Broken Soul (The Scholar's Legacy Book 1)

by Joshua Buller

escape from cold translucent nights and hollow pallid days

  Yet even as your breath escapes and captivates the air

  The only thing I notice is the passion in your stare

  And oh! To watch a raven fly

  without a place to land

  all I can do is try

  to catch her in my hand

  Along a stretch of golden sand aside a shallow shore

  Or to a kingdom tall and proud we've never seen before

  No matter where, you're dancing, twirling, all the world's a game

  But dazzling sights just can't compare to when you call my name

  And oh! To watch a raven fly

  without a place to land

  all I can do is try

  to catch her in my hand

  A thousand miles you've dared to roam

  Yet there's still no place you call home

  With fingers clasped in prayer I ask

  to lift your eyes, remove your mask

  Then maybe you'll come to rest at last

  And oh! To watch a raven fly

  without a place to land

  all I can do is try

  to catch her in my hand

  And oh! I've borne each restless night

  for what tomorrow brings-

  The hope its morning light

  may finally stay your wings

  As the final notes slowly ebbed away, the room was left in numb shock. The gypsies looked at one another, none of them sure how to react. Hawke gingerly gave the guitar back to its owner, who wore an unreadable expression as he hurried out into the night. Just when I thought he had struck them all speechless, a torrent of different reactions came pouring in.

  “BAHAHAHA! I never struck you as a hopeless romantic, Hawke!” roared Chestnut at the top of her lungs. She looked to a few of her nearby friends for backup, but several were blushing furiously and fidgeting as they looked at the ground.

  “Hey, Hawke, you need to teach me that ditty,” Edge whispered as he leaned in close. “There's this little cutie in Val'Hala I've been sorta talking to that would flip for it. Oh, she's a blonde, though, you think it'd matter?”

  All around us they were either laughing or looking with amazement at my friend. Mirth actually wiped a tear from his eye and clapped Hawke on the shoulder.

  “Thank you for that,” he said in a husky tone. “It's good to know that Rouge was loved so.”

  Hawke had turned almost purple from the flush creeping up his face, but he shrugged and laughed. “Truth be told, I always thought it was a silly song. I just sort of made it up one day while we were lolling around and bored. She was crazy for it, though, so I sung it all the time. As goofy as it was to me, it was worth playing a thousand times over for how it made her smile.”

  “No better reason needed, child,” Mirth said with an approving nod.

  As the gypsies started to mill about again and business went back to usual, Hawke turned to me. I thought he was going to ask how I liked the song, but something else was bothering him.

  “I hope you don't mind heading out tomorrow,” he said. “I just feel like I've done what I can here and am ready to finally finish what we started. Are you okay with that?” I nodded vigorously.

  “Whenever you're ready, I am!” I exclaimed. He ruffled my hair and smiled.

  “Great! We should get some shuteye then. We can head out right after breakfast.” He stood and started to leave but halted mid-step.

  “Oh, one last thing.” Hawke turned and leaned in close, staring me straight in the eyes with a lifeless look that sent my spine tingling.

  “If I hear again that you're using your power to steal from people, you will be punished. Is that clear, young lady?” he hissed. I was barely able to nod.

  “Y-yessir.”

  * * *

  It was hard to believe we had spent almost half a month with the gypsy band, and yet as we finished loading our bags onto Sir Brown Horse and saddled up again for the first time in weeks, I felt like I wouldn't have minded staying just a bit longer. Not a person was missing from the crowd as all the gypsies came to bade us farewell and best wishes on our journey. Mirth approached and clasped hands with Hawke.

  “Will you be staying much longer?” asked Hawke. “When all this is finally done, I'd be glad to come stay for a while longer. I'm sure Micasa would, too,” he added.

  “Yesyesyesyesyes,” I chimed in. Mirth howled with laughter.

  “And we'd be delighted to have you again, but we'll be picking up roots and heading out soon. We stayed here to fulfil our obligation to you, and now it's time we get back to our ways. Gypsies weren't meant to lay down for so long.” Hawke gave a small appreciative bow.

  “Of course. Here's hoping our paths cross again soon,” he bade Mirth, clasping hands one more time. Shouts of goodbye rained on us from the troupe, and I waved at all of them as I returned their farewells. With a last glance over his shoulder, Hawke nudged Sir Brown Horse to a canter and led us onto the main road. Their cries seemed to follow us even long after they had vanished from sight.

  “I really want to see them again,” I told Hawke, “and Blake, and the Medicine Man, and Winter, and Char. I really hope we can see them soon.” Hawke's sights were firmly fixed on the road ahead.

  “I do too,” he said, “but first, I have one last piece of unfinished business.”

  Chapter 20: The Dead Man

  Damkarei.

  After hundreds of miles of journeying through seemingly endless expanses of fields and mountains and forests, to behold a place where the land itself stopped stole my breath away. The city looked much as the others we had been through did, but I couldn't tear my eyes from the ribbon of sparkling blue glittering in the sunlight, stretching completely across the horizon. Somehow, its mere presence bolstered the town into something unto a dream: the City of Two Kings.

  “I forgot, this is probably the first time you've seen the ocean, isn't it?” Hawke asked. I sighed in awe.

  “It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen,” I whispered. I didn't want to ruin the moment by making too much noise. I would have gladly stared at it for hours, but Hawke tapped me on the shoulder.

  “When we're done, we can go right down to the beach, how about that?” he offered. I twisted in my seat to look at him with my most pleading expression.

  “Yes, please!” I cried to his amusement.

  “Okay, okay, it's a promise. Hopefully, things won't go too roughly.” The humor vanished from his face. “Nothing is ever simple with Uraj, though.”

  “You don't think he'll give your essence back?” I asked him.

  “Hard to say. The Uraj I used to know would have never gone along with something like this. Rouge wasn't there to answer my questions, and she didn't tell her troupe anything about this whole mess, but I know Uraj knows what's going on. And I'm not leaving until I find out.”

  The land gently sloped downward as we approached the seaside city, the aroma of salt spray lingering in the air. High above us, white gulls circled lazily overhead and screeched to one another. A few followed our progress down the road, perhaps smelling our food and hoping for something to scrounge. The late morning sun reflected off the sea, the two fiery orbs casting a white glare over everything for miles.

  I was still enjoying the splendor of our destination when my body lurched forward. It felt as if someone had placed a sack of bricks on top of me, my body growing so heavy that I couldn't even straighten myself. A low rumble filled my ears as the pressure built. Sir Brown Horse shrieked in terror as his knees buckled, nearly toppling him over.

  Hawke swore loudly. As quickly as it had come, the feeling subsided. I gasped like I had been submerged and just allowed to come up for air. Hawke's breathing sharpened too, but it was his face, now contorted in anger, that had changed the most.

  “What was that!?” I said, still struggling to catch my breath.

  “Uraj, of course,” Hawke growled, placing a hand on my shoulder protectively. “Sorry, Micasa
, I should have expected this.”

  “But what did he do!?” I looked around but could see no signs of anyone else near us. If Uraj was hiding, I thought, he was good.

  “He's not here,” Hawke explained when he saw me frantically searching the area. “It's a trick you can do with your essence. Basically, you surround yourself with it, and you can tell when something enters or moves inside the area. For people who can't use their essence to protect themselves, it feels like a terrible pressure surrounding you. Uraj himself is likely there–” He pointed past me towards a jagged shape that dwarfed the other buildings of the town, “–our old castle. He always did have a fondness for it, even as it crumbled around us.”

  It looked to be another mile at least before we even reached the edge of the city proper. It made me shudder to think, how strong was Uraj if he could reach this far with his essence?

  “At least he didn't keep it up,” I said, trying to think positively. Hawke laughed dryly.

  “Oh no, he's still scrying. I've just put an aura around us like a bubble, so you and the horse won't feel its effects. Thing is, he knows I'm here now; he's definitely already sensed my essence. Surprise won't be an option anymore.”

  The town itself was larger than I had assumed from a distance, at least rivaling Val'Hala in size. The biggest difference between the two, aside from the lack of walls guarding Damkarei, was the assortment of people milling about the streets as we rode in without incident.

  Right away it was clear that something was wrong. Despite the number of citizens we saw going on with their business, it was eerily quiet. There were no idle conversations being held, vendors and customers did business with curt hand gestures and broke away as soon as they could. Even the occasional barking dog or screaming child I had heard time and again in other towns was nowhere to be found here. I turned to Hawke, only to see he had pulled the hood of his cloak over his features and kept his head held low. He held a finger to his lips, telling me to hold my tongue for the moment.

  Hawke rode straight to an inn and paid for a room and stabling for Sir Brown Horse. The entire transaction consisted of nothing more than a handful of coins shoved into the innkeep's hands and a terse nod. Once our things were loaded into a room and locked, we spent some time trying to placate our steed now that it would have no shield from Uraj's presence. When at last we calmed him enough to hopefully leave him be for a while, we set to the streets on foot.

  I expected Hawke to head straight to the castle, but instead he led me inside a small tavern situated down a secluded alleyway. The room was nearly empty, save for a lone patron drinking alone at the bar and the proprietor leaning against a banister with a foul mood etched in his features.

  Hawke bade me to sit at a booth in the far corner while he approached the barkeep and started talking to him in whispers. I had barely situated myself at the table when Hawke returned, still not speaking. Shortly after, the barkeep returned with a mug for Hawke and a small glass of milk for me. He nearly slammed the containers down before spinning around wordlessly and returning to his favorite brooding spot.

  “Keep your voice down as much as possible,” he murmured out of the corner of his mouth. “We don't want to arouse too much suspicion.”

  “What would they be suspicious of?” I whispered back. Hawke gestured with his head towards the door.

  “You saw how everyone was acting. They can feel Uraj's essence too. Imagine having to go around feeling that pressure on you for long periods of time. All of Damkarei is on edge, and seeing me might set them off.”

  “Seeing you?”

  “The city knows who I am, Micasa,” he pointed out. “All they think is that Uraj is angry right now and is taking it out on them. They've probably heard he's looking for me, and if they realize I'm here, it might start a riot. It's best to just take care of this as subtly as possible.”

  “So why are we here?” I asked.

  Hawke sighed. “I was hoping to get some information about what Uraj has been up to these past several years. The barrister here I've long known to keep his ear to the ground, and I'd hoped he could tell me something I could use. I just learned now how strained the situation is.”

  As he was talking, what looked like a child entered the bar and glanced around. He was greeting the barkeep when his eyes landed on us. Without hesitation, he marched over and took a seat next to Hawke, to my friend's astonishment. It was only now that I remembered having seen him before.

  “Samuel,” Hawke put voice to my thoughts, “I had forgotten you were working for my old colleague.”

  The diminutive man looked between us with all the passivity he had shown in our first meeting. “Uraj has requested me to come escort the both of you to the castle. He informed me I would find you here,” he explained.

  “The both of us? Micasa too?” Hawke looked shocked.

  “He was very clear that the girl was to accompany you,” said Samuel. My friend shook his head.

  “I don't like this. Micasa won't be safe there. She has to stay behind,” he protested. I had assumed I was going with him regardless, and was going to argue his decision, but our guide spoke up first.

  “Uraj also asked me to tell you that if she didn't come, he would make things worse for the townsfolk.” At this, Hawke bit his lip. A growl rumbled in his throat, and a moment later he threw his arms up in defeat.

  “Fine,” he hissed, then adding, “Micasa, don't leave my side for a second.” I nodded, not interested in the least to experience that pressure from before. Samuel stood and walked to the door, waiting while Hawke and I quickly finished our drinks and rose. Without so much as a glance spared between the three of us, we were out the door and on the winding road leading towards the far edge of town.

  A large stone bridge spanned a considerable moat that surrounded our destination. The trench below our feet seemed to feed directly from the ocean, and in the receding waters of low tide, a carpet of sharp barbs peeked out from the bottom. A few strands of seaweed and the occasional unlucky sea creature could be seen clinging to them.

  The castle itself looked as if it had once been a grand edifice that had reached towards the sky during days long forgotten. A few towers still yawned upward, casting deep shadows in the waning daylight. The outer courtyard, full of weeds and overgrowth, was littered with crumbling statues and fragments of the curtain wall that had cracked off over who knows how many years.

  Samuel led us through the ruins, past rotted wooden stables and what may have once been a chapel to the Holy Tenet, to the castle proper. He stopped next to a pair of heavy iron doors and crossed his arms.

  “In here,” the disciple said, not meeting our eyes. “I go no further.”

  Hawke snorted impatiently. “The audience room. Of course he would make a show of all this.” He yanked on the handle, and the heavy gate groaned open with reluctance. Taking me by the hand, he took one last breath of the outside air and led me over the threshold.

  The corridor was dark as night, the slip of light from the door like the moon trying to cut through the clouds. Once we started inside, even that disappeared and we were left sightless. I could hear Hawke scrabbling along the walls, and a few seconds later a torch flared to life in his hand, blinding me momentarily. When the spots cleared away, I could just make out the dusty stone walls and floor, with dozens of unlit torches sitting idly in their sconces.

  We had only ventured a scant few yards further into the long hallway when a great whooshing sound filled the air. All at once the dormant torches sprung to life, their flames leaving our passage awash in an orange glow. Hawke sneered and tossed the light he had been holding to the ground.

  “He's playing with us,” he said slowly. Maybe it was my imagination, but the torch fires seemed to flicker up and down. His hand found mine again, his grip tightening uncomfortably as we made our way towards the blackened square at the end of the hallway.

  Even with all the light pouring into our path, the chamber we stepped into was a blanket of
shadow smothering our eyes. Hawke held me back with a hand, bidding we should continue no further into the room. Somewhere in the inky depths came a hissing sound, and again the darkness was banished from a multitude of fires roaring into existence.

  The room was vast enough to hold a hundred people comfortably, carpeted in moldy rugs that had forgotten what color they were long ago. Aside from the half-dozen large braziers that illuminated the room with their crackling flames, the only furnishings were a pair of chairs hewn from granite standing atop a single large step. The throne on the right was smashed to pieces, its remains scattered about the base as if it had just been destroyed and nobody could be bothered to clean it up.

  The second throne was clearly occupied.

  It looked like someone had laid a suit of mottled grey armor into the chair and arranged it to resemble a person sitting in it. As we cautiously crept closer, though, it was clear that something was nestled inside. A mop of stringy white hair poked out of a dark shape just visible from the armor's collar, and as I peered to make out its owner I nearly shrieked in fright.

  The face that gazed at us was almost identical to the ghoul that had accosted me on the old plantation. Leathery flesh stretched across its skull, its mouth devoid of teeth and perpetually hanging open.

  It was the eyes staring at us now, piercing silver, that drew the only difference between this creature and the lifeless being from days past. This was something that should have died long ago, yet the spark behind those eyes said that it wasn't ready to see the other side. The curious hiss from before escaped from its leathery lips, and now I could barely make out the words.

  “Hawke, you're looking well.” it spoke, its mouth barely moving as the words slurred out.

  “I've heard that more than once on the way here,” Hawke said. His words were sharp, but there was no mirth in his features, no warmth to his tone.

  “I thought you'd never make it here.”

  “How could I not? I can feel the pull coming from you even now. You have it,” he accused.