Read Online Soul's Reckoning (Broken Well Trilogy) by Sam Bowring - Free Book Online
Authors: Sam Bowring
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‘You,Lord Battu, stand upon the very bridge of morning and entreat me to find you chastened ?’
Battu flung his arms wide, forcing his eyes open, tears streaming as he stared into the sun. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes, my lord.’
The mountains ceased their trembling.
‘Then receive my messenger,’ said Arkus.
A twitter sounded from above. A small bird swooped down and landed on Battu’s outstretched hand, transparent save for the glowing lines that defined its body, and its distinctive blood-drop eyes. Fahren felt his stomach lurch as he realised who it was.
‘Iassia,’ he murmured.
The weaver cocked his head. ‘The very same,’ he said. ‘And I must thank you for this brief respite from my cage. For reasons known best to himself, our judicious lord has granted me the honour of binding Battu to his word.’
Battu stared at the tiny creature in horror, his arm frozen as if a venomous spider sat upon it. ‘But I have already betrayed the Dark Gods,’ he said, ‘and can never return to their service. I have journeyed here, to the light’s most sacred place, forsaking all that I once was. Why,’ he shouted to the valley, ‘must I be bound?’
‘Because,’ said Iassia, ‘as your death comes creeping, your fear of what lies beyond may overpower all else. What does Assedrynn have in store for you, should you return to him? Perhaps he’ll lock you away forever in a place containing nothing at all but your own thoughts, only letting you out to serve as a reminder of what can happen when we lesser beings incur the ire of gods. Or perhaps he will be more creative.’
The sun seemed to flare behind him, and Iassia gave a fearful twitter.
‘Faced with such punishment,’ he continued, ‘who knows what changes of heart the future brings, when grand examples can already be seen in your past, Battu. And, since you are required to retain your shadowy aspect in order to be of use to us, we cannot simply “cure” you of it and welcome you to the fold. You remain a hugger in the hen house, and hence require muzzling.’
‘If you’re true to us as you say,’ added Fahren quietly, ‘then such a binding changes nothing.’ Internally he felt the hypocrisy in his words – there was no reason, however noble, why he would enjoy sacrificing his free will to a weaver.
Iassia’s eyes flicked to his. ‘Well, well,’ he said. ‘Look whose tongue’s worn smooth as a river stone. Thank you for your help, Throne Fahren, but I do not need you to put gloss on my words.’
Fahren felt tangible hatred from the bird then, and he realised that Iassia’s return to Arkus had not changed him a bit. Why did the Sun God not simply destroy him, and return his soul to the Great Well?
‘But,’ said Battu slowly, ‘in order to bind me to your will, you have to make a deal with me.’
‘Correct,’ said Iassia.
‘Which means you must do something for me.’
‘And so I will. Now, submit.’
‘But –’
‘Submit, Battu! Open your mind!’
Battu’s eyes snapped shut, and he snarled. ‘Do it, then.’
Iassia took off to hover before Battu a moment, then tapped his brow with his beak. Battu flinched. As the bird set down on the bridge before them, Battu slowly opened his eyes. Fahren noticed that, as the sun continued to rise, the bridge was growing less defined.
Not much time left, and I have not even asked what I came here to.
‘It seems we have an accord,’ chirped Iassia. ‘And as your favour to me, you will help the light achieve victory over the shadow until your dying day.’
‘Only that?’ said Battu. ‘And what favour will you do for me, not yet agreed on, and unasked for?’
‘I shall remove the foreign threads from your mind,’ said Iassia.
‘What?’
‘Did you not know? You spent too long with the sharks, Battu.’
Iassia spread his wings low, and Battu gave a jerk. From out of his forehead emerged shadowy lines, twitching like worms. They floated away, fading from the world. Battu
Battu flung his arms wide, forcing his eyes open, tears streaming as he stared into the sun. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes, my lord.’
The mountains ceased their trembling.
‘Then receive my messenger,’ said Arkus.
A twitter sounded from above. A small bird swooped down and landed on Battu’s outstretched hand, transparent save for the glowing lines that defined its body, and its distinctive blood-drop eyes. Fahren felt his stomach lurch as he realised who it was.
‘Iassia,’ he murmured.
The weaver cocked his head. ‘The very same,’ he said. ‘And I must thank you for this brief respite from my cage. For reasons known best to himself, our judicious lord has granted me the honour of binding Battu to his word.’
Battu stared at the tiny creature in horror, his arm frozen as if a venomous spider sat upon it. ‘But I have already betrayed the Dark Gods,’ he said, ‘and can never return to their service. I have journeyed here, to the light’s most sacred place, forsaking all that I once was. Why,’ he shouted to the valley, ‘must I be bound?’
‘Because,’ said Iassia, ‘as your death comes creeping, your fear of what lies beyond may overpower all else. What does Assedrynn have in store for you, should you return to him? Perhaps he’ll lock you away forever in a place containing nothing at all but your own thoughts, only letting you out to serve as a reminder of what can happen when we lesser beings incur the ire of gods. Or perhaps he will be more creative.’
The sun seemed to flare behind him, and Iassia gave a fearful twitter.
‘Faced with such punishment,’ he continued, ‘who knows what changes of heart the future brings, when grand examples can already be seen in your past, Battu. And, since you are required to retain your shadowy aspect in order to be of use to us, we cannot simply “cure” you of it and welcome you to the fold. You remain a hugger in the hen house, and hence require muzzling.’
‘If you’re true to us as you say,’ added Fahren quietly, ‘then such a binding changes nothing.’ Internally he felt the hypocrisy in his words – there was no reason, however noble, why he would enjoy sacrificing his free will to a weaver.
Iassia’s eyes flicked to his. ‘Well, well,’ he said. ‘Look whose tongue’s worn smooth as a river stone. Thank you for your help, Throne Fahren, but I do not need you to put gloss on my words.’
Fahren felt tangible hatred from the bird then, and he realised that Iassia’s return to Arkus had not changed him a bit. Why did the Sun God not simply destroy him, and return his soul to the Great Well?
‘But,’ said Battu slowly, ‘in order to bind me to your will, you have to make a deal with me.’
‘Correct,’ said Iassia.
‘Which means you must do something for me.’
‘And so I will. Now, submit.’
‘But –’
‘Submit, Battu! Open your mind!’
Battu’s eyes snapped shut, and he snarled. ‘Do it, then.’
Iassia took off to hover before Battu a moment, then tapped his brow with his beak. Battu flinched. As the bird set down on the bridge before them, Battu slowly opened his eyes. Fahren noticed that, as the sun continued to rise, the bridge was growing less defined.
Not much time left, and I have not even asked what I came here to.
‘It seems we have an accord,’ chirped Iassia. ‘And as your favour to me, you will help the light achieve victory over the shadow until your dying day.’
‘Only that?’ said Battu. ‘And what favour will you do for me, not yet agreed on, and unasked for?’
‘I shall remove the foreign threads from your mind,’ said Iassia.
‘What?’
‘Did you not know? You spent too long with the sharks, Battu.’
Iassia spread his wings low, and Battu gave a jerk. From out of his forehead emerged shadowy lines, twitching like worms. They floated away, fading from the world. Battu
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