Chapter 85: Lessons Before Bedtime Stories

The administrator had already picked up his severed hand and stuffed it in his robe. His demeanor surprised Trint as he was rushed but not hysterical. Blood was everywhere on his clothes, yet he still managed to remain controlled and run further into the city and away from the ruthless man. Their attention was quickly drawn from the one-handed man to the one who severed the hand.

“Are these your attackers?” He casually asked the question like asking for the salt. The swordsman dressed in flowing robes of orange and black inquired while showing no emotion or expression.

“Yes! Now punish them. I want you to kill one and torture the other,” the young noble shouted eagerly.

“Not here, Tigus, we can take them to the city jail or your father’s administrator. But no killing or torture now but a reprimand is appropriate,” he said while directing the guards to be ready with some hand signals.

“We meant the young master no harm and ask that you reconsider,” Pneuma humbly pleaded. “We would like to be on our way and can pay you as an offering of apology. This was a misunderstanding,” They offered while trying to avoid more issues but had been ready for anything.

“Shut up! Out of curiosity which did you want to kill?” The swordsman attempted to silence the humble offers and looked back at the young noble.

“Kill the one covering his face and torture the other man, but I want to watch,” the noble smiled as if satisfied with his victory over the local trash beneath him.

“That will not happen until your father’s administrator signs off on it. You already know, you were given three prior chances this year and now we must go through her before you can just kill another peasant. I nearly lost my head for casually following your commands. You ask too much of me.”

“Fine! Just give me one of his hands. They were going to harm me,” his partial victory nearly guaranteed only caused the young man to smile with wicked pleasure.

That is one broken puppy, Trint couldn’t help but shake his head.

We should put it down, Pneuma was all for some violence at this point.

No, we just agreed to go with them, Trint fought his desire to see this kid put in his place.

They have low regard for anyone beneath them plus I’m not going to pretend to allow them to take a hand. And besides this is so very cliché. Just say when you are ready, and I’ll cut a way out. Pneuma’s boredom and annoyance were already nearly exhausted.

If it comes to that fine but we should try to wait a bit before we start another slaughter, the man silently rebuked. The Cease battle was fun, but we intend to find opportunities in this city. Cutting our way out will waste our chances.

Still, that brat and the swordsman already deserve it and we haven’t known them for more than a few moments, Pneuma challenged but showed his agreement with a response.

“Fine we agree to go along,” Pneuma bowed halfway at the waste without losing eye contact but showing compliance, “But…we’ll be keeping our hands.”

“See even now they are arrogant peasants. Talking to their betters as if they had a choice,” the lordling barked and spit towards Pneuma’s covered face.

“Yes, and they will be judged.” The swordsman spoke as if nothing else were possible. Then moved faster than any of the other guards could hope to react. He had drawn his sword and stepped in to remove Trint’s hand at the wrist.

The move was faster than everyone watching could even process, except for Trint and Pneuma. Trint caught the blade with an even faster Spirit-formed claw that was Soul reinforced. But Trint had to reach forward for it because, at the same time, Pneuma had reduced the reach of the blade by catching the swordsman by the neck and lifting him in the air. Pneuma also backhanded the little brat as he had sidestepped the spit.

The blade-wielding man was not so quick to relent, and the blade was instantly covered in orange flames. He tried to pull it free, but it remained unmoving in Trint’s hand.

Trint allowed his Soul to flow into the blade and the flames changed from fire-orange to void-black. At that point, Trint had complete control over the material of the blade. So, he chose to make it brittle and snapped the blade one-handed. The void flames had reached the hand of the swordsman and his screams filled the otherwise silent gateway.

Pneuma squeezed and the screams were reduced to hacking and hissing attempts for air.

Kill him? Pneuma was annoyed and a little bloodthirsty now.

No, let’s go find the root of this poisoned tree.

The whole sequence happened so fast that it took the guards a moment to process it. They were well trained though and drew swords and stepped to engage when Pneuma cut the screams short. Before they could attack, the swordsman had the composure to know his life was in the strangers’ hands.

He waved wildly to stop the orange and black armored guards but his attempt to stop the fight that was about to kick off seemed to induce the opposite reaction.

Trint debated for a moment whether to fight with his partner or add his creations to the mix. There were only a handful of these guards. Trint cut the flames on the swordsman otherwise he might end up a heap of ash.

With the roadway open since everyone else had scattered, he chose to surround the whole fight with a dozen of his creations. Most were Pneuma forms, and the rest were less frightening nightmares.

Baba Jaga and Koshchei would have been overkill for a group nearly five times this one. They were aware and already watching. Both were currently hidden in Trint’s.

Trint and his companion had agreed to let them remain out and close. It became an option when they displayed their ability to minimize their presence and form to hide in his shadow. Their loyalty had grown with Trint’s extended trust and offered freedom. They kept implying that Trint needed to grant them a private audience and time together to become truly acquainted.

Now Trint’s shadow stretched a little. Not only because Trint had covered himself in his Spirit-formed Soul-forged armor. But because his two darkest nightmares were itching to murder the fools who thought to endanger their master.

Trint was aware of their thoughts as they had asked permission. He gave them and the others the same command.

Just the hands! His mental command also went to his comrade.

With surgical efficiency and accuracy, hands cut above the wrist were removed in almost an instant. They were just as simply caught by the various creature and their leaders. They allowed some of the swords that weren’t clenched tight, to fall to the ground.

Without any hands, every fighter lost any semblance of aggression and most stood staring and involuntarily screaming at the stumps held before them.

You want to let them die? The dark king questioned uncaring for their lives but willing to submit to the young warrior’s intentions.

No, I will try something new. Let me try some healing. You keep an eye out for any reinforcements.

Trint knew time was short if he wanted to keep the hysterical handless warriors from bleeding out.

Hold them, he commanded his creatures to allow him to focus on the task ahead. Put each hand next to the stump.

Trint then rushed from guard to guard and used spirit to invade the flesh and tried infusing Soul to heal. He had the impression this was possible. But his first attempt only caused more damage. He quickly jumped into his Soul.

With the impression of each guard mirrored into his Soul Space he began experimenting. He now had about 10 times the opportunities to figure this out. They were not present in his Soul. He just formed a construct or shadow with Soul substance to practice on. His attempts were not any better here than his first.

Knowing time was limited even here he jumped back to the physical world. Then he grabbed the man he had been practicing on. “Hold still and come with me,” The next moment Trint jumped into the man’s Soul. There he was standing without hands in his own Soul. To Trint the Soul was shaped like a small ancient Japanese-style house surrounded by some water.

Without asking permission or giving directions Trint appeared in front of the shocked man. He grabbed the wrist of the right hand and pressed the hand to the stump. With a flash of light, Trint infused his Soul into the two sides. It immediately fused and the man flexed the hand and relaxed slightly. He had stopped screaming when they entered but his shock had only increased. Now he stood expectantly. Trint continued the healing in the Soul. The healed man looked at Trint with wonder and reverence.

“Master Shepherd, I’m sorry. I am bound but I will speak to the house to make sure you are absolved.”

“How do you feel?”

“Like I never lost my hands. Will this heal my body too?”

“I think so, but let’s check.”

They appeared back in the real world. The hands Trint had been holding, moved faster than even he could perceive and snapped into place. The physical caught up with what had happened in Soul.

“Good, sit here and keep quiet.” The new doctor moved to the next guard and repeated the process. The time-saved healing in the Souls meant that in less than thirty seconds they were all healed. The last few had still lost a lot of blood. Trint like any good doctor, prescribed water, rest, and some food when they could eat. The last to be healed was the swordsman who led the guards.

After all, were healed, Trint turned to take in the group of guards sitting on the ground. There was a young man who looked to be sleeping on the ground. Something odd on his face. The cause of all this?

Yes, Baba Jaga is having a word with him, the dark warrior king confirmed.

Trint stepped over to him and jumped to his Soul.

Baba, what are you doing? the warrior demanded with silent communication. Their bond extended to all planes.

Just telling a bedtime story, she whispered without malice but still, the only thing Trint could make out was a spindly long finger extended as she caressed the cheek of the young man. He was in a bed with covers pulled up to his chin. There was darkness all around and Trint knew from their connection, he couldn’t be seen. The young man had his eyes shut anyway but tears fell through closed lids.

Will he be, ok? What did you really do? I’ve never seen someone sleep in their Soul.

Baba left the sleeping boy to come closer to Trint. For the first time, a little more shape was revealed from the darkness of Baba’s form. Nothing detailed but long hard around a formless face.

His Soul was barely awake. I did him a favor by expanding it, she softly whispered into Trint’s ear. I needed room to teach him.

What did you teach him? Trint fought to not shiver at her slow words.

Children’s stories. The tales I tell are not for good children. I told him what happens to children who wander too far. He will learn from this as I am a teacher, among other things. You will learn, as I will explain my lessons to you as well.

Is that a threat?

No, an offer, she snapped her sharp tipped spindly bone-like fingers and was gone. The bed fell out from under the boy. He awoke as his head hit the ground.

Trint walked over and shook the wide-eyed teen. “Are you feeling all right?

Trint was met with silence. Still holding his arm Trint pulled them both to the real world.