Rise Of The Soulless: Book Four of the Hand of Perdition by Erik Lynd

Author:Erik Lynd
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Broken Gods Press
Published: 2018-07-09T21:00:00+00:00

14

Apophis stood just above the hole in the sand while his brothers finished sealing it up. It was hot despite the early hour, the sun just up over the horizon, but they didn’t sweat; the heat did not touch them. Wind whipped through their clothes, cracking the cloth in violent fits. Tiny grits of sand flew at them like the driest of all hail.

Apophis surveyed the hole, now no more than a dent in the sand. This would hold him, maybe forever. If not, he would at least suffer in the darkness for millennia just Apophis had. He would understand what prison really was. Just as he condemned others to the eternal darkness of Hell, this was to be his damnation. Yes, this was more satisfying than a simple death. And they even had a prize.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the folded knife. He could feel the power inside it even if he couldn’t access it. The Weapon of the Hunter, of the Beast, of the Gate Keeper of Hell, the legendary First Weapon. Its power was vast.

He couldn’t force it to serve him, not yet anyway, but they had time. Time to test it, to find its weakness, to shape the weapon just for him. All they had was time. The question really was, what to do with all this time?

They were masterless, and this was not right. They needed a master, someone to give them purpose. Their vengeance done, they now craved a purpose. Without one, they were a ship without a rudder.

For the last few days, Apophis had been feeling something. They had ignored it to focus on the vengeance at hand. But now, now he reached out to it, searched it with his mind. He knew he didn’t have a soul, they were not weak mortals spewed at random from some woman’s thighs. They were lovingly constructed, with purpose, with beauty. They were the First Bleeders and stealers of lives. They had no mortal coil dragging them down.

No, he did not reach out with his soul, but with his mind and he could see it. Far across the sand and mountains, far across the fields of grass waving in the wind, far beyond the great ocean and its crashing waves. He could see it, the only beacon they had in this time of lost purpose and wandering.

It was the rock that had sealed their prison. Someone had taken it. Whoever had unwittingly released them had the stone, and they might know what power it contained. They knew its value, but nothing of the First Bleeders slumbering beyond. This interested Apophis. To know the value of that stone was to know secrets long since dead to the world above. Whoever wanted that stone might be a worthy master.

They could see it there, over the vast distance. They would be drawn to it. Yes, that was their purpose now. Find the stone and its master and decide if he was good enough to be the master of Apophis.

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