Souls of the Never: A Fantasy Scifi Romance Time Travel series, with Dragons, Elves and Faeries. (Tales of the Neverwar Series Book 1)

by CJ Rutherford

  There was a forest stretching below them for as far as they could see and Katheryne marvelled at the sheer vitality coming from it. The power and intensity of the life coming from this world dwarfed anything she could ever have imagined.

  At Olumé’s mental suggestion she shifted them and they dropped down into a wide meadow.

  Here at ground level the force was almost intoxicating and she was almost caught up in it. But she knew she had a job to do and so drew her awareness back into herself.

  Katheryne felt Olumé inside her mind, guiding her actions as she shifted the view in the rift.

  As she looked upwards the sun began to speed across the sky, blue turning to black as night sped on before day. Faster and faster it became before it was a blur of greyness.

  “How far does she have to go back?” Katheryne asked. Her casual tone surprised her as she realised what she was asking. How far should she…Katheryne, send her mother’s soul back in time?

  “Oh, about sixteen years should suffice, time works slower in the Glade,” Olumé replied.

  As the blur slowed again to become a beautiful sunny day, Katheryne felt her mind grasp onto the soul of her mother and move it over the threshold. She looked on in wonder as the globe of light crossed over into this amazing place, drawing energy from its surrounding, using the increased vitality available in this world to transform into a baby girl as she gently lowered her to the ground.

  “She’s so beautiful,” Katheryne whispered, crying freely.

  “Your mother said those exact same words when she first laid eyes on you.”

  Katheryne looked across in disbelief at Olumé.

  “I have been ‘keeping an eye on you’ since before you were born Katheryne,” he revealed, smiling gently, but there was a hint of something else there and Katheryne sensed a shadow pass over his heart as the rift began to close.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, all of a sudden concerned for her mother again. She looked back as the rift shut. “Won’t she be safe there?”

  “Yes my dear,” Olumé said, but his head was bowed, “Your mother will be safe in the Glade until it is time.”

  “Then what’s wrong? Haven’t we done what we set out to do?” asked Katheryne.

  Olumé seemed to deflate, all the happiness and mischief he had previously projected seeming to evaporate.

  “I’m sorry to say that yes, we have done everything exactly as I...planned it.” There was no glee or satisfaction this time, and panic and confusion set in within Katheryne as the remnant of Olumé turned to her with tears in his eyes.“I’m sorry Katheryne,” he said solemnly. “Your mother’s soul would never have been found by Tenybris, for he would not have been drawn to the innocence he so savoured.”

  Katheryne didn’t...couldn’t know what was happening. She had saved her mother, moved her across time and space to ensure Tenybris had no way to find her.

  So why was Olumé so melancholy when they had won?

  “Separating them was the only way. If there had been any other possibility, please believe me I would not have done this. I have watched across the ages for any opportunity that would have prevented the need for this...travesty, but my plan, my greatest ever plan relies on it, if you are to triumph eventually.”

  What did he mean eventually? What other way? Why was he sorry? Who had he separated whom from? Her mum had been the only soul here.

  The old man became transparent, as if with his task complete he had to return to the energy he truly was. As she watched him return to the Never and dissipate throughout the whole universe she sensed a feeling of great sadness and regret, before at last Olumé was gone.

  Katheryne was alone again. Her mother was safe but what had Olumé meant? What had he done to feel so tragically sorry for?

  She felt lost and confused for what seemed like hours as she wandered the Never, but just as she decided she should return to her own time and face the aftermath of what she had done, she was overcome with a feeling of utter terror.

  All around her there was a presence, a malevolence that dwarfed the power of the beast by several levels of magnitude.

  Katheryne searched for the monster bound within herself, intending to release its fury and power now, only to realise this thing around her was capable of swatting anything she threw at it like a tiny insect.

  Her horror mounted. How could she fight this thing? Derren and the rest had been wrong, their prophecy utterly flawed. She felt the consciousness that was Tenybris approaching, could sense the ravenous hunger and thirst.

  For a second the voice of Olumé whispered in her head, “You are hope, Katheryne…use it.”

  She didn’t fully understand, but her strength renewed as final defiance manifested itself within her. She felt Olumé guiding her again as the presence faltered and shifted its attention.

  What could it be shifting to? Katheryne was alone here now that Olumé and the soul of her mother had gone.

  Then she realised the dreadful truth. She wasn’t alone. There was another presence here and she turned to behold a tiny globe of light. So tiny it could only be one thing.

  It was a light as pure and bright as a sun, and familiar to her as she recognised the voice which had saved her from her own monstrous rage. It was a soul so innocent that as she had deflected Tenybris’s attention he had been drawn to her.

  Katheryne looked on in horror as Tenybris moved toward the infant soul. All she had time to do was reach out and touch it for a fleeting instant, desperately joining a shard of herself and her hope to her sibling, before she watched helplessly as Tenybris dragged her baby sister’s soul away across the Never, screaming in terror.

  34 – The Glade – FaerHaven

  Gwenyth and Amilee stood gazing in awe at the sight before them. They’d walked most of the day, leading the Brownies along seldom travelled paths through the forest, but now they stood at the edge of FaerHaven, the home of the Faer folk.

  Both of them had been here before but the sight was always breath-taking in its magnificence. In a clearing stretching up through a large opening in the canopy above stood the Tree, and the light from it lit their faces and the forest around. Hues of gold and silver mixed with the rich greens. The aroma of life and freshness was everywhere.

  The Tree was the vitality of the forest and the essence of every bud on each and every living plant was bound to it, flowing and ebbing throughout the boughs that stretched towards the sky. It was huge, dwarfing the other mighty oaks at the edge of the clearing and pinpricks of light could be seen flitting through the branches above, resembling hundreds of tiny fireflies.

  Both of them knew these were in fact the Faer themselves, and as they left the cover of the trees, several of these tiny figures flew swiftly toward them. As they approached, Gwenyth saw them take shape as they seemed to grow. Indeed, by the time they had reached the pair, the figures had grown to normal size. As they landed lightly on their feet they folded a pair of gossamer wings in against their backs.

  There were three of them, and as they looked at Gwenyth and Amilee they smiled brightly and happily, giving of an aura of carefree purity. Unfortunately, Gwenyth was only too aware of how thin this shell of innocence could be.

  The Faer were by no means evil, but their peculiar definition of fun could have stretched the imagination way beyond anything even she would dare to try.

  And the power they wielded was multiplied tenfold when they were in the clearing close to the Tree, so it was with caution that Gwenyth began the greeting.

  “My Queen,” she bowed toward the figure dressed in gold and green robes of silk.

  “You do us a great honour in meeting us like this. Thank you for accepting our request for audience.”

  The Queen looked across at the male wearing a silver and blue robe and the other who was attired differently. His crystal armour shone with a magical light, and his sword, also crystal, burnt with a blue flame at his side.

  “So Cantror,” she teased with a musical tone, “Do you
still feel threatened by these two younglings? Their courteousness alone belies the wild rumours I have heard of them.”

  Cantror took his hand off the pommel of the sword to point at Gwenyth and Amilee.

  “This pair have led me a merry dance for years, Majesty,” he scowled, “If it’s not stealing ambrosia to intoxicate the bees, it’s fighting running battles through the streets of the Citadel with our own younglings. They are a menace and even that one’s father agrees.”

  The third person chuckled and Cantror glowered at him.

  “It sounds much more like younglings having fun than an attempt at widespread destruction my friend,” laughed Thomyne, the prince consort. The sound was melodious and merry. He turned to the two girls.

  “I know I shouldn’t say this, but Cantror has just reminded me how funny your trick with the bees was…Do you know it took the herders three days to sober them up? Oh the furore they raised was so hilarious, I haven’t laughed so hard in years.”

  Gwenyth looked across at Amilee who had an incredulous expression on her face.

  “Actually your highness,” smiled Gwenyth, “We didn’t mean to get them that drunk...we sort of, dropped the barrel into the hive.”

  The Queen and Thomyne chuckled their musical laugh as Cantror continued to glare grumpily at them.

  “You see?” she grinned at Cantror, “Hardly a case for capital punishment my old friend, simply younglings making merry.”

  Cantror reluctantly shrugged his shoulders.

  “They do seem to have perfected a degree of respect that we seldom encounter in their people,” he grunted, “Perhaps they have grown out of their foolishness.”

  He gave the girls a look which told them he suspected this about as much as he thought he could breathe underwater.

  The Queen looked at them, the smile still on her face but with an air of curiosity.

  “So, what brings you to the Tree Gwenyth? I sense this isn’t a social visit, although your other, ‘visits’ could hardly be called this either.” She grinned mischievously at the pair.

  “You’re right of course your Majesty,” she replied, “I...we, have a favour to ask.”

  “Hmm...a favour.” The Queen smiled as she glanced over at Cantror and saw his face redden.

  “Why should we grant a favour, especially to you Gwenyth, daughter of Hallor,” she asked, smiling enigmatically. “You and your friend here have caused quite a bit of disruption among my people, so why should I feel the urge to help you now?”

  “Because it’s not for us,” replied Gwenyth, “We found some...friends who need assistance, and we thought you might like to help.”

  The Queen stared back with her head tilted to one side, as if she was listening to something far away.

  “Ah, yes…the Brownies.” She smiled at the shocked expression on the girl’s faces. “None can approach the Tree without permission, whether consciously sought or unconsciously granted.”

  “We have been watching and assisting the Brownies for a few days now,” the Queen continued, “We have ensured that when they camp it is always within a stone’s throw of a stream or spring, and we have taken care that their route has been close enough to plants which could provide them with fruit and berries.”

  Gwenyth was amazed but warmed by the generosity of the Faer Folk. They were not often known for their hospitality.

  The Queen seemed to hear her thoughts.

  “Brownies are part of the forest, as are we. Though distant, they are kin to us and we would never allow harm to come to them.”

  She turned her enigmatic smile on Gwenyth, “But I suspect that you are thinking of a more...permanent arrangement?”

  Gwenyth smiled in relief. She had expected a lot more animosity and resistance than was apparent here.

  “Yes, my Queen,” she admitted, “They are fleeing from darkness at the root of the forest and have no home to return to. If somewhere safe could be found, nearby where you could perhaps keep an eye on them? I would be...in your dept, Majesty.” Gwenyth bowed again.

  The Queen’s face darkened for a second but it was Thomyne who spoke next.

  “We are aware of this shadow at the heart.” He frowned. “We have lost a scout who went to investigate and are readying a force to journey in search of him.”

  “You’ve lost a scout?” blurted Amilee in alarm, “but the Faer can’t get lost, this is your forest!”

  The Queen turned to her. “Indeed my child, it would take something most unfortunate to prevent one of my people from returning to FaerHaven. And there is a sickness growing on one of the branches at the heart of the Tree itself that remains untouched by all our healing arts.”

  The smiles and veneer of happiness were gone now as Gwenyth realised something had changed between them. In caring for the Brownies, they had shown the Queen and her consort they had a concern for the health and wellbeing of their forest.

  “Is there anything we can do to help, Majesty?” asked Gwenyth.

  The Queen pondered for a time before speaking, “Thank you, Gwenyth for your kind offer. I would appreciate it if you could carry warning to your father and the Council of the situation. I cannot leave the Tree while it is sick, for fear of it weakening without my bond, and I have no one else who can be freed. Your appearance here today is indeed fortuitous.”

  Amilee, however, highlighted just one cause for concern. “Ah...your Majesty, I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but we’re not exactly the Councils, or indeed her father’s, favourites at the moment….I’m not sure they’d listen to a word we say.” She looked down, guiltily.

  “In fact I’m pretty sure they’ll think we we’re playing some sort of prank,” she finished.

  “Which is why I’m giving you this to take back with you.” The Queen held out a slender arm and handed a golden bud to Gwenyth. “This will ensure you are treated as my proxy. Keep it safe and return it to me with any message the council sends.”

  Gwenyth was astounded. What the Queen had just done was to appoint her as an ambassador to the Citadel from the court of the Faer Folk. No other being outside the Folk had ever been granted such an Honour.

  “Your Majesty, you have no idea what this means to me,” she gasped, but was amazed when the Queen crossed to her and touched her on the arm.

  “I think, judging by your reaction I have some idea at least,” chuckled the Queen, “but I think I have chosen my envoy wisely. Gwenyth, there is wisdom and power untapped inside you. You may spend most of your time trying to prove otherwise, but some of us can see past this, to the core of your being.”

  Gwenyth looked puzzled as she wondered what the Queen meant. She knew she had power within her, but wisdom? Nothing she had ever done could have been defined as wise; in fact most of it came under the heading of stupid or reckless.

  She gave the Queen a wry expression of thanks.

  “I hope I won’t disappoint you my queen,” she said quietly.

  “Oh my dear,” comforted the Queen, “you have no idea what path lies before you. Did you know that my people sometimes have visions? Our lives and dreams are so close, entwined within our race that we see glimpses of our friends and families futures.”

  Gwenyth understood from stories she had heard as a child how the Faer could predict each other’s futures.

  She remembered wondering at the time how she might react if she was told her life would unfold, outside of her control; no matter what she did being able to alter the prediction.

  And now she sensed that the Queen had exactly this sight of her path ahead and she shivered.

  “Never before have any of the Folk had a vision of an outsider’s future,” confirmed the Queen, “but last night I saw your face on a baby with the great one watching over it.... It was shifted, somehow, as if instead of the future I was seeing the past.”

  She paused for a moment.

  “We have memories of the past Gwenyth but this was not one of them, because none of the Folk were there to see it. What I saw was
your past. You are not of this land Gwenyth. You were brought here by Olumé, but there was another there. She was hidden from me but I could feel her as a mirror of you.”

  Gwenyth reeled in shock. A suggestion placed within her years ago was crying for release. But the overawing feeling was one of hope, hope that had been imparted upon her by the gentle touch of another.

  “My daughter!” As she looked in shock at the Queen she received a nod of acquiescence. “How?”

  “Great things are happening around us Gwenyth,” waved the Queen as she turned around to look up at the gap in the canopy.

  “You have your task, my request for assistance from your people,” she said, “this you must promise to carry out.”

  Gwenyth nodded.

  “When you return, we shall explore who you are and where we should go,” said the Queen. “The Veil is breaking and the boundaries are merging together. Soon we shall return to the battle we thought we had escaped.”

  The Queen stared back in grim determination.

  “But first we must deal with the seed which has been planted here, because it is also not of the land. You were put here to help us, Gwenyth, for none of us here are equipped with your power, and if I can help you awaken your life...you can save us all.”

  Epilogue

  Belfast–the apartment

  Katheryne lay in her bed alone, as she had done for over a week since their return from Sanctuary.

  She knew there were other people around here somewhere, others who cared deeply for her just outside the door, if she would just gather the strength to accept them in.

  And she knew at some level within herself she was hurting them terribly by the simple act of not letting them help her.

  But above all other thought was what she had done. The heinous crime she had willingly carried out.

  She had arrived back on the island, the timeline intact, and Derren, along with the others had been completely oblivious to what had occurred. Everyone was as she had left them, because the realities had not been altered.