Soul of the Prophet: The Elder of Edon Book I

by David Angelo

  “You could’ve stayed,” Fin said. “I wouldn’t have objected.”

  “I know,” Scarlet said. She walked over to the fireplace and dropped her cloak with a splat on the stone. “Like I said, the pub was a wash, and I’d rather just go home and get some shuteye.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Fin said. “This entire town is a wash. It makes Notnedo look like a resort.”

  “Truer words have never been spoken,” Scarlet said. She took a seat next to Fin. Her skin was cold and clammy from the rain.

  “What’s that you’re reading?” she asked, pointing to the book.

  “Just some stuff about the undead,” Fin said. “Rocklier gave it to me as homework.”

  “Oh,” Scarlet said, interested. “What did you learn?”

  Fin sniggered. “What do you want to know first?”

  Scarlet pretended to think for a bit, even stroking her chin for extra effect. “Oh, I don’t know. Why are they so damn strong?”

  “Wait,” Fin said. “How’d you know about that?”

  “Because in all the stories I’ve read, the undead characters are always really powerful and strong, and they can’t feel any pain whatsoever. You have any idea where that comes from?”

  “Ah,” Fin said, nodding. “Well, you see, it all has to do with what happens when an Edonion becomes an undead. Rocklier told me earlier today that there was this evil Elder dragon—”

  “Typhoon?” Scarlet asked.

  Fin was dumbfounded. “How the hell do you know about that?”

  Scarlet looked at Fin with playful condescension. “I read the classics, Fin. I know all about Typhoon and the underworld.”

  “Well, then, why are you asking me if you know so much?”

  Scarlet laughed. “I just know the basics, Baby. Now tell me about their strength.”

  Fin explained the dynamics of the undead, their transformation, and the ritual needed to bring them eternal life. As it turned out, the classics Scarlet had read weren’t as keen on covering the sorts of details that Fin had learned during his studies.

  “…and it’s all part of what is collectively called the Rite of the Life Eater, the most blasphemous of all acts anyone could ever commit, something so hideous that even Blizzard herself needs to look away whenever someone does it.”

  “Wow,” Scarlet said. “Did it actually say that?”

  “Sorta,” Fin said. “Though I feel that a lot of it was hyperbole.”

  “Well…I guess that’s good to know,” Scarlet said. “But what does any of this have to do with killing Rixis?”

  Fin sighed. “Unfortunately, there was no mention about how to kill, or defeat, an undead in any of the chapters that I read. The only thing I could find was that an undead could kill another undead without issue, but as far as what a mortal can do, there’s not a whole lot.”

  “Lovely,” Scarlet said. “So we’re up shit’s creek without a paddle then?”

  “Not quite,” Fin said. “From what I could figure, Blizzard’s energy counters Typhoon’s. Whenever an undead enters a holy place, such as a church, or comes in contact with a holy object, they’re sapped of their powers and become just like the rest of us. You still won’t be able to kill them, but you can hurt and injure them pretty bad.”

  “So you’re saying that we should trick Rixis into coming to church with us? Maybe bribe him with candy or sacrament wine?”

  Fin snorted. “Maybe, but I have a feeling that’s part of the key to defeating him. There’s got to be something of religious significance that’s so powerful, Rixis wouldn’t be able to defend himself against it, and it may even kill him.”

  “Sounds like a tall order,” Scarlet said. “Where can we find such a thing?”

  Fin looked into the flames of the fire. “I don’t know,” he said. “Unless Blizzard gives us a sign, I don’t know if we even have a fighting chance.”

  There was a pause, during which the two of them looked into the fireplace as it slowly consumed a blackened log.

  Scarlet edged closer to Fin and rested her head on his shoulder. “I don’t know about you,” she said, “but I don’t want to live forever. I’d eventually like to go to the Upper Realm and see my parents.”

  Fin put his arm around her and ran his fingers down the side of her neck. “You don’t know that they’re dead,” he said. “Who’s to say you won’t see them again someday?”

  “I doubt it,” Scarlet said. “Both of our parents are probably long gone by now. Still, if I ever do get a chance to meet them, whether in this world or the next, I’d like to ask them what they think of us as a couple.”

  Fin smiled and kissed her on the forehead.

  “How were things in Dunderland?” he whispered.

  “Fine, I guess,” Scarlet replied. “The twins’ parents were happy to see them, but they were horrified when they learned what Grog had done to them. The girls themselves were fine, aside from some slight dehydration and some injuries they got during their assault, but other than that, they were perfectly healthy. Which reminds me…”

  Scarlet got up, reached into the medical bag, and took out a silver flask.

  “Kemp gave a bottle of this to the twins,” Scarlet said. “It’s a tonic that’s supposed to prevent pregnancy.”

  She handed the flask to Fin. He unscrewed the cork, sniffed, and wrinkled his nose at a pungent odor that reeked of old bourbon.

  “How do you use it?” Fin asked.

  “The woman has to drink it within a day of intercourse,” Scarlet said. “It stops conception from continuing, so to speak.”

  “Is it effective?” Fin asked.

  “It is according to Kemp,” Scarlet said. “She told me the Faranchies of the foothills of Hath have been using it for generations. She also used it on herself a few times, and she swears by it.”

  “Lucky her,” Fin said. “They ought to sell it and make a fortune.”

  Scarlet laughed. “I’m sure if they could, they would. However, it takes a very long time to produce, and that’s only in small quantities. There just wouldn’t be enough to go around.”

  “Tough break,” Fin said, handing the bottle back to Scarlet. “If she could find a way to mass-produce that stuff, she’d be rolling in rallod.”

  “True,” Scarlet said with a nod. “Maybe if we capture a distillery sometime down the road, we can convert it to make the tonic and see if mass production is feasible.”

  “I like your thinking,” Fin said. He stretched his legs out on the table in front of him, knocking some of his notes to the floor. He sighed. “I am so done with today.”

  Scarlet sat back down and scooted up next to him. “I hope you’re not too done, because Kemp made this bottle especially for us, and I was thinking of maybe trying it out.”

  “Oh really?” Fin asked. A rush of excitement sent his frills standing on end, and he could already feel them turning color.

  Scarlet nodded, smiling and placing her hand on Fin’s upper thigh.

  “We haven’t done it since we were under the tree,” she said.

  “I know,” Fin replied. “We’ve been so busy lately that we’ve hardly had any time to ourselves.” He looked at the flask that was still clutched in her other hand. “If only we had some of that stuff that night.”

  “Kemp was still mixing this batch,” Scarlet said, giving the flask a little shake. “But now we can use it as much as we want.”

  Fin grinned and grabbed her rear. “I’d take you now, on top of my notes, but it’s so damn hot with the fire roaring. Why don’t we head upstairs, where it’s cooler?”

  “For now…”

  They kissed.

  27

  “DOWN THE HATCH.” SCARLET put the flask to her lips and knocked it back. She stood by the dresser of their room, illuminated by the warm glow of an oil lamp. Fin remained in bed, his head propped behind his arms, watching as Scarlet drank Kemp’s miracle tonic. His dorsal spines were a brilliant red, and it would be hours before they resumed their norm
al ink-black color.

  “How’s it taste?” Fin asked.

  Scarlet smacked her lips and thought.

  “Not bad,” she said. “It tastes like watered-down molasses.” She turned and gave Fin a devious glance. “I’ve swallowed worse.”

  Fin smiled at his love, her golden skin glowing against the dark of the room.

  “How much more of that stuff do we have?” he asked.

  “This is enough to last us a few months,” Scarlet said, placing the bottle on the dresser. “According to Kemp, it’ll stay in my system for a few weeks, so that I won’t need to keep taking it each time.”

  “Perfect,” Fin said. He peeled the covers back and made room for her. She climbed in and pulled the blankets up to her chest.

  “That was awesome,” Fin said, smiling.

  “Indeed,” Scarlet said. She nudged herself closer to Fin, and the blood began rushing back into his spines when he felt the touch of her skin. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, and Scarlet rested her head on Fin’s chest. They were silent for a moment, listening to the rain that pattered the roof. Fin’s eyelids became heavy, and he could feel himself begin to doze off.

  “Hey, Fin?” Scarlet asked.

  “Yes?”

  “You ever want kids?” Scarlet asked.

  Fin’s eyes shot open, and his smile faded.

  “Probably not the best question to ask right now,” she said.

  “Nah, it’s fine,” Fin said, though he knew it was a lie. “But to answer your question, I don’t think we’re ready for one now. At least until the Dragon Storm comes and goes.”

  “Of course,” Scarlet said. “After that, we can start a family and have as many kids as we’d like and…” She stopped when she noticed that Fin’s smile hadn’t come back and had in fact turned to a nervous frown.

  “What’s the matter?” she said. “I thought you said you wanted kids.”

  “Maybe I did,” Fin said. “But now, I don’t know.”

  “You don’t want a little boy or girl to call you Daddy?”

  “I don’t know, Baby.” Fin sighed. “This world is so cold, so cruel. There’s so much hate. I don’t think I’d want to raise a kid in this environment.” He hesitated. “And even if we win this war, Edon isn’t just going to magically fix itself. It’s going to take forever to undo centuries of systemic anger. The cleanup will take longer than the war itself.”

  “I know that,” Scarlet said. “But Edon’s always been an imperfect place, and that didn’t stop our ancestors.”

  Fin couldn’t argue with that logic. Even in their most trying moments, nothing could stop their relatives from making babies. Though he reckoned that if everyone had had access to Kemp’s tonic way back when, everyone’s family tree would have fewer branches.

  “Do you think I would make a good dad?” Fin asked.

  “Yeah,” Scarlet said. “What about me? Would I make a great mom?”

  “I think you would,” Fin said. “But I don’t know about me being a good dad and all.”

  “Why?”

  Fin rolled over to face her. “I just can’t see myself as a father. I’ve never given it much thought, to be honest, and now that I think of it…” Fin paused and shook his head. “I’d never be able to give him enough. Enough time, enough attention. I’d screw him up for life.”

  “What makes you think that?” Scarlet said in disbelief.

  Fin shrugged. “I don’t know. A gut feeling, I guess.”

  “Well then, ignore your gut,” Scarlet said. “You’ll never know until you try.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so,” Scarlet said. “Most people don’t know what they’re doing when they have kids, and it’s just something you learn as you go along.”

  Fin opened his mouth to speak, but Scarlet cut him off.

  “If you had a child, would you love him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you’re already part of the way there.”

  Scarlet reached over and extinguished the lamp, and the room went black. She turned on her side and let Fin spoon her.

  “Knowing how much you care about me,” Scarlet said, “I know in my heart that you would be the best dad you could ever hope to be.”

  Fin’s smile returned.

  In the dark Fin’s eyes felt heavy again, while Scarlet’s warmth and heartbeat turned his anxieties to jelly. This was his favorite place in the world, next to the dragon he loved beyond what words alone could ever convey. He was truly the luckiest dragon on Edon, and the most blessed.

  “I love you,” Fin whispered into Scarlet’s ear.

  “I love you too,” she whispered back.

  Fin fell asleep to the sound of the raindrops pelting the window above their bed. The soothing rhythm continued long after his mind had stopped giving it attention, and it seemed to follow him into his dreams. Sometime during the night, the sound changed to that of water hitting a stone floor rather than a glass pane. This was accompanied by the overriding sensation one gets when they’re hanging upside down, with the blood rushing to their head. Fin opened his eyes to discover that he was indeed hanging upside down. He was no longer in the room with Scarlet but rather in something like a dungeon, the walls of which were made of thick stones that seemed to weep groundwater. A cold, stale draft wafted down from the ceiling, running down his pant legs, bathing his body in a damp chill.

  But hold on, Fin thought; he never wore pants to bed. Sure enough, though, when he looked up, Fin found that he was, in fact, wearing a pair of tattered long johns. They were stained with a dark liquid, most of it stemming from an area near where his feet had been bound to a chain that hung from the ceiling. The legs of the long johns were torn in places, revealing the teal skin of his knees, which was covered in crusty scabs.

  Huh? Fin thought. He was red and blue the last time he’d checked. But then Fin saw a charred, crescent-shaped burn mark on his exposed chest, which, after looking at it closer in the dark, was no doubt the mark of the Dragon Storm.

  He felt a burning in his feet, one that seemed to grow more intense the longer he was awake. As Fin’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, aided by a thin ray of moonlight from a metal grate above him, he found the source of his pain. A meat hook was pierced through his ankles, its barb casting a shadow on the wall behind him.

  And he knew what the dark liquid was now.

  Horrified, Fin reached up, but every movement sent lightning bolts of pain down his legs. He cried in pain, but no words came out. He thought he was about to faint, but it seemed that as long as he held still, the pain became bearable.

  A loud bang, like that of a cell door, echoed from the other end of the chamber. Fin turned to look and saw a pair of glowing red orbs high off the ground. The orbs started to approach him, accompanied by heavy footsteps. The sound of nails being dragged along the side of the rough, uneven stone drew closer with each footstep.

  “There comes a time every now and then when an individual makes himself known and attempts to alter the flow of normalcy.” The voice was cold, deep, and guttural. “When an entity such as this threatens the status quo, it is important to undermine their efforts, because they are like logs in the middle of a stream, altering the flow of the water and changing its path. It is my duty to prevent this from happening by removing the logs and thus preserving everything I’ve worked so hard to build.”

  The figure struck a match on one of the drier stones and dipped the flame into the bowl of a pipe. The figure walked into the light from the ceiling grate. He was a tall Cullidon, clad in a black cloak with claws around the collar. His face was dark, gaunt, and leathery. Thin white hair sprouted from the back of his head and flowed in locks down his neck and shoulders. And deep within the dark crevices of his head were a pair of glowing red eyes.

  The Cullidon took a drag, the orange embers glowing inside the bowl. Positioning the cup between his unusually long claws, the Cullidon removed the pipe from his lips and exhaled into Fin�
��s face. The smoke burned his eyes and tickled his throat, but he was unable to cough.

  “Good evening, Fin,” the Cullidon said. “By now you probably don’t need a formal introduction, since you already know my name. You learned it today from people I thought I could trust, but it turns out that I was wrong to hire them to do my bidding. This is not a dream, and I am communicating to you through Togo’s body, which now bears your…seal.” Rixis paused and rested a finger against Fin’s chest. “I didn’t have to think twice about where it came from, and judging from the look on his face when he and his men finally did arrive at the Diet’s steps, I could tell they had committed the gravest of sins.”

  Rixis gave the body a slight push, sending another rush of pain down Fin’s legs.

  “It goes without saying that I was quite cross when I learned that Grog had revealed my existence to you and your band of rebels, and I bet you feel pretty damn good about yourself right now. You just uncovered Edon’s best-kept secret, and I bet you cannot wait to reveal it to everyone with an ear to lend.”

  Rixis paused to take a long drag of his pipe and exhaled the smoke into Fin’s face once again.

  “But don’t hold your breath,” Rixis said, his voice deepening. He pointed at Fin with an accusatory finger. “You think you’re special, but at the end of the day, you’re just like all the other dreamers who threw themselves at the walls of Sebeth in an attempt to prove something. The only thing those fools proved is that they were no match for me, my army, my weapons, the resources and funds at my disposal. They came with their hopes and dreams, and I shattered them and scattered the pieces to the winds.”

  Rixis placed his pipe back in his mouth and circled Fin like a vulture.

  “You’re a prophet,” Rixis continued. “But does that make any difference? You’re not invincible. You’re just as vulnerable as all the so-called ‘heroes’ who died at my feet. It’s just a title with little importance, other than what you and your followers place upon it. And if you think for a second that the Elder is on your side, think again. If she’s such a compassionate deity, why doesn’t she come down from the Upper Realm and smite me herself? You’re her pawn, Fin, sent to do her dirty work, and if you so much as glance away from the path that she wants you to follow, she’ll leave you for dead and forget you ever existed.”