The Fragment of Water (The Shattered Soul Book 1)

by Ben Hale

  Elenyr paused and met his gaze, her expression the as sober as he’d ever seen. “We must hurry.”

  “Wait,” Water said, catching up to her. “Who sent that message?”

  Elenyr sidestepped the question. “An old friend,” she replied. “One who does not seek an audience lightly.”

  “Why does he want to meet us?” he asked.

  “I suspect he has a favor to ask,” she replied.

  “Another bounty?” Water asked, glancing in the direction where Bartoth had disappeared.

  “Not likely,” Elenyr said.

  Elenyr’s features were tight with worry, implying their visitor was not as friendly as she described. Water tried to recall the last time someone had visited their home and, aside from Elenyr’s descendants, only a handful of treasure seekers had ever found the ruins.

  “Come,” Elenyr said. “We must summon the others and return to Verisith.”

  Water fell into step beside her, a smile spreading on his face. Although he had no idea who would be arriving in their home, he sensed that whatever lay in store would bring a change to their life. He hoped it would finally allow the fragments a chance to prove they could be Draeken.

  Chapter 6: Cloudy Vale

  Elenyr and Water took their journey south, through the mountain passes and into the heart of Griffin. The nation had been gradually expanding its borders for centuries, claiming any lands not under another banner. Their greed had not gone unnoticed, with the rock trolls, the elves to the south, and the Azure people on the islands all resisting the expansion. For their part, Griffin claimed the rise in population necessitated the growth, a not entirely untrue assertion, even if it was not the whole truth.

  Riders, wagons, and full caravans filled the breadth of the highway, gradually digging ruts in the fine stonework. Military transports moved north to join the growing army attempting to clear the unclaimed lands, while merchants carried spices from the new northern villages back to the middle cities.

  Water didn’t mind the crowds and was always fascinated with the multitude of entertainers who flocked to the road. They were always looking to earn coin from the harried parents that wished to distract their children.

  A juggler walked with a caravan of merchants, causing the children to laugh and giggle as he attempted to twirl daggers, the blades nearly impaling him as he feigned instability. Farther down a bard sang while he reclined on the back of an open wagon, allowing his horse—which apparently knew the way—to drive. His song was low and inviting, an advertisement for an upcoming performance in a northern fort, a fact he mentioned after every song.

  But this time Water kept glancing at Elenyr, who was unusually quiet. She, too, enjoyed the road, even though she’d mentioned that she no longer felt part of the kingdoms she’d sworn to protect. Water fleetingly wondered if she had grown weary of helping those who did not know her identity.

  That thought reminded him of what Bartoth had asked. Others had wanted to know his identity, yet in light of how much time had passed, Water found himself unsettled. After so much time, shouldn’t he already know?

  “Bartoth asked me who I was,” Water said, watching a captain bark at his troops to stay in formation. Some of the men were talking to a pair of noble daughters riding nearby, and they straightened at the command.

  “And you think I can tell you?” Elenyr asked. “Do you remember what I said when you first separated?”

  “That I would choose who I wanted to be,” he said, grimacing at the painful memory.

  “We choose our own fates,” she said, and nodded to a woman riding next to her husband.

  The woman watched her two children scamper about, a small smile on her face. Dressed in homespun clothing and astride an aged mount, she was obviously a commoner, yet there was something serene about her that inspired envy.

  “I cannot choose my own,” he said. “Because I’m only a fragment.”

  “Perhaps,” she said. “But even a fragment has a choice in its fate.”

  She pointed to a man who was slumped in his saddle, dozing as his horse picked its way north. His white hair tugged in the breeze, his fine clothing shielding him from the morning chill. Two guards rode with him, both watchful, wary.

  “A minor noble,” Elenyr said. “He was likely raised for his role, yet fragments of his identity call him in other directions. Perhaps he enjoys singing, or weaponry, and both shape him into the man he has become.”

  Water noticed the sword on his hip. Many nobles wore a blade, as much for ceremony as for protection, but this man’s sword was well cared for, the hilt a fine workmanship, yet not for show. As he rode by, Water noticed the calluses on his hands and realized he still trained, revealing why his belly did not extend like many nobles.

  Her reminder that others had fragments to their identity brought a smile to his lips, and the confusion dissipated. He spotted a dwarf with a wagon of mechanisms, each designed to entertain and delight. Traveling south, likely to Stormwall for the summer games, he permitted the children to insert coins into the mechanisms, bringing them to life, the mechanical soldiers rising to duel each other.

  Children were present, but so were adults, all finding entertainment in the monotonous journey. Water glanced to Elenyr and she smiled and nodded, giving him permission to join the crowd.

  The journey passed quickly, and despite his earlier doubts he was no longer discontented. Elenyr still brooded, but Water quickly grew distracted by the many children migrating to the northern villages with their families, where the promise of a new frontier awaited.

  He cast small cats of water and they stood like men, fighting with tiny swords. The children giggled and laughed at the comical display and Water drank in their laughter, the combat and battle in the north long forgotten.

  Passing Terros, capitol of Griffin, they continued south, the road growing less traveled yet more diverse. Elves journeyed into Griffin, carrying enchanted light orbs, clothing, and weapons, while Griffin exports of ore and food made the return journey. Fewer families were present and Water was forced to find entertainment with a traveling bard, who was well into his stock of Dwarven fire ale.

  They reached the elven forest of Orláknia and turned south, departing the highway for the smaller roads. As always, Elenyr avoided the location where Dawnskeep had once stood. During her time as an oracle, the fortress had been her home, but the Mage Wars had left it destroyed, with the four other oracle bloodlines extinguished. Water still remembered when townsfolk talked of the war, but now the tales were relegated to legend. The city had been covered with earth shortly after the war and the forest had reclaimed the region. In recent decades the elves had built a new capitol on the site, and the city of Ilumidora glowed on the horizon. Elenyr still avoided it, and Water assumed her memories were not so easily buried.

  The road grew progressively rougher as they worked their way to the southern border of Griffin, the crowds fading until they were alone, and the road was little more than a path through the trees. Shortly after, they reached a large cliff, the edge of the towering mountains that separated Griffin from the barbarian strongholds.

  Elenyr reached the cliff and her body phased to ethereal, allowing her to pass through the solid rock. Water turned his body to liquid and stepped to a small stream trickling from beneath the cliff, his body flattening, allowing him to pass through the smaller aperture.

  On the opposite side lay a tunnel with no egress to the outside world, one of the forgotten entrances to the ancient city of Verisith. From there, they traveled deep into the mountain, rising to a secret refuge just north of the ruins.

  Several side tunnels split off, leading to the city, but Elenyr and Water ascended a long corridor to a separate location. Water grew excited at the prospect of home and skipped ahead, stepping through an arched opening into the hidden refuge of Cloudy Vale.

  Like a cup held in the hands of a mountain, the tiny refuge was just a few hundred feet across. Fed by a spring, a well of water flowed up
in one corner, while a small grouping of trees grew next to the pond. With sheer rock on all sides, the outpost had the sky for a ceiling, the few scattered clouds touching the peaks.

  A handful of structures were cut into the rock that circled the space and contained Elenyr’s private home, and the fragment’s quarters. The rest of the refuge had training spaces and benches for quiet reflection, the flowers adding to the tranquility.

  All of the buildings had been built by the Verinai before their fall. Draeken was the last of the Verinai, and from what Water understood, he was grateful there were no more survivors of the powerful guild. On the north side, a new staircase ascended the cliff, rising to a tiny overlook between two mountain peaks. The overlook provided an unbroken view all the way to the distant elven forests.

  Water hurried forward and waved to Fire, who stood on the training grounds, battling a trio of his own soldiers. With a flaming sword in hand, he dispatched them with vicious blows before turning to Water and nodding.

  “Your water steed found Shadow and me in Herosian,” he said. “Fortunately, we’d just finished our assignment. How was the bounty?”

  “Bartoth got away,” Water said.

  Fire frowned. “I should have been the one to go.”

  Fire’s voice was a perpetually low growl that elicited fear in many of those he met, but Water knew him to be determined and forceful, when he didn’t fall to his temper. He was also slightly larger than the other fragments, and his protective instincts made him behave like an older brother. He cast a dagger of fire which he sent winging to the portal just as Elenyr emerged.

  She caught the blade before it pierced her eye and frowned. “Fire,” she said in disapproval, “we’ve talked about this. Striking a friend is not friendly.”

  Fire smiled and inclined his head. “Yes, mother.”

  Elenyr would normally respond to such a comment by firing the dagger back to Fire, but she tossed it away and strode to her quarters. Fire frowned, obviously confused, and approached Water.

  “What happened?”

  “A mysterious message,” Water said. “No idea who it’s from.”

  “What did it say?” another asked.

  Shadow appeared at their side and formed into flesh, obviously listening the whole time. Although they all looked like Draeken, Shadow was shorter than the rest, his dark hair seeming to be darker, and his smile more mischievous. If they were a family, he would have been the youngest brother.

  “That we’ve been breached,” Water said.

  “That’s it?” Fire asked.

  “Must be important,” Shadow said, and then glanced to Water. His eyes widened in surprise and he looked beyond them both, to the entrance. “Do you think the message came from him?”

  Water whirled and tripped, slamming into the ground. Fire too, was on the ground, and both glared at Shadow, who faded to darkness and flitted away, leaving his laughter to echo in Water’s ears.

  “Sometimes I want to kill him,” Fire growled, breaking the band of shadow that had bound his feet together.

  Water sliced his bonds with a knife of water and stood. “Have Mind and Light returned?”

  “Light’s playing on the cliff,” Fire said, motioning to the top of the peak. “Who knows where Mind is. Let me know when you find out who the message is from.”

  “When did you start being curious?” Water asked with a smile.

  “Never,” he replied, his lips twitching. “But I smell an approaching conflict.”

  “It might be here sooner than we think,” Mind said.

  Water turned to find Mind striding toward them. Slighter of build than the rest of them, he seemed forgettable at first glance. Then you saw his eyes, and the simmering intelligence that lurked within. All the fragments had the eye color of their magic, and Mind was no exception, the dark purple a striking hue.

  All the fragments acknowledged Mind as the leader, and when they were Draeken, he was the only one conscious. Of the group, Water liked to think of Mind as the oldest brother. On his own, Mind spoke softly, his words articulate and intentioned. When they resorted to the Dragon’s Sleep to rest, Water wondered if he ever truly slept, or if he merely plotted.

  “You think someone is coming here?” Fire scoffed. “No one knows this place exists.”

  “The oracle does,” Water said, thinking of Senia.

  “And apparently two more,” Mind said.

  “How would you know that?” Fire asked.

  In answer, Mind turned to the entrance and waited expectantly. Water glanced between him and the entrance, attempting to sense the approaching forms. Mind looked to Fire, who’d cast a pair of fire daggers in his hands.

  “Our visitors are not the type to throw daggers at,” Mind said.

  Fire grunted and extinguished the blades. The next moment two figures appeared in the entrance and came to a halt on the threshold, looking about in interest before meeting the eyes of the trio in the center.

  One was of medium build and clad in a regal cloak. His white hair made him look old but his features were flawless and strikingly handsome, as if he’d never aged. His blue eyes pierced Water to the core.

  The second couldn’t have been more different. She wore dark, fitted armor, the pattern uncommon, her blonde hair pulled back and tied. Her eyes were also blue, albeit sharper, more seasoned. A warrior. She carried no visible weapon, but Water sensed a power within.

  Elenyr appeared on the balcony of her home. “Ero,” she called, “welcome to Cloudy Vale.”

  Chapter 7: Ancient Visitors

  Elenyr phased to ethereal and dropped through the balcony to alight on her porch. Then she strode to greet the newcomers. She motioned the three fragments to join her, and watched them carefully, gauging their reactions.

  Fire seemed on edge, sparks on his fingers, while Mind was as reserved as ever, his dark gaze calculating. Water looked eager, his eyes flicking to the newcomers and back to Elenyr, obviously wanting to understand their arrival. Elenyr’s gaze settled on Ero. She hadn’t seen him in ages, not since she’d refused his offer to join the Eternals.

  “Ero?” Fire muttered to Mind. “She can’t mean . . .”

  “Water, Fire, Mind, this is Ero and Lira,” Elenyr said. “And before you ask, this is the Ero you know from history.”

  “The one from the Dawn of Magic?” Fire asked, his expression incredulous. “That was three sentenia ago.”

  “You are not the only one free of time,” Ero said, a small smile on his lips. “I take it this is Shadow?”

  He turned and looked to Shadow, who now stood behind Lira, examining her profile. A slight shade of pink touched his darker features before he withdrew to stand with the others. He nodded a greeting.

  “Were there not five fragments?” Lira asked.

  “Light,” Elenyr said with a nod. “He’s probably off playing.”

  “He does that,” Shadow supplied, staring at Lira.

  Water was staring as well, but Elenyr couldn’t blame them. The woman was stunning, her skin a shade darker than most, her eyes a slightly different shape as well. Both gave her an exotic look that matched her unfamiliar accent.

  “Where are you from?” Water asked.

  “Here,” she said, a smile on her features.

  “You’re as old as he is,” Mind guessed, motioning to Ero.

  “Not quite,” Lira said with a laugh. “But much older than you.”

  A peeling laugh echoed inside the refuge and Elenyr turned to see Light streaking down a nearby peak. Like a diamond tumbling down the steps, he glittered, his face flushed bright as he plummeted down the slope.

  Astride a sled crafted of pure light, he leaned one way and then the other, guiding his mount down the patches of snow, bouncing over the stone and boulders. Falling fast, he reached a cliff above the small pond and went free.

  In a graceful arc he spun, flipping several times, his laughter growing louder before he dived smoothly into the pond. Light filled the water, shining from
his body before he climbed to the bank and stepped free, a wide smile on his face.

  Shirtless, he revealed a muscular torso on a lean figure. He sucked in his breath and his body shimmered, the light heating and burning off the moisture. Then he noticed the group watching him and his eyes widened. He darted forward, so quickly he reached them by the time Elenyr had drawn a breath to speak. He leapt into the middle and greeted them, his words tumbling from his mouth in a rush.

  “Visitors? From where? And you didn’t summon me?” he glared at Mind before turning to Lira. “Well you’re beautiful.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” she said, her eyes flicking to his upper body.

  “Will you put a shirt on?” Water asked, obviously embarrassed. “It’s our body too, you know.”

  “Sorry,” Light said.

  He darted to their home, his body moving faster than seemed possible. Excited as he was, he would not be able to control his magic, and in seconds he returned dressed in a bright blue tunic. He smiled and joined the group, his expression dimming a little when Mind glanced to him, his features laced with disapproval.

  “As much as I would love to speak with you all,” Ero said dryly, “time is not our ally. Elenyr, may we speak in private?”

  “Of course,” Elenyr said. “This way.”

  Elenyr motioned towards her home, a recessed building with only the porch and the balcony visible, along with a handful of windows in the cliff face. The visitors nodded to the five fragments and then followed the path of crushed white stones to Elenyr’s house. Elenyr waited until Ero and Lira entered her home and then turned to the fragments, and folded her arms.

  “I know you are excited,” she said, “but I need you to wait out here.”

  “She’s captivating,” Shadow said. “Don’t tell me I’m the only one who saw it?”

  “Do you need to ask?” Mind replied, a slight smile on his face.

  Elenyr suppressed a smile. For Mind to admit he was attracted to the woman was unusual, and she didn’t want to embarrass him. She gestured to Shadow, her voice gaining a warning edge.