The Shepherd of Fire (The Soul Stone Trilogy Book 2)

by Matt Moss

  Arkin remembered the giant demon who had killed Stubbs at the Grand Highlands. He would die too. After Victor.

  Arkin shifted on the roof and raised the bow to his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them wide as he drew his focus down the weapon. His aim locked onto Victor as the priest came to a stop in the center of the steps. He was the only one in the middle. Him and the Oracle.

  The Oracle. At that moment, Arkin realized that he noted everyone in place except for one.

  His eye shifted to the east, to the building top where Vaylesh was to take a shot at her. He wasn’t there.

  “Shit,” Arkin whispered and took aim at the high priest again.

  Something wasn’t right. Arkin knew it.

  Vaylesh was supposed to be there.

  The High Priest raised his hand and removed the hood that covered his head — a stern, but slightly bemused look played across his face as he surveyed his people. The crowd’s noise lowered as the people had gathered in eager anticipation of the prophecy. Word around town was that some deal was being made between the crown and the independent cities, one that would benefit the King’s Generosity and be able to feed every mouth in Kingsport.

  “My people,” the High Priest said with outstretched arms, “we gather today to celebra…” A harrumph came from the priest as a bolt buried itself deep into his gut. He doubled over and slowly fell back against the steps as blood began to soak through his white robe.

  Before the Oracle could even scream, an explosion came from the market. A fireball rose to the sky as smoke and splinters blasted into the crowd.

  Taking advantage of the moment, Lock and Uurs pulled daggers that quickly ran red with the blood of the king’s guards. In the chaos of it all, the stunned guards began piercing anyone who stood in front of them, too paranoid of the crowd and their reputation. Screams and curses rose.

  So did the mob’s rage.

  The scene was all too familiar to the capital. Many fled, or tried to flee, but the majority were swept up in the brawl between themselves and the guards. The palace steps quickly became choked up as both the guards and the mob surged against one another.

  Arkin saw Rico desperately fighting his way to break through the front, wondering why he hadn’t soul tapped yet.

  Cursing himself for aiming at Victor’s chest instead of his head to make up for the angle of the shot, he thought of jumping from the roof to join the fray. Finding no open ground below, he took a few steps back, focused his energy into a tap and exploded from the roof. He leapt over the crowd with sword in hand and landed on the palace steps, instantly met by an onrush of guards. A spear point grazed his cheek, drawing a thin red line as he ducked the flash of the weapon. The guard’s arm left his body with a blinding cut and Arkin took the spear before spinning away from a violent slash.

  The spear spun and slashed alongside his sword, creating space between himself and the group of armored men. His motions quick, and beyond anything the guards had ever encountered, cut through the guards and made the steps wet with blood. He felt a sudden, blunt pain as a guard threw a sword that struck him hilt first on the hip. By reflex, Arkin launched the spear at the guard with savage force that broke through armor and bone, impaling the man and sending him flying backwards. Spears weren’t much against plate anyway. He pulled his other bastard sword — thick and heavy — perfect for killing an armored man in close combat.

  Both blades tore the guards apart as he ducked and dodged their attacks. As bodies flew and fell around him, his eye caught Karn walking down the steps to meet him. Arkin grit his teeth, knowing that he had to get to Victor, now. With the guards still swarming, Arkin dropped both swords and crouched, narrowly missing a sword edge in doing so. Kneeling with a fist on the ground, he tapped further. A war cry came from somewhere within him and a blast of energy sent his attackers flying in all directions. He surged towards Victor.

  The dagger was in his hand, ready to send the priest to hell. Victor’s glossy eyes widened as he saw Arkin surge towards him. Like running into a brick wall, something stopped Arkin in his tracks and sent him flying backwards. After shaking off the blow, he jumped back to his feet and found Karn grinning with a mouthful of pointed teeth.

  In a blur, two throwing knives left Arkin’s hands and flew towards the giant. Karn caught both as if it were child’s play and tossed them aside as he stepped towards Arkin. Fearless and determined to finish the job, Arkin pulled two more blades and charged.

  “Arkin, don’t!” Rico called and bashed into Karn at incredible speed, sending the giant rolling across the steps. Guards began to swarm them again, forcing both Arkin and Rico to fight for their lives. Back to back, they held their ground against the onslaught and sent bodies rolling. They fought on while pressing towards Victor, who had been crawling away to the safety of the palace, relying on the Oracle’s help to save him as she struggled to pull him away.

  Rico’s blade stopped whirring the moment it met Karn’s. The two men stood locked against each other for a moment until Rico spun away, slashing, and sending two more bodies down the steps. Karn attacked, and the two engaged at blinding speeds. Rico moved like nothing Arkin had ever seen, fluent and effortless. In a blink, Rico drew a roar from Karn as one of his blades found an opening in the armor and cut across the giant’s hamstring. Karn threw a backhand in return that caught Rico by surprise and sent him crashing into the mob.

  Seeing an opportunity, Arkin picked up a nearby spear and launched it at Karn. Karn grunted as it lodged into his shoulder, the force spinning him around and driving the giant to his knees. Karn reached up and pulled the rest of the shaft through his shoulder. He stood with the blood covered spear in hand, turned, and glared at Arkin. The giant let the spear fall to the steps and charged towards him with a yell. The hateful, demonic cry was enough to make a brave man freeze with fear. Arkin adjusted his stance, ready to sidestep the charge and sweep the legs. With any luck, he would find himself on top of the giant with blade in hand. That thought vanished as Karn, quicker than Arkin expected, surged at the last moment. Upon impact, Arkin’s world instantly went black.

  The void. Arkin remembered it well. It last met him on the road to the Grand Highlands. Bandits had jumped him and during the attack, one had crashed into Arkin, sending him to this place of darkness. Last time, Arkin knew nothing but darkness. And cold. But this time it was different. A glimmer of light could be seen in the distance. Or it could have been directly in front of him as it was hard to judge depth or distance in the void. He reached for it as it seemed to call him with its soft glow. Who are you? Why are you here?

  Arkin moved his lips in reply, but before he could answer, he awoke to find Karn standing over him, an evil sneer on his face.

  “Finish him!” Victor cried, his voice pained and hoarse.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Arkin saw Rico fighting the onslaught of guards on the steps. The mob began to push forward, fighting alongside him against the guards. Arkin looked up and noticed the High Priest neared the top of the steps. Victor’s eyes turned solid white and energy radiated from his body. The bolt pushed out of his stomach and fell on the steps. Within moments, Victor stood, miraculously healed.

  What the… Arkin thought, never before witnessing such a power.

  Karn picked Arkin up by the neck, raising him in front of his face. Arkin threw a straining hand out and gripped Karn’s throat, but it was no use. The giant just grinned at him, mouth open wide with rot on his breath. Arkin kicked and squirmed against the hold, but it was futile. In a desperate attempt, he pulled his last dagger. Karn caught his hand and squeezed, breaking the bones in Arkin’s hand. Arkin would have screamed from the pain if he could.

  He felt the life drain from him as the darkness crept over his eyes. He was going back to the void, and a part of him didn’t mind. In a strange way, part of him liked it there.

  Suddenly, a blinding orb of light appeared out of the corner of his eye. He had heard stories of people seeing a light b
efore death. Now, he knew he would join them for sure, but wouldn’t live to tell the tale like the others had. The light grew brighter until it filled his entire vision.

  The last convulsion for air came and went. Arkin’s last thought was how the tears felt tracing down his cheeks. He found that odd. The sounds of battle slowly faded into a dull buzzing sound until all he could hear was the beating of his heart. Slower it thumped in his ears, strong at first, but fleeting with every beat. He fell into the pace of it and let the darkness take him back to the void. It didn’t hurt there.

  Then, he hit the ground and a rush of air filled his lungs as he was set free. He gasped for breath on the steps, taking in small amounts of precious life, confused as to why he was alive. His eyes began to blur, making out the figure of Karn in front of him. Focusing, he noticed a mystical force twisting the giant’s arm awkwardly, snapping the bones within, causing Karn to cry out in pain. The force then shattered the giant’s legs, driving him to his knees. Karn’s face was pure terror with his eyes wide in horror, and filling with blood from the strain.

  Arkin, still gasping but able to draw more air with each breath, was in disbelief. He found the source of the light — a man standing in between him and Victor. The man held tightly to a staff in front of him with both hands, concentrating the force outward, his clothes and hair blowing wildly as the energy surged. At last, a rippling concussion of sound blew through the capital, the power sending nearby guards and Karn flying into the city streets, crashing into buildings and trees.

  Victor’s jaw was dropped in disbelief. “Moses!” he exclaimed in an awed reverence.

  Moses tapped the staff down, hard, sending an aftershock through the capital before his energy leveled out, the light from him fading away to reveal an older man with white hair. Without a word, he walked to meet Arkin as he lay on the steps. Rico appeared at Arkin’s side and picked him up, cradling Arkin in his arms. Arkin yelped in pain from the broken ribs Karn had delivered when they collided. Moses led them down the steps towards the stunned mob. The old man walked steady, daring the people to test him. The townsfolk parted and created a path as Moses stepped around the bodies that lie scattered about. Uurs, bloody and limping, met them on the street. He nodded that he was well enough to leave. When Rico asked of Lock, the Faceless man shook his head. He shrugged when asked about Hoss and Neptune.

  They walked unchallenged all the way to the stables. Everyone regarded them with astonishment, as if they’d seen some supernatural being from another world. Through the fog of pain, Arkin couldn’t tell if they conveyed reverence, curiosity, or fear.

  Rico gently placed Arkin across the mare’s back. Rico, Uurs, and the old man named Moses mounted up, and rode away from Kingsport, heading east, straight into the late morning sun.

  The townsfolk cared for the dead and wounded. They gathered among the steps and filled the capital streets in front of the palace, seeking answers from the two people in whom they placed their trust.

  High Priest Victor, poised with the Oracle to his side, addressed the crowd with raised hands.

  He stripped his blood-stained robe and cast it upon the steps, leaving his freshly scarred body now healed and visible to everyone. “The Almighty preserves me yet again!” he shouted, his voice clear and bright once again, no longer distorted. “It is His will that I become His hand of justice in this world of darkness.”

  “You said the Order was gone and this wouldn’t happen again,” a man from the crowd shouted. “You promised us.”

  Others in the crowd murmured their agreement before raising their voices.

  The Oracle stepped to Victor’s defense. “We must not be faint of heart. Our king will lead us out of the darkness and into the light.”

  “Shove off, you lying bitch!” a man from the street said. No sooner than he spoke the words, Victor outstretched an arm. The man levitated up the steps with a look of terror, hands grasping around his constricted throat, straining for air. Victor set him down in front of the Oracle. “Nobody talks to her that way. Beg for her forgiveness.”

  With eyes bulging and all blood quickly fading from his face, the man’s lips moved the words, ‘mercy’.

  Sarie looked at Victor and nodded, satisfied with the man’s apology.

  With a dropped hand, Victor released the man. He gasped for air and began to grovel at the Oracle’s feet.

  “Stand,” Victor commanded. As the man stood, Victor pulled a stone — glowing purple and black — from the pocket in his white trousers. His fist tightened, shattering the stone into countless tiny shards. He walked to the shaking, stunned man and pressed a shard onto his forehead. It seared into his skull, cauterizing the skin at the same time.

  “Flesh of my flesh,” Victor said, blessing him. His hands guided the man to return to the crowd.

  The people stood in awe as the man rejoined them, stumbling and in shock, feeling the outline of the shard on his head.

  “This is how we bring light unto the world. Together, with the power of the stone that God has blessed me with, we will all share the same eyes, the same ears. We are meant to be as one. No more will the evil of this world infiltrate our hearts and our minds. No more death, no more suffering.” He outstretched his hand, allowing everyone to see the glowing fragments. “This is the road to everything we’ve ever wanted — freedom, security, stability, and prosperity for all.”

  “What kind of madness is this? What are you saying?” a woman shouted among the crowd.

  The Oracle spoke. “We have put our faith and trust in our king, Victor. He is also our spiritual leader in the Religion. This step of faith is a small requirement that is asked of you.”

  “And if we refuse?” a bald man, bloodied from the brawl, stated and stepped forward. Voices throughout the crowd sounded their agreement with him.

  “Then let me give you certain hope,” the Oracle replied. “I have foreseen this in a vision. This is the only way that we bring the independent cities together and unite the kingdom.”

  “Ha!” the man replied. “The cities will never bow or relinquish their independence. You of all people should know that.”

  The Oracle raised her arms. “I have already prophesied the destruction of Greenehaven if they do not succumb to the king’s demand. It may have already come to pass.”

  The bald man shook his head and spat. “This is shit, and I’m not buying,” he said, turned, and began to walk away. Others joined him, and it seemed as if the crowd had heard enough. “C’mon everyone, shows over,” the man said, leading the townsfolk. He came to a stop when he ran into Karn, the king’s general. The giant stood over him, bloodied and broken, glaring down with blood red eyes. The man’s gaze went to the bones that protruded from the giant’s arms and legs, and his face twisted in confused horror at the sight. Karn shoved him back towards the steps, causing him to fall in the street in front of the palace. Those who were preparing to leave, turned back to the palace.

  “You have seen the power that the Almighty has given me,” Victor spoke. “Come to me and receive protection.”

  “What about the ones who attacked today? How will you protect us from them?” a man cried.

  “By uniting the people and destroying all those who oppose the Religion,” Victor replied. “But it will take all of us working together. By taking this leap of faith, we will become one.”

  A woman came forward, earnestly climbing the steps. She crawled to his feet.

  “Bless you, my daughter,” he said and pressed a shard onto her head.

  She joyously moaned as her flesh burned. She rose shouting, “Praise be to the hand of the Almighty!”

  “Blessed be the meek, for they shall come to me and find favor,” Victor preached as he blessed another follower who willingly came.

  A few more came forward to receive the mark, but most remained cautiously reserved. After Victor blessed the last one to come willingly, he looked at the crowd pitifully. “Need I say that this is a requirement of the King’s Generosit
y?” he stated.

  With that, the people gave into his will. Men, women, and children lined up to receive the stone shard — the mark of the Religion.

  “This is how we will discern who is part of the Religion and who is heretic!” Victor stated as he blessed a child with the mark. The girl looked up, unafraid and with absolute faith emanating from her eyes.

  The Oracle looked on in awe as each person, one-by-one, took the mark.

  From a building top, Lucian took the whole sight in. He had arrived just as Victor fell from the attack. He witnessed the power of Moses on the palace steps. He saw Moses and the group of men leave, and he saw the fear in the people’s eyes.

  He saw the power that Victor had over the people as each one willingly gave their life to the Religion.

  And he saw Sarie and how she tried to keep her body from trembling as she witnessed the power that one man could have over so many.

  SEVENTEEN

  Over the course of a couple weeks, the camp had slowly adjusted to their new life. It held less commodities than the Grand Highlands, but many of the folk knew it could be worse. For the most part, everyone’s needs were met despite the lack of proper housing or the comforts of home. They had food, water, and shelter — the basic necessities for survival. More importantly, though, they had each other.

  That was the thought Lyla had as she tended the new garden. The blisters on her hands were already calloused from tilling the earth, and the tools stained from blood, sweat, and dirt. Her father once taught her that there were fewer things in life that were better than a hard day’s work, and that had stuck with her from childhood. She worked diligently in knowing that the spring sowing would be over in a few more days and her spirit rose knowing that, in fall, there would be an ample supply of food. She took a break, leaned on the hoe, and wiped the sweat from her brow as she stole a quick glance at the midday sun.