The Truth about Heroes: Complete Trilogy (Heroes Trilogy)

by Krista Gossett

  As they walked, Rienna realized Ashe had hung back with her and Pierait. She saw Krose still competed with Melchior (although at this point, only Melchior knew where they were going— Krose still insisted he knew plants and travel better though) and Dinsch had bounced off as well once he realized they weren’t operating under stealth at the moment, simply grateful to be rid of that wretched ship. Melchior explained that there were some other Folk on Stoneweld but they would probably not see any Bryfolk; Dinsch’s reaction to their trip had already made it clear the Bryfolk never would have left the main continent by ship willingly.

  Once the others had settled into their wanderings, Pierait decided to continue, if only to avoid the questions he saw coming. Lying might be part of his Purpose, but he didn’t like it.

  “There are some things I cannot explain to you. To the rest of the world, the Soulless seem incomplete or broken. Maybe that is true but we are straightforward whenever possible. We do not complicate our existence with choice. We simply do or don’t and the rest… is Purpose.”

  Rienna seemed to understand that well enough and nodded. “Why here, to Stoneweld?” Rienna knew precious little about magic on Vieres and absolutely nothing about its place on Stoneweld.

  “My mother’s diary was the last book I had found in all of the city. I was going to travel here eventually to find more books-my mother thought knowledge was the key. I learned who my father was and nothing came of it. There was a passage in my mother’s diary that had said that the Wellspring of Souls was real. I read all those restricted books even and it was thought to be merely a legend created by soul-bearing humans to entertain. The oldest books were not even clear on its existence.”

  “Wellspring of Souls?” Rienna asked curiously.

  “It is said to be the only place in the human world where the souls of the departed visibly gather and join the Lifestream before they are incarnated into another life,” Pierait stated matter-offactly. He seemed to be uncomfortable explaining it, but Pierait had trouble contemplating the unknown.

  “Recycled souls,” Ashe supplied, surprising Rienna who had forgotten he was close by. “Our descendants had believed that the first soul-bearing humans were given pure empty souls with potential and no knowledge, that the earth spilled forth new souls with every new birth and the souls of the departed would gather in a sort of Lifestream. Well, the Lifestream was not an infinite space and sometimes the ground would crumble away and swallow humans and it would grow. Where the Lifestream poked into our dimension, they were called Wellsprings. They say the old gods realized that the departed would eventually destroy the world and closed the fount of new souls and abandoned the Tree of Life, forcing the old souls to return to living bodies and restore the balance. The old gods’ solution was to distribute the departed back into the world via the Wellsprings that runneth over and that is also how the Soulless had eventually come about. There were so many Wellsprings to drain and as the old souls filled the newborn humans, the gods had noticed that some souls would reach an innate state of peace or a state of total corruption. To balance the extremes, they would take the souls at peace or chaos and send them into the Void through a purpose that would let them disappear. Not really a system that humans have ever been able to discern. The bodies would be sent into the world to fulfill the conditions needed to pass on. It seemed to work and the Wellsprings were disappearing from the human world. Theoretically, if the old gods are ever faced with the wellsprings disappearing completely, the Tree of Life might be reinstated to repopulate with new souls. Some fear we would all eventually become Soulless, that the old gods have forsaken us and will not sustain us.

  “They say the old gods did not anticipate or did not care that the system might have a serious snag. Although most of the Soulless were able to meet their Purpose, the corruption of humans was giving them purposes that they could not fulfill— to give them “enough wealth” when it was never enough, to be the “perfect lover” and then grow tired of them. The gods would do nothing as the bodies would meet the unfulfilled souls and watch the rage of the souls, good or evil, enter the bodies and twist into the creatures that would be called the Furies. The Furies spend most of their rage on revenge in the human world and then retreat to a hellish dimension where they devour lost souls and stop the souls of the ones they killed from cycling back. You can see why the doomsayers would believe this will eventually lead to extinction.

  “So it is because of this the Wellsprings were thought to have dried up entirely and the gods still struggle to restore a balance, which is unfortunately as optimistic as theories get. They might open the fount in attempt to prevent Soulless but no one knows how pure souls will fit into this world. Even the old gods have been unable to stop what they started or just tired of the effort. No soul can survive pure or evil in this world very long. The Soulless are the vessels that somehow champion these souls but stay empty. If they stopped being born, could the world handle the extremities of our own past lives? Pierait was sent to find a soul. I think as long as the Soulless exist, there must be a wellspring in existence. Souls would no longer need to be expunged if they met extinction. It’s optimistic, but it meets some form of logic that they exist because the wellsprings are not drained.”

  Rienna listened to Ashe’s tale in a state of wonder and it made little sense to her. It made her feel a little dizzy, once again awed by what he picked up from ‘a few books’ he read. He was more bookish that she had thought. Ashe didn’t look so happy and it seemed it made less sense to him, what the gods had been thinking, letting things get so out of hand. Pierait just nodded in agreement and kept walking. The theories were useless to him, but he was motivated by the same logic that the Soulless are connected to the continued existence of the Wellsprings that eluded them.

  “It must have something to do with magic; the Soulless are always coming from magic families. Magic must be closely tied to the Lifestream and the Void itself—magic and souls are one and the same yet strictly assigned. There must be a cycle in place that cannot be named or found, even by the gods. Like a sort of vacuum. Something draws the Furies, something draws the souls to one place,” Rienna thought aloud.

  Pierait felt something ring true in Rienna’s words and didn’t quite know why; he knew that she had no idea that she had hit on something he might be able to use.

  “The Void doesn’t devour the Soulless, Pierait, so could the Lifestream? I mean, does the Lifestream even acknowledge a body without a soul? It isn’t antimatter like the Void so you could pass through it unharmed, couldn’t you? It only wants to gather souls,” Rienna asked unsurely and Pierait shook his head.

  “It is not known, so I cannot answer. Your theories are not apart from what I have read. I can make logical connections, but your theories mean nothing to me. You can say there might be fish in the water, but for me, it isn’t there until it is. I know where to look for fish. I know their purposes and they exist according to necessity. I cannot confirm that Wellsprings even existed at all but my mother was sure that the Wellsprings had something to do with the birth of magic; it is already proven that magic and souls are cut from the same cloth. Stoneweld is the birthplace of magic so this is where I search.”

  Rienna nodded and Ashe ruffled the hair on Pierait’s head companionably and broke off to join the others. Pierait grimaced a little. Rienna felt exhausted as she wrapped her head around it.

  “I didn’t like it when I was a child and it is less tolerable to be treated like a child now,” Pierait admitted to Rienna.

  “I don’t think Ashe meant it that way. I’m fairly sure that touch is a confirmation to a tribesman, a way they can comfort or decide they trust someone. Ashe doesn’t remember his past, but I think he’s unconsciously connected to the Suleika’s ways. He doesn’t say much about himself, but then I guess there’s not much to remember. As for your fish though… You are still unique, Pierait. No matter how you think you work, you are not a machine. You don’t speak to us only because of a purpose and we
don’t only exist to you because of it. Friendship is new to you, but you should know—we aren’t simply here for a vendetta or a singular purpose. We are here for each other because we care.”

  She left Pierait with that and her thoughts took a new turn. She hadn’t known much about the Suleika as they were far to the northeast of Ersenais, but she knew a thing or two about tribe mentalities since a lot of her father’s soldiers had been orphaned or exiled from northern tribes, not necessarily tattooed ones but the north had been rife with tribes at one point. Merschenez Castle was a distant dream and she wondered, even if she survived this journey, if she could live a normal life again. She had begun to think that maybe she was too damaged to sit still, grow old and die. Pierait had stared at her intently. She felt selfconscious and smiled awkwardly.

  “Humans with souls are interesting. Your faces change when you are thinking. You are feeling the memory of emotions or preparing to feel them again. You leave the present when it does not interest you, to search for your purpose,” Pierait offered.

  “So what do you do when you are bored?” Rienna asked curiously.

  “I don’t get bored, Rienna. I am always in the present. When there is nothing to do but sit, I focus on my Purpose. I react in the present. Like when you mentioned the Lifestream and the Void being stuck in a cycle. To me, it is fact because there are no other possibilities I have found. My memory is exclusive for my Purpose.”

  “Why do you not think about possibilities to prepare yourself to succeed?” Rienna asked. “It is a form of logic to prepare.”

  “Success or failure does not concern me. Computers and machines do not hesitate because they do not fear failure or need confidence to do what they have to do. Stress drives your kind, pushes them to do better. Soulless are always running at optimal performance, regardless of circumstances. There is no ‘too much’ or ‘not enough’. It is difficult for you, but I am little more than a simple machine in a complex form. Once you understand that, you understand there is nothing to it. I travel with you because it is not against my Purpose.”

  Rienna nodded but took Pierait’s arm companionably.

  “Not against it, but like I said, you have opportunities to go and you can fend for yourself. You are more than a machine and I won’t let you forget that.”

  “My memory is impeccable,” Pierait firmly stated.

  Rienna laughed and kissed his cheek. He watched her face. Logic didn’t explain her.

  It was not entirely clear to any of them just where they were supposed to be going, although none would admit it. Melchior had told them that for now they would wrap around the west to the north a little way. Not too far inland though. They didn’t land there in case it aroused too much suspicion. Myceum was far to the southwest but they were hardly charging in. Melchior said they might want to loop back up to the port cities and see what they could find out about Night there; see if his path of destruction had tapered off or grew in fury. They had no idea how long Erised’s darkness would feed off of Night’s fury or if Night had any control and wanted it as well. They knew they did not want to confront Night so soon; there was much more to learn about their borrowed powers and none truly relished trusting the elementals in any case. Krose was constantly sneering with distaste at the ring of Light on his finger that he could not remove either. The others attempted to remove theirs, which was easy to do, but like Sea Star had told Rienna, they would return to their place if they were discarded. As much as they loathed the bond that bound them, they weren’t quite sure they wanted to be completely rid of them either.

  “We’re bending north here where the cliffs are and staying near them for the night,” Melchior told them. The port city Nemiah should be a half day from our rest spot and is the least likely to have been hit by Night. He would have had to swing east; if he is after Myceum, it is too far out of his way.” Supposing there was any of Night’s will left anyway but he didn’t need to say it. They had no way of knowing what Erised’s motives were.

  Melchior smiled in reminiscence. “Nemiah is quite the place —a hotbed of technology. A lot of the hover vehicles and they dress as weird as we do there so we won’t stand out a bit. I’m going to warn you that it is a neutral city so no mention of our plans against Myceum; we just want to glean gossip, not arouse suspicion. And I have to say I could do with a home-cooked meal rather than the survival fare. Great inns and restaurants there. The place is pretty amazing for a side port.”

  Rienna didn’t know this side of Melchior and wondered about it. He had never been particularly cheerful and wasn’t the kind she ever imagined would be a leader. He had his rivalry with Belias and he had been quiet and observant otherwise. She rarely saw his flirtatious side, but he had changed so much, it was hard to believe he was ever the boy she knew. She had wondered if that crown embedded in his temples had done something to his personality or if this was some kind of coping mechanism. She could still see the nasty bruises where the crown had pierced his temples cruelly. She was hardly the same after what she had been through but she was not completely different either. Melchior, on the other hand was hardly a shadow of who he had been. Years ago, he had made this journey before alone and their path so far was the tip of the iceberg. She had been afraid that he would drag her back to places in her memory she didn’t want to be, but instead it made her sad that he was so much better off not being in the place she had once loved.

  Stoneweld was an enormous continent full of red rock cliffs, a massive desert, and a venomous pocket of land to the southwest, where magic was strong but people were ill from being saturated in it. It was a land of death and Melchior had assured them that it wasn’t standing between them and Myceum. They would need to round the Cyryl Desert—there was an odd lush trail splitting the desert nearly directly to Myceum (called the Walk of Respite) but Melchior didn’t have to point out it was heavily guarded and regulated by Mycean patrols. He explained his spies would sweep the northern port cities before looping back around east.

  Rienna flinched at that again. His spies. It was surreal to her. It would add weeks to their plans but at this point, they couldn’t hurry anyway. He was still awaiting messages concerning gathering their army (Rienna was never going to get used to this) and getting them to the rendezvous point undetected. They would mostly be passing around the eastern Cyryl Desert, avoiding the coast and passing through Uzhuak Forest containing the Tree of Life, once rumored to be the original Fount of the Gods, the place where new souls were born. Pierait’s interest was visibly peaked at that. Rienna and Ashe exchanged a look. At least they knew Pierait would stick around for that.

  “Many books mentioned that it was destroyed,” Pierait countered.

  “Which is true enough. It had been scorched but not completely ruined. It does not bear fruit but magicians from Morgaze had secretly been sent to heal the tree and it at least bears leaves now. You won’t find that in any book—it was meant to be secret and if they had known I had been eavesdropping, my life would have been forfeit. I had been given an orb in Yasha that could block magical detection, but I still had to be careful. Very friendly women in Yasha though.”

  “So it exists but it is certainly not a fount any longer,” Pierait asked. He knew about the magicians of Morgaze being sent away on secret missions; his father Veylic had been among them.

  “If it ever was…” Melchior scoffed. Many people believed that was little more than superstition and it suited Melchior to be skeptical. “Magicians are just as colorful and persistent in their lore as the old tribes. You won’t find your souls there, but there might be a lead in it for you, friend. I don’t mean to be the pessimist here but I think it’s a lost cause. Not that that will actually sway you from your Purpose but I’m putting it out there,” Melchior said, cruel in his honesty.

  “You wouldn’t be the first to think I care about that observation,” Pierait hissed in retort. Rienna was always taken aback when Pierait exhibited strong emotions and always unsettled by how quickly his face sett
led back into that lovely blank doll’s mask. Theories usually rolled off of Pierait, but somehow this one hit a sore spot.

  Melchior shrugged unperturbed and they headed towards the natural shelter of the Red Lookout, the name that natives gave to the enormous red cliffs that walled the shoreline. They were amazingly beautiful natural towers of rock and there were these strange twisting trees with slick ebony trunks that grew straight at their solid base but bent strangely where the trunk split into reaching fingers dotted with near-florescent yellow foliage. Melchior had told them they were called Widowers and legends had said the ones here were bent like that because the elementals of wind and water had fought here once for decades and the trees refused to break. For a skeptical man, he did sometimes have a flair for the dramatic. The female trees of the species (the actual species name being palona) had been wiped out in the battle and the trees left would be the last to ever be until extinction. Rienna had thought what a shame that was—they really were amazing.

  So far, the group had remained mostly silent and let Melchior play the tour guide while they took the place in. It was truly like stepping into a whole other world; the main plant and animal life was vastly different and some of the natural formations were unlike anything they had ever seen. Melchior told them that one place that even the inhabitants never fell out of awe with was the Wailing River, the only passable spot between the Barri Mountain Range’s otherwise impassable barrier around the Barren Lands, a place he said most of the continent avoided like the plague anyway. The river itself was fresh water and ice cold and the other side of the mountains was warm saltwater seas. They guessed that an underground source, having to be near vertical was feeding and cycling the river. Its other point of wonder was how rapid it flowed. It wasn’t a rough river- at a distance, it looked still even but stick anything in it and it might get yanked in. It was smooth and slick as an eel and just as deadly. The bridge was not guarded; most people were too damn spooked to even want to cross it. The skies over the barren lands were always violet and there was almost a thick sickly green hue in the air itself. The fog was very much like the green clouds that had heralded Pierait’s own antimatter.