19 Sowing Seeds

Marietta Stone - The Wyverns of old are our history. The wyverns of now are our present. By the charred corpse of my mother, there will be no wyverns ruling over us in the future.

Joan questioned my sly smile, but after breaking through a dozen planks of wood, we opened the doorway towards an empty room. After a moment passed, a sound like a steel shield being ripped apart sounded through the entire building.

Moonlight soaked in through holes and through the windows, casting every ounce of the dilapidated furniture in shades of shadow. These patches of darkness flew through the air like living pieces of black before molding into a blob at the center of the room.

A shifty silhouette formed before a man with gray beard and small scars lining his face walked from shade. The patch of onyx stuck against him as he walked forward, so he pushed through the raven blotch, stretching the sheet as he did so.

Cracks formed in the darkness before a plank of wood snapped under his foot. My reflexes propelled me forward as I caught him before he fell on the ground. Gripping the darkness, I tore it from him before he gasped for breath while glancing around the room.

Galen’s eyes met mine before they widened with horror as he said, “Where is she?”

Of course, my feet stabbed through the wood as well, so I pulled him up and placed him beside Joan. The umbral blanket between them kept their reunion at bay, so I removed a glowing chunk of alexandrite from my pocket, exposing them both.

In disbelief, they gazed at one another. The surreal scene created a flash of rejection for them both. I’d kept this meeting a secret from Joan. I desired a poignant and palpable impact. So far, my plan did not disappoint.

Regardless, after they absorbed the sight of one another, Galen pulled Joan against him as he said, “I can’t believe it. You’re alive. You’re alive.”

His voice cracked as he said so, but Joan hugged him back as she said, “Of course I am Bubba.”

His mane of gray laid across his shoulders while his full beard crinkled as he said, “Are you alright? What has he done to you?”

She beamed with a teasing smile before she said, “Well, a lot of things. Mostly good I’d say.”

He blinked twice before pointing towards me and saying, “That monster? That inhuman savage?”

She rolled her eyes before laughing as she said, “Come on Bubba. He isn’t that bad.”

He refused the reality in front of him before turning towards me, brandishing his leather cape as he said, “Have you broke her mind till she could no longer determine who or what anything is?”

I frowned as I said, “You’re due an explanation. We can walk outside and discuss a few details.”

With a stubborn reluctance that carried through their bloodline, Galen relented and followed me outside as the sound of moldy wood crumbling echoed in the room.

Having destroyed the deserted shack, we paced out behind the building before Galen said,

“How did you escape the Palisade’s purge?”

Joan shook her head as she said, “I didn’t.” She poked me as she said, “He did.”

He glanced towards me before I gave my most galvanizing grin. More surprised than pleased, Galen said, “I don’t understand…You’re like a different person.”

I balanced my hands before I said, “Eh, I sort of am. You see, I share my body with another soul. He’s a rather…uhh…draconian individual with his own values and virtues. I’m the more normal of us two.”

He squinted his eyes as he said, “There is nothing normal about either of you.”

I slicked back my hair as I said, “I know, I know, I’m not ordinary…I’m extraordinary.”

Joan laughed before he turned towards her and said, “Is it really that funny Joan? Have you seen what he can do? He’s the Darkened One. If you don’t get away from him, he’ll corrupt you just as he corrupted all of Mareovosa.”

I rolled my eyes before I said, “Tell me, are you corrupted?”

He frowned as he said, “I am strong of spirit.”

I glanced down as I pinched the bridge of my nose before I laid a hand on his shoulder and said, “So were many of the professors and students of Mareovosa. Do you think so highly of yourself?”

He glanced at his hands before he said, “Am I now tainted?”

I patted the edge of his shoulder before standing back up as I said, “No, you’re not. I’ve never tainted anyone.”

He lowered his hands before saying, “What are you?”

“I’m Jack Donovan and something else named Deluge. I’m on a journey to destroy the remnants of Gaia, and end the degradation she causes on this world.”

He raised an eyebrow before saying, “Jack Donovan? You’re their missing son?”

I frowned before I said, “What?”

“The Donovan’s had an heir who abandoned his inheritance for some unknown reason. They’ve been searching for his son for a long time now since he’ll be a part of their royal selection.”

Joan and I puffed out skeptical laughs before I said, “Of course. I’ll be Jericho, the saint, the Darkened One, and the king all at once.”

A light laugh escaped his lips, almost unconsciously before he said, “You’re Jericho as well?”

I shrugged my shoulders as I said, “I’m a man of many faces and even more masks.”

He nodded before taking a step back towards Joan and saying, “Well, enjoy fooling the world with your guises. Joan and I hope it all works out for you.”

He grabbed Joan’s hand before Joan jerked it from him as she said, “I’m not leaving Jack.”

Galen turned towards her as he said, “What? You want to be his prisoner?”

She shook her head before saying, “Uhh, well…It’s more like I’m his lover.”

Galen’s knees toppled like broken matches before he turned his head, the slow, strained movement requiring every part of his perseverance. His eyes met Joan’s before he said,

“Has he violated you as well? I can’t believe it. First an heir of the king now some huge monster. It must have hur-”

Through the tan of her skin, Joan’s face colored crimson before she snapped, “No, no he did not. That’s so damn embarrassing Bubba. What the hell is wrong with you!”

My shoulders shook as my torso bounced as I snickered at them both. They glared in unison, like angry wolves with blood dripping in their drool. The sight sent a hill down my spine, yet it warmed my heart as well.

Relishing the scene, I lunged onto one knee before placing a hand on Galen’s shoulder as I said, “I’m just glad you both love one another. I was worried you’d be on bad terms after what you said earlier. I’m glad my worries are left unanswered.”

He glanced towards Joan as he said, “I was the one who helped her get to Petra at the university. I knew there’s was no chance she’d marry that bastard. Not if I had any say in it.”

Even as he said that, a deep discomfort coursed through him. The same madness of Petra surged in his mind. His hands writhed with agitation and ire at my touch. His eyes never settled still on mine; his glance darted around my face instead.

With this in mind, I released him before I said, “I feel like an intruder standing between you two. I’ll leave you at your leisure.”

Joan reached out as she said, “Ah, you don’t have to-“

Galen set his hand on hers before saying, “I think it’s for the best if he left. I’m still…uncomfortable around him.”

I nodded as I said, “I can relate. Deluge disturbed me as well whenever we first met. Enjoy your talk.”

Joan let her arm flop on her side before she said, “Alright, I guess. I’ll come back later tonight.”

With those parting words, I left them alone, my chest swelling with pride. I’d reunited her with one of her family members, though their relationship would warp due to Joan’s circumstances. Still, this outcome proved better than her having nothing left from her old life.

That judgment of mine, it was a form of self-deception, a beautiful lie I believed in, but I learned that long before I skinned Galen alive.

Prosperity

Deluge and Sophia made many breakthroughs using information derived from the golems. Her self-taught soul forging filled in the gaps between Deluge’s vast and intrinsic knowledge of how souls operated.

They’d figured out processes for soul forging that eased the stress on the soul with the Donovan’s diagrams. It presented an interesting proposition – longer lasting, more easily crafted golems. Deluge, would you mind explaining?

Your own descriptions would lack any semblance of detail, so I must. Soul forging operated on the grounds of two key principles: taming and resonance. In soul forging, taming meant destroying the destructive impulses of whatever soul you were using. On the other hand, resonance dictated how strong the bond would be between the soul and the stone body of the golem.

The Donovan’s rune scheme opened up another world of tinkering for Sophia and I. We altered the rune structure into a discordant, wild structure, creating a natural pathway for the soul to follow. It proved fruitful in more ways than one.

It inhibited aggression since the weaving pathways required a calmer mind for maneuvering through them. It amplified the resonance of the soul since it could hold all of the soul’s power. However, the most important detail remained the increase in longevity.

The labyrinth of lines created a tight hold on the stretched soul. Like rain flowing out a winding waterway, the soul’s strength dripped out instead of pouring. The problem became this new rune’s implementation.

The complexity and depth of the carvings would be impossible for human hands. Aether’s mastery in etching assisted us during the process, but he hated golems. I harbored the same feelings. I wouldn’t ask him to create the same shackles that imprisoned him. Even I would go mad in similar circumstances.

Still, he helped us with a little goading from Sophia. Their friendship had blossomed into a blooming friendship flower. My wording needs work. They spent much of their time together, like a tick on the back of a dog. I’ll leave the beautiful imagery in Jack’s hands. Bleh.

That same sweetness left me wondering how Aether would feel whenever Sophia died long before he did. I never spoke of it, but the painful reality settled in my uneasy stomach with a sinking agitation. I quieted this twisting turmoil with a simple, timeless sentence.

You can live your life, or you can wait to die. In the pool of souls I carry, I’ve seen the thoughts of dying men. They rarely regret what they’ve done. It is the words they never said or the actions they never enacted that haunt them. I won’t idle as they did. Even if my immortal life ends, I will leave a legacy long after my last breath. Those who remain, they will remember.

Why remind Aether of regrets? I will let him enjoy his young companion. I will let him cherish his child.

Those thoughts echoed in my mind. They drove me forward as we studied night after night. Within three weeks, we’d accomplished a near perfect golem. A golem much like Aether, though not of the same visionary scale.

With this knowledge at hand, we harvested and manufactured several dozen of these golems. By using Jericho’s fame, we revealed our creation as Sophia’s own invention. Instead of monetizing the invention, we shared it with everyone. The Donovans, the countess, the schools of the city and even the normal citizens. They all learned in intricate and excruciating detail of our invention.

Under Jericho’s name, we donated a set of thirty golems for the city’s slaves. The process proved complex, but the slave owners accepted with open arms. Golems worked during night and during day. They never needed rest or food or shelter. They would work until the soul within them dispersed.

Jack, or I suppose Jericho was inducted in to the Donovan family, creating a wave through the upper echelon of Bastion’s society. Such a powerful and able minded heir, he’d no doubt be invited into their selection process for the next heir. The irony of the situation amused me to no end. Jack Donovan, the exiled member of their family, the bastard son of a fickle father, he could only become a true Donovan by denouncing his name.

Joan met with Galen often after their first talk. He helped her advance her training, she in return gave him her attention. Nothing pleases a grandfather more than a respectable legacy. He saw that in her.

The slaves of the city found new work with the town’s new function – forging new golems made of metal. Using white hot steel and alloys, they crafted the complex carvings into these new, powerful bodies. Like melting the rust off old iron, they found new life in their new industry. This city of slaves transformed into a city of soulforging.

A feeling unlike any other brimmed in my and Jack’s chest. It was a giddy, gloating sense of self satisfaction. I embraced the emotion. Jack did not. We left the city soon after, and once more, we’d left it grander than when we’d arrived.

That died after we left Nelastra, along with everyone else.