The Soul Forge Page 6
He climbed the scarlet staircase two steps at a time, torn between putting distance between the creatures and prolonging the distraction.
His decision was made for him as he reached the top of the stairs and was swiftly punched in the face for his trouble. His face exploded in barbs of pain and he slipped back down the stairs he had just climbed. His momentum was stopped by the creatures, and they seized him with a solid oak grip.
“Well well. Isn’t this a surprise?” a voice Thomas had never heard before said. It was deep yet somehow corroded, like the body that housed the voice was falling apart.
Thomas shook the cobwebs loose and looked up, staring into the face of his attacker. As hazel eyes stared into red, Thomas’ jaw dropped.
The man was at least a head taller than him, with a ceremonial black robe that was tightly wrapped around a thin, almost frail, body. The man’s hair was black and stuck up all over, and he had a black beard that covered most of his face.
“I may be mistaken,” Thomas said as he was forced to his feet, “but I don’t think you’re the King.”
The response he got was a laugh that chilled his very bones.
“No,” the man replied, “not exactly.” Then he raised his hand, and the hissing creatures increased pressure on Thomas. He felt his arms start to ache in protest from the pressure, and his legs caved. Before he knew it, he was on his knees.
“I, my boy, am the Dark Priest.”
Thomas’ head shot up even as his jaw dropped. His eyes saucers in his head, Thomas could only reply, “no way.”
“I know, I’m not nearly as imposing as the legends state,” the shadow replied, “but I am who I claim. Meaning the prize you seek tonight is mine by right.”
“We…” Thomas’ brain stalled. He urged himself to think, but nothing was coming to mind. This couldn’t be the Dark Priest. He refused to accept it. His skin wasn’t crawling with fear nearly enough for it to be. But the pretender still had Thomas captured, and he had to stall for time. He couldn’t just stay quiet, he had to think of something…
“We aren’t seeking anythin’,” was his half-witted reply. As soon as the words left his mouth he wished he had them back.
As life often dictates, this was not to be.
“No? Then tell me, why are you in the castle? Why are you pushing aside the General’s weapons to get what’s behind? If you aren’t seeking, you most certainly know where to look.”
A twinge of pain rifled through Thomas’ arm, and in anger he spat, “what are these Gods-forsaken things?”
The robed figure laughed. “Those? They’re my latest pets. I tried using the undead, but those are far too messy and unreliable. Anything with a brain is untrustworthy, really. So these I call my… Others.”
“Others?” Thomas repeated, a little let down. “That’s the best you can come up with?”
“I know, it’s not much of a name,” the pretend Priest replied, “but it’s all I could come up with under such short notice.”
“Short… you’re just now using these… things?”
“Oh yes. Ever since my defeat five years ago, I’ve had to start all over. Oh, the shame of it all. But I think I’ve started out well. I have new soldiers, and all I need is my staff to consolidate my power.” He lifted his head and raised his voice before finishing. “Now, dear girl, hand it here.”
Thomas turned to face Miranda, who was standing by the throne holding what looked to Thomas like a branch glowing with purple fire. It was subdued, as if it burned with dark power simply because it knew no other way, but when the pretend Priest spoke the purple grew deeper. It didn’t get brighter or visibly throw off flames, but the purple just got more intense, more powerful.
More inviting.
Thomas found that he couldn’t look away from the staff, and the staff wouldn’t look away from him. Even the Others holding him seemed to loosen their grip as the staff called out. He could hear it speaking. There was a whisper that moved like an insect on Thomas’ skin.
It scared him.
“Come then, bring it to me.”
Miranda stared down at the staff, her whole body shaking. That staff… it had power all its own. Thomas could see Miranda debate it in her head, trying to resist but unable to fight off the temptation of the staff. Slowly, she started moving forward.
“No!”
The shout came in unison from the Trask twins, but they were held down by four Others, and there was nothing they could do. Only Thomas stood between Miranda and the pretend Priest, and Thomas couldn’t find it within him to move.
Then he felt the ghost pain of a nine year old kicking him in the shin, and he smiled. All of the lectures he gave her about being a good girl and behaving, and he was going to just stand there and let their adventure end before it had even begun.
He’d never hear the end of it.
Miranda started climbing the stairs, and for one moment she was even with Thomas. And in that moment, Thomas moved.
He broke free of the slackened grip of the Others and tackled Miranda to the ground. She wrestled with him, but he was bigger and simply used that advantage to ward her off for a few moments. True, she could probably punch his skull in, but that was a problem for later.
The problem for now was wrenching the staff loose from her grip and standing to his full height, feeling the dark object pulsate between his fingers. He didn’t look at it, afraid that to do so would forever doom him to keep looking.
“Now, now,” the pretend Priest chuckled, “let’s be reasonable. I’ll make you a deal.”
“I’m afraid it doesn’t matter what you offer,” Thomas replied, “you don’t get this.”
“But what I have to offer is so very tempting. Are you sure you don’t at least want to hear the offer?”
Thomas didn’t even think about. “Sorry. Not interested.”
Before the other could speak or the Others could move, Thomas swung the staff in a high arc and brought it crashing down to the stone floor. With the sound of glass shattering and wood splintering, the staff smashed apart on the ground.
What erupted from the spot was something no one was ready for.
It was the closest thing to nothing Thomas could have imagined. It wasn’t a lack of space, but what was filling the air between Thomas and the door was a cloud of darkness so complete it looked like a gateway to absolutely nothing. But it was something, it was definitely something. Thomas just didn’t have the first clue what it could possibly be. It had shape, but it was formless. It had depth, but it had no size.
What was this thing?
“That wasn’t your most clever move,” the pretend Priest said. “Noble, but unwise. You see, the staff wasn’t containing the dark power of the Priest. It wasn’t containing me evil or my magic.”
“Then…” Thomas didn’t want to ask, but he couldn’t resist, “what was it containing?”
The only response he received was a laugh that froze the veins still valiantly trying to live.
Then a claw made of pure night reached out from the billowing horror and slammed into Thomas so hard he flew all the way back to the throne, crashing into it and toppling the chair. He stayed conscious, but only just. The Others backed away from him, releasing the twins. Miranda, once again in control of herself, sprinted the length of the court and crouched beside him.
The four of them, together, felt the wrath of the incarnate darkness as it descended on them.
Thomas awoke to the smell of fire. It was everywhere, in his clothes, in his hair. It was like he had slept in the fireplace. He tried to move away from the smell, but he realized he couldn’t move. He also couldn’t see, which was rather odd. It wasn’t until he opened them that he realized why his eyes had been shut.
Everything was burning.
The forest was nothing but torched twigs, and the villages were reduced to smoldering ash. Rotting corpses burned to nothing before his eyes, and everywhere he looked there was nothing but black skies and scorched earth.
He stood as fast as he was able, hunting for the source. She couldn’t still be here, she was supposed to be safe, they were all supposed to be safe…
But Ms. Anna was standing in a field, surrounded by descending Others.
Thomas didn’t waste time thinking, he just ran. He would set them on fire, cut them up, beat them with his bare hands… he didn’t know. But there was no way they were going to hurt that little girl.
He reached the top of the hill and lunged, his lips drawn back and spit flying from his mouth. His hands were wide open, ready to tear at them.
The nearest Other simply turned around and smacked him in the face with enough force to loosen two teeth and send him spinning to the ground. He smashed into the soot face first, choking on the rancid ash that used to be grass.
The other put one foot on his chest, pinning him to the ground with unspeakable strength. Thomas couldn’t draw breath, he couldn’t hope to move.
All he could do was watch as the Others leaned down and lifted Ms. Anna by her neck. Thomas tried to scream, to shout, to make some kind of noise, but he was denied any verbal release.
So Thomas was completely silent when the Other holding Ms. Anna squeezed his hand shut like he was squeezing a dish cloth.
The crack that resounded tore through Thomas like the worst physical wound he could ever have endured. It was the splintering of a tree trunk, and the tree that fell to earth was Thomas. He felt the world fade from him as he stared at the now lifeless body as it fell. Her eyes were still open, vacant and staring and unknowing. Thomas stared into them, a slow numbness overtaking his mind, his soul.
It was taking over everything.
Thomas tore his gaze away from Ms. Anna and stared up at the sky, cursing the black smoke that was descending on him. This couldn’t be happening, it couldn’t. This couldn’t be real. He begged the sky and the ground, the wind and the flame that what he was feeling just wasn’t real.
He would have begged the Dark Priest himself if he thought it would have gotten him anywhere.
“You seem… upset.”
Thomas had never heard this voice before, but it was almost like a roar. Deep and echoing, it resounded off of the walls of Thomas’ mind and back again, making a barrage of noise in his head.
“Who… what are you?” Thomas asked, though he honestly didn’t care for the answer.
“I am you.”
“Begging your pardon,” Thomas replied without emotion, “but I do believe that I’m me.”
“In a sense. But in a different sense, I am you. And you are me. Little Ms. Anna is me, same as little Ms. Anna was in you.”
“I don’t understand,” Thomas said, closing his eyes, “and I don’t care.”
“Oh, don’t be like that,” the voice replied, and Thomas felt his eyes open without his volition. The Others were gone, as was the black sky and the destruction from the flames. All that was left was a brilliant blue sky and grass as far as Thomas could see. Ms. Anna was gone, or maybe he was gone from her. Thomas didn’t know.
“Where am I?”
“You’re nowhere,” the voice replied, “or, more specifically, everywhere.”
“Everywhere ain’t very specific.”
“No, I guess not. But you are.”
Thomas rubbed his temples, feeling and repelling the tears threatening to build there. “Please, just… explain. Properly.”
“Fine,” the voice said, sounding almost giddy, “but you’re going to owe me one.”
Considering Thomas was almost positive he had lost his mind, it wasn’t a hard deal to make. “Sure. Now what’s goin’ on here?”
“You aren’t dead. But you aren’t alive, either.”
“That ain’t very proper.”
“I’m afraid that’s as proper as it’s going to get. Right now, you stand at the brink of death, ready to take the leap… or get back into the fight. That choice is up to you.”
“So…” Thomas said, trying to understand, “so none of this is real?”
“No. What you just saw was a possibility of what is to come. Where you stand now is another possibility. There are many, many possibilities. But only you can decide which path will lead to which… destiny.”
“Destiny?” Thomas repeated. It wasn’t a word he was wholly familiar with. “I thought destiny was fixed or somethin’. That nothing could be done to change it.”
“Yes, I’ve heard something like that too. Care to test out if it’s true?”
Thomas knew he couldn’t trust the random voice in his head. He knew that there was no telling what he was going to experience.
But he would do anything not to suffer seeing that ‘possibility’ again, even if he had to walk through Hell itself.
“Well then, let’s get moving. I haven’t got all day.”
The voice chuckled, and it was neither pleasant nor unpleasant. It was just there; a sound that filled the silence.
“Well what are you waiting for? Open your eyes.”
It was with great shock that Thomas did just that, waking up the real world again. He was still in the throne room, and the Others were again closing in on them.
The only thing that made it worse was the darkness bearing down on him.
Chapter 7: Escape
He didn’t think. He didn’t have time. All he could do was stand up, holding his hands out as if to ward away the monsters from his acquaintances. They didn’t even so much as slow down.
So Thomas did the only thing that he could think of, even though it was possibly his stupidest idea yet.
He threw off the glass covering the weapons case, and he lifted the sword and shield from it. He marveled for only a moment, taking in the blue-hued blade with the solid steel hilt and the sturdy steel shield with a forgotten crest emblazoned on the front, like a sun with six prongs breaking through the clouds. It took him a moment more than it should have to figure out to slip his arm through the straps on the shield, and by that time the first Other was upon him.
Thomas drew the sword with shaking fingers, and without thought he jutted the blade forward and into the Other’s chest. To his very great surprise, the blade actually tore through the wooden body and punched through the other side, and a shining light erupted from the wound. The creature wretched away, and Thomas used the opportunity to cut a hole in its face.
The creature sank to one knee as if winded.
Thomas’ jaw set, determined not to let his dismay show. Sure enough, the Other shook off the blow and stood up, now with two deep gouges in its hide but nothing more.
So he could briefly injure them, but he couldn’t kill them. It figured.
Thomas lifted the shield, blocking the blow from another and responding with a slash that chipped wood off of its chest. As before, the Other sank to one knee, but Thomas knew it wouldn’t stay down long.
That was okay, he didn’t need very long.
He crossed the floor to where Miranda and the Trask Twins still lay, and he none too gently kicked them all, one at a time. He had to kick the taller twin twice, but eventually all three woke up and became well aware of their situation. Thomas chopped down another Other, but there would soon be too many of them for him to fight. His companions’ weapons were useless, bouncing off of wooden hides and inflicting no damage.
“Run?” Miranda suggested.
“Run!” Thomas agreed. As one they broke free and made for the door, the slower Others moving to catch up but being unable. The only unusual thing about the whole ordeal – other than everything – was that the shade (whatever it was) hadn’t moved after its initial attack.
They ran through the castle, making a beeline for the front door and freedom. To his very great surprise, guards rushed forward from different rooms, but they neither helped nor hindered the escaping party.
One of them stepped into the path and was promptly run over by the taller twin. The guard’s helmet went flying, and under the helme
t there was no face.
Just a wooden mask and a distinct lack of eyeballs.
Thomas had no words, and so they just kept running. No wonder the guards hadn’t noticed them in the barracks. They weren’t guards at all. They were Others.
“All of the guards are those… things?!” Miranda shouted as they made a left and saw that their destination was in sight.
“Looks like it,” Thomas replied, speeding up. The guards that had helped Thomas earlier, they must have been the last to go. Or die. Or be transformed.
Thomas felt the world spinning around him, and it wasn’t just due to lack of air or water. This was all too much, too fast. He couldn’t handle this. He was just a farm boy! A helping hand, there to work and get paid with food and kindness! He didn’t want this, he didn’t want to deal with this insanity…
It wasn’t until Miranda grabbed him by his belt and pulled him through the doors that Thomas snapped out of it. They all hit the cobblestone and just kept running, determined to put as much distance between themselves and any other living – or otherwise – thing.
They reached the relative safety of the safe house when they stopped for good. As soon as they entered, the Trask twins started packing everything they owned. The small boy Thomas hadn’t properly met asked what had gone wrong, but Miranda shushed him, promising to fill him in later.
“What’s going on?” Thomas asked when he could breathe again.
“We’re getting out of here,” Miranda answered. “I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t want to be here to find out. Here’s your pay,” she finished, tossing a small pouch to Thomas. He could feel the jingle of coins inside it. It was a strange sound.
“I didn’t complete the job,” Thomas replied, offering it back.
“You made sure the bad guys didn’t get the staff. That was the job. I’m not sure the way you did it was ideal, but hey. Job well done nonetheless. Not your fault the Dark Priest is back and the King is probably dead…”
She trailed off, the ramifications hitting everyone in the room.
“What?” the little one said, his young voice sounding even more timid. Thomas could see a tear sparking in his young face. What was a child doing in this environment? And who was this child?