Soul Census - War of Shadows - Book 1

Chapter 7.5 - White Fire

Earth Date: 26th of February 1348 CE
Location: The Window Room, Soul Sphere

Zarad gazed at the collapsing walls. Sections came falling down, and as they reached the ground, they disintegrated into brown leaves. White fire crept up in thin lines that stretched out like arteries, hugging and consuming the pristine structure.

The most precious room in the Soul Sphere—the one place where Zarad had hoped to get a glimpse of Aloli’s incarnate life—was crumbling down around him… and it was his own fault.

“Zarad, do not panic,” Vero’s voice spoke. “You can still stop this destruction.”

“You are a liar!” Zarad spat. “I will never trust you again.”

Zarad watched the walls bleed an amber syrup. The life windows began to wink out one by one like blown candles.

“You must release the Reaper, Zarad,” Vero said.

“I will never do that,” Zarad said. “I will not be a pawn in your plan, Vero.”

“This is no longer about the plan,” Vero said. “This destruction will spread to the rest of the Soul Sphere. The Sacred Tree itself could be destroyed. The Reaper can stop that. It can consume the white fire.”

“More lies,” Zarad said. “I will never believe your words again.”

Zarad sidestepped a pile of rubble that plummeted to the ground near him. As it touched the floor, it melted into a pile of dead leaves.

“Do not let your anger blind you,” Vero said. “Only you have the power to release the Reaper. And only the Reaper has the power to stop this.”

Zarad gazed down at his core, at the splattering of purple. Where was the wisdom he supposedly carried in him? He was not advanced enough to be the Caretaker. He should not have taken the assignment.

Yet Vero was right: Zarad was the only one who could fix this mess now. There was no Spirit Council here, no Elders… just him. And if he ever hoped to see Aloli again, he would have to save the Soul Sphere. Only by giving Aloli a chance to reincarnate and progress would she become advanced enough for them to be together again. If the Soul Sphere was destroyed, there would be no Cycle. No reincarnation.

A horrible sound erupted through the chamber, like a scream and a cry for help… a cry from the Sacred Tree.

“I hate you, Vero,” Zarad whispered.

With that, he leapt into the air. As he flew through the center of the spiraling halls, he saw one of the floors break away. He spun and barely evaded the debris. An explosion erupted somewhere around him. He could hear what sounded like shattered glass, coupled with a snapping, crackling sound of energy.

Zarad shielded himself, flapping his wings harder. He nearly overshot the level but managed to plant himself where he wanted. The flames erupted like a waterfall before him—in front of the Reaper’s portal. He swiped at them with his sword, but the fire snapped at him like angry serpents.

The wave of heat washed over him. It was the first time in a very long time that he’d felt pain. He brought his wings forward to help shield him, but the flames soon ripped through them, tearing at his inner core. Fire danced across his body, eating away at it.

Everything told him to go back, to get away from this agony, but he had to do this. He had to save the Sacred Tree. Zarad pressed forward even as the fire consumed him. Pieces of his wings crumbled off like dried leaves, and his energy melted away.

Fighting through the pain, he managed a glimpse of the crystal key. Then it vanished.

Images of Aloli came to him. Memories of another life… a happy life together. A better place. A place without pain and suffering. He saw her face smiling in front of him… and then the flames took it away.

The pain snapped him out of it. Zarad growled and jumped forward. He stretched out his hand, touching the key. Concentrating on keeping together what energy he had left, he inched forward until he had a firm grip on the crystal… and then pulled it.

Zarad collapsed.

He heard a tearing sound. The fires went out, and then he felt a loud thump near him. Zarad managed a glimpse.

It was the Reaper.

Now out of his cage, the Reaper raised its arms into the air. Its featureless face opened up, and a great mouth became visible. It was like a massive cave with no end. Inside, the tortured screams of other souls echoed—whole worlds devoured by this creature.

Throughout the chamber the white fire lanced down and into the Reaper. It waved its arms up, absorbing the white fire. The shuddering stopped. The crumbling stopped. The fire was gone.

The Reaper then looked around, seemingly trying to assess its surroundings.

What have I done? Zarad thought.

He reached for the sword, only to find that it was nothing but a dry twig now.

“Vero be a liar,” a weak voice said.

It was Ninian, lying in a nearby corner, most of his body charred.

Zarad dragged himself closer to the pooka.

“Master manipulator Vero be,” he continued. “False truths, partial lies… details hidden from the real plan by Vero the deceiver .”

“What plan? What is his real plan?” Zarad said.

The pooka coughed, and black smoke came out of him. “Soon to know, Ninian may. Maybe one last incarnation before the plan put to motion …” The pooka fell silent, and his eyes closed.

Zarad crawled toward Ninian and nudged him. “Wake up!” Zarad said. “What is Vero’s plan? Tell me!”

Ninian’s eyes opened, and he coughed weakly. “To meet the Presence. A meeting with that which no longer wants from this world.”

“What?” Zarad said. “Why would he want that?”

Ninian coughed again—black smoke with a tinge of green mist this time. “Who is to say?” Ninian said. “Belief Vero has… many theories among the pookas. Many talks of why. Choose one as good as any.”

Movement caught Zarad’s attention, and he looked up to see the Reaper leap off the hallway and land on the chamber floor, disappearing from sight.

Zarad felt his ethereal energy scattering. He had to concentrate in order to keep his essence together.

“What are the theories, Ninian?” Zarad said. “Why do you think he is doing it?”

There was no answer from the pooka, only the ambient hum of the now quiet chamber.

All Zarad’s hope faded. Then a cough and words—the pooka was still alive.

“Vero …” Ninian said. “The deceiver believes to touch the Presence will grant him ascension beyond even that of the Elders.”

Zarad remembered the last conversation he’d had with Vero back at the fireplace in Aaru. How he’d said that the Elder Quorum did not actually talk to the Presence, but supposedly Vero did. Another lie… but one he intends to make true.

“How would stopping the Cycle help with that?” Zarad said. “How could he speak to the Presence?”

Ninian made a gurgling sound—perhaps a chuckle. “To get the attention of the Presence. The Presence has moved on to other realms… a great thing to be made in order to bring its eye here.”

Ninian coughed, his head now half-buried in the ground. Black smoke floated up from the side of his mouth.

Zarad could not believe what he was hearing. “He’s gone crazy,” he said.

The pooka made that same chuckling sound. “Misguided Vero may be. But if theory of true intentions be correct, then Vero’s plan be sound. What happens after meeting the Presence is where we pookas have uncertainty and fear.”

Zarad continued to mend his energy, and pieces of his ethereal body began to come back together, but he was still weak.

“What is it the pookas fear?” Zarad said.

Ninian took a moment to respond, coughing out more black and green smoke. He reached out a partially intact claw, pointing it toward something in the corner—the pearl globe. “Get me that,” he said. “Or Ninian be dead, and so be Zarad’s lingering questions.”

“Sorry, I’m too weak,” Zarad said.

A rumbling sound filled the chamber, and the illumination went red.

“What is that?” Zarad said.

“Get Ninian orb …” Ninian said. “Quickly …”

Zarad managed to stand and took the orb into his hand.

“Tell me, what is happening here?” Zarad said. “Or you’ll never get this.”

Ninian coughed, mostly green mist this time. “The Reaper be controlled by Vero. It be sending the Soul Sphere down to the Earth Realm… to crash it.”

Zarad almost dropped the globe. “How can that be? What does he hope to gain from that?”

But now Zarad could see pieces of the pooka’s body collapse into ashes before him. He clearly did not have much time left.

“Fine …” he said, reluctantly handing over the orb.

The moment Ninian’s hand touched it, it glowed bright, sending a blanket of white energy over his body. The ashes rolled together into clumps, reconstituting themselves into flesh. The pooka slowly stood on newly created legs. It was back to itself in seconds.

Ninian pointed the orb at Zarad.

Zarad lifted his hands up to block it. “I should not have trusted you,” Zarad said.

“Hold still,” Ninian said.

A bolt of light shot out of the globe and into Zarad.

The energy coursed through his body, invigorating him. His wings sprouted out once again, and the holes in his ethereal fabric mended. The pain was gone, and he was healed.

“Now,” Ninian said as he began to walk away, “Ninian must escape or be claimed by the reaping of souls.”

“Wait!” Zarad said. “How do we stop this?”

“This Rapture cannot be halted or undone,” Ninian said without stopping. “Late is the time and means for doing so unavailable. Zarad should not worry. The halo will protect Zarad from the reaping. But Ninian must now go to matters unattended before time’s interlude expires.”

“No! You have to help me,” Zarad said.

“Oh yes, help to be provided for Zarad by the turning of fate’s foe to friend,” he said. “Ninian will help Zarad stop Vero, as seeking balance is the pooka way. But must first return to the other pookas to conspire, plan, and gather strength. For goal to evolve from mere wish, plan must be manifested.”

Ninian turned around, holding the orb up. “Ninian will contact Zarad when moment and place are in alignment.”

With that the pooka vanished, just as the Window Room’s windows winked out and everything went dark, save for a bright yellow light shining from Zarad’s halo—and then an eerie moment of complete silence.

“What just—” Zarad began to say, but then it happened.

A scream from millions of souls all at once. The entire Soul Sphere seemed to split into two equal spheres. One physical… the other ethereal. It was as if the Soul Sphere had a soul and it was being ripped from its ethereal body.

Zarad covered his face. The screaming felt agonizing. It was as if the entire universe was in its death throes… the whole of existence stumbling into a chasm of still death.
He could not move, his body frozen and covered by a yellow aura from the halo. He wanted to move, to fight it. He wanted to fly out of there… away from that awful screaming. His entire being shook and his energy vibrated, rattling as if in a cage. It was only the power of the halo that kept his soul intact.

An eruption of red fire rose up from somewhere below, piercing the darkness. Within the fire, Zarad saw faces—faces of luminous beings darting madly through the Soul Sphere. Souls of people—men, women, children… scantily dressed in animal skins and feathers. Their souls ripped unexpectedly from their bodies and roaming in torment and confusion. Lost souls from Earth.

As he watched the calamity unfold, their faces and bodies changed.

Instead of human forms, their bodies grew bat-like wings and forked tails. Their faces became death—skeletal, with horns growing from their top, and fangs in place of teeth. They became demons wrapped in hellfire!

Zarad began to weep at the horror. Wishing he had never left his home in the Spirit Realm. Wishing he had never accepted the assignment as Caretaker. Wishing he could be with his soul mate, Aloli.

The calamity stopped. The fire was gone. The demons were gone. Even the screaming was gone… yet its echo lingered on in his mind. Not even the Fugue could make him forget this.

The halo finally released him. Zarad collapsed, feeling exhausted. His mind faded. Sleep overcame him. Thoughts of Aloli danced at the tip of consciousness …