The Absence of Soul by Amanda Twigg

Author:Amanda Twigg [Twigg, Amanda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-04-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

As dark swirls formed between the two arching elba trees, the image broke apart. Landra’s actions, viewpoint, and emotional pain became entirely her own again.

Part of her railed against the fracturing reality, and she longed for its return. The promise of a magical vortex felt like a wonderful dream, stopping short of its climax. She recalled the rich colors, sweet sounds, excitement, and pain. Now, the gurgling dregs of a depleted power well, hard wood beneath her body, and a dying man in her arms became her truth. She felt deafened by something that was missing. The world felt empty and thin, like there was an absence of Soul.

Her shoulders heaved with grief and emptiness, but there was more pain here than a lost fantasy. This was betrayal. Utter betrayal. The broken Templer promises wrenched her guts. She’d grown up knowing of the exiling, but to experience the moment of separation hurt beyond reason. This was personal. Her great-grandmother had promised to return. Now, Landra carried the entire resentment of Warrior-kind in her heart. She resented Meftah for her good intentions, her lies, and her magic.

Yes, great-grandmother, I blame you for my flaw too.

Pink strands of mist, which had congregated around the Collector, broke loose and drifted free. They gathered beneath the underside of the spiraling path. Had her great-grandfather left with them?

“Chief Gallanto?”

“Find a way, child of my life,” the ghost chief replied, and then his presence thinned out of existence.

Hey, wait. Find a way to do what? You can’t leave me with that.

No answer came.

Shelk!

She wanted to reach for him again, but Oakham’s slipping hand dragged her back to reality. The old soldier slumped against her body, flaccid and scrunched with his head lolling to one side. She felt his rattling breaths on her chest.

“Oakham?” she said, giving him a gentle shake.

His kaleidoscope aura swirled slower now, fluttering weakly at the edge of her blue Soul. A single breath escaped from his gaping mouth.

No, no, no! Don’t die.

“Don’t do this,” she said, rolling him away and settling him on the wooden path. She removed her jacket and folded it under his head for support. The sight of his sunken features hit Landra like one of her father’s fists. His skin was grey, but his aura was greyer now, and its swirling slowed with each passing moment.

“Soldier Oakham!”

He cracked his eyes open to slits and turned his weary, blind eyes to her face. Rasping punctuated each of his ragged breaths. “Did you see?” he asked.

Landra hesitated, not wanting to share her experience.

But this is a dying man’s last wish. He deserves an answer. “Yes.”

“Ah!” Oakham breathed, and his body relaxed. “That was the last… We were supposed…”

She cradled his hand in her lap and stroked the thin skin. “It’s time to rest, soldier. We’ll sit awhile. Then I’ll carry you up to the platform and call for transport. You’ll feel more comfortable in the medic barracks.”

“No, dear! Leave me here. I’ll not desert my post now. This is where I…”

He stilled, as if the energy to speak had departed.

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