The Contracted Soul

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The Contracted Soul Page 1

by Luke Antony Baker




  The Contracted Soul:

  A Tale from the Myst City Chronicles

  Luke Antony Baker

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  © Copyright 2012 Luke Antony Baker.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  isbn: 978-1-4669-0866-6 (sc)

  isbn: 978-1-4669-0865-9 (hc)

  isbn: 978-1-4669-0867-3 (e)

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2011962837

  Trafford rev. 01/10/2012

  www.trafford.com

  North America & international

  toll-free: 1 888 232 4444 (USA & Canada)

  phone: 250 383 6864 ♦ fax: 812 355 4082

  Contents

  PROLOGUE

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY ONE

  TWENTY TWO

  TWENTY THREE

  TWENTY FOUR

  TWENTY FIVE

  TWENTY SIX

  TWENTY SEVEN

  TWENTY EIGHT

  TWENTY NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY ONE

  THIRTY TWO

  THIRTY THREE

  THIRTY FOUR

  THIRTY FIVE

  THIRTY SIX

  THIRTY SEVEN

  THIRTY EIGHT

  THIRTY NINE

  FOURTY

  FOURTY ONE

  FOURTY TWO

  FOURTY THREE

  FOURTY FOUR

  FOURTY FIVE

  EPILOGUE

  PROLOGUE

  The land of Turbulus is a land rich in history: the legends of the founders, the wars that sha1ped the land, and various ancient curiosities. These stories and others are buried in the archives of the greatest wizards and historians in the land. The royal library in Myst City is the richest of these.

  This is a story of sorcery, war, betrayal, chaos, destiny, and a great journey in the darkest of times.

  Our prelude begins with the formation of the Grand Alliance. The armies of Sunrise City, Myst City, Darkwoods Outpost and Plateau City were the sworn defenders of the Capital, home of the royal family. This union of the land’s greatest powers was a result of the great threat from the forces of darkness.

  There existed a great evil in the lands, Zuul, the demon considered the overture of an apocalypse. She waged a savage war raged across the land for decades. Massacres and savagery claimed countless souls.

  Zuul was searching for those chosen by destiny to be the mystic keys. These keys were powerful sorcerers. They were five in number. Once the souls of these five keys were assembled in the Temple of Destiny, they could open The Arcane Gate, the entrance to the sacred altar, a hallowed temple said to house the powers of the gods. This altar would bestow upon the one who asked a wish of whatever he or she desired.

  The gate had been closed eons ago by the combined power of the gods, and only prophets could open it. The Temple of Destiny eventually fell under Zuul’s control and became known as the Temple of the Damned.

  With her almighty power she created the seven demon lords. They were the demonic embodiment of man’s greatest sins, culled from the underworld itself. With these demons she assembled an army to conquer Turbulus.

  Towns were razed, peoples massacred, and the land itself was dying. The Grand Alliance suffered one massive defeat after the other until they made their stand on The Great Fields; however for reasons unknown Darkwoods Outpost had deserted the Grand Alliance in its hour of need. The second-in-command to Zuul, Wrath; the embodiment of anger and hatred stood firm as General of Zuul’s armies.

  Zuul herself sat on her throne on the cliffs above the battle to watch it unfold. She reveled in the suffering of others and quenched her sadistic nature during what would later be known as the Twilight Wars. She relished the day she would open the Arcane Gate and gain infinite power and immortality.

  The armies of the Grand Alliance had discovered the identities of the keys to the Arcane Gate—the ancient prophets’ latest incarnations and had hidden them in safety. Zuul, infuriated, had waged a genocidal war against the Grand Alliance vowing not to stop until they surrendered the sages to her.

  What began as a skirmish on the Great Plains had escalated far beyond what either side had expected; all armies were assembled on these fields for what would be the final battle to decide the fate of Turbulus. Wrath and the other six demonic embodiments stood on one side with their grotesque legions and the Grand Alliance stood on the other.

  The snarling beasts and abominations of Zuul’s army would have terrified even the bravest of men. The hulking ogres, trolls and golems stood on one side, surrounded by goblins, zombies, and the other beasts, all of them Zuul’s recruits.

  The other side, humans, elves, and dark elves stood in formation willing to defend the land with their very lives. Their matching bronze armor and weapons readied, they stood in formation beneath the banners of their three armies. Almost to signal the start of battle, a mighty storm gathered overhead, a torrent of rain soon followed. The Grand Commander of the Alliance, Laru stood at the forefront. With paired horn blasts from Wrath and Laru, the battle began.

  Laru, was the mightiest soldier the Grand Alliance had at their disposal. Even though he was secretly the prophet of light, he refused to be hidden away from Zuul and chose to confront her as the Commander of the Grand Alliance.

  The bloody battle raged on for hours, neither side yielding. The sorcerers of the Grand Alliance had sealed away in stone the Demon Lords, all but two of the demonic tyrants—Wrath and Zuul, the most powerful. Seeing the battle unfolding and the Grand Alliance gaining control, Zuul stepped into the fray.

  Her hulking form clad in the darkest of armor, she stomped slowly through the battle, the conflict stopping to a hush as she walked.

  The lines of soldiers of the Grand Alliance swarmed Zuul; only to be knocked back effortlessly with powerful black magic, vaporized. Zuul, holding a deathly blade above her head cast a tremendous summoning spell on the soldiers, their charred remains rose to serve her as mindless zombies.

  The sorcerers of the Grand Alliance once again stepped in, they failed to seal Zuul; she was far too strong. With the enchanted relic, the Spear of Destiny, rumored to kill even demons, a paladin, took her by surprise, impaling her spine, before being knocked back with a fatal blow. Taking advantage of this opportunity, Laru with his holy sword cast a mighty magical array around the beast.

  The length of the spear was buried in her tainted gut. Foul, black blood streamed down the length of the weapon as Zuul twisted and tugged the piercing spike. Zuul, after relentless struggling managed to snap the spearhead off to remove the pole. She lay helpless under the containment spell aro
und her.

  The demon crackled and shook, seeing their opportunity to seal her; the sorcerers of the Grand Alliance opened Pandora’s Box, a powerful relic of confinement. However, Zuul’s power was too great to be contained, so Laru siphoned it to be contained in a trusted guardian. Now weakened by this spell, Pandora’s Box could then contain the beast’s spirit; her immortal body was banished to the pit.

  It is said that Zuul still remains chained up in the pits of the underworld, awaiting her release to continue her unholy campaign for infinite power.

  The battle tapered off after that, the demon lord Wrath retreated with his dwindling army to the Temple of the Damned. Zuul’s armies had been defeated. Pandora’s Box was entrusted to the Grand Inquisitor, an ancient wizard, who concealed it somewhere in Turbulus.

  For a while there was peace, until Wrath, the surviving demon lord revived his brethren from their prison as statues, restoring their life. However, their faith in Zuul was broken, and their powers only a fraction of what they once were. They remained divided, squabbling over leadership, awaiting Zuul’s return.

  The demon lords still conquered territories separately, but they weren’t as strong as before when united under Zuul. Wrath assumed Zuul’s role as leader and a few of the demons followed him, inspired by their own selfish goals, though many of them remained divided.

  Upon learning of Pandora’s Box, Wrath set out to find it. Once he heard the legend of Zuul’s great power being contained in the guardian’s bloodline, he scoured the land to discover them. If he could do so, he could restore his mistress’ power once she was reborn.

  The Grand Inquisitor kept Pandora’s Box hidden from everyone, concealing it away forever.

  For over a century Wrath searched, waiting for the chance to revive his mistress. As his campaign failed, life in Turbulus returned to something approaching peace. As the centuries passed, Wrath was beginning to lose hope he would ever revive Zuul and could only wait for one of the guardian’s bloodline to be discovered

  ONE

  Crack! A stick broke as the deer sped through the tangled thicket of twisted, bare trees in Heartless Swamp. The green mist that clung to the trees gave off a foul stench as if from a sewer.

  Lady Crow, a sorceress of the dark arts, resided in her run-down cabin tucked away in this gloomy cesspool. She had instructed her two pupils to seek out and catch a deer for dinner without weapons.

  This may be an impossible task for most, but these two boys were apprentices of the dark arts and had an arsenal of tricks up their sleeves.

  The two apprentices, Umbra and Micah, sped after the deer; they evaded claw-like branches and dodged roots with great skill. The air was heavy and humid. Their black cloaks flowed behind them like dark shadows; they were gaining on their prey as it rustled through the brush.

  On top of being apprentices to Lady Crow, Umbra and Micah were also rivals. Today’s exercise was no different from the other grueling competitions they were often assigned. Only the one able to catch the speeding deer was granted dinner with their teacher; the loser would be forced sit in silence and watch them consume the meal to motivate them the next day’s challenge; feeding only on the scraps.

  Umbra, easily the more gifted of the two was almost within arm’s reach of the deer. Micah was nearly neck and neck with him as they locked onto their quarry.

  “Ahh!” Micah yelped as he caught a sharpened tree branch, which carved straight through his cheek. Eyes scrunched in pain, he did not see the massive wall of a tree and ran smack into it with a loud, wet thump.

  Umbra, not realizing and completely focused on his target reached into his cloak pocket to extract a small glass vial filled with goat blood. He popped the cap and then dipped his finger into the blood-filled vial, swirling it around thoroughly before removing it.

  Using his bloodied finger he sketched a small circular symbol on the palm of his hand. He stamped his hand on his forehead and began to whisper an incantation under his breath. All the while he maintained his pursuit, dodging the winding thicket effortlessly.

  He stopped dead in his tracks, kicking up mud, and quickly smacked his palm on the nearest tree. The markings on his forehead lit up in glowing crimson, illuminating the damp wood around him. Suddenly the swamp floor began to rumble under his feet; instantly a sharp spear of a tree root shot up from the moist earth and pierced cleanly through the deer’s neck!

  The deer frozen in horror, dropped lifelessly to the ground as the root dissolved. Micah returned to the fray only to witness his defeat.

  “Damn! You win again Umbra,” Micah moaned smacking his fist on the nearest slime-caked tree as he bent over to catch his breath. Umbra turned to face him with a cheeky smile on his face, the symbol on his forehead fading away to nothing. The two apprentices were hunched over now as they caught their breath. Micah wiped his bleeding cheek.

  “You’re still sneaking me some of that food, right?” he inquired turning his head to Umbra with a mischievous grin.

  “Of course, you would have starved to death long ago if I hadn’t been,” Umbra jested, returning the smile. The two groaned as they dragged the limp carcass back through the mud, lifting it over the shrubs and down the arduous trail towards Lady Crow’s house.

  The walk was long, through swampy ground plagued with dead, twisted trees. The stench of the green fog no longer bothered the two apprentices since they had spent over a year in this swamp.

  It was a wonder how anything even lived in this hellhole, every step your foot would sink in the muck, every time you passed a tree you would snag yourself on a sharp branch. The land itself seemed to stew in perpetual despair.

  “So how do you think we’ll eat this deer?” Micah inquired with a grunt, as they stumbled southerly across through wetland towards the house.

  There was an evil set of yellow eyes glaring menacingly from the nearby marsh. The creature raised its head out of the water to reveal a vine-entangled, slime covered figure—a mire beast! A grotesque combination of hulking ogre, tangled vines and muck, the mire beast raised its filthy head out of the marsh and stared hungrily at the two young necromancers.

  “Crap!” shrieked Micah. The two ragged and exhausted apprentices gawked at each other, exchanging expressions of terror.

  “We can’t come back empty-handed! This thing isn’t taking our deer!” Micah asserted, masking his fatigue. The two of them dropped their prize and stood back-to-back in a defensive stance as the mire beast stepped out onto the banks of the marsh and shambled closer to them.

  The entangled vines covering the beast pulsed like veins, muck dripping as it moved. The two apprentices saw spattered blood around the creature’s lips and knew it had just fed.

  “Have any ideas?” Umbra whispered to Micah.

  “Just follow my lead!” Micah replied, reaching deep into his pockets to extract a small sachet of salt. Umbra in turn did the same. “Flash, bang and then we run for it!”

  A simple enough spell, it would momentarily blind the beast. They could then grab the deer and flee. Micah and Umbra nodded to each other. They poured themselves a small handful of salt from a sachet they kept handy and began whispering identical chants under their breath. The salt lit up in their hands as they prepared to pelt the mire beast.

  “Take that!” yelled Umbra, as he and Micah tossed the salt. The salt popped loudly on contact with the beast’s slimy, root-tangled body as a thick white smoke veiled its head.

  “Run!” Umbra cried out as he and Micah each grabbed an end of the deer and raised the animal above their heads. Adrenaline kicking in once more, they fled towards the trees. After only a few feet, Micah lost his boot in the mud, tumbling over. Umbra, too stumbled, dropping the deer. Closing in behind them was an extremely aggravated mire beast!

  Seeing no chance to run, Umbra called upon his dark powers, hurling a bolt of shadow magic at his a
ggressor. The bolt knocked the creature off balance just as it was within reach of Micah with its muddy, clawed hands. Micah frantically continued pulling his foot free as Umbra kept the beast’s attention.

  As the beast inched closer, its forehead singed from Umbra’s last attack, the apprentice looked around frantically for a way to topple this adversary. That’s when he saw the deer they had been carrying. He closed his eyes, focusing his power for a moment, casting a black stream of magic towards the dead deer, surrounding it. Umbra swung his hand in a whipping motion; the deer’s bones were pulled from its body and flung as sharpened projectiles at the mire beast.

  The mire beast froze for a moment, hundreds of bone fragments piercing its body, before collapsing lifelessly into the swamp.

  “Umbra, you saved me. Again,” Micah panted, having finally freed his foot from the muck.

  “I think I ruined the deer though,” Umbra groaned. The carcass was shredded to pieces. “Unless…” Umbra continued thoughtfully.

  “No, Umbra, we can’t eat the mire beast, now that’s just disgusting!” Micah interjected.

  “I guess we can make deer soup,” Umbra snickered.

  Micah laughed as they gathered up the pieces and continued home.

  “She is going to chew us out over this,” Umbra sighed. He and Lady Crow were always arguing, Micah wondered what kept them from killing each other sometimes.

  “Sure she’s tough as nails and a self-centered troll, but she is a good teacher, I feel stronger and faster every day thanks to her training,” Micah assured him. “It will be worth it in the end when I can leave here as a great sorcerer.” He added, looking thoughtfully to the clouded sky as he spoke.

  He had always been the softer, more understanding of the two and always kept Umbra’s bad temper in check. Their motivations were very different: Umbra’s for power to help serve his own personal needs; and Micah’s was power to help others. Despite their contrary personalities, they got along very well.

 

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