The Children of the Light: Book 1: Spirit Summoner

by Matt Campbell

  “Well, isn’t there something you can do with your magic?” Conra suggested, his grizzled brow lifting in anticipation.

  “No, there’s going to be too many Seekers. Nidic Waq said it wouldn’t be wise in any case, and this time there will be a lot more than the three we fought in the Triker.”

  “Yeah, but this city is filled with Summoners,” Conra said followed by a snort. “You’d think the lot of you could come up with something.”

  “Maybe, but none of these Summoners know how to control the magic. They don’t even know how to reach the Currents...” Darr’s voice trailed off and his brown eyes grew distant.

  Several moments passed and Darr didn’t move. Finally, Conra broke the silence. “What’s the matter with you, Boy?”

  The Summoner flinched, and his eyes shot to Jinn, burning with fascination. “We have to go see Feywen,” Darr said. Without another word, he took off running in the direction of the wall.

  Jinn watched after him and attempted to make sense of his actions. Conra looked to be doing the same. They wouldn’t be able to figure it out by standing around.

  She gave Conra a shrug and dashed towards the gardens after her brother.

  Chapter Thirty

  “For many generations, the Divine spread the teachings of Caeranol throughout Ictar, and the covenant remained safe. The Aeon Wars, like everything else, changed even the ranks of the Divine. Many Divine turned from the roots of their founding and sought ways to twist their knowledge into power. The Divine sided with the monarchies rising up across the land, and together, they ended the Aeon Wars.”

  ~From A Current History of Ictar, as told by Nidic Waq

  At sunset, Darr walked to Navda’s wall with Jinn and Erec at his side. He walked in silence, content with his siblings’ company. Around them, the city stood rigid in anticipation of what was coming. Some believed Ogre raiders approached, while others knew it was the Seekers coming for them. None of them would be prepared. The soldiers were too unprepared to hold the walls all night, and the citizens taking refuge within their homes didn’t possess the bravery to take the place of their defenders. Feywen hoped for the best, but he wasn’t optimistic the walls would hold.

  Of course, Darr had a plan in case they didn’t.

  “Look,” Erec said at his shoulder. His brother pointed beyond the city wall. “Do you see?”

  Where the sun set in the west, a great gray cloud rose up against the glare of the sun. The Seeker mists. Having appeared a few hours ago, the mists were rising and growing to enfold the hills below the city, a great massing wall prepared to swallow it whole. The sight was unsettling, and Darr hoped the townspeople didn’t see it.

  At the edge of the gardens, the level of activity increased from a buzzing of people to a swarm. Feywen and Lacdur led the more experienced soldiers, their position established outside the wall and on the low battlements. Reserve soldiers stood ready and at attention, prepared to march inside the city wall when required. Erec would stand with the reserves, his warrior instinct unquenchable. Darr and Jinn both tried to talk him out of going, but their brother wouldn’t hear it. Although untested, Erec had trained as a soldier. He would fight and no argument could change his mind.

  Erec stopped once they approached the front lines. He turned to his siblings and said, “This is where I leave you.”

  Conflicted, Darr watched his brother, studying him. He didn’t want his brother to fight, but at the same time, he didn’t wish to take away Erec’s warrior heart. His brother would fight as a brave and fierce warrior, the same way Darr would fight with his Summoners.

  “Keep yourself safe,” Jinn whispered.

  She moved forward and embraced him. Erec hugged her back and smiled, the first genuinely happy emotion he’d displayed in weeks. Jinn released her grasp and took a step back. Erec extended his hand out to Darr. The Summoner took his arm and pulled Erec close.

  “I don’t want you to do this,” Darr said.

  Erec shook his head. “Enough of this. We’ve been over it already. I’m fighting because it’s the only thing I’m good at, and because I don’t think anyone else can do the job of protecting you two better than I can.”

  Darr nodded his head, not in understanding, but because he didn’t know what else to do. “I wish there was another way. You could protect us from back here, in the city.”

  “If I fight up towards the front, you might not need any protecting in the city. Perhaps I can take down every one of the Seekers that comes over that wall.” Erec smiled and his face lit up. “You just worry about yourself and Jinn. Be ready to work your plan if the Seekers get too close. And if that fails, you run.”

  Feywen and Lacdur would do everything in their power to hold the wall, but if the Soul Seekers broke into the gardens, the people within the city would be ordered to evacuate through the tunnels. If the soldiers couldn’t stop them in the gardens, Darr would initiate his plan as a final defense. If that failed, fate would decide what happened next.

  Erec fastened the buckles of the thick leather plate he wore and checked the short sword at his side. He acted nervous, but Darr believed it came more from his inexperience, rather than fear. Erec wasn’t the least bit afraid, and that single fact was more upsetting than any other. His brother should be terrified.

  “Well, this is it.” Erec let loose a quick breath. “You two look after each other. I don’t want to have to come running if you get separated.” He gave a perfunctory nod, rigid and tight like Darr would expect from a soldier, and turned to find his place.

  Darr and Jinn stood for a time at the edge of Cerian Gardens, watching the daylight leak away over the heads of the troops. Within a few minutes, the unit commanders gave their signals, and in single columns of four across, they moved to the wall. Darr tried to pick out Erec among them, but he failed. He wished his brother safe.

  “Should we head back?” Jinn asked in a soft voice, her eyes still focused on the looming mists.

  Darr nodded. “The Aratan Fereta and Vanheila will be waiting for me,” he said. “They want me to explain to the other Summoners what to do.”

  Jinn looked up at him, her concern evident in her face. “Are you sure you’ll be able to do this? After what happened with the scattercrab, don’t you think this is risky?’

  She was right, but Darr shook his head. “We have to try something, and this seems like the best plan. If I’m careful and check the Currents beforehand, I don’t see what could go wrong.”

  Jinn didn’t look convinced, but she said nothing more. Darr watched her, trying to figure out her doubts, but he didn’t want to pry. Instead, he turned and walked back to the city with his sister at his side.

  * * * *

  At the edges of Cerian Gardens, Darr stood with Aratan Vanheila and watched the city walls. Behind them, Aratan Fereta and his Summoners stood motionless and silent. Though distant, Darr could hear Feywen Dery’s voice in the night, his words booming. He wanted to see what happened outside those walls.

  Carefully, Darr put his ears to the Currents, reaching out across the ether to Feywen. Brief flashes of memory and emotion were all he could detect. He felt Feywen’s camaraderie with Lacdur. Fear and excitement came in waves, rising and falling. Above all else, the looming blackness of the Seeker mists bore down on Feywen’s Light, and Darr shuttered in response.

  “They’re very close now,” Vanheila whispered at his shoulder.

  Darr pulled himself away from the Currents and nodded in agreement. Although younger than the other Aratans and most of the other Summoners in Navda, Vanheila possessed a strong connection to the Currents. The Elf could almost pull himself into the spirit realm, though something held him back. Perhaps his fear, or perhaps other forces were at work preventing him from doing so, but his skill was impressive.

  Cold settled into Darr’s stomach as the mists rose and fell outside the walls, heaving and shrinking, inhaling and exhaling. Since nightfall, the cold had grown stronger. It was only a matter of time before th
e Seeker’s emerged.

  “Such fear,” Vanheila whispered at Darr’s side. He didn’t have to ask for clarification.

  Even though Aratan Vanheila was unable to reach into the Currents by himself, he was adept at reading them. The fear he spoke of was the same fear Darr sensed, endless waves radiating outward from the soldiers gathered before them. The threat of the Soul Seekers, whether you believed in them or not, was very real.

  “They will be strong,” Darr said softly, firmly. “They will be strong, because they have to be.”

  Erec was among the soldiers, and he was an outsider to the people of Navda. If even half of the soldiers gathered were as strong as Erec, the Seekers would have a hard time getting to the city.

  Vanheila stiffened his frame. “They’re here,” he said so soft Darr could barely detect the words.

  The cold was now so intense, so numbing and silent, there was no doubt the Seekers had broken through the mists. Cries echoed from atop the walls and from without, but the Seekers themselves made no noise, like a light breeze rushing the city.

  A hail of arrows, blazing orange, flew up into the night. They arched across the sky and then fell, exploding into an angry glare above the heights of the wall.

  Darr’s heart solidifed against his fear. He could show no weakness in the Currents. If he were to succeed, he must be strong, not only for himself, but for the Summoners he would lead into battle. Their summoning would save them all. But at what cost?

  Whether they lived or died this night, Ictar would be forever changed.

  * * * *

  An orange glare rose against the black of the Seeker mists. The cold breath of fear blowing against Darr lessened. As the fires died away, the shouts of the men outside the walls came infrequently, but not frantic. Smoke rose into the night, blacker than the Seeker mists, reflecting back the red light of the embers below. Victory, it seemed, was close.

  Darr’s hope fell away when the cold returned, vengeful and piercing. Somehow, the Soul Seekers had found a way past the dying fires. Cries of pain rose into the blackness. More fiery arrows rained down from atop the city walls, but the cries increased in frequency. They became frenzied.

  Darr let his mind slip ever into the Currents. All he could detect were flashes of memory and emotion, so potent and clear one moment and gone the next. The fear was overwhelming. Had Darr not prepared himself, the emotions of the soldiers fighting before him would’ve swept him away.

  Darr took a moment and refocused his efforts. He closed away his emotions this time and listened to the Currents without getting too close. He let the voices of the spirits come to him, their words giving him small images of the battle unfolding around him.

  Men he didn’t know flashed before his eyes, some covered in ash, others in blood. Many lay dead. Darr turned his attention to the wall, hoping to find good news there. He let the spirits take him there.

  The spirits whispered words gave life to the thoughts in Darr’s mind. He saw a flash of Aratan Bolgros with his sword lifted high. He thought he heard Lacdur’s booming voice. The flash of a silver sword might’ve been Feywen. The Seekers were on the wall, but again, the images were too fragmented and chaotic to be of use. Nothing he’d seen told him if they were losing this battle or not.

  “What are you doing?” Aratan Vanheila asked. The Elf looked worried.

  Darr shook his head. “I’m trying to see what’s happening out there.”

  “How?” Vanheila asked, arching his already slanted brow.

  “I don’t want to risk going into the Currents, not yet anyways,” Darr replied. He returned his gaze to the battle. “I want to be prepared, so I’m listening in on the Currents and trying to find something of use.”

  Aratan Vanheila leaned closer. “And have you found anything?”

  Darr said nothing. While listening to the Currents, a single Light shone through. The Light may have been lost or captured, but for the briefest moment, Darr touched it, connected with it, and its memories exploded in his mind.

  He looked down from the walls of Navda as if he were actually there. His heart stopped pumping. His bones turned to ice.

  A wave of darkness spilled soundlessly across the fields below, glittering with the silver claws of Soul Seekers. No sound emanated from the mass, not the beat of a drum or the thud of booted feet, or the clang of armor. Terror, pure and silent, washed over him.

  The Seekers scaled the walls with silver claws digging deep into the stone. They shredded the solid oak of the gate below. They slaughtered and they killed so many in that brief moment, Darr lost count.

  A wash of black spilled across his eyes, followed by the glitter of claws. The Light snuffed away, and with it, the final memories it bore vanished as well.

  Darr swallowed but his throat felt too dry. “I saw the Seekers,” he rasped. “I don’t think there’s anything we can do but wait.”

  Aratan Vanheila didn’t respond with words, he only nodded his head. On the city walls, the glitter of the Soul Seekers’ claws danced in furious motion.

  * * * *

  The way the soldier ran towards him instinctively told Darr what the message was he brought. The man’s fear and panic rang across the Currents. The time had come. Darr didn’t wait to hear the message. He raised his arm, a signal to the other Summoners.

  In a soundless rush, he sank into the Currents...

  ...The spirit realm was as chaotic as he expected. The spirits flew around in a flurry of discontent, their fragile forms raking through the wisteria light like mad bees. The soldiers who fought the Seekers were a mass of sparkling white roiling with rage and desperation. The Soul Seekers were there, a scattering of white also, but the feelings they projected were numb. Darr guarded his Light, protecting himself in the strength of his convictions and his courage. He wouldn’t be turned away.

  He did as Nidic Waq and Racall had taught him, checking the lines of power between the Sephirs. He wouldn’t allow himself to repeat past mistakes. He took his time and examined the balance between the Four Elements, checking for frays that might cause him trouble. Satisfied that all was as good as it could be, he set to work.

  Darr reached out and touched the Summoners who were gathered around him, their own Lights reaching to him from the physical world. He envisioned a net, a gathering of each of their Lights. Swiftly, he pulled them into the Currents. Confusion ran rampant through them, but Darr turned his thoughts to attention and focus. Already, he could sense a few had been left behind, their minds incapable of breaching the gap between the spirit realm and the physical, but he couldn’t go back for them.

  --Be strong--

  Darr spoke to them with his thoughts, forcing his Summoners to listen.

  --Ignore what you see around you--Focus only on me--

  Darr waited while their concentration refocused. The net he wrapped around them wouldn’t let them stray, but he didn’t think it would make them follow either. They would have to do it on their own.

  --Follow me--Don’t turn away--

  Darr’s thoughts settled on the Sephir of Fire, the pulsing red light in the distance of the Currents. He willed his own Light towards the Sephir with slow and precise thoughts, giving time for his fellow Summoners to do the same. The mass intrusion of so many Summoners caused unease with the spirits, but Darr ignored them. He had to press forward.

  Once he had the attention of his peers, Darr sent his Light soaring to the Fire Sephir. Some of the Summoners lost contact and drifted back into the physical world. Those who could follow, latched onto him intently.

  The glare of the Fire Sephir exploded before them, its Light shinning brilliant crimson.

  --Archon of Fire--

  In response to his thoughts, a sensation of discontent radiated out of the Sephir.

  --Archon of Fire, I implore you to listen--

  Anger erupted through the Currents as the Archon of Fire emerged. Darr solidified his resolve, ignoring the spirit creature’s emotions.

  --Why have you
come here-- The Archon asked.

  --I come seeking help-- Darr answered. --Please lend to me, and those with me, your power and wisdom--

  --They do not belong here--They are not prepared--

  Darr galvanized himself against his fear, making his commitment as hard as iron --I’ve done all I can for them--We need your help--

  The Archon scoffed at him, a strange repetition of Darr’s thoughts. --You need more than my help--You are lost in this endeavor--What you ask is impossible--

  Rage burned inside the Archon. It wasn’t happy with what he was trying to do.

  --Why won’t you help me-- Darr pleaded.

  --To spread my power among so many is impossible--

  --Then lend it to me alone--

  --You are not prepared for the power you ask for--It will destroy you--It will destroy us all--

  In frustration, Darr projected his emotions and memories into the Archon, letting his desperation and motives drive his thoughts forward, but the Archon didn’t listen. If anything, she resisted and retreated back down within the Light of the Sephir.

  What do I do? Darr thought. What more can I ask?

  A cold seeped into Darr from somewhere in the Currents, followed by a cry so piercing its memories cut through him. He saw a village like Tyfor, and a family resembling his own. He felt frustration and rage, but also sadness and longing to return to a home, a house...and an old man...

  A Light drained away, and a life excruciatingly important to him was lost to the Devoid.

  Erec’s memories?

  Those had been Erec’s memories!

  Power born of rage and sadness welled up within the Summoner. His soul hardened and congealed until nothing could reach him. What once had been fear and distress turned numb. Darr’s thoughts focused tight, before exploding into the Sephir before him.