The Soul Refiner Bk 01 Ch 55 56

Chapter 55

Note: this chapter depicts emotional and physical abuse. Though not graphic, reader discretion is advised.

Myta shivered, clutching her father's hand. With her other hand she tried to pull her scarf tighter around her neck, making sure it covered her nose and ears as much as possible. The thick wool was dyed gray and orange, though the pattern of it was starting to fade. Although it was scratchy, she always wore the scarf when it was cool enough to do so. It reminded her of her mother, who had dyed it to resemble her skin and hair.

That's what her mother had said, anyway. The other children had told her it was because the dyes were cheap. That the scarf was cheap trash like she was cheap trash. It was stained with blood in places now, from the fights. But she'd always managed to keep her scarf safe, at least so far.

Papa was saying something, but she couldn't hear him over the howling wind. They'd left the city, heading out into the driving snow what felt like hours ago. She yelled, trying to tell him that she couldn't understand him, but her voice disappeared just as quickly.

Jerking her hand, her father ended up pulling her I'll-fitting glove off. His face twisted in anger as he tossed it aside into the snow. Grabbing her bare hand, he jerked her forward faster, wrenching her shoulder.

They walked another long time, and Myta's teeth chattered even as she sweated under her jacket. The wet chill it created only enhanced the painful numbness of her feet. Eventually they came to a ramshackle building and she stared blearily at the sight of light under the door. She could smell food of some kind, and she was cautiously hopeful as her papa beat on the door.

A man answered, large and bearded, but bald. He looked like a bear in human form, grinning down at her without the slightest hint of warmth in his gaze. His skin was pale, almost as white as snow, but his eyes glowed like gold.

"This the one?"

"Yes, Monk Entreyu. She meets your request." Her father was using that tone he always used when speaking to wealthy merchants. If this monk were wealthy she needed to make a good impression. Sneezing into her scarf, she tried her best to keep quiet, not sure why she was there.

She and her papa were brought inside. The room was warm, causing the feeling to slowly return to her hands and feet. It was intensely painful, and she struggled to keep from fidgeting as needles stabbed into her fingers and toes. Her nose was running badly, and she tried to sniffle as quietly as possible, so as not to interrupt the conversation the two adults were still having.

She was so focused on remaining still that the rough hand grabbing her shoulder was completely unexpected. The monk had knelt down in front of her, and was staring into her face. He grabbed her scarf pulling it down and away from her face, and she bit his hand.

The act was reflexive. Her scarf was precious, a gift from her mother, so the other children had tried to take it from her time and again. Just like they tried to take anything she cared about. She'd long ago learned to give no quarter if she wanted to keep anything, and this scarf was long nights, sitting at her mothers feet while she knitted, humming softly. I was more than a bit of fabric, it was a memory.

But the monk was no child, he backhanded her, knocking her to the floor where her nose now bled freely. He grabbed the offending bit of cloth, dragging at it. Dragging her around the floor by her neck until it came free.

"I like this one. She's got fire." Even the man's cheerful tone came out as a growl. He hauled her up by her hair, looking her face over, and seeming satisfied by what he saw.

"I'll take her," he tossed her father a bag that clinked with metal. "Two hundred, as promised. But if she's too sickly to survive the trip, we will seek repayment. And we will be displeased."

Her father caught the bag awkwardly, nearly fumbling it due to the weight. He opened it just long enough to glance at the contents, before tying it to his belt. Myta was sobbing on the floor, having fallen back there when the monk released her. Her father grabbed the scarf from the floor, and then crouched next to her.

"Myta, my darling," he pulled her up to a sitting position, staring into her eyes. His face was sympathetic, almost sorrowful, and she looked at him as he dabbed at her face with the scarf, cleaning the blood away.

"I know this must be scary, but I need you to be strong for the monk, and for us. You leaving will help me and your mother so very much. People have always looked at us poorly because of you. But if you are strong on this trip, I'll be able to use this money to save the shop.

"People won't view us so badly, and I'll be able to reinvest this, to pay our debts. Then your mother will be happy again and safe. You want that don't you? For your mother to be happy again?"

She nodded, her tears slowing as her determination took hold. Her father had always told her how much she cost them. The food, the clothing, the opportunities she kept from him. If she could help by going away, she would.

"Good girl." He kissed her forehead, but then I was there, finally pushing my way into the memory. I wrapped my arms around her as she sobbed again. No longer a confused and scared little girl, but my fierce warrior.

"It wasn't your fault," I whispered in her ear. "That piece of filth who called himself your father was to blame.

"I cost them so much! They just wanted to get rid of me!"

"No, he did. It takes a special kind of fool to blame a child for his own failures, moreso to sell her, and then use the money for whatever schemes he had. Investing my ass. He wanted an excuse for his incompetence. He even lied to your mother about what happened to you."

"How can you know?" She pulled back, blinking teary eyes at me.

"Why else take a bloodstained scarf away with him?" I snorted. "At least now I know why you said that we don't need to worry about him. You killed him, yes? In your final trial Entreyu turned your own father into a demon, then set him against you."

She nodded, tears flowing anew.

"No more than he deserved. I bet it wasn't hard to get him to that state. It wasn't your fault. He was asking for trouble, dealing with the Pure. Still, I now feel dirty that I ever called you my good girl. I apologize for that."

"No!" She shouted the word in my face, then kissed me fiercely. "I like when you say it. It's painful, but it also makes me feel... free."

"I hold your bond, my flame. It's a bit of irony for you to say that I make you feel free."

"But you do, master. I've never been more free than I have been with you. And I know that you don't really understand that, but I still need you to accept it." She laid her head on my shoulder.

"I'll do my best. My good girl." She shuddered as I spoke the words, and made a happy noise when I kissed her head.

"I know you don't have your weapon, but when we return you must kill the demon. It should be surprised, so you will have the best chance at a quick, killing blow. Don't hold back. If you can kill it, that will cause the monk to bleed mana, and you can wear him down over time."

"I felt your fear when you saw the other. Will you be alright?"

"I will. Part of that was her power, and the rest wasn't fear of her, but of her father. That's tomorrow's problem though. I'm actually more worried about her guards. They might be mortals, but their weapons and armor will put the others at risk. Especially Hati and Jito."

"I won't fail you master, and if I can I will go after the guards as well."

"If you can, but focus on your own task first. If you can't kill the demon quickly, or keep the monk occupied, we will fall."

She nodded grimly, and the world shuddered around us. The memory was fading, slipping away. I could feel her soul sickness, like a tide of poison waiting to crash over me. I cupped Myta's cheek, staring into her eyes.

"I love you, my flame. And no matter what happens, they will not take you away from me."

With that, the dam broke. We plunged down, into darkness, into a cloying black sludge that stank of regret and tasted like self-hatred.

Myta's shame, which had haunted her for so long, was finally released. But the corruption it had choked her with had to go somewhere. I consumed it all, funneling it into my own spirit. I dipped into my inner world as Myta awoke, struggling under the sheer weight of it.

Her root had been blocked, the thick and heavy mana nearly condensing into anima. She had been a hair's breadth away from becoming a demon herself when I found her. Now, I pushed that mana together with the corruption I already held.

It rushed together, the sickness writhing and twisting like something alive. It lasted out at me, finding my own most reviled memories. Seeking to turn me against myself. Divines knew that I had plenty of sins in my past to be ashamed of. I could feel my control slipping.

But then, there was another figure with me. Familiar, but not. A skeleton of silver light, the spirit that Myta and I had changed. It rose into the sky in my inner world, where shame writhed and struggled. And when they came together, the mana condensed and hardened. No longer a shapeless mass, nor a sliver of dense energy as I had bound it before, the mana took on a distinct and detailed form as it condensed into anima.

I had a moment of sheer terror. I absolutely did not want a shard of solidified shame in my spirit. But then it was gone, disappeared to some unknown location, and my world was calm.

Chapter 56

I exited my inner world only moments after Myta and I had visited her memory, but my vas was already in motion. Her presence condensed around her like armor, leaving burning footsteps in her wake. And in her hand was a weapon, one she hadn't had only seconds ago.

It drew my eye, captivated me, and I knew it intimately despite her moving for too fast for me to see it clearly. A glaive, in the same style as those we had been using. It had a shaft of reddish black, and a blade of silver. Light as air in her hand, it was as sharp as the edge of morning. It was her sickness, conquered and given form.

The blade of the glaive pierced the demon's surprisingly human skull, and as I'd instructed, she did not hold back. Her power flared, mana pouring down her weapon, and golden flames consumed the creature utterly.

The monk screamed, and I knew from experience that he was enduring the same pain the demon had undergone. Bonded spirits were a source of strength, but also a vulnerability. I'd undergone that same pain when the assassin in Nesratin had tried to kill my love.

Myta's attack had not just destroyed the demon's body, but its spirit as well. Saved from the need to disrupt that before it rose, I threw my presence towards the monk in a wave, forming vortices to draw off as much of his mana as I could while his guard was lowered.

It was partially successful. I leeched away some of his presence, and some mana from his severed bond. But this monk was a league better than the ones we had faced in the tunnels. He quickly regained control, fighting my pull. It was only to be expected. That trick would generally only work on the weaker and undisciplined sorcerers, but I had still managed to drain a fair portion of his mana.

The mana didn't stay with my spirit, however. I felt it drain away to somewhere. Somewhere that I didn't have time to identify.

As I'd expected, the princess was frozen in shock. One of her guards was on me in a moment, however, and I barely dodged their first strike. Their armor covered their entire body, a mix of leather with metal plates at strategic points. It was infused with air aspected mana, and presumably enchanted to increase their speed and dexterity. They were wielding two short blades of riversteel, thin and single-edged, with angled tips. I appreciated their sharpness, as the second strike pierced my belly.

Myta screamed in rage, sensing my pain. She rained down blows at the monk, who had sheathed his skin in stone armor. He blocked every blow, but her golden fire ate away at his protection as though it were made of wood. His presence was far too dense for her to simply penetrate with her sorcery, but she was wearing him down.

Denu made her presence known with an arrow, nearly taking my target in the back. They dodged, attempting to cut my stomach open while spinning to the side, but I grabbed their hand, preventing the maneuver and falling to the side, putting us both on the ground. Their armor might grant them speed, but they weren't a match for my strength.

"Stop! Cease this immediately on pain of death!" The princess had finally recovered from her shock, and I felt the fear roll over me again, attempting to freeze my limbs in place. But I had faced fear before, it was as familiar to me as pain, and I wasn't uncertain about my actions. Her sorcery passed through me, leaving me unphased. Myta was, if anything, even less affected.

Belatedly, I did what I should have done in the first place. I stripped the mana from my opponent's gear. While mana infused materials were forever changed, enchantments could be drained. They immediately slowed, now reacting slower than I. That gave me the space I needed for a palm strike to their chest, splitting their heart with my lancet.

Myta continued to whittle away at the monk, and he now boasted several bleeding wounds on his arms. She'd followed my advice, seeking to wear down his mana, rather than looking for a decisive blow.

The rest of the royal guards were divided. Two sought to approach Myta, but her blazing aura was too much for them, the other two were holding the entrance of the ravine, where Hati now boasted a stone skin of her own. She was laying into her opponents with powerful sweeping blows, while Jito sheltered behind her, protecting her flanks and launching quick and powerful jabs to keep the enemy at bay.

"Fools! You accomplish nothing here. Soon your western border will be overrun, and your cities will fall." The monk was clearly trying to stall and distract us. Monologuing during a battle was always a fool's game. Still, there was no reason not to taunt the man a little, it might give Myta an extra edge.

"You mean because of the slaves? We dealt with that already. Not the most creative ploy."

"Sage Entreyu's plan is perfect! Our god will consume you all!"

"Enrreyu, a sage?" I didn't have to force the laugh that escaped me, though my stomach hurt terribly as my wound protested. "He's a brute who can barely even form a spell. That broken cinder you call a prophet is more likely to become a sage!"

Apparently I'd struck a nerve, because the monk just screamed in incoherent rage. With an aspect of earth, he really should have been more even-tempered. As he raged, he struck out with his presence. This wakened his defense, allowing Myta's next strike to remove his right hand.

I braced myself for an attack that never came. Rather than striking at me, the monk had unleashed a different working. Not an attack, or at least not a conventional one. His presence wrapped around the spiritual tether that still remained attached to him, and it struck like a serpent. Not at me, at any of my allies, but toward the ineffectual princess.

A tether emerged from her own spirit, and a part of me wondered how the monk had conned the apsara into letting him manipulate her so. Most of me was busy being tired of these moments of abject horror. Who knew what would happen if the monk gained control of Ramana's own aspect? At best, they would both become demons from the dissonance.

I stretched out my presence, trying to intercept the connection. I even physically ran to put myself between them, though that was far too slow. Even my spiritual intervention wasn't going to be fast enough.

Ramana's spell, which had been dormant to this point, uncoiled in my core. It lashed through my spirit, passing beyond through my presence, and was drawn to the princess' tether like lightning to a metal rod. My palm screamed in agony, I screamed in agony, the pain far beyond that of a sword wound.

That had been the monk's final ploy. He had expended most of his remaining mana in his effort to bind a new servant, and staunch his spiritual wound. Myta took his other arm at the elbow, and then removed his head, leaving only a smoking stump. His spirit didn't have enough mana left to attempt a return.

The remaining royal guards fell quickly. I wanted to watch, but the mandala on my palm seized all my attention. Where once it had appeared as gold embossed on my skin, now it also shimmered with a rainbow sheen, and new sigils burned themselves into my flesh. It looked more complete somehow, with fewer oddly spaced gaps between the runes, and more elaborate framing.

"Speak to me, my flame." I said, as Myta approached and helped me to my feet.

"Everyone other than you is largely uninjured," she replied. "Hati gained that stone armor just in time to shield herself and Jito in their fight. The enemy are all dead. They fought to the last."

"Unsurprising. Ramana's royal guards are renowned for their dedication, as much as their skill."

"So she is one of Ramana's court?"

"One of his family." I waved toward the woman, who was now staring about with wide eyes. "Girl, come over here."

"My name is Sati'ramana, not girl! And I command that you..." she cut off abruptly as I squashed her sorcery. She has been attempting to overawe us with her presence, but my practice with Myta made it trivial to suppress.

"I can't imagine why you let the Pure contaminate your spirit, but you won't be giving me any commands until I find a way to break this bond."

I searched about for the ward, a clever thing of infused leather and embossed silver. I drained the mane from it, then folded it up as it was clearly designed to be. Ket was beside me, only moments later.

*How went your battle, veth? I see you have collected another." She looked over at the princess, who was currently gaping like a landed fish.

"As well as we could have expected. You can tell Kubek that the contagion has been ended, and those who spread it have been dealt with, or soon will be. But before you go, I wanted to ask you about that." I waved at Myta's glaive, which was a little less eye-catching now that she wasn't channeling mana through it.

*That is something unique, a legendary construct. Very few are capable of forming such a thing. Are you willing to share how it was made?*

I told her the details, starting with my condensing of Myta's poisoned mana, and ending with the intervention of the altered spirit.

*You changed the very nature of the spirit, and then it hid within your domain?*

"Is that what happened? I thought I could feel the spirit's presence, but I couldn't find it."

*Most certainly. You act as a bridge now, and spirits can pass into the Radiant Sea through you. It is a powerful bargaining chip, but only if you can guard that passage. As for the construct, I can tell you little you have not already surmised. It is anima, so dense that it may take on physical form when charged. A mighty gift for your vas.*

"I suppose we are done now then. Thank you for your assistance Ket. After these last months, I consider you a friend."

*Your company pleased me Esur. Yes, I consider you a friend as well.* With that, the spirit turned and leapt away.