Soul Taker's Redemption

by A. S. Hamilton

  Soul Taker's

  Redemption

  Book 1: Empyrean Realms

  by AS Hamilton

  Copyright AS Hamilton

  2019

  ISBN: 978-1-925765-06-9

  This work is copyright. Apart from any use permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced by any process, nor may any other exclusive right be exercised, without the permission of AS Hamilton (who can be contacted via www.ashamilton.com).

  This being a work of fiction, the characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual events or persons is coincidental.

  Dedication

  In honour of my brother, Ivan. You may not be with us any longer, but your support in life continues to inspire and encourage me. My grief feels soul deep, as I suspect it ever will.

  To my husband; without your faith and support, none of this would be possible. You are my kana: my rahn, my inspiration, my strength when mine fails, my motivation to keep pushing despite the pain, and, in the black depths of my depression; you are the light that brings me back to the surface.

  Acknowledgements

  I am very thankful for the support of my family and friends, especially my father. I would also like to thank you my editor, Craig Cormick (http://craigcormick.com/#!/works/) for contributing his experience, advice, and talent, all of which have helped me develop as a writer. I have also been fortunate enough to work with Robert Crescenzio (https://robertcrescenzio.artstation.com/), whose exceptional artistic talent has brought my imaginations into reality— you capture my characters so well that your art continues to inspire their development.

  Books by AS Hamilton

  Andarean Realms Prophecies (Fantasy)

  Prophecy's Deception

  Prophecy's Quest

  Prophecy's Diversion (Coming soon)

  Empyrean Realms (Paranormal/Fantasy)

  Soul Taker's Redemption

  Soul Taker Reborn (Coming soon)

  Want more information?

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  www.ashamilton.com

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  Author's Note

  When writing I often write scenes to specific songs as it often (but not always) helps sets the pace and mood for the scene. My disability often means that it can be challenging sitting up and even typing, so most of my books are written in my mind before they are dictated or typed. By writing to music, I can listen to a song and create or finesse a scene away from my computer.

  For this book, the main character, Therion, finds music an effective emotional release and it occurred to me that it is so much a part of his emotional expression that readers may want to know the music that contributed to the scenes he is in. So, for Therion's scenes you will see a song title and artist in square brackets beneath his name.

  If you'd like to access a playlist of these songs you can go to this link on my website that connects to YouTube: http://www.ashamilton.com/soul-taker-series/playlist

  If the link does not work, just search the book title (Soul Taker's Redemption), my name (AS Hamilton), or Therion's Playlist.

  Finally, thank you for choosing to read Soul Taker's Redemption, I hope you enjoy it. If you do:

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  It doesn't have to be long and Amazon makes it easy. Reviews are crucial for indie authors, so I'd really appreciate it if you take a few minutes to write one. To submit a review, simply go to the product detail page for the book on Amazon and in Customer Reviews (bottom of page) click Write a Customer Review.

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  -Visit my website: www.ashamilton.com to access sample chapters, my blog, and artwork by the talented Robert Crescenzio.

  Therion

  [Heaven's a Lie – Lacuna Coil]

  I am not what many would consider an angel despite my wings.

  Looking down into my opponent's face, I saw everything I was not: silver eyes; golden, sun-kissed skin; silver-iridescent hair; and white wings. The silver threading his feathers flashed in the sunlight cutting through the dissipating storm clouds. A light-angel, or light-dancer as those of us from Unia-littah— the Dark Realm— called them.

  He clutched at my hand, which tightly encircled his throat. His expression was far from meek surrender, but his youth was against him. My kind have been fighting the light-dancers for millennia and, not being limited by the same morals, we often decimate their numbers, which means the light-dancers are often younger and less experienced. A few dozen angels filled the sky, the blood-red marked black wings and hair of the dark-angels starkly contrasting against the white-silver of the light-dancers.

  I pumped my wings harder, dragging my opponent up despite his futile attempts to get free. When I was high enough, I drew him into a close embrace. He arched his neck as far away as he could, thinking I intended to inflict a venomous bite. Instead, I used my free hand to reach behind him and wrench his wing-joint out of place. He screamed— a heart-rendering sound to many ears, I'm sure, but not mine.

  Just as I was about to let him fall the fatal distance to the ground, three more light-dancers ploughed into us. Two grabbed their kin while the third slammed his knife into my upper chest, just beneath my collarbone. I grunted, drawing one of my twin blades, but keeping it out of my attacker's line of sight. We were losing height because the impact had knocked me sideways and I'd partially closed my wings to protect them. It allowed my newest attacker to get the higher position. He retained his hold on me and the knife in my chest as he forced me downwards. I wasn't worried he would drive me into the ground, that would be too ruthless a tactic for a light-dancer, but when I looked up and saw my attacker was Silven I was forced to reassess. I had faced Silven before and knew he was happy to let his moral compass waiver towards ruthlessness if it meant eliminating a dark-angel.

  'How dare you intervene before The Calling?' Silven demanded.

  It was the same old rhetoric his god, Aurealis, spouted; souls were only open to the gods during The Calling, which occurs when a vessel, or body as the humans call it, dies and the spirit is released. Once that spirit reaches the ether, which is a plane of transition often mistaken for heaven by humans, there is a time when they can choose one of several gods to oversee their return to a mortal form or, if they are ready, guide them through ascension. Each god has something they can offer. For instance, if the spirit has a connection with the ocean, they might heed the call of Nea-luna, or, if the spirit wishes to seek the Light Realm, they will follow Aurealis's call. If the power of the destructive forces appeals to them, they will enter the realm of my god, Ceri-talen. There are many gods providing a range of choices for spirits, thus The Calling, the time when the gods can persuade a spirit to join their realm.

  'No law governs the time between death and when the spirit reaches the ether,' I countered. Well, not technically.

  I spread my wings wide, thrusting them several times to reposition myself. Being far older than most of those here, my wingspan often overshadows theirs, giving me an advantage in terms of manoeuvrability, so I succeeded in levelling myself up with Silven in spite of his resistance. As I did, I brought my short sword around, slashing him across the abdomen and chest. He let go of his knife, still buried in my upper chest, as he flinched back, but a line of gold blood con
firmed that my blade had struck its target. I did not give him time to recover or escape, following through with a series of strikes, backing him up and repositioning myself so I kept the height advantage. Silven drew his long sword, but my first long, diagonal strike had lacerated his upper shoulder and he almost dropped his blade as the injury impeded him. Now, he was barely fending off my strikes.

  I pulled my wings in, allowing me to drop in swiftly so I was right on top of him. In such close proximity his long sword was useless. He tried to back up, to give himself room to use his sword, but I was unrelenting. I delivered a mortal strike right through his abdomen. Unlike his brethren, Silven did not scream. I may be older, but he was no child either and it showed. Rather than crumple with the blow, he grabbed my throat in a crushing hold.

  'You think I'm going to let you kill me that easily, soul-stealer?'

  He drew his wings in tight, making me support both our weights. I twisted my blade, still buried in his body. He ground his teeth, refusing to reward me with a scream, but I could feel his pain, taste the torment of his spirit. Taking the souls of those who dwell in the earthly realms is easy enough; they are vulnerable and, having just lost their vessels, disoriented. Without a vessel to protect it, to bind it to the earthly realm, such spirits are as vulnerable as the lamb to the lioness. Silven is of the Light Realm though— a place humans would consider the true heaven— thus, he is no innocent lamb without the means or knowledge to protect himself. This means I have to work much harder to weaken him enough to take his spirit, but weakened him, I had. And so, I prepared to take it.

  Before I could fully harness Silven's spirit, the thunderous roar of a dragon made me shove the light-dancer away; the god of the Light Realm, Aurealis, had arrived to protect her servants.

  Because of his injuries, Silven's grip on my throat had loosened, so I broke the hold easily. I did not take the time to see if he fell or recovered and took flight, but instead turned to face the new threat. The dragon was not fully through the portal, but she was plunging towards me never-the-less. She was a colossus of horns, scales, and spikes. The pearlescent-silver crown of horns caught the sunlight and her silver eyes flashed as she closed in on me.

  'Therion,' Aurealis growled in reprimand.

  I recoiled at the feel of the god in my mind and shoved her out.

  Great pearlescent-silver and white feathered wings came through to the earthly realm, creating a whirlwind that made it difficult to stabilise myself. Her sheer enormity would scare off most creatures, but then even a small dragon is bigger than an aeroplane; Aurealis's wingspan alone would eclipse such a craft. I did not flee from her though, for I am a soul taker; the one time when size does not matter…

  Well, not as much.

  We were above an earthquake-devastated city, where hundreds of deaths had made many spirits vulnerable. Below a group of my brethren attempted to collect them before they reached the ether, while those of us here, in the air, kept the light-dancers busy. The arrival of the dragon would bring a swift end to our gathering.

  Sure enough, I could feel my brethren planes-shifting out, returning to the Dark Realm. Although I did not fear the god of the Light Realm, despite the way she loomed over me, I still drew shadows from the shadow plane and let them mist about me. The move not only made me seem larger than I was but obscured my exact position.

  Left unopposed, the light-dancers that were unharmed dropped below to safely escort the vulnerable spirits to the ether. The injured light-dancers returned to their home, the Light Realm— Dellen-littah, they call it.

  'You should know better than to attempt to take the spirit of one of my people,' Aurealis chided.

  'I will take any soul I like. I have before and I will again,' I retorted, seething at the tone of admonishment she used, like she was my god— her, a god of light, having power over a being of shadow like myself!

  It was true, what I said. I'd taken many a light-dancer's spirit; we all did, for the dark-angels are not the first of Ceri-talen's creations that can take souls, but we are the first who pose a direct threat to the light-dancers. You see, once, long ago, Ceri-talen worked harmoniously with his brethren, participating in The Calling equally with them. At some point, this time of harmony was shattered by a discord between the gods and that was when Ceri-talen decided to harvest beyond The Calling. He created soul takers, Dark Realm creatures adapted to collect souls and bring them to him. Ceri-talen uses the energy of these spirits to pursue his ambitions, whether that is triggering events, creating beings, or expanding his realm. Often, he influences occurrences in the earthly realm, which can be monumental or seemingly inconsequential. A pyromaniac might find they can trace their urge to light a fire to Ceri-talen's influence. That category two cyclone that unexpectedly becomes category four— that is Ceri-talen. A peaceful protest is nudged into a riot, seemingly inexplicably, by Ceri-talen's servants manoeuvring the right people into the right places so that, together, they cannot help but develop into the destructive forces he desires.

  At first Ceri-talen was subtle, his gathering of these souls hidden beneath events he manipulated in the earthly realms. Then the human population expanded such that it became one of the dominant life-forms and his harvesting beyond The Calling became more noticeable. As there was nothing specifically prohibiting Ceri-talen's actions, those gods who objected to his activities decided to provide greater protection for those souls under their jurisdiction. His primary opponent, Aurealis, saw these souls as having advanced significantly along their path to ascension, and by taking them and reducing them to their essential energy Ceri-talen brought that advancement to an abrupt halt. Thus, Aurealis started assigning her servants, those like Silven, to protect these spirits. There followed a succession of light-dancers as Aurealis evolved these angels from simple servants to soldiers and guardians.

  Ceri-talen's reaction?

  He created me.

  Not only am I built to kill, I can manipulate energy. It is through this ability that I can take apart a spirit until it is just energy, absorb it into myself, and then transfer it to Ceri-talen or one of the creatures he has whose purpose is to store that energy. He called me a therilgalen and with his success with me, he went on to create an army to oppose those who would disrupt his activities. Since then, an all-out war had taken place, which my master lost, but that has not diminished his ambition.

  I gave Aurealis a malevolent look. 'Who am I to intervene, your servants challenge me? Who are you,' I demanded, 'to interfere? You have no more claim to them here than my master does.'

  'Someone has to protect them. If I had realised that sooner, you would not have been stolen in the first place.'

  'I am not stolen,' I snarled. 'I was created.'

  'No.'

  She said it simply, but there was conviction in her eyes. It made me pause. I scrutinised her expression as I asked, 'What riddle is this?'

  'There is no riddle, Therion.' Her tone was matter of fact, as if she was stating a truth, or, at least, she believed she was stating a truth. 'Once you were free. You were a pure and strong spirit, your ascension all but complete.'

  Her voice grew wistful, emotional. I did not understand it; why did this god attach enough meaning to me to be emotional about a past of which I had no recollection?

  'All it took was a moment's inattention and that craven, power-obsessed thief robbed you of your chance to ascend. No, not just to ascend, Ceri-talen robbed you of everything.'

  I sneered as I started climbing higher. 'This is just a ruse. Lies to persuade me to ask you to redeem me.'

  'Would it be that bad? After all, every soul I have redeemed I have set free. Imagine that— freedom. No masters to cower before, no yoke to encumber your spirit, no unyielding handlers demanding more of you than you are willing to give.' She paused. 'No more torture under Ulyn's scalpel as she tries to improve you in the name of your master.'

  She had me there. Ulyn, my handler in the Dark Realm, did routinely engage in torture.


  'No more hunting,' I pointed out. 'Or are you, Aurealis, god of Dellen-littah, proposing a situation where you will allow a soul taker to continue hunting after you have 'redeemed' him?'

  She had known it would come. It was an objection soul taker would make. It was true, she had redeemed many, taking tortured, tattered souls and returning them to a point where they could continue their journey towards ascension and setting them free. But what was freedom without the hunt, the anticipation built by the chase, or the taste of a soul as it filled my every pore with exhilaration and strength? Nothing, nothing compared to that feeling of power, that moment of triumph.

  'Today, a life without the hunt seems impossible to you. But there is greater meaning in life to be found, and you can only find it if you give up that which you think defines you but actually limits you. We will talk again, Therion.'

  She dived, then, and I watched as the pearlescent spikes lining her neck, back, and tail flowed past me like river rapids. It seemed to take minutes for her extensive body to pass under me, and then she was swooping low over the city below.

  I stared for a long time after she disappeared from sight, astonished and speechless. Had she just propositioned me to redeem?

  Why? Why now?

  I shifted through to the Dark Realm and then glided to the top of a cliff. Away from the earthly realm and its blinding sun, I was able to pull the shadows about me more easily. The glittering canopy above lit up the temple below. I could see the main avenue, lit by crystal trees. The white diamond light of their leaves created deeper shadows around the statues lining the stairway to the temple. On a long, flat section that was about two-thirds of the way down the tall cliff face I could see the figures of the recently returned therilgalen. They hoped Ceri-talen might make an appearance at the temple, hoped to witness the majesty of their god, but he would not grace us this time. We had failed. We may have collected scores of spirits, but not even thousands would have satisfied him because we'd left before we finished. We'd left fleeing Aurealis.