Original Souls (A World Apart #1)

by Kyle Thomas Miller

  "Take the thing inside my head," Corinth said sullenly, "and just do it yourself."

  Sebastian didn't want to tell him that the Creative Window was the only thing that could give the Nexus over to him. The transfer wasn't as simple as he tried to make it seem so many times before. He finally had all three pieces lined up. He was inside the gates of Aurora Boreal, with the Creative Window and the Nexus. And this time, no pesky force fields blocking him from interacting with Corinth. He wasn't passing this one up.

  "Just open the window, and you and your loved ones will be fine. I am gracious, aren't I? You lived under me in Draconia for nearly an entire term. You realize I am the Chancellor, right?"

  "But you outlawed magik there. So why do you use so much of it?"

  He deliberately ignored the young boy’s astonishingly poignant point of most people's easy going hypocrisy. "Corinth, do you love your family?" He leaned in close. His cold breath gave Corinth the chills.

  "Of course," little Cory said quickly, falling into the trap.

  "Then why are you so willing to let them die, without even trying to save them first?" He pointed to Evan still losing his mind on the cobblestones. Corinth felt a great wave of guilt suddenly flooding into his heart. His mother and father were fighting for him. The Pavilion nearly crumbled to bits for him. Evan was lying on the floor screaming in agony. His friends were nearly killed on a high-speed coaster. All for him. They risked themselves because of his weakness and this selfish quest for answers. He couldn't stop thinking about his own needs. Perhaps Sebastian could bring peace to the Worlds, he thought? If only I let go.

  I could not allow this type of trickery to play so easily over Corinth. I whispered to the restrained boy on the altar. "Sebastian can't bring peace to a peaceful place. He speaks of destruction to you openly, therefore he could never be trustworthy."

  "At least he can be up front about it," Corinth said aloud to the Nexus, as if the conversation were ongoing. Camil was unsure of what just occurred, but Sebastian very well knew. Nearly every time I spoke out to him before ... it backfired. This time was no exception. Sebastian could tell Corinth was in a mental struggle with me. He wanted this type of discord to run ramped throughout the boy's fragile, yet dynamic mind. The uncertainty of whether to trust the Nexus became the only thing he could think about for months now. He had already decided that trust wasn't an option. He turned his stark attentions to the Creative Window, without saying another word.

  Not even I could stop what happened next!

  <*>

  Anvard and Lindle found themselves in a cavernous room after they took a wrong turn and didn't correct their misstep immediately. They walked through a dry stone area. This was the first place that they didn't see any shards of glass on the walls. Instead, there were coffins on the walls. Seven coffins arranged in a circular fashion around the room. The magnificent detail caught Lindle's eye. He moved in to take a closer look. He rubbed his hand across the exquisite designs. They were dusty. Very dusty. "What are these?" he asked Anvard.

  "I don't know, how would I, and I don't think it matters," he had a certain urgency to his tone. "We need to find Corinth now, and get out of here."

  "How?" Lindle exclaimed. "The map is going haywire. It looks like it says we're under the North Lake. That’s stupid! The myths always say; -beyond the North Lake.That’s where the Shattered Temple is supposed to be."

  "And yet no one found it out there," Anvard countered. "Maybe the map knows exactly what picture it’s painting for us."

  He unfolded the unmarked -piece of parchment, and instantly a 3D version of their surroundings popped up. The images were scrambled and hard to make out, but they could use it. Anvard manipulated the scenery, but couldn't get very far ahead on the map from the exact point where he and Lindle were positioned. The map didn't have a perfect layout of the entire structure. Though true, it still labeled -‘Shattered Temple’ above every landmark it revealed to them. Lindle didn't believe it, but Anvard was starting to remember more clearly what occurred while they were floating in the lake. Anvard took a few more steps into the not so well lit room. Just a few torches spread out around the room. Placed in the wide gaps of space between the seven coffins against the walls.

  At the center lay an oak table. A clear vase on the table had a bunch of red roses inside. They were fresh flowers, recently picked and placed there. He put the parchment down on the table, and just stared at the holographic map. Lindle continued examining the mysterious coffins. Rounding the room one at a time, so amazed by the meticulously drawn faces that covered each one.

  "Where are you, Cory?" Anvard asked the images, while the map sat on the table, as if they could speak out and tell him.

  While Lindle picked at one of the mummy faces on the sarcophagus, he noticed it move. Not from poking at it. It was trembling from the ground up. He watched it, and then took a look around. The entire wall was trembling behind the coffins, and so too was the floor now.

  "Uh . . . Anvard! Does it seem to you that we're moving?" He scratched his head as his expression widened.

  "No," Anvard said flatly. "Where do you think we should go next? Come take a look at the—"

  Suddenly, water burst up from the ground at the center of the room. Pushing the table up in the air to inevitably crash back down over Andy's head, if he didn't move. But he felt like he couldn't just yet because he lost the map when the sprouting geyser caught him by surprise, lifting it off the table toward the ceiling of the cavern.

  "Get out of the way, against the walls, now, hurry!" an observant Lindle yelled.

  "No, we need the map!" Anvard didn't want the map getting lost in the water. He waited for the table to make its fall back down to see exactly where the map would land. He shifted a little from side to side, to be ready to dodge the table. He wasn't so stupid that he was looking to get hit. He just didn't want to miss the map, as its likely soakedand wet frame came flimsily fluttering back down. There’s no telling how badly it’ll malfunction this time around, after all that water damage it had to suffer in the North Lake. With the tables weight, it will likely crash back down at about the same spot. But the map just flew away with the rising air pressure of the now closed chamber.

  "The door!" Lindle yelled.

  Anvard started stomping through the swallow waters, trying to follow the path of the air surfing parchment. The table splashed some water on his back when it smashed down behind him, splintering into countless pieces, as he pushed toward the wall of coffins. The map, still in the air, Anvard still chasing it. It was nearly as light as a feather. It continued swaying from side to side, evading the persistent boy.

  "What good is a map, if we're stuck in here?!" Lindle shouted from the door they just walked through only moments ago. He pulled on the rusty handle as hard as he could, and it snapped off! He brought the broken treasure up to his face and stared at it with wide eyes. "Oh crap! We're officially dead."

  Anvard continued dragging himself through the building waters. "A map could be the difference between life and death, if we're really stuck!" he yelled to Lindle, who was across the room at his back. "It can show us a way out!"

  "If there is one?" Lindle grumbled. He thought it was a good idea, but couldn't help but think Anvard made it up off the top of his head. He could tell his sole priority was to get to Corinth. He didn't even notice the room was shaking, because he stared so intently at that already malfunctioning crap map. The water had risen so high that neither one of their feet touched the ground any longer. A floating Lindle called out. "Anvard just let it go, we can bust this door together!"

  "It’s got to come down at some point!" The map kept bouncing around as the water rushed in, creating pressure waves off the walls of the circular room. The coffins below started to become unhinged from their fixed positions. The first one drifted up, shocking Anvard. He quickly got his wits back and a bright idea came with them. He tried to use it as a surfboard. Kneeling on top, pulling himself out of the water. It couldn't
support his weight. Not such a bright idea after all. It just toppled over to its side, knocking him off, and he splashed back into the high waters.

  "The door will be covered soon! We can't break it from under water! You have to swim over and help!" Lindle was losing control. He was a fine swimmer himself, but holding his breath forever underwater wasn't an option. Once the water hit the ceiling, they'd be done for it.

  "Got it!" Anvard shouted across the room.

  "Then—come—on!" Lindle couldn't believe he'd just done all that for a likely broken map.

  He tucked the parchment into the collar of his shirt. He knew it’d get wet, but not soaked like it already had been. Andy swam the length of the room like the expert he is. The swimming track of Levantarse was his second favorite to the ice, and he put a lot of practice in on both, if not all. He made it, in what seemed like the nick of time. There was still the top quarter of the door visible, not yet submerged. "All right, on three we both thrust out with our shoulders," Anvard talked an angry Lindle through the first step to saving their lives.

  "One, two, three!!!" They both put all their energy behind it. If they hadn't both lost their llaves there would be no issue getting the door open. They tried again and again, but it seemed like there was no use, while floating like buoys.

  "It's too tight!" Lindle finally said.

  "No, it's not," Anvard announced firmly. "We just need more force. Here, hold this," he looked to Lindle sternly, "and keep it above the water."

  Lindle looked at the ridiculous paper and thought: Oh, that will be easy! It’s not like we’re surrounded by water or anything. Then it might be a challenge keeping this thing afloat.

  After he gave up the treasured map to Lindle, he looked up at the hooded threshold above the archway of the door. It wasn't wide enough to stand on, but it appeared stable enough to grab hold of. He put both hands on the edges of it, and gripped hard. He could feel his adrenaline level surging as his blood sped faster and faster through his veins. He pulled the lower half of his body out of the water. He was hanging from the hooded threshold like a monkey from a vine. He pulled his legs into his chest, and took a deep breath.

  Lindle watched the athlete in amazement. His focus under pressure was uncanny. He heard Corinth mockingly calling him, Rocksteady, but he truly was. No amount of pressure seemed to scare him away, except that rock and that hard place back in the tunnel. But Lindle overlooked that as a special case. He saw Anvard achieve Thunder in the most glorious fashion. There was no way he wasn't a powerhouse for real with the show he gave at the Pavilion.

  Andy steadied himself. Then forced his contracted legs forward, feet first. He firmly planted them into the top portion of the door that was half-covered by water. The door nearly shattered under the pressure of both Andy's legs, as well the steady rising tides in the room.

  They weren't home free yet for two reasons. First, the door wasn't fully opened, but Anvard had that covered. He began positioning himself to kick out again. Second reason, Lindle noticed that water wasn't just coming from the center of the floor in the room they were trapped in. The wall to wall bottom level of the entire temple was flooding with the waters of the North Lake.

  "Don't open that!" Lindle yelled frantically.

  It was too late. Lindle opened the map in his hands not long before Anvard thrust his legs forward again. He peered at the startling sight for too long to be able to stop the second blow that knocked the door off its hinges. Though they both heard the hinges snap, the door barely moved, because there was a wall of water on the other side of it. Instead of liberating them, the door was forced back into the cavernous room. Bringing with it all the new waters that rushed from behind. The boys were flung back toward the far wall, where all the coffins floated in a neat little group. They caught themselves up on those dead men's chests as best they could.

  "See!” spitting out water,“maps do come in handy when properly used," Anvard told a half-submerged Lindle. He struggled to pull Lindle up with him. The curly-haired boy went under when they crashed into the rather cushiony coffins. He got him, lifting him from sinking with only his left arm. The other arm firmly gripped a wobbling coffin.

  Lindle surfaced with a barrage of questions that Anvard couldn't possibly answer. "What's going on? Where are we going to go? Why's there so much water everywhere!?"

  Anvard stared at him unsympathetically. "Hey, you volunteered for this."

  Lindle stared back for a second as they both clung to the same coffin. It stabilized its wobble shortly, with them at either end, creating a fine balance across the length. "I wasn't complaining. But I'm definitely concerned, you numbskull!" Lindle slapped his hand down on the coffin, losing grip. Anvard again pulled him up. When he resurfaced, face to face with his second time savior holding him up, he donned a new attitude. He looked down as he spoke. "Maybe I'm a numbskull too." Anvard nodded to that sincerely. "But what are we going to do!? The water is almost near the ceiling now."

  They both looked up with dreadful expressions. Neither of them envisioned themselves drowning, not ever. Well, except when they plummeted toward the lake a few hours ago on a fiery death cart. But they didn't have much time to think on that one. And now they just stare at nothing but a flat rock ceiling looming above, as the waters continue to rise. "We could swim down and out of here. Let’s see if the map has any unfilled areas on it. Maybe we can find our way to air by going back down!" Anvard seemed optimistic.

  "Yeah, but what if we can't hold our breath that long?" Lindle countered, while looking down at the clear rising liquid.

  "It doesn't matter, we have to try. Just give me back the map."

  "Um—about that." He put a finger to his mouth with his free hand. "I sort of ripped it in two when we got pushed back by the incoming water behind the door."

  "What! Are you serious?"

  "As a heart attack." Lindle pointed to the two soaking pieces of beige parchment that floated a few yards away from them.

  "Great, just freaking great!" Anvard splashed water Lindle’s way. "I gave it to you for two-seconds, and it's ruined!"

  "Well, let me remind you that you kicked in a door that unleashed a whole lake's worth of water onto our heads during those ‘two-seconds,’ pal!"

  "Okay, okay we both blew it. I get it." Anvard leveled with him. But Lindle felt like it was more Anvard's fault than his own.

  "It’s no use anyway!" Lindle exclaimed over the roaring sound of water splashing wildly on the circular walls around them. "I saw it on the map. The entire bottom level was filling from all directions."

  "But how?" Anvard asked.

  "You said it yourself. The map said it. The translations have been wrong all this time. It wasn't ‘beyond’ the North Lake, it's beneath it!" Lindle was bewildered and confused. Waiting to die a horrible death wasn't what he initially planned for the evening. Not at least before he noticed Corinth and Anvard talking in the Library. He was just going to eat some Smoldering Golds chocolates, fall to sleep on his bed, with a good book in hand. That is, if his roommates decided they wouldn't be massive jerks for the night. "We're screwed!" Lindle dropped his head down on the coffin and heard a welcoming sound. "They're hollow! They're hollow, Andy!" he shouted out with glee, grabbing Anvard's shoulders, then suddenly realizing he had no support when he started sinking, yet again. He pulled himself up this time, using Andy's shoulders, which didn't settle too well with the athlete once the coffin started rocking around.

  "Steady yourself, and stop flipping out," Anvard's strong jaw grumbled at him. "Now what's all this hollow stuff about?" He questioned quickly as he took another look around to see the waters were getting ever closer to that flat ceiling nearing their heads.

  "They're floating and they're hollow. That means they're air tight, I think? To some degree, at least. We can get inside of them. And live, Anvard. We’ll live!" he shouted in his face with his brown eyes seeming to glow like the sun. He couldn’t contain the glee in his heart. Not dying was a much better plan tha
n waiting for death.

  "How do you know if they even open?"

  "Um, I don't," said Lindle flatly. Then he heard the coffin cracking open while he looked away at the waters still filling the cavern.

  "Well, what do you know," Anvard said with a huge grin. "Hop in, Curly,” he smiled at a wet and wavy Lindle,“you may have just saved our lives."

  "Wait, what if we sink?"

  "What?" Anvard impatiently questioned.

  "What if we sink?" Lindle said again. "Our weight is going to make this thing a lot heavier."

  "Whatever," Anvard barked, "once we close it that won't matter. Water obviously can’t get in, otherwise these things would have never surfaced like buoys when the water came flooding in. Besides, look," he gestured with his head toward the velvet interior of the empty and dry coffin,“they would, at the very least, be damp if they weren’t waterproof.”

  Most likely true, thought Lindle, but his nerves made him hesitant. He looked down at the gray coffin and its plush velvet looking insides, and wondered if it would serve as his deathbed.