by M S C Barnes
screamed into the night, felt like a knife ripping through Seb. Looking up he could just about make out Heath, standing within the bright silver flames. He still had his hand turned inward and the light beam poured into his chest, spread out from his body and engulfed it.
Seb felt a hand on his back; Alice, he knew. The Dryad knelt beside him offering support. The pain and anguish Seb felt was indescribable, the most extreme grief coupled with the most torturous agony. Suddenly the flame was gone, snuffed out in an instant, and Heath fell to the ground, eyes directed at Seb, but vacant, lifeless.
Still Seb felt the pain and torment and he watched as two white misty spirals emerged from the lifeless body. As they did so, the body broke into millions of minute sparkles which drifted apart and then vanished, leaving nothing tangible to show that Heath, the Custodian, had ever existed.
The howling of the wolves was so loud Seb could hear nothing else and he jumped as a dark shadow swooped above him. The spirit stallion leapt over him and landed beside Mr Duir. It bucked and snorted, rearing and stamping a few feet from Seb’s head. Miss Angel nimbly dropped from its back and, with a word from Mr Duir, the huge horse calmed.
Miss Angel ran to join Greg West, Dominic White and Aiden.
In obvious extreme pain, physical and emotional, Mr Duir stood, leaning against Dierne. He lifted his hand, preparing to catch the sliver of moonlight that shone weakly through the hole in the fairy dome.
Seb stared at the spiralling mist trails. He could tell which was Heath and which was Braddock; he could feel malice and hatred from one, bitter disappointment and frustration from the other. And he could feel a rush of their memories, so many memories; flashes of events shared and others individual to each. The visions bombarded Seb’s mind, and in a few moments he had the full picture of what had happened to Braddock, what had happened between Heath, his Dryad twin, his group and the group he had mentored.
Seb saw the younger Heath, champion of his own group – driven, devoted, idealistic – and the sinister, sly machinations of Braddock, to whose hidden scheming Heath was oblivious. He saw the undermining, the divisive subterfuge, the efforts by Mr Duir, Mr West, Dierne even, to convince Heath of the danger and betrayal. The memories of conversations, some quiet, some more heated, the loss of direction, of control, the chaos and unbalance until eventually, reluctantly, Heath was persuaded and Braddock was given an ultimatum.
Seb saw all of their many, many years unfold, revealing the dramatic end which saw Braddock take the step of travelling through a door through which he had no right to pass, no need – the Elder Tree door. And with him as a loose cannon, a maverick, travelling the passages between worlds, seeking to ally himself with trespassing souls, Mr Duir sought and obtained the consent of the remainder of Heath’s group and the backing of his own group to do the unthinkable, to drive Braddock’s soul from his Dryad body and consign it to the Soul Drop, which Seb now knew to be a version of Hell; a non-existence, a void, without stimulus, without contact, without sights, sounds or any external influence. This was a depository for souls beyond redemption. A place to which those souls considered to be so far gone down the path of their own greed and malice that there was no hope of their repentance and transformation were condemned.
But even before his soul was banished Braddock was given a final chance to return, to rejoin the groups, to commit once more to the role for which he was originally destined, to be the soul twin of a Custodian, providing the communication between human and other souls, to be Nature’s go-between, weaving a link between the realities. But it simply wasn’t enough. Braddock’s ambition, his motivation, his drive led in another direction. His profound resentment at the placing of the human soul at the head of the system Nature had put in place, making the Custodian always human, consumed him. He believed a Dryad could and should undertake that role, that Dryads, with their purer understanding of Nature, were best placed to lead the group. And so why not him? Why could he not carve that path, become the first Dryad to be the champion of Nature’s cause?
So on that last day, with the offer of reconciliation given, Braddock remained defiant, yelling at Heath that he had betrayed him, yelling at Mr Duir that his vengeance would be catastrophic. He had been brought to this stone circle, The Hurlers. The Soul Drop had been opened and Mr Duir had driven his soul from his body and sent it into the abyss.
Seb witnessed these memories from the perspective of the individual souls, Heath’s devastation and grief and Braddock’s belief that he himself had been betrayed by the groups. Seb could feel his hatred of Mr Duir beyond all else. The overwhelming emotion from that corrupted soul was that Aelfric Duir was the root of all his ills, was the cause of his damnation, was the one who had prevented him showing Nature the true way – to have a Dryad soul as Custodian. Aelfric Duir had banished him to the hell of an existence as a conscious soul with no outlet, no stimuli, no contact.
And then realisation dawned for Seb. He felt the hate, he felt the need for revenge and he remembered the screams of Braddock at his banishment, My vengeance will be catastrophic, Aelfric Duir!
Time seemed to slow. Seb watched Mr Duir turn his hand to capture the moonlight and aim it at Braddock’s soul as Heath’s soul swirled and moved, travelling away from his corrupt twin. But Aelfric Duir, struggling to keep his balance and relying on the support of Dierne, all too late realised his own vulnerability as the mist trail of Heath shot forward and penetrated his chest.
Seb watched in horror as Mr Duir clutched his chest and now Braddock’s soul zoomed towards him. The vaporous trail stabbed into his body too and Seb knew they had all missed the point.
Revenge !
Sacrifice
The whole purpose of Braddock was revenge. And Heath, far from having sacrificed himself to assist in the destruction of Braddock, had ensured that both their souls were free now to avenge the actions orchestrated and carried out by Aelfric Duir all those years ago.
Seb guessed their plan: the two, working together, would drive Aelfric Duir from his body, banish him to the Soul Drop, then do the same to Seb. And then they would have the two Custodian hosts they desired without the danger of another Custodian to oppose them.
And with the power of those two renegade souls working on his body, what chance did Mr Duir stand of controlling their actions? Eyes glowing red, he turned to face Seb.
And what could Seb do? He couldn’t strike at Mr Duir; he would kill him, release all three souls and who could say what would happen then? This was surely a battle Mr Duir would have to fight on his own. But what if he lost? How could he, in his weakened state, stand a chance of defeating these two?
Mr Duir, pushing Dierne away, turned his left arm towards Seb. Horrified at the danger in which he now found himself, Seb tried to react but his feet wouldn’t move.
Nat shouted at Zach, “They’re going for Seb!”
Zach’s movement was swift. He leapt across and pushed Seb sideways. There was a sudden silver flare that singed the moss and grass and left a sizeable crater right where Seb had just been standing. The aim had been accurate and, had Zach not intervened, Seb would now be a host-less soul.
Cue jumped over and stood in front of Seb, shielding him. Seb tried not to panic. Did he now have to destroy Mr Duir to stop Braddock and Heath?
The Caretaker and Miss West joined Zach and stood, with Cue, trying to protect Seb, but he now knew the power that a Custodian wielded. He knew that one strike from Mr Duir and any of them would be finished. So he made a decision.
“Okay,” he said, stepping from behind Cue, hands in the air. “Okay. Leave them be.”
Mr Duir stood, head lowered, fists clenched and then he groaned and sank to his knees. Dierne, hovering above him, was lost, didn’t know how to help. He stared down in horror, his face showing the conflict he felt. He was Aelfric’s soul-twin but Aelfric was now possessed by two malignant souls and so needed to be stopped.
The other three teachers didn’t mov
e. It was as if they were stunned by the events, not having anticipated any of it, and simply didn’t know what to do.
The pack of wolf-stags moved forward, forming a circle around Mr Duir, some snarling, others baring their teeth and growling. He still knelt, fists clenched, his arms rammed into his sides as though he was using every ounce of his willpower to keep them there. He looked at Seb; there was no sign of red in his eyes.
In a strained voice he said, “Use their strength, Seb.”
Then he lowered his head again, fighting a battle for control of his body.
Seb was unsure what he meant and Alice, who floated next to him said, “Seb, the wolves, they don’t just feel power, they are power. You need to use them.”
“But how? I don’t know how!” he shouted.
“Aelfric told you: follow your instincts. It’s worked up until now.” Alice put a hand on his shoulder.
Zach agreed. “Seb, come on. You’ve done it before!”
Seb knew what he had to do, which essentially meant destroying Mr Duir’s body and then trying to quickly send Heath and Braddock into the Soul Drop. But he couldn’t and that was the problem. He couldn’t be responsible for killing Mr Duir.
“But it will kill him! If I try to get rid of the other two, it will kill Mr Duir.”
Aelfric Duir looked up at him. “Do it!” he