The Soul Forge
By Andrew Lashway
Text copyright © 2014 Andrew Lashway
Table of Contents
Introduction: The Magi War
Chapter 1: Birthright
Chapter 2: Damnation at the Tavern
Chapter 3: Priorities
Chapter Four: Concerning Kings
Chapter 5: Wooden Nightmares
Chapter 6: Birth of Shadow
Chapter 7: Escape
Chapter 8: Verdonti
Chapter 9: The First Task
Chapter 10: The Keeper
Chapter 11: Assault on Verdonti
Chapter 12: Flight to the Flame
Chapter 13: A Chapter of Rest
Chapter 14: Down Among the Dead
Chapter 15: Outrunning the Devil
Chapter 16: The Makers
Chapter 17: The Soul Forge
Chapter 18: The Stable Boy’s Sacrifice
Chapter 19: Into the Abyss
Introduction: The Magi War
In the days before the kingdom of Ludicra, the humans lived in harmony with the elves. The dwarf princes of the mountains worked tirelessly to supply gold and jewels to the cities. The sea-folk graced the land-walkers with the occasional song or dance. There was peace.
Naturally, the peace did not last.
King Ofan, ruler of the Silent Mountains, came forth like a plague on all other races. Ofan, the first Dark Priest, made it his mission to obliterate all life that was not, as he claimed, “in the likeness of the Lord Daemonium.” No one knew what or who Ofan was referring to, but they could all agree on one thing: Ofan had to be stopped.
The best smiths from the dwarf lands lent their weapons to the humans, while the elves devoted their meticulous tactical acumen to leading the armies. Battles erupted all over the countryside, from the ruins of Ganda-Con to the perilous swamps of Botinda. Slowly and at the cost of many lives, the free forces of the world began to push Ofan back from whatever dark hole he had crawled out of.
That was when Ofan introduced a new weapon.
Magic.
Never before seen by any other race, scores of armies fell to this new power. The dwarves could forge no armor to counter it, nor could the elves devise any strategy against it. All looked bleak until the fateful night when a human general by the name of Lee Chromwell found the solution.
With a will forged by blood and battle, General Chromwell called upon the very power that was being used against them. From the deepest, purest pit of his soul, Chromwell unleashed magic on the magic-users. He wielded a blade forged from the soul-crystals of the Silent Mountains, named such because of how they resonated with a soul. Utilizing this, the General imbued his blade with the power to cleanse darkness from a body.
They armies of the free races pushed back, outnumbering and overpowering Ofan’s forces. Ofan railed against them, and it looked to everyone as if the Magi War would end in the destruction of all.
In a last ditch effort, General Chromwell led an elite force of fighters to the home of Ofan himself. There, on the slopes of the Silent Mountains, the forces of good and the legions of evil met in a final effort.
Impossibly, unbelievably, Ofan was not the victor of that battle.
General Chromwell’s forces routed Ofan’s, and the Dark Priest was left with no choice but to retreat, never to be seen again. His followers dispersed or were killed, and the Magi War was ended.
The war left cities in ruin and relations strained, but nothing was of more prevalence than the ultimate question on everyone’s minds: what to do about ‘magic?’
The dwarves simply ignored it, feeling that a well-forged blade was far more useful than any trick of the mind. The elves embraced it heartily, feeling it was a natural progression of life and study.
The humans, however, had a much different approach. United by General Chromwell, the humans forged a kingdom called Ludicra. Many vied for Chromwell to take over as king, but the General refused. Instead, the crown passed to his second in command, Tiber Odenyt.
It was King Odenyt who passed the law that made the practice of magic punishable by death.
This decision was not well received by the elves, who withdrew from human society. The dwarves were not pleased by the law either, feeling it was a huge infringement on the rights of all people. Peace had returned, but it was an uneasy one.
This then, is where our story begins. Only five years after the Magi War ended, another conflict is brewing in the heart of Ludicra, one that threatens to take the fragile peace so valiantly fought for and decimating it.
The dwarves are secluded, the elves are restless, and more humans die every day as they try to control and subjugate a power beyond comprehension.
And from the Silent Mountains, a whisper is heard to those who know how to listen.
Ludicra is ready to either stand and embrace the light, or fall to the unforgiving darkness. The only thing that can tip the scales is a young boy growing to be a man.
A young boy named Thomas.
Chapter 1: Birthright
Thomas Finn tripped over a broom in the muck-strewn stables and a spark erupted from where his hands hit the floor.
Thomas was 17, tall and lanky with fair skin and a mane of black hair that constantly fell in front of his hazel eyes. Hair grew on his chin in splotches that always made his face appear lopsided. He was a stable boy, and as such his duties were to watch over the horses and clean the muck. Not a very luxurious job, but his employer was a fair man who treated him with respect. Little else mattered to Thomas.
Then his hands sparked.
He stared at his hands as if betrayed before quickly looking around to make sure no one was around to see it. If even a whisper got out that he was using magic, he could kiss his head goodbye. And he was rather fond of his head, despite his unruly hair.
Thomas leaned forward to examine the floor, hoping he was simply hallucinating and no strange events had occurred. That hope was immediately dashed as he saw two identical burn marks where his hands had connected with the floor.
He took a deep breath, steadying himself so he didn’t start to scream. He had faced down rampaging horses and hadn’t been so scared. He snapped his fingers, but nothing happened. He rubbed the palms of his increasingly sweaty hands, but still nothing. Feeling slightly more relieved, he rubbed his hands together to work the sweat off.
Sparks flew from where his palms met.
He jumped away, his breath coming in harsh gasps. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
How was this happening?
Curiosity outweighed caution, and he rubbed his hands together again. He was ready this time when the glowing shards of flame crackled from his palms. Before his curiosity could turn to excitement, a voice spoke from outside.
“Thomas!” a gruff voice called from the yard, “what’s keeping you, boy?” The voice belonged to his boss, Gregory Kimpchik. Master Kimpchik was many things, but patient he was not.
“Just tripped, sir,” Thomas answered in a decent mimic of his own voice. “I’ll have Lucille ready in a moment.”
“There’s a good lad,” Master Kimpchik replied, and silence fell between them. Thomas gathered his wits and stood up, walking towards the black horse that was Lucille. Her coat shone from Thomas’ brushing the night before, and her coarse mane lay gently to the side.
“You ready for your ride this morning, girl?” Thomas asked the horse, saddling her and preparing the bridle. Lucille gave him no response but to whip her tail at him, a reaction Thomas had long ago thought to be endearing.
“Stable Boy!” a voice said as Lucille opened her mouth to accept the bridle. Thomas immediately stopped, his eyes growing wide. First sparks from his hands and now Lucil
le could talk?! Was the universe trying to give him a heart attack?
“Stable Boy,” the voice repeated, and he felt a finger tap him on the waist. He reflexively jumped at the touch, turning to see a girl staring up at him with barely disguised scorn.
She was Anna, the Master’s daughter and possibly the most unpleasant child Thomas had ever met. Though come to think of it, he hadn’t met all that many. Anna was naturally shorter than him, and because that made her uncomfortable she always required he stoop down so that they were at least eye level with each other.
Today was no exception, and she kicked him in the shin slightly so that he had to bend over.
Thomas would have said something, but how exactly do you tell off a nine year old girl? Her red pigtails and stubby arms always had a habit of disarming him.
“What’s taking you so long, Stable Boy?” Anna asked angrily, crossing her arms across her chest.
“Now Miss Anna, we’ve talked about this. My name is Thomas.”
She disregarded the statement as if he had never said it. “Daddy’s waiting for his horse, Stable Boy.”
“I’m aware of that,” Thomas replied patiently, “I was just finishing up.”
“Well, hurry up!” Anna ordered, kicking him again. Thomas simply chuckled and shook his head before clicking his tongue. Recognizing the call, Lucille walked forward lazily.
“Go faster!” Anna yelled, stamping her foot. She made to slap the horse’s hind end, as she had no doubt seen both Thomas and her father do, but Thomas caught her arm mid-swing.
“Now, that ain’t how you treat a horse. You only give ‘em a kind swat when you need to, not just when you think they aren’t going fast enough.”
Anna wrenched her arm free, stuck out her tongue and left the stable without a word. Thomas shook his head again, slightly rolling his eyes with a small smile. She may be a little brat, but he truly believed she meant well. She just had a little bit of growing up to do.
“Thomas!” Master Kimpchik called
“Right here, sir,” Thomas replied, emerging from the stable into the bright morning light. The sun had barely crept over the horizon, looking sleepier than those gathered under it. Anna had run into the house, no doubt to prepare for her taxing evening of running through the grassy hills that made up Master Kimpchik’s estate.
Master Kimpchik himself was even taller than Thomas, with wide arms and a plain but still impressive dress. While Thomas was dressed in his torn and ratty work clothes, Master Kimpchik was dressed in a red overcoat with a white shirt under it and white pants.
“Thomas, why aren’t you wearing the clothes Lucinda made?”
“Oh, I appreciate the gesture, sir, but I wouldn’t dream of soiling those clothes until these ones are all used up.”
Master Kimpchik chuckled, mounting Lucille with a practiced step.
“Make sure you tell her that. She’d have my head if she thought I was mistreating you.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir,” Thomas replied, gently patting Lucille with a sad smile.
“And you should get another book from the library. You can’t have read them all. Have you?”
Thomas smiled, having to really think about it. “There should be one or two I haven’t read yet, sir,” he said. Out of a library of a few hundred books, Thomas had spent much of the last few years reading every chance he got.
Master Kimpchik flicked the reins once, starting him and Lucille headed off on their morning ride.
“Stable Boy!” Anna suddenly shrieked, making Thomas jump. “Come quickly!”
Without hesitation, Thomas sprinted for the house. Anna had never before sounded an alarm like that.
But as he slammed open the door and headed inside, Anna was huffing over a jug of milk that was rapidly filling the floor. Thomas immediately picked the jug up, saving the remaining milk.
“Now Ms. Anna, how did this happen?” Thomas asked, kneeling down to look her in the eye.
“I don’t know,” she replied immediately.
“Ms. Anna. I know your father wouldn’t appreciate you lying. Neither would your mother.”
Her gaze shifted immediately, looking out of the window for something to help her avoid the conversation.
“I don’t want to have to tell your father, Ms. Anna. So how about you tell me what happened, and then we can clean this up.”
“I… I was just trying to pour it and my hand slipped…”
“Ms. Anna, you know you aren’t supposed to try and pour any milk ‘til you get bigger.”
“I know,” she said to her chest.
“Your father’s going to be upset if he finds out your wasting milk. And he’d be even more upset if you had gotten hurt.”
Anna didn’t reply, simply staring at the floor.
“Next time, I’m going to have to tell him. But this time, let’s just get this mess cleaned up.”
She didn’t show any gratitude, but she did help him clean up the mess, which was more than Thomas was expecting. After that, she ran off into the fields to play with… well, Thomas didn’t actually know what she played with while she was out there.
Thomas moved further into the house, towards a room in the back. He took a moment to compose himself before gently knocking on the door. He wasn’t expecting an answer, nor did he receive one.
He pushed open the door with a smile hitched onto his face that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Hello, Mrs.”
Lucinda Kimpchik didn’t look up at his greeting, or acknowledge his presence at all. She simply sat in a chair, humming a tune no one recognized and crafting clothes from the materials supplied around the farm. Lost in her own little world, the way she had been for over four years now. Ever since the accident, she didn’t say or do much. All she did was make clothes in varying sizes, as if creating them for a gaggle of children.
Thomas walked forward slowly, lest he startle her. It had never happened in the years he had been a stable boy, but there was no telling if today would be the day things changed.
“I really liked the clothes you darned for me, ma’am. I’m saving ‘em for a special occasion, so they don’t get all worn out ‘cause of the horses and such. But don’t you worry, I’ll wear ‘em and they’ll look nice. You did a great job.”
She didn’t respond because she couldn’t respond. The only other thing she used to do was try and drown herself in the stream nearby, necessitating Thomas nailing the window shut and keeping the door locked at all times. Master Kimpchik had insisted, believing that one day his wife would return to him. The accident had broken her.
Oh Gods, that accident…
Thomas shook his head, warding away the memory. It wasn’t something he would ever willingly think about.
“Well, I have chores to do. Gotta muck the stalls; make sure Ms. Anna isn’t off causing trouble…” His voice trailed off as he realized he had nothing more to say.
“I’ll check in tomorrow, Mrs. Try to smile when Ms. Anna comes to see you, okay? It would make everyone’s day a little better.”
Thomas stood up and walked away, unable to bear being in her presence – or lack thereof – for a moment longer. He exited the house almost as quickly as he had entered it, taking breaths deeper than were strictly necessary.
He had barely made it to the stable when a sound reached his ears that sounded decidedly like a yelp. It wasn’t a scream, but it was more than a shout. Almost cursing his annoyance, he trotted towards the sound, wondering what Ms. Anna had done this time.
Then he heard the shouts of much older voices, and his trot turned into a sprint. On a hill overlooking the stream stood Anna, but she was not alone. There were three people staring at her, all vicious looking men with black, scorched armor. They were practically made of muscle, as if they had trained extensively at reaching the peak of their physical prowess.
Without thought, Thomas ran towards the three men in defense of Anna. He stopped just short of them, circling around so he was standing beside the
little girl. She was red in the face, probably from yelling at the people she perceived as a threat.
“Can I ask you gentlemen what you’re doing here?”
“Stand down, citizen, this doesn’t concern you,” the man in front said, waving Thomas aside. His voice was grizzled and tired, as if age couldn’t begin to define this man.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir. This girl’s under my care. Now please gentlemen, what do you want?”
“This girl has been suspected of practicing magic-casting. She must suffer the consequences.”
Thomas’ jaw fell so fast he was certain it dislocated. He turned to stare at Anna, who was strangely silent. “Now wait a minute. She’s just a little girl! There’s no way she’s caught up in any of that!”
The man shook his head immediately, and Thomas’ breath caught in his throat.
“It’s best if you move aside, citizen,” the man said, drawing a straight, equally scored sword.
Thomas took a deep breath, gathering every ounce of courage he possessed. Then he stepped in front of Anna.
“Citizen, aiding an enemy of the state makes you an enemy of the state.”
“She wasn’t practicing any magic-casting,” Thomas replied, closing his eyes. He didn’t know how they had found him so fast, but there was no way he was going to allow this little girl to take the fall for him.
“I was.”
Silence greeted his words.
Anna turned and stared at him, her jaw falling as far as a nine year old jaw could. Thomas didn’t look at her, unsure whether he would see disappointment or anger in her eyes. Either way, it wasn’t something he wanted to see.
“Citizen, are you being honest?”
Thomas almost shrugged. Not completely honest, after all. It wasn’t his fault his hands had sparked when he had fallen on his face. But with the imminent threat of Ms. Anna getting taken away, it didn’t matter.
“Yes sir. It just happened, sir. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“The law is the law, Caster,” the man said, “you will be taken to the Capital where you will be tried at first light.”
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