain,” I ordered in a flat, crisp monotone, my eyes blazing with molten steel.
“B.. but..” the man stuttered, but couldn’t hold my gaze any longer. “Y.. yes Sir!” exhaled the man, collapsing in a defeated heap.
Without further ado, I turned on my heels and stalked down the aisle. Ignoring the sudden silence that filled the cabin as a dozen soldiers manning sleek holographic control consoles turned around to stare anywhere but directly at me, I made my way past the corridor and down the exit ramp of the vertical propulsion aircraft, also known as Ravens for their sleek, midnight black profile.
“.. got a deathwish..”
“.. rather risk a nuclear strike than defy a direct order..”
“.. not from Him..”
Without bothering to look down, I quickly dialed in a code in the holographic display running down my forearm. A series of warning bleeps and sirens echoed from my bioenhanced armored exoskeleton’s sensory feedback system, but that’s what the override codes were for.
*BLEEP*
WARNINGCentral Command has issued an immediate recall of all allied troops in your area of operation. Failure to comply immediately may result in prosecution via military tribunal and summary execution in accord to the Military Rule of Conduct Article VII Numerals 8, 10, 11, 12...
*BLEEP*
WARNING!:The power level in your energy bank is critically low. Routing algorithms have determined that you will be unable to complete the current mission without urgent...
*BLEEP*
WARNING!:Your exeskeleton’s ammunition levels are critically low. Please head to the nearest supply cache and resupply with..
Finally, the warning bells died down and a red window popped up in front of my eyes.
*BLEEP*
OVERRIDE MODEThis unit is currently operating under OVERRIDE mode, under direct authorization of commanding operational officer Major General Michael Lee, in accordance of..
He dismissed the window with a flick of his wrist and headed for his personal propulsion hovercycle. It would be a rough 1 hour ride through winding woods and heavy rain, but he would make it just in time. After powering the unit on and checking whether the stealth camouflage system on the vehicle was still operational, he issued a final order to his personal chief of staff before opening up the throttle to full.
The hovercycle roared like a hungry beast as it launched into the teeth of the storm ahead.
***
“Pasha, don’t make a sound,” I whispered, almost into the little girl’s ear. I was so close I could see the dimples in her cheeks as her face stretched in a delighted smile, even through the steady sheets of rain pouring down.
“Senor Miguel?” she mouthed, searching my expression through the gloom.
“Si, how are you? Did anything..” I had to leave off the rest as she rushed into my chest and hugged me with all the strength her tiny 11-year old’s arms could muster.
“I’m alright,” she whispered into my ear. “I was scared. I thought something had happened when you suddenly asked me to come here and you didn’t arrive!”
“I was.. detained. Look, we don’t have time Pasha. I have to get you out of here,” I told her, disengaging her embrace and taking hold of her hand. I pulled gently but she suddenly snatched her hand back.
“Is.. is something wrong?” she asked, not bothering to keep her voice down.
“The world is what is wrong,” I responded, swiftly scanning the area for movement. The rain made it difficult to see, but at least it would mask the sound of our conversation. “Pasha, we have to go. Now.”
I made to take hold of her hand once more, but she swiftly stepped back.
“Go where?”
“Somewhere safe. C’mon Pasha,” I urged.
“This is safe. My home, with my sisters Luna and Lila and Karina. They are planning a surprise party for my birthday. It’s tonight, and I know all about it but I’m going to act sur..”
“Pasha, not now. We have to move!” I cried out in frustration.
Pasha paused and looked into my eyes. Clear, grey eyes, just like Hers. That’s what had drawn me to Pasha when I first came to this rebel outpost for recognizance purposes. I’d been able to blend in with the locals and had been quietly working to root out the rebellion’s leaders. A cardinal rule is to never draw any ties between you and your mark. What started as mere curiosity, however, had become more of an obsession as I came to know the free-spirited orphan girl known as Pasha.
After that, I had engaged my mission with a vengeance. It was the only way I could save her. I had been so close. Just a few more days, and I would have had them all. String up all their leaders, take their heads back to Central Command. Then I could have prevented the mass slaughter of 9,000 civilians, children and women most of them. They were the final remnants of the few pockets of rebel resistance in the South American protectorates.
Damn bureaucratic pigs! Of course, they wanted to set an example, and they’d picked this small town in the heart of the Amazon jungle. It was as though they were saying, no matter how far you run, how deep you hide, we will find you.
We will destroy you.
Like stamping down on a bug.
I tried to hide it, the horror and disgust and despair in my eyes, but her eyes went through me like a bolt of lightning. They were the same clear, piercing grey eyes that I’d never been able to hide anything from.
Pasha, sweet, innocent Pasha, gasped in sudden realization and dawning horror. “I.. I must go warn them. I have to tell them..!”
She turned around to dash away but I took hold of her shoulder and pulled her back to me.
“Pasha, it is too late. Just too damn late. The lockout orders at the command bunker will only last until they override them from headquarters. We have an hour, maybe less..”
Pasha looked up at me in horror.
“Who.. who are you?” She tried to shove me away with her spindly arms, then started beating on my chest with her tiny hands as tears ran down her cheeks. “You are not Senor Miguel! You lied to me. You liar. Liar!”
I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep, shuddering breath. Her frantic hammering was tearing the bullet holes I’d received in my arm and shoulder open again. However, I didn’t even feel that. It was the accusation in her eyes that stabbed me in the heart far deeper than any of the wounds I’d received on my way in, as I neutralized several patrols and watch posts I didn’t have the luxury to circumvent after I’d abandoned my depleted exoskeleton.
“Pasha. I’m sorry,” I murmured, desperately trying to make it better. “I’m so sorry.”
I pulled her in closer and hugged her tightly to my chest. After a moment, she stopped struggling and we clung to one another as her cries echoed through the night.
Letting out one final, fitful sob, Pasha gently pushed me away and looked up at me with huge, reddened eyes that did not lose any of their focus for all of their grief. No 11 year old’s eyes should ever have to be so knowing.
“The town?”
I shook my head slowly.
“Then.. my sisters?”
I bowed my head down, unable to respond. I couldn’t even look into her eyes.
“Is there really no hope?” she asked me, her voice finally breaking on the last word.
I dug frantically through my brain for a different answer, but there was nothing. Hope had died the moment I had walked into her life.
“None.”
The single word hung in empty space between us, filling the silence that followed as the rain steadily fell around us.
Suddenly, I felt Pasha’s hands around my face as she drew me down to plant a kiss on my cheek. I looked up in surprise only to find her clear eyes turning to steel. Tears started to pool in them as her lips drew up in a shaky smile that reminded me of Her so vividly that my heart hammered into a dead stop and my chest couldn’t draw a single breath.
“Thank you, Senor Miguel,” Pasha nodded slowly in my direction, her eyes still holding my gaze. “I know you did everything you could to help us. I know you were trying to save us. For that, I thank you.”
Why did this feel like farewell?
“Pasha..”
“I can’t, Senor Miguel,” She shook her head slowly from side to side, then spread her arms wide as if to encompass the hills, the trees and the lights around us. “This is my whole life, and if I only had 5 more minutes, I would choose to spend them in the home I’ve come to love, with the people who have given me a room in their hearts. You understand, don’t you?”
I wanted to say no - so desperately that it felt like the word was frantically clawing at my insides to get out. However, I could only nod numbly.
I understood.
Pasha drew a slow, shuddering breath, then gave me one final, brave little smile that was so beautiful in all its tremulous fragility, it broke my heart.
Then she turned around and resolutely ran back into the darkness without so much as a look back over her shoulder, and I couldn’t gather the shattered pieces in time to stop her. Rather, it took all I had not to join her instead.
***
25 minutes later, as the Raven gained altitude rapidly, the glowing numerals in the slim cylindrical device I held in one hand went dead. At the same time, a thousand suns exploded in the far horizon, and though the light was blinding, I simply could not look away.
I ignored the frantic gestures of the support tech as he tried to pull me back from the edge of the open ramp, wind howling in my ears as the blast wave headed our way. In my other fist, I held a crumpled piece of paper I’d just now found stuffed in one of my pockets. The words, “Pasha’s Surprise Party Invitation for Dad Senor Miguel” had been scribbled on it with several different colors of crayon. At the very bottom, it read, “I made it myself, so sorry if its not very pretty. You have to come! Love, Pasha!”
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“Goodbye, Pasha,” I whispered, then opened my hand and let the breeze carry away the letter. It fluttered wildly in the engine’s wake before slowly spiraling downward.
I nodded once, then replaced the detonator into my pocket. We all made our own choices, and unfortunately, some of us had to live with them.
“Take us home, Captain,” I instructed, and a flurry of motion followed the barked orders from the officers on-board.
As the Raven’s rear ramp finally slid shut with a mechanical CLICK, I caught one final glimpse outside and I fancied that I could see Pasha’s brave, tremulous little smile - her last parting gift - stretched out over the endless blue sky.
***
“Lord Seth?” asked a voice right next to my head as I regained my senses.
“Wha..” When I opened my eyes, I saw four distinct faces outlined against the hazy sky above. “Zephyr? Sol? Reaver? Pash..”
My words came to a dead stop as I realized the name I’d been about to utter. I blinked and suddenly there were only three faces smiling down at me. Not four.
“Lord Seth, are you well? How do you feel?” asked a concerned Zephyr. “Please stay down for a moment longer while I inspect your wounds.”
“Is mister going to be alright?” asked Sol plaintively, and Reaver barked anxiously.
“Quiet, quiet all of you!” I shouted, and had to stop because the ringing in my ears gave me a blasting headache.
“.. still got a bad temper..” I heard Sol mumble.
“.. Owww..” I heard Reaver agree.
Damn kids. No matter. What had just happened here? I recalled - the book!
“Shia.. where is Shia?” I asked, sitting up in a rush.
Zephyr laid a restraining hand against my chest but gestured over his shoulder. The book lay there in the middle of a crater on the ground at least 3 feet deep, and at least thrice that in diameter. Scorch marks could be seen everywhere around it, but thankfully the book seemed to be in good condition.
“Shia?” I called out. There was no response. I flicked an accusing glance towards Zephyr, who promptly held up his hands in front of his chest.
“She has been silent and apparently inert for the whole time while we inspected your condition,” he explained. “Would you care to illuminate us as to what events came to pass here in our absence?”
“I was soulbound to some strange power,” I answered off-handedly, then winced as Zephyr’s hands tightened involuntarily on my wounded hand.
“Did you just mention the word soulbound? As in, the deepest binding of the soul and spirit reserved for the darkest rituals of forbidden magic?” Zephyr practically burst out in a rush. In truth, this reaction was so unlike the Zephyr I’d come to know that it was far more of a shock than the pain tingling from my abused hand.
Zephyr suddenly lifted my right hand to his eyes and both of us stared, stupefied by what we saw.
A complex series of lines and sigils had been tattooed into the back of my hand. The shapes were incredibly fine and complicated, and the closer I looked the more detail I found. On the other hand, the wound I’d inflicted on myself earlier was gone, and the pain I’d felt earlier had been from the branding.
“What is this?” I murmured, perplexed.
“I.. I believe it is a ritual of binding of the 9th circle,” Zephyr cried, disbelief in his voice. “I’ve never even seen a drawing of one such, not in all the time I spent studying in the Librarium Arcana. However, this is far too complex to belong to any of the lower circles.”
“The lines here and here,” Zephyr went on as he traced them without quite coming into contact. “I’ve never seen such mastery of the major sigils. Though I cannot know their purpose, surely they must be the legendary lost sigils of eternal binding. Why, I know many scholars who would gladly give up their entire fortunes for an opportunity to learn the secrets of the lost sigils.”
“Earth calling to Zephyr. Come in, Zephyr,” I muttered.
“Earth? Erm, no matter. I apologize, Lord Seth. It seems you have undergone a dark ritual of forbidden magic no one has seen for the past millennia,” Zephyr explained off-handedly, still caught up in the study of my new tattoo.
“Dark ritual? Forbidden magic? That’s rather vague,” I grumbled.
“Much has been obscured by the passing of the ages, Lord Seth,” Zephyr replied. “One thousand years is a very long time for your.. ah, for humanity in general.”
I caught his slight misstep but chose to ignore it for the time being. We would revisit that later.
“So, I’m assuming you can’t tell what it does?”
Zephyr shook his head in the negative.
“Well, you can start by telling me what a binding ritual is. Might as well tell me everything you know about soul binding, while you’re at it,” I called over my shoulder as I stepped past him to examine the apparently inert Shia. “But first lets see what’s wrong with her.”
After gingerly lifting it off the ground, I could see it was still in perfect shape. However, the gold letters on the cover had turned a startling shade of silver now. If one looked closely enough, a slight swirling effect could be found within each character.
“Shia?” I called out. “Are you there?”
The book did not answer. Zephyr looked on impassively, but he started to fiddle with the hem of his robe as he usually did when he became nervous. Sol and Reaver say huddled to one side, barely daring to breathe.
Had whatever magic event had taken place burned Shia out? Was it too much energy for the young artifact to handle? Or had the ritual been carried out in a catastrophically wrong way?
“.. ry..” came the whisper, barely audible, from the book.
“Shia?” I quickly called out.
“.. gry..” came the voice again.
I leaned my head in closer, practically laying the book along my ear. Then a moment later I had to struggle mightily in order not to throw the damn book down and start stamping on it like a madman. It must have shown in my face, for Zephyr visibly flinched when I turned my scowling gaze on him.
“Ah, Lord Seth? Is something..”
“Zephyr, go to the bazaar and buy me the cheapest books you can find,” I muttered testily.
“.. no.. moldy.. books.. yummy.. pretty.. please..” came Shia’s voice, much more emphatic now.
“Cheapest pile of rags you can buy,” I reiterated, then held out a hand to stop Zephyr. What had I been thinking? Sending Zephyr to buy something cheaply? I motioned Zephyr to stay, then turned to Sol and Reaver instead. “You two, I have a special mission for you.”
Their faces lit up. “Sure, we’ll buy it and be back before you..”
I shook my head firmly, “You will do no such thing.” Their heads hung limply in disappointment, “Instead, you will look in the marketplace for a kid named Kyren.”
Sol’s head came up and scowled furiously at me. Reaver’s expression, however, did a complete 360 and he started to wag his tail frantically to and fro. “I see you know him. No, not one word out of you. I don’t care what you have against him. He works for me now, and so do you. Go find him and tell him to buy me a handful of the cheapest books he can find.”
Another low moan came from the book I held in my hands, but I pointedly chose to ignore it.
After Sol dragged his feet out with a much more cheery looking Reaver practically bouncing behind him, I looked down with as fierce a scowl as I could manage at the book. “Shia, we were worried about you.”
“Shia.. so hungry.. mommy’s fault..” came the accusing voice.
“Do you know what happened?” I asked.
“Nope, but it hurt.. then Shia felt so tired and hungry,” whined Shia.
“The soulbinding. Shia must have been the focus,” murmured Zephyr. “But if that is so.. then who is the contractor?”
“Wait, soulbinding? Contractor?” I asked in a flat tone.
“Allow me to enlighten you, Lord Seth. We are currently dwelling on the physical realm, the land you know as Aeterna. However, there is a spiritual realm that is closely connected to us by ancient and potent magic. Known as Valora, this is the dwelling place of the beings we worship as Gods. In that realm, instead of a physical body like ours, individuals harness the essence of their beings in vessels known as souls. The evidence of the existence of souls has been object of much debate, but allow me to reassure..”
I waved off Zephyr’s “reassurances”. I knew damn well what having a soul was like. Hell, I’d reforged mine in order to come to Aeterna, though the result of my willful disobedience of the rules had resulted in a “flawed soul.”
Zephyr looked surprised, but quickly composed himself and continued, “Of course, just as passage into Valora is all but impossible for beings of flesh and blood, entrance from the other side into Aeterna is a rather formidable challenge. Thus, the beings of various strati of power in the Spirit Realm will establish contracts with individuals in our realm. This forms a magical binding which binds the soul of the contractee - the individual whose soul is offered - to that of the contractor, the being who wields it.”
“So, what does it do?”
“Besides entrance from one world to the next? Why, whatsoever they please, of course,” answered Zephyr matter-of-factly.
I tried hard not to gape. Hadn’t he called the other side of my soulbinding the contractor? That meant I was the contractee..
“Wait, what do you mean? Be very specific,” I ordered.
Zephyr spread his hands as though to say, not my fault. “Lord Seth, any further explanations would be more conjecture and rumour than truth. After all, the last recorded instance of a successful soulbinding took place more than a thousand years ago. Why, we stand at the very place where it took place.”
I looked up sharply at that. “Don’t tell me the contractor was..”
“Indeed. The only man to have united all the Ae’Sur clans under one ruthless fist, the conqueror of the largest landmass empire ever known to the world - the Great Khan himself, Jar’we the Deathwalker. There is some symmetry to this, as his title is generally rendered as the Deathwalker, but in the more ancient languages, its roots can be traced to a title meaning, ‘Devourer of Souls.’”
That did not have a nice ring to it at all. Devourer of Souls? Hell if I let some damn stuck-up god slurp up my soul as a one-way ticket to Aeterna, the funnest amusement park for bored, egomaniacal deities.
“Shia won’t.. let mommy.. be food..” came the fervent voice.
“Thanks, but I’m not becoming soul food for anyone, deities or not.”
Zephyr nodded his agreement. “It would appear we need to find more information.”
“Right. That means digging up the..”
We finished at the same time:
“Imperial Library of Korendur.”
Zephyr looked startled, but subsided after I shrugged carelessly at him. Hey, we all have our little secrets, don’t we.. not quite human priest-turned-merchant?
Zephyr looked uncomfortable under my scrutiny, and shuffled his feet while clutching both arms to his chest.
“Something tells me you didn’t come all the way to the Arioch Wastelands simply to sell ruined cloth turned into bandages,” I ventured off-handedly.
Zephyr flinched and started to speak, but I held up a hand. “No matter. Perhaps the time will come when we will share our secrets. Until then, I will respect your privacy.”
Zephyr nodded gratefully.
Just then, a groaning sound came from the book.
“Shia.. hungry..”
It had just eaten my soul, apparently, and yet it still wanted more.
“Wait a while longer, you little glutton,” I murmured. It came out a lot lighter than I’d expected. Indeed, far from feeling pessimistic and weighed down, I was rather satisfied with this turn of events. I’d started to worry I’d be stuck babysitting a pair of kids and a clueless merchant for the rest of my natural life.
This had just kicked a whole lot of fuel into the fire.
If I was going to get burned, I’d take the whole world with me. In fact, that’s what I’d prefer.
Burn baby, burn.