Soul Stealer: Legacy of the Blade

by Joseph J. Bailey

  I bawled like a babe returned to his mother’s arms after an absence far too long in an unwelcome stranger’s custody.

  Unlike my companions, I had no problems with sentimentality.

  The Light pushed the swirling portal leading into Darkness inward upon itself until it finally disappeared with a decisive pop which I felt as a subtle resettling of rightness.

  Relaxing now that the gateway into the nether realms had subsided, I turned a newly minted smile upon my friends. “I hate to admit it, but I missed you both.”

  Sometimes letting others know how you felt was harder than feeling itself.

  Their response, was, as usual, none.

  Unfazed, I gathered Loer’allon and Lucius up into my arms and gave them a hug.

  Which, if you’ve ever tried, is not exactly the easiest gesture.

  Swords and rocks are not the most huggable objects.

  Just as I am not the most huggable person.

  But I did my best.

  Unyielding rocks and bladed edges be damned.

  Lucius regarded me smugly.

  “And wipe that grin off your face. Just because you’re back doesn’t mean you get to lord it over me.”

  My weak reprimand had done nothing to dint Lucius’s mood.

  But my mood was not so firm.

  My joy left quickly as I regarded my reflection in Loer’allon’s depths. “We lost Alric… I almost lost myself.”

  To my surprise, the Uërthly Host remained, observing our reunion impassively, the risen Angel Swords still forming a scintillating ring around us.

  Was I still on Uërth?

  What had I done to warrant this sustained divine attention?

  Was I about to be transported to some other realm?

  The situation was rather surreal.

  To say the least.

  To be frank, it’s not every day that one’s actions are actively regarded by the principal actors of Heaven and their chosen weapons of demonic destruction.

  At least in my somewhat limited, and often misguided, experience.

  The situation made me rather nervous.

  Which is to say even more nervous than usual.

  Which is saying quite a bit.

  And not just whiches.

  As I examined the depths of Loer’allon’s blade, I began to realize that my proclamation about Alric might have been somewhat premature.

  As was the case with the other Angel Swords in attendance, a parade of men of noble mien, dauntless heroes of many races, and angels before them stretched backward and outward through the swords’ inner facets like a diamond whose facets link not just surfaces but people, places, and ideals.

  So many regarded me from within the blades’ depths that I began to wonder if all the Swords were somehow connected.

  First among those who now regarded me was Alric himself. His smile was as bright as my frown was intense.

  My heart skipped a beat, or three, as he spoke. “Something of me yet remains, Saedeus.”

  Miracles, it seemed, were sometimes without end.

  Each Angel Sword was a Heaven unto itself.

  Within each sword’s crystalline facets, the majesty of angels soared, the strength of Empyrean Guard flowed, and the ideals and gallantry of heroes persevered.

  The might of the Heaven held within each Angel Sword vied directly against the forces of Hell threatening without.

  Based on what I sensed of my own sword, I do not think the Alric within Loer’allon, or the Alric linked through the other Angel Swords and felt through Loer’allon, was the entirety of his essence. Rather, I think this semblance was more like a complete reflection or projection of his soul upon its last interaction with Loer’allon.

  He felt subtly different and yet the same.

  I felt like I was meeting an old friend for the first time. We would have to grow together once more to bridge the gap between what we had experienced separately.

  If we did it once, we could do it twice.

  And, if something of Alric remained in the blade, that meant a part of me did as well…which was a frightful thought unto itself.

  I actually felt bad for Heaven.

  On a positive note, if a part of me also abided within Loer’allon, then I imagined the me inside the sword would help bring Alric back up to speed.

  If I didn’t slow him down.

  If not, there were other ways.

  I imagined quite a bit would happen whether I wanted it to or not while we dwelled together in the common space of dreams.

  I smiled. “You are more and less than I remember.”

  His smile reflected my own. “You are more or less right than I remember.”

  And so it began anew.

  To Begin Again

  The posse was back together!

  My pet rock, who, in truth, probably regarded me as his soft, squishy pet, the angelic sword that I had no right to claim, only the honor to bear, and my ghostly adviser were all with me.

  I could not believe my luck or my rapid change of fate.

  After all I’d been through, seeing my friends again and sharing their company was the greatest reward I could envision. Their presence filled the holes of loss and suffering that riddled my traumatized psyche.

  I would be whole through them.

  I would be renewed with them.

  I would be remade by them.

  I was fortunate beyond measure.

  But I already knew that.

  At least I did now.

  My reverie was short-lived.

  As was my vision.

  The heavenly radiance coruscating around me intensified beyond reckoning, reminding me that I yet sat within the company of angels.

  Or their ghosts.

  Apparently angels did not like to be ignored.

  Based on their social cues—that is to say, their blinding radiance—I also decided angels had little need for vision because if I stayed around them much longer I would never see again.

  No words were spoken.

  No prophetic visions materialized.

  No portents were uttered.

  Instead, the divine Light of the blades around me brightened, washing away all boundaries and conceptions.

  There was only Light without limit.

  Gradually I came back to myself not knowing how long I had been gone, slowly realizing that the Light was fading, returning to normalcy.

  My body seemed foreign, an afterthought, something I had not visited or considered in a very long time. My throat burned when I finally swallowed…as parched as the denuded land around me.

  I must have been lost in absorption for some time.

  Dreading the reunion with the outside world, I carefully opened my watering eyes to the sun.

  The Host of Angel Swords was gone.

  Now, however, I could still sense their heavenly glow across the landscape, a cleansing fog that kept the demons at bay, one that would help the land return to normalcy in time.

  At least here.

  Wiping the tears from my eyes as I readjusted to daylight, my eyes fell upon the dirty rags that had once been my tunic.

  A sheen of magical force shimmered liquidly, almost imperceptively, around me, warping fluidly like the heat haze visible on the far horizon.

  The return of my friends had not been enough. The angels had decided I was in dire need, or else I was such a sad case that some form of supplemental assistance was in order.

  Either way, I would take their offering.

  Materialized around me in what I could only think of as the concentrated Lights of the Angel Swords themselves, the sanctified blessing of the angels of the Heavenly Host, was the armor of the Empyrean Knights.

  I now bore an Empyrean Aegis, a Sigil Shield of the Empyrean Knights.

  I had been anointed.

  Whether I wanted it or not.

  Demons beware!

  A new harvester of souls has come!

  A Conversation

  “What is death l
ike, Alric?”

  I asked questions to pass the time as we journeyed southward.

  Alric refused to answer for the same reasons.

  We were still in the region protected by the Angel Swords’ fall, the burial ground of angelic apparitions.

  The land literally glowed with power in my inner vision.

  I must have been on the outskirts of the region when the Angel Swords first made their appearance because the area we were now walking through was actually normal.

  There were plants.

  And animals.

  And at least one shocked onlooker.

  After toiling through so much land leeched of life, encountering an area that was as it had been was somewhat disconcerting. It seemed wrong…like happening upon ice floating in a stream in the fullness of summer.

  I was the one out of place.

  Although this stability came at a terrible cost, I was heartened to see that there were yet parts of the Southern Reaches that were still resisting the demons’ advance.

  The world was alive with color and vibrancy.

  Trees sheathed in symbiotic magical lattices, luminescent scales, quavering tendrils, variegated frills, and jewel-like protrusions sheltered clear flowing streams and still valleys. Birds called to one another liquidly, their voices a bright chorus countered by the metallic songs of insects. Fey creatures flitted in the air and darted through the undergrowth, their presence sensed rather than seen.

  I almost felt like I was back home.

  I wanted to be back home.

  I wanted to linger and soak in the beauty, to refresh myself and reconnect with the land as it was meant to be.

  But that was a trap as deadly as any demon’s.

  I could lose myself here.

  And with this loss, my purpose.

  When Alric finally spoke to me, I knew his voice now originated from within Loer’allon but it still echoed through my mind. “Death is but the beginning of life’s last and greatest adventure, Saedeus.”

  “Which does not answer my question, Alric.”

  “Nor will it.”

  I exhaled in frustration. Trying to get answers from Alric, either the old Alric whose memory haunted the recesses of my mind, or the new Alric who loitered within the confines of Loer’allon, was about as fruitful as trying to pull a dragon’s tooth.

  If you were lucky, you did not get bitten. At worst you were eaten. Somewhere in the middle, you lost your hand or arm.

  You never got the dragon’s tooth.

  At least not until it was dead.

  Which brought me back to my question. “So what, then, can you tell me, O’ Great Arbiter of Truth?”

  “Less and more than you would wish to know, Persistent Asker of Questions.”

  I think this new Alric had taken something of my sarcasm into himself.

  A little too much…

  Was that an unfortunate consequence of sharing a bit of my reflection with him inside the blade?

  Sighing defeatedly, I asked, “What are you willing to tell me? And before you offer a droll answer that does not move the conversation forward, please tell me what you would.”

  Speaking with true emotion, Alric’s voice evinced a rare passion in my mind. “I never truly died, Saedeus. A reflection of me has lived on in you while a reflection of me has also lived on through the Angel Swords.”

  “Do you mean the real you has never died? Because I saw your body lying in the dirt, bleeding out after the demon killed you.”

  “The me talking to you has never died.

  “A part of me was within Loer’allon and the other Angel Swords even then and another part of me was drawn into you when my body died.

  “I have not died, so I cannot answer your question.

  “The part of me that was in you is gone.

  “Perhaps you should ask him.”

  I pouted. “But you’re all I have!”

  “And you have all the answer I can give.”

  When I did not reply for some time, obviously still pouting, he added, “Look around you, Saedeus. You live in a world of magic made real, of angels and demons. Hell is beating at out doorstep, charging in through the Chaos Gate, and the armies of Heaven have fallen.

  “There is an afterlife. Heaven exists.

  “I am just not a part of it, at least not completely, so I cannot answer your questions directly.

  “You interact with the divine daily. It is all around you, from your heavenly sword to the radiant Light that suffuses Creation making magic possible.

  “What more do you want?

  “Help rid the world of its ills that Paradise can be more clearly seen and felt on Uërth.

  “If you truly wish to experience Heaven, that is your task. Realize the divine in your heart and bring that realization to life in the world around you.

  “Help it grow.

  “Foster its development.

  “Bring forth the Light that others may shine.”

  Score one for the disembodied ghost.

  I would keep my questions to myself.

  At least for the next few minutes.

  A Change of Scenery

  Although Alric indicated that there were outposts of civilization within the region sheltered by the fallen Angel Swords’ magic, ones I would be wise to visit, I carefully steered clear of any signs of humanity.

  After my experience in Tueran, I was in no hurry to interact with my fellow men.

  Besides, Lucius was great company.

  I could barely get a word in edgewise with all his chatter.

  What more did I need?

  More importantly, being by myself in safe lands also allowed me to experiment freely with the Sigil Shield.

  While Alric’s teaching at night continued with a particular focus on the armor and its usage, direct experience of the Aegis’s capabilities was preferable in my mind.

  The world was brighter, sharper, and capacious with the armor on. I could feel my environs with a clarity that I had not anticipated. My world, my sense of self, expanded outward and, with this extension, my sense of what was intrinsically possible grew as well.

  Just moving was different.

  I floated across the landscape, indefatigable.

  I didn’t feel like I was walking on clouds. I felt like I was a cloud—light, free, and unhindered.

  Strangely, I simultaneously felt charged with energy, power, and strength, able to do anything with ease and minimal effort.

  And it was true.

  I bounded across the landscape, leaping over trees effortlessly, tossing boulders high into the air—much to Lucius’s disapproval—and wielding Loer’allon with a skill and confidence of one born to the blade, as if she were an extension of myself.

  And she was.

  My connection with Loer’allon deepened, the Sigil Shield heightening our connection, bringing us closer, attuning us to one another, and amplifying our abilities. I could sense the other Angel Swords through Loer’allon and the apparitions of their masters, present and past, just as I knew they now sensed me.

  Though I did not communicate or share knowledge through the blade, I now understood this, too, was possible. I wondered if I would be able to take that ability further and internalize knowledge directly as I did when taking in the soul of another.

  Through Loer’allon I was provided a window into a much wider world.

  One where foolhardy young men inexperienced with true freedom whooped and hollered, bounding across the countryside with the eager abandon of a child lost to the thrill of the moment, the rush of new and exciting feelings, and the excitement of imagined vistas made real in a mind’s eye not yet enclosed by thoughts of limitation or loss.

  I suppose that was another reason I avoided others of my kind in the zone of safety.

  No one needed to see me so giddily happy.

  Or being odder than I normally was.

  I did not want to lose that feeling while I had it.

  I was just glad to experie
nce such reckless joy.

  I knew the feelings would be short-lived.

  I was walking on an island, an iceberg floating in a warming sea of hostility. All around this refuge, demons held sway over the land, a vile plague of life-devouring iniquity. As in so many other places across Uërth, the bounds of human activity, the realm of human influence, were shrinking, falling back to regions of safety—ice melting before the demonic heat of summer.

  Within just a few too-short days, the lush, unsullied landscape began to change, slowly losing its luster and verdancy.

  With each reluctant step forward, I entered more and more fully into demon territory once more.

  Something New

  While I was bounding from side to side along the walls of a deep canyon heading generally southward, flying over large, tumbled rocks and leaping to and from cliff faces as I tested myself within the arcane armor, Alric surprised me with a question.

  He had been silent the whole day.

  “Did you notice what you did to bring Loer’allon and Lucius back?”

  I dropped to the canyon bottom to give his question my full attention. “What do you mean? The angels brought Loer’allon and Lucius back.”

  “No, Saedeus.

  “You did.”

  The return of my friends was such a blur…I had just garnered some semblance of clarity in my mind after the demonic possession and subsequent cleansing by the angelic Light that I could not recall the details clearly.

  I could barely remember what had happened, much less how it had happened.

  “I did what?

  “The angels, the Angel Swords, brought Lucius and Loer’allon back to Uërth.”

  “No. You took the power around you, manifested by the Angel Swords, molded it to your vision, expressed your need, and brought your friends back.

  “You did not take the power from someone dying.

  “You did not take the power from within yourself.

  “You took the power to express your need from divine beings.

  “If you can draw energy like that to fulfill your need from beings birthed to power, entities whose limits are beyond mortal ken, who are power incarnate, I do not know what you cannot do, Saedeus.