Original Souls (A World Apart #1)

by Kyle Thomas Miller

  Even Lindle was fed up and just wanted to move on. He couldn't believe how much grownups changed over time. He could tell that Cade wasn't very old. No more than thirty-five-years old, and yet he seemed to have completely lost touch with what it’s like to be a kid.

  "All right then," Cade embarrassingly turned to the side, "I want you to grasp a very simple idea. Very simple. It is that; hope is not real. It is not based in reality, it has no finite point. I bid you not to believe in what you hope, like so many do. I would prefer that you act on what you know. It will carry you farther in all of this, because fate cannot be broken or reformed, unlike your friend Corinth is destined to believe."

  "Well, if Corinth believes in it then so do I! His hope—will be my belief system!" said Anvard firmly.

  "Ha!" Cade huffed with a laugh. "Didn't you say something similar about that boy from my home World?" Cade could barely contain the rupture of giggles spilling out from him. "Yes, I believe you did. You said that; 'his trust, is your confidence.' Pretty words from the pretty boy of Lirio." He looked at Anvard disdainfully. Cade didn't care that Andy liked boys, he just didn't like Andy. A sensitive athlete with the looks of an Adonis. Cade didn't live out a childhood of grandeur, as does Anvard. He reveled in knocking the boy down a few pegs. "May I ask you, Anvard, did you say that phrase before or after he betrayed you? Ha-ha-ha!" He laughed, but Anvard was over the whole thing. He didn't have time to care about his former Levantarse coach's jokes. The coach they secretly called; Señor Fancy-pants, because he wasn't nearly as rugged as the athletes he trained. He was over it all, he just wanted to find Corinth.

  "If that's all, we'll be going." Anvard turned and walked in the opposite direction down the narrow hall tightly pressed up against the rocky walls.

  "Please, do go," Cade said evenly. "Help your boyfriend, if you still can."

  "Wait, we need to know where we are," Lindle insisted.

  Anvard turned back. "Don't bother, Curly. He's not really trying to help us."

  "Marry, marry, oh how contrary!" he rhymed like a jester. "My primary goal for this evening is to ensure your success. That's why I’ve salvaged this from that soaking wet knapsack of yours, Lindelle."

  "Yeah it's, LINDLE."

  "I honestly don't care very much, boy," Cade admitted coldly. "I heard your ministrant mention your scornful title upstairs."

  "Our teachers are here?" Anvard asked quickly.

  "One question at a time. That’s the rule." Cade's mischievous smiling face sent chills down both their spines. He looked dangerous in a playfully sadistic way.

  "You can answer the other question, if you like," Lindle said, because he was sure that the map Cade held up in his hand would tell them exactly where they were.

  "All right then, on your request ... Lindsey." He'd probably never get it right. "Your school ministrant, Sen. Lilith, I think that's what she goes by while at your school. Well, anyway, she's very far upstairs on the top level. Ready to perform the transfer between Andy's boyfriend and the Chancellor of Draconia."

  Anvard ran up to Cade, scarring the delicate man slightly. Instead of any funny business, he just grabbed the map from out of his hand. Then took off down the corridor in the opposite direction. Lindle followed behind closely, and then decided to turn back to a smirking Cade.

  "Thank you!" he hollered back. Cade waved them on encouragingly, and Anvard punched Lindle in the shoulder.

  "You don't thank your enemies!" Anvard yelled in a muffled tone.

  "But he helped us!" Lindle seemed upset by Anvard's punch. He rubbed his arm while they jogged away.

  "If you trust me even one bit, you'll believe me when I say that he's an enemy. No matter how much he pretends to help. He even admitted it himself. This isn't to help us, it's for his own benefit in the long run."

  "Okay." Lindle placed his trust in Anvard as best he could.

  <*>

  "Open it!!!" Sebastian had finally lost his cool. His patience for Corinth's defiant ways had been tested too long already.

  "Sebastian," Lilith called, "you mustn't wake the beast, as it were. The boy has built courage from the little obstacle course we designed for his way over here, but he's still a meager child."

  He turned his attention to Sen. Lilith, as Corinth knew her to be called. She was leaning inward to his ear and covering her mouth. She whispered, so that Corinth wouldn't be able to hear.

  "How good are you at blocking psychics?" he growled at her.

  "Well, I'm not nearly as trained as you but—"

  He didn't permit her to finish the sentence, putting his hand up to her face. "Exactly!"

  "Where's my uncle!?" Corinth shouted at the two of them.

  "Oh, he'll be in shortly, don't you worry, boy. But if you were to first open this window, I'd appreciate it more than you know." Corinth didn't bother to respond. Sebastian almost smacked him, but let the urge subside. "Go fetch the traitor, Camil!" He commanded her. She reluctantly trudged away in accordance with his will.

  Corinth already knew Sen. Lilith's real name. She tried to block him and thought she succeeded. However, there were fragments about herself and this situation that she just couldn't hide from his prying mind. She walked through the threshold into the second room. A wide expanding room that started just a few feet in front of the altar Corinth was strapped to. Crossing the room toward the left, she passed the window that Sebastian insisted he open.

  Even if he wanted to, Corinth had no idea how to open such a thing. It looked like it was carved out of the wall, but there was an actually frame around it, with so many other ungodly figurines mounted to the glass shard covered walls behind it. To Corinth, it looked more like a mirror. A portrait mirror, like the one at his mother's vanity table back at their house in Graysonville. What does -open even mean, regarding a mirror?

  When she reached the wood and metal door on the other end, that opened up along the same wall the window was mounted to, she knocked on it twice. She paused strangely in between knocks. Corinth figured it was an unnecessary code of some sort. The door opened slowly. From it emerged a Squadron goon wearing their well-known black jumpsuits. Behind him was a man in tattered clothes, with bruises all about his face, neck, and arms. Corinth was relieved to see his Uncle Evan alive. He thought that he was in bad shape from what happened during the Northern Coaster ride, but Evan appeared to have been through much worse. Another Squadron member behind Evan slammed the door hard as he too walked up into the large gray-blue rectangular room. Being in the second room, closer to the spiral staircase, Corinth had to squint as he surveyed his uncle’s decaying condition, far inside the larger room that housed the all-important window against the wall.

  Corinth couldn't understand what was going on. The altar he laid on was positioned under an intricately designed black threshold. It separated the larger room with the ancient artifact against the wall, from the smaller area where he saw Cade disappear down the twisting staircase a while ago. It was wide and irregular, the threshold. Everything around it was lined in shattered pieces of glass. In fact, all the walls too were covered with these mysterious shards. "Uncle Evan!" he shouted out abruptly and without restraint.

  "Hey, small stuff," he coughed out. He didn't look so good, still he cracked a disastrous smile for his nephew's sake that revealed a few missing teeth. "Listen, whatever they want ... just don't. Don't do it! It’s not worth it anymore." Sebastian motioned the guards over to Evan. "Especially that window, Cory, don't—" The second goon smashed the butt of his absorption gun into the back of Evan's head. He dropped to his knees and whimpered. "You coward! If my hands weren't bound, what then?" The black-eyed man didn't respond. He just stood there, looming over Evan like a good drugged up soldier. The El Muerte Vivo serum must have been ten times as strong in him for his eyes to be completely black, instead of shining in the initial madness most of its victim’s experience.

  Sebastian looked satisfied with the blow. He turned back to Corinth and started from the top. "Open the wind
ow, please?" he asked through his teeth.

  "No!" Corinth pretended as if he knew what they were referring to for leverage's sake.

  "We could just do the transfer now!" Camil spoke up again. Only this time, a lot louder. She too was beginning to lose her patience.

  "No, we can't. You weren't there the last time. Every time the Priest opened his mouth, the defenses would go up. We brought his father in… his uncle even. Nothing worked! The system within him must be very intuitive." Sebastian paced nervously. He honestly thought he could convince Corinth of opening the Creative Window with just words.

  "I thought you said you had no intentions on hurting me?" Corinth spoke out in the same tone that unsettled Walker back at his Villa. He sounded so in control. It chilled Sebastian to hear a kid be so forceful.

  "I lied. You miserable little fool! I'm going to guarantee you the distinct sensation of burning alive if you let that force field come up. I'll leave you and your uncle here. After I light this place on fire, that is!" He inched closer with every word. He was now right in Corinth's face.

  "I didn't know you could light a place on fire while it's under water," Corinth’s words surprised Camil, and certainly Sebastian. They thought they concealed their efforts mighty well. "Well, at least if you succeed in destroying an already shattered temple through flames, we'll have the perfect tagline to rename it with." The cynical nature of Corinth's tone took Evan by surprise more than any other in the room. He knew Corinth to be sweet and timid. Not boisterous and hard headed. "We can rename it, the Scorched Temple!" Corinth shouted in a restrictive tone, then went about laughing out loud, like a maniac, making the pale Sebastian flush red with maddening anger.

  "Don't push me, youngling. You don't know what suffering truly is, but I’d be more than happy to show you."

  "But what about the power?" Corinth inquired so strikingly. "Would you let it die with me? I think not. You treasure it more than I do. That is why you’ve worked so hard for it, isn't it? You must want it so badly—that it BURNS you up inside? So, I suppose me and my uncle aren’t the only ones who’ll be in flames tonight!" The new Corinth was relentless. Never missing an opportunity to insult.

  Sebastian turned away and began pacing again. Trying to swallow his pride and plot his next few tactics.

  "By the way!" Sebastian stopped with his hand on his chin. He wouldn't turn around to face Corinth, but his body language ensured him that he was all ears. "I haven't even begun to push you yet, old man, but I will." Corinth tried to imitate Sebastian's dreadful tone in his next sentence. "And do trust, you will be brought to your knees the same way you—"

  Corinth suddenly stopped speaking when he noticed the left side of his pants pocket blinking. He lost the strange feeling that lured him into behaving so ominously. He knew what was in his pocket. There was only one thing in there. The dog whistle Walker had given him weeks ago. He forgot to work it into the conversation with him at the Villa yesterday. He still had it in his school uniform pants when he woke up at the hospital, and apparently on this altar as well. He never saw it blink before, but there it was. He didn't know what to think, but he was glad it grabbed his attention, because he didn't like channeling that hard to face rage inside of him. It was overbearing to say the least

  They mostly ignored him once he stopped taunting them. However, Evan has been suspicious of everything going on around him after he broke free of the El Muerte Vivo serum back at the Pavilion. Left over traces of it in his system sometimes wigged him out. But he wouldn’t let it take over his mind again, though he ended up becoming a bit paranoid with the trimmers of withdraw settling in.

  "Here we go, child. If you don't open the Creative Window I'm going to destroy your uncle." Sebastian walked over to Evan, who was still on his knees, and he pulled out his wand.

  "Sebastian, be careful."

  "Silence yourself, Camil! If I want your opinion, trust that I will inquire first!" Sebastian appeared blindingly angry. "This is simple and pure. If you go into that little coma thing," he pointed his wand at the little defenseless boy. "I'll pop a quick Fiat Lux over his head, and he'll be gone—forever!"

  Corinth didn't know what to think. He didn't want to lose Evan. He thought that maybe if he gave them what they wanted, they'd let them all go. Including Anvard and Lindle. Wherever they are? "Will you let us go if I do it?"

  "No!!! Corinth, he's in the business of lying. He's a politician, this is what he does," Evan pleaded for Corinth to use better reason.

  "I've had more than enough of you, traitor! Perturbo!" Sebastian flicked his wand Evan's way, and a dim beam of gray and black static light came flashing out. Evan convulsed on the floor from the maddening spell after it smashed into his skin.

  "Why!" Corinth shouted with mounting tears in his brightly glowing turquoise eyes. "Why would you do that? I'm trying to make a deal with you!"

  "Yes, you are. And this little spectacle," he pointed to Evan rolling around on the floor in a craze, "is just one of my many bargaining tools." Sebastian's cold eyes made Corinth feel small and alone. He just wanted it all to end.

  "Okay, I give up. Please, just let all my friends go. I promise I'll cooperate with anything you say once they're gone.”

  "Sounds like a sweet offer, but I have another suggestion.” Sebastian hysterically walked back toward Corinth. "Open—The—Creative—Window… now!"

  "I don't know how!" Corinth screeched so loud that Sebastian cringed. The sound was overtly piercing. It continued to echo throughout the entire corridor being carried far away, down the stairs and everywhere else in the Shattered Temple.

  "Hum, you do bluff very well then. I believed you this entire time, child." The Chancellor turned to the window mounted to the wall in the other room. "Just focus on the detail of the image there," he demanded of Corinth, pointing up to the mirror with his wand. It was rather far away from Corinth's altar. He had to squint to see, getting a better focus on it. "This is the Creative Window. It reflects anything and everything you can imagine. It’s been closed for just over a millennium. Did you know that, Drake, the first soul of Draconia, used this very portal to craft our home World, Corinth?" Now that he felt firmly in control, his demeanor changed dramatically. He almost seemed human to Corinth. "Just focus on it hard. Imagine it opening just like a normal window does. I'm sure your abilities will do the rest. After that, we will release your friends and initiate the transfer. It isn't nearly as frightening as it sounds. I simply want the power you posses, not you in any capacity."

  "What will you do with the window once it’s open?"

  "It's most likely best that you don't know the answer to that question," Sebastian retorted with pride.

  "How do I know my friends will be safe once they leave?"

  "Trust, none of us are safe anymore." Sebastian could sense that he was losing the boy's confidence. "Look, child, the window will simply act as a portal to another dimension. No big whoop.”

  "But why, and to where?"

  Sebastian couldn't handle the continuous questions anymore. Sena. Hendrix had remarked on Corinth's constant need to question things, but Sebastian didn't have the nearest shred of patience to be able to indulge the boy the way she did. So, he let down his guard and just went for it. "I'll level with you, boy. Aurora Boreal is a symbol to all the Worlds. It is a light to which many aspire. They want to be a part of the coming together of long differing cultures. Reuniting our ancestries. However, that cannot take place. The shields that protect the institution are much like the aura rays of your cocoon. They are virtually indestructible. But from within the source, they are easily shut off. We can't shut down the Aurora Boreal force field without breaking the spirit of this institution. The magik at work here is rather intricately woven into the heart of one of the Great Eight. Though true ... we can bring inside something that can overwhelm and destroy everything. Thus breaking the spirit."

  Corinth shuddered as Sebastian sat down on the altar next to him. He could smell the man, they were so clo
se now. He smelled like mothballs and peppermint. Two things that reminded Corinth of his grandfather, Conrad. Sebastian and he were old friends before he passed away. Maybe they used the same old man cologne, or something.

  "Now, that may be hard for you to hear, but I am going to be taking all the eight Worlds under my wing very soon. I need them to be obedient and submissive. Something Hyperborean doesn't understand. No one who submits will be harmed. After all, I do need someone to rule over. Now do your part, young man. Unlock this window, please."

  His honesty caught Corinth off guard. "How'd you get in the first time?" he couldn't help but ask.

  "With Camil's help, of course. She granted Squadron access." Sebastian could sense the nature of Corinth's new line of questioning. Why don't you just do what you did last time? That was most likely the next inquiry to come from Cory. Sebastian had a simple explanation lined up for that question. "But ... what I want to bring in this time isn't coming from our Worlds," he told the bewildered boy.