Soul Stealer: Legacy of the Blade Page 3

  I had managed to not kill anyone for almost two decades until last night.

  How hard could it be to avoid killing anyone or anything else?

  It was the ‘not dying’ part I was most concerned about.

  From Here to There

  My mind finally settling from a state of frenzied agitation to my normal background level of mere anxiety, I asked, “How exactly did you get here?”

  Getting used to talking to myself was a bit easier than I had anticipated.

  Maybe I had eaten too many mushrooms.

  “I was hunting an Al’zakara—”

  “An Al’zakara?” I interrupted.

  “A flesh dancer.”

  I nodded to myself, as if that had cleared up everything, when, in fact, it had not. Then I stopped myself on the off chance someone was watching and had noted my odd behavior.

  Visions began to dance in my mind, called forth as though they were my own, with Alric’s remembrance. Dark, rain-filled days spilled into sleepless nights following the bloody trajectory of an inhuman killer. Mangled bodies, sorcerous attacks, and wrecked homes at first provided a gruesome trail that grew ever fainter as the foul creature fled into the northern wilds.

  “The demon took over the body of a powerful wizard. The poor fool had probably invited the thing in, and it had been on a rampage northward ever since.

  “Weeks of tracking found me in the northern hinterlands, the demon’s trail grown cold until it sprung a trap on me just outside the walls of your little hamlet.

  “Luckily, I stopped it from entering your town’s gates…at least for the time being, but it will be back; of that I am certain. It has not fed to its satisfaction for too long.”

  How could he consider himself lucky when he had died?

  For that matter, was he really dead now that he lived on in me?

  Did his soul still live on elsewhere?

  Was that why the Djen’toth were so abhorrent and hated?

  Had I stolen his chance at an afterlife?

  If I died, could I give it back?

  I heard in Alric’s soft response to my unspoken questions a measure of kindness and respect I had not heard before. “I will try to respect the sanctity of your thoughts…but you should not pain yourself on my account. I am at peace. Whether now or later, my soul will be released.

  “My soul will not be burned up as it would be if it were subjugated by a demon.”

  That was at least one small burden lifted from my conscience.

  Now I just needed to try not to speak so loudly within the confines of my head.

  Swallowing bravely, far braver than I felt, anticipating his reasoning and motivations, I croaked weakly, “And we have to stop it?”

  His voice firm and strong, Alric replied with certainty, “We will stop it.”

  Suddenly a life spent harvesting mushrooms did not sound so bad.

  Eye-to-Eye with Justice

  “May I proclaim my innocence now?”

  I stood before the magistrate in the same mud-coated clothes that I had been wearing when I fell face first into the muck.

  Fortunately for me, the townsfolk of Balde were used to seeing me at my finest and expected nothing less from the community outcast. In fact, my mud-encrusted clothing mirrored the way my earthen hovel clung to the town’s exterior walls like some fell barnacle refusing to release its purchase.

  I loved symmetries.

  “You already have¸ Saedeus. Repeatedly.” The magistrate’s voice carried a certain gravitas and authority that mine lacked.

  Magistrate Goodkind was a very woman.

  Very fair.

  Very stern.

  Very smart.

  Very thorough.

  Very intimidating.

  I was very much unlike her.

  “We are, in point of fact, here to establish your guilt or innocence in the crime committed outside the city walls.

  “Considering you are the only citizen, and I use that term loosely in your case, of our fair town who resides outside the protections of our fortifications, you are in a unique position to relate the events that happened on the night in question.

  “Furthermore, as admitted by you and testified to by the noble village guard Jon Longshadow, you were found at the scene of this most inglorious crime with the very blood of the noble Empyrean Knight on your hands.

  “Before we get into the particulars of the night’s events, do you have any initial statements to offer in your defense?”

  “I do, Magistrate Goodkind.” I cleared my throat in an effort to let the resolute basso of my voice carry across the expectant crowd gathered in the center of the village commons.

  I ended up sounding like a loon honking through a beak full of water.

  Raising my fearsome thews skyward, I let my dirt-caked sleeves fall to my shoulders, revealing my pasty arms in their full glory.

  “Look upon these arms, I ask you.”

  Although I cut a rather impressive pose, there were some snickers and catcalls I would rather not repeat.

  “Do these arms look like they could cast down one of the realm’s guardians? A noble Knight of the Empyrean Guard? Much less one cloaked in a Sigil Shield, wielding an Angel Sword?”

  “You couldn’t cast down dice!”

  “Or coin!”

  “Or curses!”

  “Ya knave!”

  I basked proudly in the wisdom and benediction of the gathered populace.

  “Very funny,” I muttered.

  But they had good points.

  Ones I was not arguing with.

  Her face remarkably calm, Magistrate Goodkind intoned, “I think you have sufficiently cast reasonable doubt on Master Longshadow’s case against you.

  “Tell us then, Saedeus, what exactly happened?”

  This was the tricky part. I had to tell the truth…but just enough not to incriminate myself and incite the presently sarcastic mob into a bloodthirsty one.

  “Madame Magistrate…” I gave a brief, respectable bow. In so doing, I caused my loose, dirty clothing to conspire to fall over my face and muffle my response until I sorted out the ill-kempt tangle.

  I met the respectful chorus of snickers and snorts with a chest puffed full of dignity.

  Regathering myself, I continued, “I had just settled into my cot…”

  “Ya mean yer rat’s nest!”

  Magistrate Goodkind snapped her fingers. Lightning crackled threateningly between her digits. “I will have no more interruptions! Let Saedeus speak or he will not be the only one on the stand.”

  The threat of my inflated chest—and to a lesser extent Magistrate Goodkind’s lightning bolts—helped soothe the mob and allow me to continue.

  As though no one had interrupted, I said, “When I heard a commotion louder than the rain and thunder threatening to wash my home away.”

  Knowing the cleansing of my cottage from Balde’s walls would be about as welcome as my disappearance, I soldiered ahead before the expressions of loving compassion from Balde’s citizenry were no longer cowed by the magistrate’s threats.

  “Brave, civic-minded citizen that I am”—miraculously, no one even batted an eye at this remark; Magistrate Goodkind’s threats were apparently the stuff of legend—“I rushed out to investigate defying the storm and the threats of darkness.”

  Although they might mock me and belittle my eccentricities and lack of means, the fair citizens of Balde at least understood the risks that came with darkness, for none had ventured out to help or investigate, fearful of the demons that wandered in the night.

  Emphasizing this very point while locking Jon Longshadow’s gaze, I added, “When no guard responded to the horrific sounds and detonations of magical forces, I felt it was my duty to investigate.

  “Cautiously sneaking up the hill, I spied the noble knight fallen in a pool of his own blood.

  “When I sensed no danger, and will venture to attest that all here will testify to my ability to sense and avoid danger, I r
ushed to the knight’s side to offer what assistance I might.”

  Shaking my head sadly, I said, “Alas, I am no healer, and the Empyrean Guard’s wounds were far beyond my skills to treat, so I offered all I could: my hand as a gesture of support and reassurance in his time of need.”

  Clearing my throat and wiping my eyes, I pushed through the most difficult part of my tale, the one my narrative hinged on and the one the townsfolk would most likely believe. “As I knelt down and laid my hand on the knight’s shoulder, seeing the ghastly sight before me, I”—gathering myself, I paused for dramatic effect—“fainted and fell down into the mud.

  “The next thing I remember is the kind ministrations of our own noble Jon Longshadow as he hauled me off to jail for trial as a potential murderer.”

  Before I could add any more or lavish the populace with further embellishments, for they believed I was weak and spineless despite my living for years in conditions they would not brave, Magistrate Goodkind cut in, her voice firm and disapproving, “And what do you say to this sordid tale, Jon Longshadow?”

  Jon slowly cleared his throat, giving weighty consideration to the matter while his brain struggled to string together words in lieu of grunts and wheezes. All bravado from the night’s encounter left him as he mumbled decisively, “It was dark..?”

  Magistrate Goodkind patiently stared at Jon for several long seconds as she awaited further elucidation. When none was forthcoming, she prompted most generously, “And?”

  “He looked guilty?”

  The magistrate shook her head, her dark hair managing to look as dismissive as her gaze. “Is this incompetence what passes for justice in this town?

  “Bailiff Landsdown, would you please escort Jon out of my sight. He is suspended until further notice. When he begins to act with some level of competence, you may consider reinstating his position, but only after you have discussed the merits of his case with me personally.

  “In Longshadow’s absence, I suggest you organize the town guard and prepare yourselves for the creature that did this to the Empyrean Guard yet lurks beyond our walls.

  “It will be back and we must be ready.

  “Saedeus, my apologies for your ill treatment.

  “You may return home or remain within the confines of the town’s protective walls at the town’s expense until the demon has been dealt with if you so choose.”

  After imagining all the ways a noose could hang around my neck, I decided that her offer was most gracious and far better than any I had expected.

  “Thank you, Magistrate Goodkind, for your most gracious consideration, but I think I will go home. That will probably be best for everyone concerned.”

  The last thing I needed was trouble while confined within the town walls.

  And, given the outcome of the trial, I knew there would be trouble.

  Lots of trouble.

  “You are free to go, Saedeus.”

  I bowed, managing to avoid becoming tangled in my clothes once more, and took my leave.

  “That was very well done, Saedeus.

  “Very clever…

  “I think we will work well together.”

  Already accustomed to Alric’s voice, I muttered too softly for anyone to hear, “Great. More good news.”

  Sword in the Loam

  Alric’s Heaven-wrought blade lay untouched and unblemished in the dried mud outside the village walls.

  Only one of pure mind and heart chosen by the sword itself could wield or even lift an Angel Sword.

  When Angel Swords first fell from the heavens, whole battlefields were said to be covered in discarded angelic weapons. There were more than enough blades to outfit all the armies of men.

  Most of these swords lay unclaimed, for there were not enough men and women of honor to wield them.

  Surprisingly, none of the townsfolk of Balde who had tried had been able to pick up Alric’s sword.

  The mud was dry, at least for a time, my feet no longer squelching in the protesting soil. Birdsong trilled through the thick woods surrounding the village walls, the birds hidden in the interlinked shadows of the ancient, massed trees.

  To my right, the small, rutted path that passed for the main road into and out of the village snaked forward and disappeared into the trees.

  Overhead, to my eyes’ watery surprise, the sun peeked through the normally unbroken grey gauze of pregnant clouds.

  I crossed the clearing where Alric had fallen, and found that his death had been memorialized by a small cairn. Nearby, the Angel Sword shimmered on the ground beside the stacked stones, a band of sunlight unwavering and persistent beneath the broken sky.

  Reaching down, I casually took up Alric’s sword.

  “I knew you had it in you!”

  I snorted. “I just have you in me!”

  “That is not why Loer’allon chose you.”

  “She’s just desperate.”

  Alric laughed.

  If you’ve never had someone else laugh in your head, let me tell you, it is a rather odd sensation.

  The blade was surprisingly light in my hands. In fact, the sword was so light, I could not tell I was holding anything at all. But, despite the absence of weight, there was a solidity, a gravity, to the blade.

  I could feel its potency.

  The longer I held Loer’allon’s pommel in my hand, the more deeply I appreciated its capacity.

  Vitality—rightness—flowed forth from the sword, coruscating up my arm and through my body. I felt enveloped in an abiding peace, a deep calm, and filled with complete reassurance. I felt unshakable and untouchable but grounded and part of a totality beyond my ability to fully encompass but one I could sense and appreciate.

  Vibrancy, ineffable Light, and energy washed through me in a cleansing wave, reinforcing and reinvigorating me.

  The longer I held Loer’allon, the deeper and more comprehensive these impressions grew.

  How could Alric bear to hold such a thing of wonder?

  How did the Empyrean Knights not become enraptured in the glory of the blades they bore?

  I could lose myself in the world the sword was gradually opening before my unsuspecting mind’s eye.

  “Saedeus!”

  My eyes regained focus and I set the blade back on the ground lest holding it in hand draw unwanted questions and consideration.

  “Yes?”

  Bailiff Landsdown bustled out through the shadowy gate some distance behind me, waving his arms to get my attention.

  Maintaining my posture, one of respectful supplication, as he approached, I heard him say, “I wanted to offer you my sincerest apologies, Saedeus. You are not often afforded the respect you deserve. This unfortunate mistake is just one more example in a long line of similar affronts.

  “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  I stood to my full height.

  On my tiptoes, I probably came to the bailiff’s shoulders.

  “There is no need. If their opinions mattered to me, I would have left long ago.”

  “I respect that you tried to do right, son. You’re a good man. Much better than you’re given credit for.

  “I don’t think a one of those who mock you could survive without the protection of these walls, and you’ve done it for years.

  “How, exactly, I have no idea, but you’ve done it nonetheless.”

  I gave a small half-smile. “My mushrooms have kept me safe.”

  He crinkled his deeply inset eyes at me. “More than magic mushrooms have helped you get through these times, son. I only wish I had a bit of what you do.”

  I shook my head. “You want none of that, Master Landsdown, believe me.”

  “If more were like you, the world would be a better place. We might even have a chance to push the tide back rather than fight a losing battle to hold it in place.”

  “If more were like me, we’d run and hide under rocks and hope the demons set their sights on another realm entirely.”

  “You didn’t
run when the Empyrean Knight needed you.”

  “And a fine lot of good it did.”

  “You were there for him. And you showed this sorry lot that even the least of them can stand up to the terrors in the night.”

  Before I could deflect any further comment, Bailiff Landsdown reached beneath his woolen greatcloak and proffered a small bag.

  Without looking inside, I could tell the satchel was filled with Heaven’s Marks, coin of the realm, enchanted to prevent duplication or degradation.

  Before I could open my mouth in protest, he said softly, “You’ve led a hard life, Saedeus, one this town has not made any easier. Although these coins cannot make up for past or future affronts, they can at least make things a bit easier for you.”

  Holding back tears, for what wielder of an Angel Sword cried at generosity, I nodded my head in heartfelt gratitude. “Thanks.”

  There was so much more that could be said. I just did not trust myself to say it.

  The ground had soaked in enough tears of late.

  It did not need any more.

  And Now We Wait

  I held within my hands a piece of Heaven.

  Though the sunlight reflected off its polished surface, the blade glowed with an inner radiance, a window into the broad sweep of the firmament above.

  Whole universes lived within its aureate curves.

  The Angel Sword was Light and magic manifest.

  Diverting my attention from my reverie, resigned to my fate in the hours since Bailiff Landsdown’s departure, I asked, “How do we proceed from here?”

  “The demon will not suspect pursuit immediately after my fall. We should have the element of surprise.”

  I could think of many elements, but none of them were to our advantage.

  I also had a sneaking suspicion that whatever the outcome, I would be the only one surprised.