The Sons of Animus Letum

by Andrew Whittle

  Odin would play his hunch.

  As Sykos regained his poise and pointed the lit end of the torch at Odin’s head, Odin’s hand slid for his dagger.

  “Throne’s Eye!” he roared. “Heroism has become your downfall.”

  Amid the screaming, Odin tightened his fingers around one of his remaining daggers and began to unsheathe it from his belt.

  “Watch now,” the oblivious Scale leader spat, “as I become more of my master! I am going to destroy…”

  With a lightning quick whip, Odin launched his dagger directly into the leader’s eye. As Sykos stumbled back, Odin used his great speed to pitch another blade into his other eye. With a painful wail, the Scale leader began to stumble clumsily in front of the broken window. As the entirety of the orange mist left his eyes, Odin sensed his opportunity, and with fire spread over the ground between them, Odin charged at his foe. As he grew close, Odin again used Sleipnir to vault himself into the air, and while airborne, he delivered a heavy kick to Sykos’s chest. The impact was devastating, launching the Scale leader helplessly out the window to his death.

  With the Scale destroyed, Odin turned back to the last Sisterhood girl. The swaying fire was encroaching around her, but Odin calculated that the risk of harm was low. As he calmly approached, hoping to lessen the great trauma she had been through, suddenly she began to scream hysterically and point behind him. As Odin turned, the leader’s python lunged out of the blood, but with a timely reflex, Odin adjusted his step and promptly crushed the snake’s skull with his boot.

  With the entirety of the Scale destroyed, Odin reached the last girl, and after cutting the rope around her wrists, he wrapped a caring arm around her shoulder.

  “It’s over,” he assured. “You’re okay.”

  The girl’s head fell hard on Odin’s chest, and as she cried with relief, Odin cut around the fire and led her out of the church.

  Calmly, Odin emerged back onto the street in front of the church. Evelyn’s carriage as well as one of the Throne’s Eye carts was waiting. Odin delivered the last girl to Evelyn, and after receiving numerous hugs and words of gratitude, he made his way to the Throne’s Eye buggy.

  As he grew close to the cart, the curtain in the back window slid open, Odin was shocked to see who was sitting in the back seat.

  “Get in, mate,” Raine requested.

  Odin obliged.

  As Odin sat down, Raine quickly turned to the driver. “Take us home, Craine, and make it quick.”

  Craine nodded, reined the horses, and then whipped them back onto the road.

  “Onward, Desia!” he shouted.

  Weighing both Raine’s presence and Usis’s earlier boast, Odin knew something was wrong.

  “It’s Galian, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, mate,” Raine sombrely answered. “He’s pretty sick.”

  Odin shook his head in disbelief.

  “What happened?”

  “Igallik’s not sure,” Raine said. “Your brother collapsed in the High Temple. It was weird. There were hundreds of crows circling the monastery, and I’m telling you Odin, there was something in that thunder.”

  Odin’s mind immediately identified the culprit.

  “It was Usis,” he said.

  Upon hearing the name, Raine’s interest became intently focused.

  “What about Usis?” he demanded.

  Odin’s eyes were deadly. “He was at the church,” he said. “Not only has he sent Death to my brother, he has given Forneus every detail concerning me and Galian.”

  Raine’s expression turned irate.

  “That prick,” he cursed. “What a god-damned waste.”

  Odin simply nodded. His fury had already settled into focus.

  “We have to find the letter the Scale sent,” he began to strategize. “The symbol on the letter is the emblem of the Reaper’s Covenant. If we can destroy the letter, I bet the covenant will break.”

  Still incensed by Usis’s actions, Raine composed himself enough to agree.

  “And Craine,” Odin calmly added to the driver, “if Desia can run, I think now is the time to show off.”

  35

  It was early morning when Odin’s carriage reached the Throne’s Eye gates. A wind storm had ransacked the last hours of the trek, and as the gates were drawn, it was clear the wind would not relent. The trees within the monastery were flexing and bending against the wind, rustling madly as their leaves howled like one thousand whistles. Amid the whirlwind, the tornado of crows still spiralled above.

  After he had breached the gate, Craine quickly drove the horses as close to Galian’s room as he could, and after the carriage had come to a stop, Odin and Raine burst out. As Odin and his mentor rushed across the red stone, they ran headlong into pressing winds, their clothing rippling as they fought to make it to Galian’s quarters.

  The majority of the crows as well as the majority of the Throne’s Eye monks were waiting. Odin sliced through the crowd and slid to Galian’s side. Igallik and the other monks of the High Order were next to the bed. There were many lit candles in the room, and Wylak had administered countless acupuncture needles to Galian’s body.

  As Odin rushed in, Igallik seemed too distraught to notice.

  “Igallik!” Odin shouted as he grasped the head monk’s shoulders. “I’m here!”

  Igallik immediately swung back into attentiveness.

  “Odin,” he realized. “You’re here.”

  “The letter the Scale sent, where is it?”

  Igallik searched his mind for the answer.

  “It’s on the altar – the altar of the temple where we met with Evelyn.”

  Odin looked back to Raine to confirm that the old warrior had heard.

  “Got it,” Raine affirmed.

  In seconds, Raine had sped across the courtyard to find the letter. As Raine began his search, Odin knelt beside Galian’s bed, and after surveying his brother, he turned to the head monk.

  “How is he?”

  “Not good,” Igallik answered. “More of him is stolen each moment.”

  Igallik was visibly exhausted. As the head monk began to massage his temples, Odin’s first question seemed to fully register.

  “What do you want with the letter?” he asked.

  “The symbol at the bottom is the seal of the Reaper’s Covenant.” Odin said. “Usis used the letter to make a pact with Death.”

  “Usis?” Igallik repeated. “He is with the Scale?”

  “No, he used them to get to us.”

  Igallik let out a deep sigh.

  “I’ve often thought it was a mistake not telling Usis about his parents,” he said. “I will suffer no more in that anguish. The mistake was not letting Usis’s parents kill him.”

  Odin would not argue.

  “At least we know what has become of your brother,” Igallik said.

  “If we destroy the letter, can we save Galian?” Odin asked.

  “I believe so.”

  As Odin glanced back across the courtyard, he saw Raine sprinting back from the temple with the letter in hand.

  It was going to work.

  However, as Odin watched his mentor, it suddenly seemed like the old warrior’s pace had slowed. Odin couldn’t understand why Raine would slow. Time was not an ally. As Odin continued to watch, he suddenly realized that even the leaves, in spite of the roaring winds, had slowed down. Something sinister was moving within the courtyard – something Odin could feel.

  “Come on,” he whispered as he watched his mentor. “Twenty more yards.”

  As Raine laboured across the yard, the old warrior’s face appeared anguished. His face was wrenched in pain, and with every step it seemed to be getting worse. Then, just as Raine let out a strained cry, there was a ghostly hush, and the old warrior’s movement was frozen in mid-stride. As Odin turned to alert Igallik, he began to feel incredibly cold, and pins and needles began to strike everywhere on his body. Desperately, Odin reached for Igallik’s shoulder, but mid-rea
ch, Odin’s movement became completely halted. Somehow, against their will, Odin, Igallik, and the other monks had become deadly still. The monks were still aware – their senses and thoughts remained engaged – but they had been robbed of action. They had become statues. The only movement in the monastery was the circling and squawking crows.

  While the monks fought futilely against the paralysis, suddenly the candles in Galian’s room started to flicker and spark. Their light cast every monk’s shadow onto the wall. Odin could see Galian’s, Igallik’s, and his own inert silhouette framed against the wall in front of him – it was as if he were watching a play of shadows.

  Frozen as they were, the monks’ thoughts had become imprisoned in their motionless bodies, feeding them with a claustrophobia that was worsening with every second. All of the monks’ powers – all of their discipline and strength – had been rendered useless. Some foreign power had defeated them before they had even realized they were in a fight.

  As the paralysis continued, paranoia and fear began to grow. When the mind cannot see its enemy, it can stretch many lengths. Fear begins to make demons out of dust. Many times, the imagination can build greater terrors than those that are found in reality.

  This was not such a time.

  As sweat began to bead down every monk’s brow, suddenly, without anyone entering the room, another shadow began to emerge onto the wall. The shadow, seemingly coming from no source, began to unfold and grow to an inhuman height. With every monk watching, the shadow arched its back and two massive wings stretched across the wall. As the figure’s wingspan spread completely open, the figure reached its boney hand into the darkness of its own shadow and began to pull out a giant scythe.

  Odin’s voice was loud in his own head, screaming and roaring at the shadow. But no sound came from his mouth. The shadow was stalking its prey, and there was nothing Odin could do but watch.

  After ten slow steps – ones that creaked hauntingly throughout the silent room – the shadow stood ominously over Galian.

  As he watched, one tortured phrase was repeating itself in Odin’s mind.

  “Not like this… Not like this…”

  The words were more like a whimper, and as the shadow drew back its scythe, three years of silence burned through Odin’s heart.

  “Not like this!” Odin screamed. “I can’t lose him like this! Please, God! Not like this!”

  The prayer would not be answered.

  Mercilessly, the giant shadow slammed down its scythe and plunged the blade powerfully into Galian’s core. The Seraph’s abdomen exploded open, and as his body bucked violently, the gory puncture wound began to spit out Galian’s blood and guts.

  Helplessly, Odin and the other monks watched Galian’s blood and a dense blue mist start to pour from the wound. As the mist flooded into the air, it began to take on a human form. The vision was horrifying – it was a disgusting scene, forcing every monk present to watch Galian die. As the mist completely flooded from Galian’s body, it resembled his exact form – it was his soul. It even had Galian’s scar from Vinculum Imletalis.

  With his face gritted in pain, Galian’s soul squirmed and reached out for his brother, but as his hand stabbed desperately for Odin, the giant shadow cocked back its weapon and then speared the end of his scythe into Galian’s soul. The scythe began to heave backward, dragging Galian deep into the shadow – towing him to death.

  As Galian clawed for escape, suddenly there was stillness. The scene that the monks had been forced to watch froze like ice.

  “Please…” Odin begged. “Please, let him go.”

  Death would not assent.

  With a crack, thunder boomed over the monastery, and then, for an entire devastating minute, darkness overwhelmed Galian’s quarters. There was nothing to see but the shadow of Death’s cloak.

  In the darkness, Odin was broken. For three years he had chosen to speak no words to his brother, but now, in this one heartbreaking moment, he begged God to let him speak only two.

  “I’m sorry…”

  As the darkness fell away, the re-emergence of light proved Galian’s soul gone – its absence made hauntingly clear by Galian’s body lying dead and destroyed on the crimson-soaked bed. With a sudden and powerful wave of cold, the monastery was rocked back into real time.

  Every monk but the distraught Odin was knocked to the ground.

  As Odin screamed in horror and collapsed over Galian’s broken body, the head monk rose furiously to his feet and began a deadly focused march to the High Temple. Odin clenched Galian’s dead hand, pleading with God to undo the devastation, but in spite of that demand, no miracle was awarded. Instead, by some power of the Reaper’s scythe, Galian’s body began disintegrate into ash, and Odin’s heart and hands were left to sift through his dead brother’s ashes. Death had been merciless – stealing Galian’s soul and leaving no body for Throne’s Eye final respects.

  As Igallik rushed out of Galian’s quarters, Raine finished the last leg of his duty and arrived at Galian’s door with the letter in hand.

  He quickly read the monk’s eyes. “It’s too late,” he realized.

  “Nothing could have been done,” Igallik said.

  Regardless of the pardon, Raine felt responsible.

  “What happened?” he cried.

  “Not sure,” Igallik answered as he sped towards the High Temple.

  Raine looked through the doorway and saw the heart-broken Odin.

  “Aw, hell,” the old warrior cursed. “It can’t be like this.”

  Raine fell hard into the doorframe, his hands shaking as he heard the screams from Odin’s mouth. Raine recognized the sound – it was the horror that cried out of him when he lost Ruscai. He would never wish such a pain on anyone.

  The memories quickly became too much, and the old warrior launched himself after the departing head monk.

  “What do we do?” he yelled. “How do we act?”

  “Give me twenty minutes,” Igallik yelled back. “Twenty minutes, and then assemble the Order and bring them to the High Temple.”

  Raine managed a nod of understanding. Out of necessity he took a moment to regain his composure, but as his breath began to slow, Odin burst out of Galian’s quarters.

  Odin’s strides were wild and erratic like a wounded animal.

  “Igallik!” he screamed hysterically. “Igallik! Get back here!”

  Raine quickly positioned his massive frame across Odin’s path.

  “Not now, Raine!” Odin screamed as he tried to push through the old warrior.

  Raine used both his body and voice to restrain Odin.

  “You need to trust me, mate. Let him be for now.”

  “He’s the only one who knows!” Odin cried. “He knows what happened! Igallik!” Odin screamed again. “Tell me what happened!”

  “You’re right, Odin,” Raine said. “He knows. And you know in your head that he needs to be the one to understand. Give him some time,” Raine said. “Just give him some time.”

  Odin’s head collapsed onto Raine’s chest, and his entire body began to tremble as tears streamed down his face.

  “What do I do?” he began to sob. “I can’t… I can’t… not without him…”

  Raine didn’t have an answer. The only thing that he knew to do was to wrap his arms around Odin.

  After a minute passed with Odin collapsed on Raine’s chest, Craine emerged from Galian’s quarters.

  “Craine,” Raine said quietly, “get the rest of the Order monks and bring them to the High Temple. Tell Igallik, I’m sitting this one out. ”

  Craine nodded, and he quickly began his task. As Craine left, Raine wrapped his arm around Odin’s shoulder.

  “C’mon, mate. We’ll take a walk, and then we’ll go speak with Igallik.”

  Odin shook his head with a sniffle. “I need to be alone for a minute,” he said weakly. “I just need a minute.”

  Raine patted Odin’s back. “I can give you that,” he said quietly. “If you ne
ed anything, just ask.”

  Odin nodded, and after wiping his nose with his sleeve, he fell away from the old warrior.

  Staggering away, Odin’s mind was replaying the scene of his brother’s death – every piece of it. It was gruesome and wrenching, but Odin did so because he needed something, some image of his brother that he could hold on to. Many in your realm do the same then they lose someone. They search their memories for pieces of their loved ones.

  Galian must have anticipated the search because he had left Odin something more tangible than a memory.

  He had left him a letter – the one Odin had discarded the night he became an Aeris.

  As Odin paced away, he suddenly recalled this, and as his posture jolted, he wiped his eyes again and sped towards his own quarters.

  36

  Upon Igallik’s request, the Order assembled in the High Temple twenty minutes after Galian’s demise. Instead of joining the Order, Raine chose to remove himself from the hearing in case Odin needed him.