The Soul Forge (7 page)

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.

Then, Gods help him, he heard that familiar scream.

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.

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 helmet 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?

“Who are you?” Thomas asked in what he hoped was a pleasant voice.

“Ben,” the boy replied, taking a deep sniff and standing as straight as he could. Thomas felt a swelling of pride at the strength the boy was trying to display, though he had no reason to be feeling it.

“He’s the information gatherer for our little gang,” Miranda said with a smile, though she didn’t pause while making preparations. “Everyone tells little kids stuff when they ask. It’s great.”

Thomas opened his mouth to reply, but couldn’t think of anything.

“Your horse is right back there,” the taller twin said, pushing Thomas out of the way of a barrel. “She’s got a saddle. I suggest you get to riding.”

“Where do I go?” Thomas asked without thinking. This was spinning out of control, and he had had very little control to begin with.

“Away from here,”
Miranda said, “go somewhere. Anywhere. Just run.”

“We can’t just run away,” Thomas argued, “no one knows what’s happened! If we run, Ludicra is done for sure!”

“The King is gone and the Dark Priest is in control of the castle,” the shorter twin said as he hefted a bag of grain. “Ludicra is already done.”

“Not yet,” Thomas said, drawing the General’s sword. “I could hurt those things with this. I couldn’t kill them, but I could hurt ‘em. No one else’s weapon could do that. Why do you think that is?”

“Ask the elves,” Miranda said, lifting Ben onto her back. “Story has it the elves designed it and dwarves crafted it. If you want answers, the elves are your best bet.”

Thomas said nothing else, choosing instead to nod. He had to check up on
Cynthia anyway, and she was supposed to be in Verdonti.

“Anyone happen to have a map?” Thomas asked as he made his way to the back room.

“Sorry, fresh out,” Miranda said, following him.

There were four horses and a carriage in the back room. Lucille pawed the ground at the sight of Thomas, and he crossed to her with more energy than he really had at the moment.
The twins loaded up the carriage with the supplies, and Miranda settles into her horse’s saddle. The gray and white animal didn’t look the least bit perturbed by the proceedings.

Thomas mounted Lucille, letting out a small sigh of relief to be sitting in an actual saddle. His feet found the stirrups, and they all gave each other a single look.
Thomas made sure the General’s sword and shield and his gold pouch were all intact, then he clicked his tongue. Immediately, Lucille took off through the stable into the streets.

They ran into an army of Others.

Thomas pulled the reins, directing Lucille into any other direction. Miranda followed him out, followed by the taller twin and then the shorter twin with the carriage attached. The shorter twin was by far the least fleet, and the within moments he would be overrun.

Unless Thomas got there first.

He drew the General’s sword and charged, holding on tightly to Lucille’s reins as the horse ran full speed towards the horde.

His first swing sent a painful shock through his arm, and he almost fell out of the saddle.
The Other he had struck went down, a glowing white line remaining in its chest. The smaller twin took the opportunity and took off, taking a few Others with him.

Thomas shouted, “I’ll distract them!” Miranda turned to stare at him as if he was insane, but Thomas didn’t stick around to find out. He couldn’t fight the monsters, not on horseback. And he couldn’t fight them not on horseback. Either way, the only choice he had was to run.

At least this time he didn’t have to use his own legs.

Lucille took off, the wind whistling through her mane. The Others tried to follow, but they were far too slow and fell behind. Thomas pulled at the reins, making sure Lucille kept them close enough to worry about them but not so close they would be caught.

There were screams now, screams that were filled with terror and grief. Thomas turned to face the town, cursing his own stupidity. He had completely forgotten to warn them of the coming darkness, and now… Now….

Now they were paying the price.

The Others attacked, and Thomas watched helplessly as the citizens fell. At first, Thomas thought they were killed, but no, it was much worse. They’d fall, and a few moments later they would stand again, bereft of their humanity.

The Others were going to turn the whole of the Capital. They already had the guards, and Thomas held the only weapon that could slow them down. He didn’t know which was more useless, him or the blade.

Then from the chaos came Chancellor Valerium.

He could see her, even separated as they were by the Others. She stared out at her people and raised her hands, her mouth moving so fast Thomas couldn’t hope to know what she was saying. Soon, she would be overcome by the Others.

Thomas was about to spur Lucille into moving, so that maybe he could at least save one life. But the moment he did, Valerium’s eyes darted over to his, and she waved her hand in a clear message.

“Run.”

Cursing himself and his cowardice, he pulled the reins and
lightly spurred Lucille’s side with his heel. The horse immediately started running, though Thomas still didn’t know what direction Verondi was.

It, however, wasn’t his biggest problem.

He heard more whinnies, and he turned back to see who was behind him. To his very great surprise, guards on horses were riding towards him. Thomas’ eyes narrowed as he tried to see under their helmets and hopefully glimpse faces underneath.

But when a tree branch whipped off one of their helmets and the rider didn’t even flinch, Thomas knew h
is luck was pretty much staying constant.

“Damn,” was all he said before urging Lucille to run
faster. They had to lose them.

That didn’t happen.

Lucille was fast, but her rider was inexperienced and didn’t know where he was going. The other horsemen caught up with them, and the Others reached out for Thomas. He didn’t know what they did to turn people, nor did he wish to find out. He drew the General’s sword, and slashed at the nearest Other. The blade connected, sending another sharp stab of pain burning through his arm, but the Other toppled from the horse.

One down, only three or so more to go.

That thought was blown away as he realized
Lucille was running straight for a low hanging trunk that formed a bridge between two hills. Lucille was going to fit, but Thomas was not.

The options ran through his hand in a second. He could try and jump the bridge, but that involved standing on the saddle and balancing and jumping properly. It also involved Lucille to keep running without a rider, not something the animal was accustomed to. Or he could
slide down the side of the saddle, holding on for dear life.

Or he could simply pull up on the reins, stopping the charging animal short.

The last one was the option he took, and Lucille came to a dead stop. The other horsemen were not so lucky, and they barreled into the bridge without preamble. Three sickening thuds later, and Thomas was alone in the road.

He was just catching his breath when he realized he had made yet another bad assumption.
Something jumped from the bridge and tackled him, knocking him from Lucille’s back. He smashed into the ground, feeling a familiar sting run through his shoulder. He was getting really tired of being knocked to the ground.

He looked up, sword drawn, but it wasn’t an Other he faced. This was a human
man, dressed in sky blue and wielding a dagger. He was shorter than Thomas by a few inches, but he was better built than the stable boy. Bright red hair seemed to shine in the dark, as did his brown eyes. He brandished the dagger at Thomas, and Thomas had no doubt which one of them was the better swordsman.

“You’re human?” Thomas asked. Startled, the man straightened slightly.

“Yeah,” he replied, “you are too?”

“Yes sir. I
ain’t one of those things.”

The stranger looked uncertain, so Thomas sheathed his blade. It wouldn’t do him much good in a fight anyway.