Soul Weaver Read online

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, countries, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 Eric J. Vann

  Map by Jessica Khoury

  Character art by Eudia

  ISBN: 978-1-5136-4528-5

  To my family,

  Whose love and support made writing this story possible.

  Contents

  Map

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Epilogue

  Author’s Notes/Gallery

  Prologue

  “Sir, the reports for the day,” the young man with messy brown hair announced, placing a sheaf of documents on his superior’s desk.

  The long-haired elf sitting behind it did not look up. “Let me guess, Negan. Nothing new?” He turned a page in the small but thickly-bound book he was studying.

  “Actually,” the young man began, “there was something different…”

  The elf stopped what he was doing to look up at once, his silken blond beard trailing across the desk. “Really?” he asked, a hint of excitement in his voice.

  “Of course not.” Negan grinned. “After all these years of waiting, do you think this place would be so calm if anything had happened?”

  The elf sighed, but then a small smile graced his face. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. You could actually act like the trainee you’re supposed to be and read something.” He gestured to the endless shelves stacked with books around them, before turning back to his own book. “You are standing in the greatest collection of knowledge ever collected in one place, after all.”

  “What has you so engrossed in this one, Vhal?” The young man stepped around the desk to stand beside him. “I thought you read everything in here already?”

  Vhal adjusted his spectacles and again glanced up, one eyebrow raised. “It would take a hundred years to read everything in here. And you know you’re not supposed to shorten my name or act so friendly, Negan. I am your mentor and superior, after all.”

  “But you elves of noble houses have such long names! And speaking to you is the only fun thing I can do here. The rest are always so serious.”

  Vhal tapped his finger a few times against the desk and stared at his trainee with a passive expression. The younger man began to fidget slightly, before finally sighing in defeat.

  “Vhal’nuel, what’s so interesting about that book?” he asked in an overly polite tone.

  Vhal shook his head. It was always like this with the newer ones. “We just received a new shipment of books from the capital. I must say, the emperor’s decree that all books and documents entering the empire be copied was a masterstroke. This one is a particularly interesting find. It goes into great detail regarding the nature of the necrotic arts—it even has a few spells and rituals… fascinating stuff, really.”

  Negan smiled. “If only I could be so excited about books.” He took a seat beside Vhal and started whistling lightly, causing the elf to flinch.

  “Is that truly necessary, Negan?”

  His trainee seemed about to reply when the sound of clanking metal made them both turn. Two armed and heavily armored-men had entered the library from the direction of the restricted section to the rear, holding nondescript boxes in their arms. Both were wearing gold-lined black cloaks with a silver phoenix embroidered at the center, the heraldry of the Caelian Empire and its Imperial Family.

  As they passed, one of the guards glanced at Vhal, their eyes meeting for a moment. There was something there, but Vhal couldn’t put his finger on it.

  “The Imperial Guard has been around a lot lately, and the regular guards have all but vanished as well,” Negan whispered when the men were out of earshot. “Do you think the emperor is here?”

  “The Imperial Family has every right to be here,” Vhal replied crisply. “The Facility and everything within it, including you I might add, belongs to them, and their ancestors invested a lot of time and resources in making it comfortable over the years. You must know that expanding this place in any way is a colossal undertaking… The mountain rock makes sure of that.”

  Vhal did not usually pay much attention to the comings and goings of the guards, but was Negan right? It was not his place to question such things… but there was something else which scratched at his mind. He did not recognize these guards. They were not the same men who usually accompanied the imperial family.

  Vhal closed the book before him with a loud thud, startling his companion. He stood and slipped the book into an inner pocket of his multilayered black robes, then picked up the documents on his desk and began walking away. Negan jogged after him to keep up.

  “I hear there’s is a lot of trouble brewing all over the empire,” the young man whispered. “Something about the Jannatin tribesmen being up in arms. And of course, the Ejani never lets a chance like some internal strife go by without taking a swing at us.” He glanced quickly to either side. “I even heard there were riots in the capital,” he continued ominously. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? You must have some access to the outside.”

  Vhal stopped, frowning, “Other than having my own room and office, I have no other privileges as the lead researcher.” He raised one eyebrow. “But do tell: how did you come to hear such rumors?”

  “Uhhh… well, the guards like to talk when they think no one is around…” Negan replied, a little guiltily.

  Vhal sighed. “How many times do I need to tell you this, Negan? That part of the Facility is off limits. You’ll get yourself killed, or worse, over silly rumors. Why does it matter to you what happens on the border? We have our hands full with researching the artifact, for the greater glory of the empire. Anything else is a distraction.”

  Negan took a step back, looking Vhal straight in the eye. “I can’t help it! We’re practically prisoners here. We can’t leave or send letters to anyone—and all in the name of secrecy for a project so old most of us don’t know when it even started!” His hands balled into fists at his sides. “Meanwhile, the emperor and his daughter come and go as they please. I’ve heard that the emperor has even brought guests with him on more than one occasion. How secret can this place really be if—?”

  Vhal grabbed the young man and pushed him against the wall. “Have you lost your mind, child?” he growled. “What if one of the Imperial Guards heard you speak of such things?”

  Negan blinked, shocked. Slowly, Vhal released him and let out a deep breath.

  “Listen to me for once, Negan. You can resent the fact you are here due to events not within your control, but you must accept the situation and move on.” Vhal’s tone was not without sympathy. “You are here and you will remain here, so you must make the best of it.”

  Negan looked down at his feet and c
losed his eyes for a few seconds before replying. “I really hate it here, you know,” he said. “I miss the capital, the open air… and, of course, the girls,” he added, with feeling. “I might have been a second son, but I am still from a noble family. I don’t understand why they couldn’t get some commoners in here instead.”

  Vhal sighed. It had already been a long day. “We are all from noble families. You should be thankful to the emperor for giving you the opportunity to study, learn, and serve the empire’s interest here, instead of some far-flung outpost in the middle of nowhere. These commoners you speak of would beg for a fraction of what you’re getting. Now go back to your studies, I have important tasks to attend to.”

  At that, Vhal turned and strode away, giving his trainee no chance to respond, his path illumined by red crystals affixed to the library walls.

  Inside the sanctuary of his office, he hardly glanced at the murals painted on the carved rock walls, depicting different events in the history of the Empire. Large piles of documents, files, and leather-covered books were haphazardly strewn around the room dominated by a large oak desk and chair. To Vhal’s surprise, his chair was already occupied.

  “Took you long enough,” the blue-eyed elf sitting there said. She smiled and coiled a lock of blonde hair between her fingers. She wore robes of the same design as Vhal’s, though hers were green instead of black.

  “Eleanor,” Vhal said as he walked closer to her. “I believe you’re in my spot.”

  “Oh, my mistake. I knew something felt different,” she replied coyly, getting up and allowing Vhal to sit—only to plant herself on his lap a moment later. “That’s better,” she cooed.

  Vhal chuckled and gave her a light kiss on the lips. “As much as I love our time together, I do need to go over today’s reports.”

  Eleanor grinned, then slowly moved her hands to reach under his robes. “You know as well as I do that it’s just business as usual with the artifact, Vhal. Let’s do something a bit more fun.”

  “I really do hate hearing people refer to it as that,” Vhal complained, but he was already leaning back, his eyes closed, enjoying her attentions.

  “Yes, dear. We’ve heard you rail about it being a living thing a million times before. But we are researchers, and until we find some actual evidence… well, we’ll go with what we know,” she said, a touch wearily, but her hands never stopped working.

  Vhal leaned back further, letting his mind drift pleasantly. He had been in this place for most of his long elven life. How different would it have been if he hadn’t been chosen for this assignment? In a different life, perhaps, he and Eleanor would be married and have their own family by now. He sighed contently, before pulling his lover close into a deep, passionate kiss—only to be interrupted by an ear-splitting whistle. Eleanor jumped at the sound, bumping her head lightly against his in surprise.

  “What in the world?” she shouted, in an attempt to be heard over the racket. They both looked up to see a small, white, almost translucent crystal descend from a hidden compartment in the ceiling. The crystal was spinning rapidly. It appeared to be the source of the awful noise.

  It took a moment for all this to register in Vhal’s mind, but when it did, he sprang to his feet, dragging Eleanor with him as he dashed from his office.

  “That’s the general alarm!” he yelled. “We must get to the storeroom, quickly!”

  Eleanor nodded, finally realizing what the sound represented. As far as Vhal knew, this was the first time it had ever been activated.

  They ran past several smaller offices, then a portion of the library, before passing through a large metal gate and into the part of the facility Vhal had only recently warned his trainee not to enter. As they did, others joined them, each wearing different-colored robes indicating their research and magic specializations.

  “Where are the guards?” one called out from behind.

  “I don’t know,” Vhal yelled back, “but we can talk about this after we get in there!” They passed through another large metal gate leading to the storeroom. The alarm still rang as Vhal quickly took a head count, then slammed his hand into the center of the metal gate. A low hum sounded from deep within as the intricate engravings on its surface glowed. The light spread quickly, taking only a few moments to cover the whole surface. When it did, the entire gate—which Vhal estimated to weigh several tons—groaned and slowly began to swing shut.

  Even with the powerful enchantments in place, it took a few moments for the heavy gate to seal itself fully with a loud clang. Thankfully, there was no alarm crystal in here, but they could still hear a muffled version of it from the other side of the gate.

  Vhal let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “All right everyone, just stay calm. Once things are safe, the alarm will be shut down and the gate should open on its own.”

  “Uhhh… sir?” a familiar voice asked from behind the circle of researchers.

  “Yes, Negan?” Vhal sighed. “What is it?”

  “This place is completely empty. All I can find is some cutlery and a bunch of random books.”

  Vhal frowned. When he pushed his way through, he found to his surprise that Negan was right. The storeroom—which was just an elongated room dug into the mountain rock—was meant to be stocked with enough food and medical supplies to last several months. But the boxes were cracked, strewn about the floor, while the cupboards had been thrown open. Everything was empty. He would almost call it looted… but that was impossible. It would have been easier to rob the Imperial Palace than to get in here.

  Before Vhal could rearrange his erratic thoughts, the muffled alarm fell silent. He turned and along with everyone else, stared at the gate, expecting it to open. But it stayed exactly as it was.

  “Vhal’nuel?” a short girl wearing blue robes asked.

  Vhal blinked a few times, then walked briskly up to the gate. He placed his hand on the center and spoke the password he had been taught when he first became the lead researcher.

  “Aslan Da Caelian.”

  He had always thought using the name of the first emperor as a password was somewhat weak, but it wasn’t his place to do anything about that.

  The gate hummed for a moment. Then a bright spark shot through Vhal’s palm, slamming him backward as he screamed in pain.

  His ears were ringing. He could hear Eleanor yell something, along with a few gasps from the others behind him, but he couldn’t understand any of it. His whole body felt like it was on fire—he was fairly sure the area where the spark struck him had been for a brief moment. Thinking he must have pronounced the name wrong, he gritted his teeth and placed his hand back on the gate.

  “Aslan Da Caelian,” he said again.

  The second shock brought him to his knees.

  Hands, including those of his trainee and his lover, grabbed to pull him away from the gate.

  “I don’t understand,” Vhal whispered hoarsely. “It should have opened. Why isn’t it opening?”

  Eleanor placed her hand on top of his, and a cloud of green mist seeped out of her fingers and swirled around him. Vhal closed his eyes as his injuries began to heal. Eleanor leaned closer, whispering calming words until his breathing returned to normal.

  “Someone out there will notice we are missing,” she said. “Soon, they will open the gate.”

  But Vhal thought about the missing supplies, and the rather suspiciously short period the alarm had kept running after they had locked themselves in. He didn’t want to add to the stress and panic the others were feeling, however, so he nodded reassuringly.

  They were trapped in here. And he couldn’t help but think it was by someone’s design.

  Vhal clasped both his hands tightly, one around his lover’s hand and the other around the book he had forgotten he still had tucked away in his inner pocket. His mind raced: how and why could such a thing have happened to them, and who could have reasonably pulled it off? It was an exercise which oddly helped to calm his fears, yet fa
nned the rage that was starting to build in his heart.

  Chapter 1

  As the morning sun slowly crept into the sky, Celia jerked up from her improvised bedroll, gasping. Her eyes were frantic and her skin glistened with sweat.

  Safe, she told herself, until her breathing calmed. You’re safe.

  Slowly, she wiped away the sweat with a ragged cloth, a remnant of an old shirt. Then she packed up the few belongings she owned, covered any tracks she had left, and buried the ashes from last night’s campfire. As she did, her thoughts returned to the dream again. She had thought she’d gotten over this particular one, but every now and then it came back to haunt her.

  It had been just over ten years since the fateful night that led to her transformation, resulting in her fleeing her home for strange lands and ending up here, in self-exile among the Central Wilds. Before that, she had been a normal fourteen-year-old human girl living with her parents in a small, dreary farming village within the Jannatin Empire. Celia was one of the relatively few fortunate humans found to be gifted with the ability to weave magic in her village, so the regional mages’ guild had sponsored her attendance at special classes in the nearby town. Celia had spent every possible moment she could there. She loved learning about the world, its history, and how to weave her gift. It had been a mostly quiet life.

  But after that night, everything had changed. Celia retrieved a worn-out green cloth from her bag. Her fingers traced the knitting as her lips broke into a small smile. It was the only item she had left from home, the last remnant of her old life. Her mother had made this for her to keep her warm on her way to and from mage school, but now she was using it to keep warm at night and hide what she had become during the day. Celia’s smile evaporated as she wrapped the cloth around her head and neck. She let out a deep breath before she strode into the dense forest.

  For many years after her transformation, she had kept moving, staying only short stretches of time in any one place. Most of this time was spent in the Kingdom of Maiv, a poor and relatively young country nestled between two hostile and much larger nations—to the west lay the United Princedoms of Odana, known for their massive palaces and slave markets. To the east, the country of her birth, the Jannatin Empire, a militaristic and economic powerhouse in the region, but for the fact it had so many different groups vying for control of their own piece of it.