SoulQuest

by Percival Constantine

  “Really? The greatest?” asked Ekala, slyly grinning. “That’s actually pretty pathetic.”

  Jeske’s blood boiled and he came at her with even more ferocity. She managed to dodge most strikes, but his rage only seemed to grow and fuel his strength ever more. Zarim intervened in much the same way, attacking Jeske from behind while his attention was diverted by Ekala.

  Nasam held out his hand, his fingers straining. Red energy began to swirl around his palm and the air around his hand became distorted by heat waves. A small spark formed, growing into a larger sphere of fire, and Nasam recoiled as if firing a gun. The flaming ball flew, colliding with Jeske, enveloping the assassin and driving him back.

  “Got any more tricks like that?” asked Zarim. “Because without weapons, we’re gonna need them.”

  “I dare not use too much magic, because it will make it difficult to return,” said Nasam. “And if you want weapons, why don’t you just make them?”

  “What?” asked Ekala.

  “The normal rules of reality do not apply to the Netherealm,” said Nasam. “We are not physically here. The energy of your souls determines your strength. You need only channel that power in a familiar way.”

  “In other words, we have to think our weapons into existence?” asked Zarim.

  “That’s one way of putting it, yes,” said Nasam. “But hurry, we’re running low on time!”

  Zarim reached down once more and imagined his sword being there, Surprisingly, he found his hand resting on the hilt. He smiled and drew the blade, pointing it at Jeske. “Now we’re talking! C’mon tall, pale and ugly, let’s finish this!”

  Jeske’s clothing and flesh were charred, but the flame of Nasam’s magic no longer lingered. “Oh trust me, I will!”

  Jeske charged. He thrust forward and Zarim deflected one gauntlet blade with his sword. Zarim’s sword moved again, clanging against the second blade. Zarim spun away and Ekala’s boomerang struck Jeske’s head. The assassin went for her and Ekala used throwing knives to try and keep him at bay. But Jeske was too fast, capable of either dodging or deflecting each blade. He crossed his arm in front of his torso, slicing into Ekala’s chest.

  “NO!”

  Zarim leapt, raising his sword and bringing it down in a stabbing motion. Jeske slashed over his head, knocking the sword and Zarim away. The pirate hit the ground and rolled a bit. He reached for his fallen sword, but Jeske’s foot fell atop the blade. Jeske stared down at Zarim, his eyes taking a perverted joy in the situation. Slowly, he raised the gauntlet.

  “Finally...I will be free of you...”

  Zarim concentrated on his free hand, closing his eyes. He could feel it forming, but not quick enough. Jeske’s arm came towards him, the blade inching ever closer. Then, Zarim threw his own hand forward and...

  Bang!

  Jeske’s body froze, a bullet hole in his chest. His arm dropped to the side and he fell to his knees. Zarim’s hand now held his pistol, and smoke circled from the barrel. He stood and placed the barrel against Jeske’s head and pulled the trigger. Another bang and Jeske’s body hit the ground. His veins glowed beneath his skin, and that faint blue illumination now expanded across his entire body. The glow became brighter and brighter, almost blinding them. Once it faded, Jeske was gone.

  Zarim went over to Ekala’s side. Her veins were beginning to glow beneath her skin as well. “What the hell happened to Jeske? What’s happening to Ekala?”

  Nasam approached, placing his hand on Ekala’s head and closing his eyes, whispering some words in a language Zarim couldn’t even begin to understand. When he opened his eyes, he said, “she’s dying.”

  “How can she die? We’re in the realm of the dead!”

  “Her soul has been damaged, the energy is leaking. That’s what happened with your pale friend,” said Nasam.

  “Well do something! She came here to rescue me, not to die herself!”

  “We must return to our bodies, now,” said Nasam. “Restoring her soul to her body could stop the process.”

  “Do it!”

  Nasam nodded and clutched the pendant around Ekala’s neck. The glow from the gem had become faint. He concentrated, muttering some words and the red glow expanded to her body, taking her away from the Netherealm.

  “Did it work?” asked Zarim.

  “I won’t know until I return, but first the Soulstone,” said Nasam. “It’s important you do exactly as I say.”

  Zarim nodded. “Right, of course. Just tell me what to do.”

  “Pick it up,” said Nasam.

  Zarim went to the altar and wrapped his hands around the Soulstone. He raised it from its podium. “Okay, now what?”

  “I want you to picture all five stones coming together. Close your eyes and think of the four-pointed star. A Soulstone on each end with the fifth one in the center.”

  Zarim focused, closing his eyes and thinking on the star. He pictured it in his mind’s eye, remembering how it looked both at the cathedral in Serenity and the temple in Xanadar. Just as he had before, Zarim could feel the stone’s power coursing through his body, permeating every aspect of it. He could feel its power being open to his use.

  “Do you feel it?” asked Nasam.

  “Y-yeah, I do...”

  “Use it!” said Nasam. “The Soulstone wants to return to its brothers! Let it!”

  And with that, Zarim and the Soulstone vanished in a burst of green energy. Nasam clutched his own pendant and muttered the same incantation he used to send Ekala back. And when he opened his eyes, he found that he, too, was now back. He jerked up with a start, surprising Templar.

  “I see you’ve managed to make it back,” he said.

  “Ekala, is she still...?”

  Templar squinted. “What are you talking about? She’s exactly as she was when you both went into that trance.”

  Nasam immediately moved to Ekala’s unconscious body. He wasn’t sure if her soul was intact enough to survive the journey. He placed his hand upon her head. Most of his power had been used up in Netherealm, but he hoped he had enough left to cast a healing spell on her.

  “Templar, the blue potion on the shelf, give it to me.”

  Templar nearly jumped, rushing to the shelves and searching through their contents. He looked among the different bottles, pushing them aside, the glasses clinking against each other. “Which one? There are five different blue potions!”

  “It should be a light blue, almost like it’s glowing,” said Nasam.

  Templar grabbed the one that seemed appropriate. He dropped to the ground, moving next to Nasam and handing him the bottle. “This one?”

  Nasam took the bottle and popped it open. He held Ekala’s head in his lap and poured the liquid down her throat. Tossing the empty bottle over his shoulder, Nasam placed his hands on her head once more and continued his incantation with his eyes shut.

  “What’s happening?” asked Templar.

  Nasam didn’t respond, just continued holding Ekala’s head once the incantation was finished. Her body remained still and her face looked pale. And then, just as he thought that all hope was lost, she began coughing, specks of the potion flying out and flecking Nasam’s robe. Both he and Templar allowed themselves to breathe normally once again.

  “What’s going on?” asked Ekala. “Did it work? Where’s Zarim?”

  “I think he’s back,” said Nasam.

  “So where is he?” she asked.

  “Likely back with his body,” said Nasam.

  “Where would that be?” asked Templar.

  “Xanadar,” said Ekala. “That’s where Swul said they were gonna take him. We have to—”

  The ground started to rumble. The tremor quickly grew fiercer, and Nasam’s books and bottles were thrown from the shelves. The three had trouble standing themselves. “Earthquake?” asked Ekala.

  “No,” said Nasam, eyes widening. “I fear it’s much worse.”

  A massive fist broke through the door and tore it from the hinges
. Those hands then tore the frame, making the entrance larger. The figure who stood in the new doorway was a massive behemoth with gray skin. He grunted as he saw the three inside, and tore at the wall of the shack.

  Templar held up his cane, activating the pulse sword. He thrust forward, but Graf simply swatted him away, throwing the thief against the wall. Ekala released a pair of throwing knives, but they had no effect on Graf’s thick hide. The monstrous creature broke through, wrapping his large hand around her legs and holding her tight.

  Graf moved aside and as he pulled Ekala from the shack, she saw Lord Vortai, his eyes glowing. He shook his head at her and then stepped inside the house, seeing his old teacher lying on the ground. Vortai stepped closer and knelt down by him.

  “Oh Nasam, what has become of you?” he asked. “Living in isolation like this? Like an animal?”

  Nasam sat up and grinned. “Better to live as an exile than to live in a world where a vicious bastard has the ear of the Emperor.”

  “I sensed your interference, and you must be why Jeske has not returned,” said Vortai. “Tell me, old friend, what have you done?”

  “You’re too late,” said Nasam. “The Soulstones have been assembled. And you won’t reach them in time.”

  “Hmm, you make a strong case.” Vortai stood and pointed up. Nasam was thrown to the ceiling by invisible hands and held there. His arms and legs were forcefully spread out. Vortai stared at his old teacher. “You always thought you were above me, Nasam. But you overplayed your hand. Used up all your power in the Netherealm. And now, I get to show you just how vicious I can be.”

  “Stop!” Ekala struggled against Graf’s hands, but his grip was far too strong. She may as well have been wearing shackles.

  Vortai’s eyes crackled with emerald energy. It surrounded his entire body and he reached for Nasam. The energy arched out for the old mage, engulfing him. Something began glowing in the center of Nasam’s chest, getting brighter and brighter. Nasam’s eyes went blank, his body starting to convulse. The ball of energy that came from Nasam’s chest started floating down, following the green energy chain that linked the two men. As it came to Vortai, the warlock cackled, his laugh sending chills down Ekala’s spine.

  And then, the energy vanished. Nasam fell from the ceiling and landed on the table, the legs buckling under the sudden weight and breaking. Vortai turned away from his dead teacher and pointed now at the unconscious Templar. The thief was raised up by Vortai’s power and floated out of the hut. Graf looked at Ekala and then Templar.

  “Which would you like to drain first, My Lord?”

  “Just try it, you bastard! I’ll make sure you choke on me!” said Ekala.

  “Neither,” said Vortai. “That insufferable old fool was right about one thing: Quand has all five stones and he is going to prepare his spell. These two will ensure that we have more time on our hands. They come with us.”

  Ekala sneered at him. “You really think they’re gonna risk you getting your hands on the stones? Those things will be long gone before you reach Xanadar!”

  “I think not,” said Vortai. “You just risked death to save Zarim’s soul. He won’t allow you to die. Not yet.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Reyche stepped into the basement of the temple, where Zarim’s lifeless body still lay in front of the four Soulstones. Only the fifth slot, in the center of the star, remained vacant. And from what Quand had told them, that slot would be difficult to fill. Standing in the corner of the room, a cigar clenched between his teeth, was Swul. After they spoke with Quand, he’d returned to the basement to watch over his friend.

  “Any news?” asked Reyche.

  Swul grumbled.

  Apparently not. Reyche lowered the hood of her cloak and walked over to Zarim, gently laying a hand on his. It was cold to the touch. Not unlike, she surmised, her own condition. She wondered, if Zarim did return, would he be like her? And would he really want to live a life like that?

  “It feels strange to be down here,” she said. “When I first met Zarim, I thought he was little more than a petty thief. And now, although not much time has passed since that day in Serenity, I find I’ve arrived at a completely different conclusion.”

  “Just means yer a terrible judge of character,” said Swul.

  She looked up, startled at the barb, but her own lack of self-esteem caused her to believe those words. After all, she had once looked up to Vortai. And the man who turned her into this was a man met on her travels from Tarzu, a man she thought loved her, but in reality saw her as nothing more than prey.

  “I suppose so...”

  Swul walked towards her, plucking the cigar from his jaw as he did. “Don’t do that.”

  She looked at him, eyebrow rising and lips scrunching as she tried to discern his meaning. “I’m sorry? Do what?”

  “Don’t play the self-pity game.”

  Her head dropped and a forlorn nod followed. “You’re right. You were friends for a long time, I only knew him shortly. It’s hardly fair of me to—I’m sorry.”

  Swul waved off her statement with a swish of his hand. “Oh shut up, you really think it’d bug me that yer upset over Zee? You got me wrong, sister. What I meant is you got more strength in you than y’ realize.”

  Reyche almost laughed. “I’m sorry, but I think you have me confused with Liran or Ekala.”

  “Nah, I’m talkin’ about you. I heard about the way you handled yourself in Erlik. An’ I saw what you did to Vortai’s little buddy in the cathedral.”

  She stepped away from the body, hugging herself. “That...wasn’t me. It was the...creature inside.”

  “Maybe so.” He approached her, his wings raising him up to her eye level. “But like it or not, that creature? It’s part o’ you now. When I was first exiled, not a day went by I didn’t think of severin’ my wings or chopping the points off my ears. But eventually, I came to terms with who I am. You’re gonna have to do the same.”

  “And when did you finally do that?” asked Reyche.

  “When we went to Nephelm to get the Soulstone,” said Swul.

  She looked at him. “Wait, wasn’t that shortly before I met you?”

  He grinned and shrugged. “I never said it would happen overnight, did I?”

  Reyche began to laugh and Swul couldn’t help but join in. Behind them, the glow of the four Soulstones grew in intensity. Green bolts crackled around them and a chain of energy emerged from the center of each. Swul and Reyche stopped their laughter when they realized something strange was happening. The Soulstones were now linked together, the trail of power converging on the vacant fifth slot, and from there arcing to Zarim’s body, which now had a glow around it that matched the stones.

  “What’s happening?” she asked.

  “Hell if I know.”

  The conjoined energy trail in the fifth slot grew ever larger, forming into an orb-like shape itself. The orb of green light slowly started to become solid, growing from the center out, until its surface had a gem-like appearance identical to the other four Soulstones. And the moment it did, Zarim’s eyes opened and he breathed in with an alarmed gasp.

  “Zee!” Swul threw the cigar on the ground and his wings threw him at his friend, and he wrapped his arms around Zarim, nearly strangling the newly-acquired oxygen from his lungs.

  “O-okay, buddy, don’t kill me all over again!” said Zarim, struggling not to laugh.

  Reyche stepped on the still-lit stogie and smiled down at Zarim. “Welcome back.”

  “Hey Reyche, thanks,” said Zarim. He suddenly appeared as if he’d misplaced something. Zarim searched around his body and evidently didn’t find what he was looking for. But when he turned and saw the four-pointed star with the fifth Soulstone in the center, he sighed with relief.

  Swul, meanwhile, had gone to the stairwell and shouted up. “Hey! Get your worthless butts down here! He’s back!”

  It didn’t take long for Tanus and Liran to charge down the steps. Tanus, as usual, rema
ined fairly stoic, but even his rock-like face managed a broad smile, the likes of which Zarim had never seen on the old soldier. Liran’s reaction was more surprising, however. In an uncharacteristic show of emotion, she rushed towards him and embraced him in a similar manner as Swul. At first, Zarim wasn’t sure if she was being affectionate or attacking, but once he understood her purpose, he relaxed. When she broke away, Tanus came up to him and simply offered his human hand.

  “Good to have you back.”

  Zarim gripped Tanus’ hand in his own and gave it a slight shake, accompanied by a smile. “Good to be back. But where are Ekala and Nasam?”

  The smiles started to fade at this. Zarim looked between all of them and asked, “what’s wrong? Did something happen to them?”

  “After we got out of Erlik, Ekala jumped ship,” said Swul. “Went off on her own to who-knows-where. An’ who’s Nasam?”

  “She must have found him on her own...I just assumed...” Zarim shook his head. “Forget it. How did you guys get out of Erlik? What happened to Weiss?”

  “Tanus used some of that Dreadnought trainin’ to get ‘em outta there,” said Swul. “An’ as for Weiss—”

  “Felidae justice,” said Liran. “She is no more a problem.”

  Zarim’s mood darkened. A part of him, a part he thought he buried long ago, wanted to bubble to the surface, to admonish Liran. But he knew it was useless. He put Weiss in that situation, he pushed her to the limits and that was something he would have to live with. Liran simply did what she thought was right at the time, and had their positions been reversed, he could hardly say he would have acted differently.

  “Zarim? Are you all right?” asked Reyche.

  He flashed a false smile. “Just a little shaken up. Coming back from the dead will do that to a guy. The important thing is we’ve now got all five stones and we can finish this once and for all. All we need is Master Quand.”

  “That’s a good point, actually. Where is he?” asked Tanus. “I don’t think there’s any way he couldn’t have heard Swul.”

  Zarim finally stood from the spot his body had been laid and proceeded up the stairs. As he walked into the main temple area, he called out his mentor’s name. “Master Quand? Got some good news if you’re...”