Souls & Spectres: The Spectral Chronicles: Book 1

by Heather Wendlowsky

  “So,” Juniper leads, “Soleil and I are gonna go get all cleaned up. I even have a little bit of makeup I’ve been saving for a special occasion! Do you guys want to meet up for the Story, or do you want to wait until after the boring stuff?”

  The three of us groan at the mention of the Story. It is painfully long, and everyone knows it, but it is required that it be shared before celebrations can start.

  “Let’s meet up for the Story,” Fox chimes in, “Maybe if we are all together, it will make it a little less boring.” He directs that last comment to Juniper, and waggles his eyebrows. We roll our eyes at him again before agreeing. In the end, we decided to meet in front of the ammunitions tent and walk to the mess hall together for the Story. The four of us go our separate ways, the two guys going to their bunk, and Juniper and I going to ours.

  The two of us get to our tent and Juniper plops down on her cot next to mine. “Ugh, I am exhausted. I was up at midnight for my guard shift. If I take a little power nap, do you promise to wake me up with enough time to do makeup and stuff before the Story?”

  I sit on my cot and grimace at the idea of having to put that gunk she calls makeup on my face. “Fine, but only if you let me do my own makeup.”

  She reluctantly agrees and falls back on her cot, boots still on, and is absolutely out like a light. I marvel at her ability to just fall asleep so automatically. Well, with her out, I guess I have to find something to do for a few hours. I don’t really have any hobbies. Mainly because nobody ever has any free time. However, I am now stuck with an abundance of free time. After a moment of contemplation, I decide to explore the area around our camp. Hopefully, I can find a river or a lake. I am still covered head to toe in soot and dried sweat from yesterday. I am in dire need of a bath.

  I grabbed a knife from my sack and popped it into my boot sheath. Properly armed, I head out of the tent and toward the edge of the plateau we are encamped on. I make my way through the woods on the rim before coming to the decline. I take advantage of the high ground to determine a route. Mont Tien lowlands are almost all forested, save for the areas cleared for crop fields. I can see cleared areas in one direction. That probably means a village. I’m not really looking for any altercation, even if we are technically under a ceasefire, so I focus on another direction. This area is just thick woods. Promising. I survey the canopy until I find an opening. Given that it is so far from the village, the likelihood of it being a cleared field is slim. Hopefully, that means a lake or pool of some kind. I estimate the clearing to be about a mile from the base of the plateau. Perfect.

  I walk along the edge of the plateau until I find a good spot to climb down. There’s a nice slope that should keep me off of my hands and knees. I ease my way down the side and hop to the ground. With a proud grin to myself, I begin my walk toward the clearing. As the sun rises higher in the sky, I roll the sleeves of my jumpsuit up my arms to combat the heat. It’s not something I normally do because of all the scars that cover my skin, but in the lonely wilderness, it is liberating. I stretch my arms before me and let the scarred white flesh catch the light. Huh. The sun reflecting across my wounds would almost be pretty if I couldn’t remember how I got them.

  I quickly lower my arms before the memories consume me. Instead, I focus on the vegetation around me as I walk. There’s a sense of peace the thick, green forest brings. How can a place so quiet be so loud? There are no people and no words to be spoken, but the space is still filled with bird song, wind in the trees, and animals chittering to each other as they play. I allow myself to be swallowed in the smells and noises, and before I know it, I’m stepping out from the trees and into a clearing.

  The vision before me is breathtaking. The trees surrounding the clearing give way to a line of wild flowers. Beyond those is a beach of colorful rocks leading into a pristine blue pool. Awestruck, I walk forward through the flowers and across the kaleidoscope of rocks. I reach my hand into the shallows to gauge the temperature of the water and nearly moan out loud. It is the perfect temperature after that hot hike! After making sure nobody is lurking in the treeline, I quickly strip off my boots and my clothes and leave them in a pile on the beach. In only my standard issue briefs and bra, I run into the water with a splash and stop when the water reaches my chest. They didn’t exactly teach us to swim in the cold basement I was kept in my whole life, so I am careful not to go too deep into the water. I hold my breath and sink below the surface. Ugh. Heaven. I come up for air and spend the next 20 minutes scrubbing at my skin, cleaning under my nails, and just splashing around in the cooling pool. Finally, I was ready to tackle my hair. I manage to pull the knotted leather strip I pretended was a hairtie from my long hair and looked to the beach where my clothes were laying. The water felt so good, I don’t want to get out! Ultimately, I decide to be lazy and try to toss the balled up strip onto the beach. I give it a solid grip and with a little jump, threw it as hard as I could toward the beach. It landed in the water a little ways away from the beach. Damn. I sulk through the water over to the new spot in the pool where it landed. I reach out to grab it, and step off a ledge.

  Suddenly, everything is bubbles and water. I struggle to find my perch or to make it to the surface. My lungs are screaming and my body has entered a state of panic. Darkness clouds my vision, and I sink. While I float to the bottom of this pool, a million thoughts shoot through my mind. What will Juniper think when I don’t come back? Will I never make it to the little cabin up north? Should I be disappointed in myself that I never made a full recovery?

  Oxygen deprivation catches up with me pretty quickly and I trade these thoughts of a life unlived for acceptance. Dying isn’t so bad. Especially in a beautiful place like this. I’ll never have my head blown off on the battlefield, or have to confront my fears ever again. I smile a little at that. I look toward the surface for a last glimpse of sunshine as blissful peace overwhelms me.

  The surface breaks, and a form is moving toward me. I frown a little. Who is messing up my serene death scene? Arms wrap around me, and as I succumb to unconsciousness, I decide that I don’t mind this touch so much. I lean into the warm embrace and let go.

  Chapter 3

  Icarus

  “Reese! Wait up!”

  I turn at the sound of my nickname, knowing it can only be one person: my best friend and self-appointed bodyguard, Wren. I smirk at the man running toward me. “Just keeping you on your toes, old friend!” I holler at him as he approaches. He reaches me and shakes his head while he tries to catch his breath. “Man, you have got to work on your cardio. I was only a couple hundred feet from the tent! This is just embarrassing,” I tease.

  The man looks up at me with his stereotypical Mont Tienent gray eyes. “If I wouldn’t be beheaded for smacking a prince, I’d smack you,” he bit back, but I could hear the amusement behind his words. Especially since he does smack me. Regularly.

  I smile and bump him with my shoulder affectionately. If I had to have a bodyguard, which I do, I’m glad it's him and not one of my father’s usual goons.

  The two of us make our way through the encampment in the woods near a little village on our country’s border. Soldiers salute or bow as we walk through. I give them all smiles of acknowledgment and little waves back. It’s pretty much second nature now. That’s probably a good thing. I’ll be 21 in just a couple more months, so I’ll start my Soul Findings. As I make my way to the council tent, I decide that I’ll miss the battle camp. It’s a violent lifestyle, but the camaraderie and patriotism I’ve experienced being here since I was sent here for training on my 18th birthday has made it something worth missing.

  Wren and I walk into the tent where the war council meets. Everyone is already there and waiting for me. The council stands in respect until I am seated in my spot at the head of the table. General Dumont, the older man in charge of this company’s military movements, remains standing at the opposite end of the table. “Prince Icarus, thank you for joining us for this impromptu meeting,” says Ge
neral Dumont, “Our scouts have confirmed that Geochroma has established an encampment in the Plato Hills, just a mile over our border. We have to assume that they will move to take Chrioch village as a means of creating a stronghold in Mont Tien. I believe our best course of action would be to strike before they move to keep pedestrian risk to a minimum.”

  Murmurs of surprise run through the rest of the council. Mont Tien has always avoided war as much as possible, only inserting ourselves as a means of defense. This is an awfully bold offensive move, much different than our usual involvement. I frown at the general and stand. “While I understand the need to keep Geochromans from the village, both humanely and strategically, I can’t agree to this offensive attack without undeniable certainty that it is their intent to infiltrate the village. They may just be passing by in an attempt to create space between them and Thalassi. If this is the case, an unprovoked attack by our army would just further complications between our countries.”

  General Dumont rubs his hand across the white stubble of his chin in contemplation. “Your Highness, it is simply too much of a risk of attack. We absolutely cannot allow them to create an opportunity to take Mont Tien land.

  “Furthermore, we are already at war, Prince Icarus, as you well know. There are no further complications that could occur more severe than that.”

  “General Dumont,” I warn, “I do not pull rank when it comes to your movements, as I am here as a soldier for Mont Tien,” I harden my voice and lean forward on the table, “However, until your scouts can confirm without a reasonable doubt that the Geochroman encampment is intending a hostile takeover of Chrioch, I will not allow my people’s lives to be risked for bloodshed that could have been easily avoided. Do I make myself clear?”

  The general bows his head and mutters affirmations, as do the rest of the councilmembers. With that, I spin and exit the tent, Wren hot on my heels. I fume in silence as we stomp towards my private tent. Once we are inside and in private, I groan and flop back on my mattress. Wren plops into one of the cushioned chairs nearby.

  “No further complications?!” I burst, “Uhh, how about trying to end this war? Does that concept not cross his angry little mind? Isn’t that the whole point of this? Ending the war?”

  “Reese, you know they don’t care about ending anything until they find what they’re looking for,” Wren speaks up from his lounging spot.

  I roll my eyes, but he’s right. Of course they won’t let go of a hundred years of combat without getting what they want. I’m not exactly looking forward to ruling one of the four kingdoms, but I am looking forward to sending my people home. To start rebuilding. To use the gifts our country has given us for healing and not total destruction.

  As I lay there pondering these hopes of the future, I’m ripped from my plans by an earthquake shaking through the camp. Wren leaps up and hauls me under the desk with him. I smile and roll my eyes at his theatrics. “It’s just a little one,” I say, “Hiding under a table is hardly necessary.”

  Wren grins back. “Well, I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t protect the big, bad prince of Mont Tien.”

  The shaking stops almost as quickly as it started and we can hear the cheers ensue from outside. I can’t help but smile for my battalion. They deserve the time to celebrate. Not to mention, the automatic ceasefire will keep Dumont at bay, so no need to worry about the Geochromans. Wren misinterprets my smile for another reason and gives me a little punch on the shoulder. “Just think, Reese: a couple more months of this and you’ll be the one causing Resonations. Or, at least one of two,” he singsongs suggestively.

  My face falls at the mention of my upcoming 21st birthday. Wren knows me better than anyone, but I’ve never really talked to him about my apprehension for the Soul Finding coming up. Most people only dream of being Gifted. He wouldn’t understand if I told him I was having doubts. It isn’t that I don’t want that love that comes with the Gift. I just can’t help but feel that this is just another thing that is being forced upon me. Being a prince, my entire life has been planned and enacted on me, but not by me. The idea that I don’t even get to choose my own love is like a punch in the gut.

  I sigh and stand. “I’m going to take a little walk before the Story tonight. Clear my head.”

  Wren stands and goes to grab his civilian clothes. I reach out my hand to stop him. “Nah, man, just me,” I explain, “I really need some time to myself.”

  Wren sighs. “Fine,” he agrees, “but lay low. I’m not trying to play Knight in Shining Armor tonight. At least, not to you.” He throws a wink at me and I can’t help but chuckle at his lame joke. He waves goodbye and takes off. I smile at his retreating form and turn toward the map of the area laying across my desk. I do a quick survey and find a small pool in the forest, about two miles from Chrioch. Perfect.

  Plan in place, I select an army green t-shirt and a pair of blue slacks from my wardrobe. Shrugging my green and brown uniform off, I sigh in relief at the soft feel of my casual clothes. I pull the leather tie holding my shoulder-length white hair in its low ponytail out and switch it into a little bun on the top of my head. Throwing a couple lunch rations and a knife into a backpack, I head for the door.

  The camp is a mess of soldiers in civilian clothes, hollering their joy and huddled in groups, plotting their free day. Smiling to the groups, I make my way out of the camp and into the woods. I breathe in the clean, crisp air. The forest has always been one of my favorite places. Here, I’m Prince Icarus, Mont Tien Crown Prince. There’s just Reese.

  After about 30 minutes of hiking, I can see the light breaking through the trees. I emerge into the clearing and immediately step back into the shadows. It seems I’m not the only one looking for a dip. I can see a form standing in the water. As I am about to turn away and find another spot to unwind, the form suddenly disappears beneath the water. I watch with alarm, waiting for them to resurface. When a few seconds pass without an appearance, I realize something is wrong. I race to the edge of the water, pulling off my clothes and my backpack as I sprint across the meadow. I wade through the water until I approach the spot I saw them go under. Taking a deep breath, I dive.

  It takes a moment for my eyes to focus with the blue water surrounding me. Then, I see her: a nearly naked girl laying on the bottom of the pool. Her long brown hair is spread in a halo around her head, and with the light reflecting through the water, she looks like an angel.

  Refocusing, I swim lower until I reach her still body. I pull her slim form into my arms, and push us to the surface. By the time I carry her to the beach, her refusal to wake up has me panicking in a way that seems nearly irrational, given the infinite amount of death I’ve seen. And this stranger seems to somehow permeate into my mind. Maybe it was because we aren’t on a battlefield. In all the beauty of this place, I can’t let this angel taint it with her death.

  I lay her out on the beach. She still isn’t waking up. Brushing her hair from her face, I start chest compressions, occasionally parting her lips to send a burst of air into her lungs. It’s only about a minute, but it feels like an eternity when she starts coughing. I gasp in relief and turn her onto her side. It’s only when I start to pat her back to help get the water out of her lungs that I notice the white scar tissue crisscrossing its way across her tan skin. My relief turns to horror as I take in the violence painted across her body. Scars from blades cover her arms, legs, stomach, and chest. Her back was marred with the signs of years worth of lashings.

  As if she can sense my gaze, she whips her head around and pushes her body a few feet from me. Before I can attempt any sort of apology, my eyes catch hers, and whatever words I was about to convey are lost. All I can see is green: the leaves, the meadow, and this angel’s eyes.

  Chapter 4

  Soleil

  There I was, adrift in a peaceful nothingness. It seemed like a starry night sky I never noticed before existed behind my eyelids: cold, dark, and endless. Huh. I could get used to this. I settle in for an eternit
y in my forever night. As I accept this new galaxy as permanent, a pulse of heat shoots through my sky. Then another. Before I know it, my night sky is lit by shooting stars, each bringing a new inferno through the abyss and into my still chest. A thrumming of pain and burning begins. Just when I don’t think I can take anymore before I combust, I open my eyes on a rocky beach.

  Water pushes its way from my lungs and out my mouth. Warm hands turn me onto my side and pat my back while I spew water over the colorful stones. The burning in my lungs is unrelenting. Damn. Dying wasn’t that bad, but the pain in coming back to life is something else.

  As I catch my breath, I am suddenly hyperaware of the hands on my back. They are no longer patting, and just still over my tangled flesh. I turn in a panic and throw myself back, fully prepared to either murder the stranger touching me in the middle of the woods, or slip into a full blown panic attack. Before I have a chance to either, I meet his eyes.

  Any thoughts of defense melt away as I stare into what I can only describe as a storm. The depth of gray seems to only become more defined the longer I stare. The most minute hints of green, violet, and sapphire hide in the folds of the clouds, as if just waiting to roll in thunder and rain.

  What are you talking about? This is a stranger in the woods. You should not be ogling his pretty eyes. I take a breath and refocus on the man kneeling on the rocks in front of me. He is clearly a Mont Tienent. He has the same deep tan from living so close to the sun, as they all do. His wet platinum hair is pulled into a loose bun on top of his head. The man is wearing only a pair of blue slacks, so I get a good look at his muscular body. What? Don’t look at that! Refocus! I feel a slight blush creep across my cheeks and look back to his face. The only thing I notice before his strong jawline and his full pale lips is the furious expression on his face.

  Upon seeing the deadly anger plainly on his face, I remember that we are supposed to be enemies, and he has me alone in the woods. My wits return to me and I scramble backward in a panic, looking around for my clothes. If I could just reach my knife stashed in my boot, I might have a shot. I spot the pile a few feet away, and make a rush for my knife. Firmly gripping the handle, I turn back toward the Mont Tienent. His position on his knees hasn’t changed, but his face reads of intense sadness.