Soulbound

13

The city was quieter now, but the calm was false.

Avery moved down the cracked streets, scythe at her side, the faint pulse of the sigil on her palm echoing the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. Shadows lingered in corners, subtle and twitching, like smoke that refused to dissipate. Broken glass glittered under the flickering streetlights, and the faint hum of electricity sounded strained, as though the city itself were holding its breath.

Kael walked beside her, silent and alert, eyes scanning the streets with the precision of a predator. He occasionally gestured, pointing to minor disturbances—an alley wall warped unnaturally, a lamppost casting multiple shadows, a puddle rippling though the air was still. Each anomaly was a sign of the corrupted soul’s touch, a reminder that the battle was far from over.

Avery’s knees ached, and her arms burned from the repeated swings of her scythe. Sweat clung to her hair, her clothes damp with rain and exertion. She pressed her palms to her thighs, trying to steady her breathing. For the first time, she let herself take in the destruction.

The humans in the streets were slowly returning to some semblance of normalcy—or as normal as they could manage after witnessing the chaos. Some were dazed, staring at empty spaces as if expecting shadows to reemerge. Others whispered in hushed tones, pointing at areas where the black mist had clung, their faces pale. One man, in a corner of a small convenience store, was muttering to himself, tracing patterns on the floor that Avery could recognize as the echo of the corrupted soul’s influence.

“This is what it leaves behind,” Kael said quietly, his voice low enough that she had to lean slightly “Not just the direct attacks. Not just the lives it ends. This is its mark: chaos, fear, instability. It spreads without moving, without touch. Do you understand?”

Avery swallowed hard, nodding. She did understand, painfully so. The city felt heavier now, as if the corrupted soul had seeped into its bones. Her stomach churned with guilt. If I hadn’t hesitated before… She shuddered, forcing the thought away.

Kael’s eyes flicked to her, pale and unreadable. “Don’t dwell on the past. The only thing that matters now is understanding it. Learning from it.”

She followed him in silence, observing the subtle shifts. Small things: a streetlight’s glow warping in a way that suggested a focus of the corruption, a flicker in a puddle that hinted at movement beneath the surface. Her heart raced. Every observation was a piece of the puzzle, and Kael’s silent guidance helped her focus.

After a few blocks, Kael stopped near a crumbling fountain in a deserted square. He gestured for her to kneel. Avery complied, careful, muscles trembling.

“Watch,” he said, and waved a hand over the surface of the fountain’s water. The reflection rippled unnaturally, and she could see faint shapes moving beneath: dark tendrils, shifting, curling, almost like roots. “Patterns,” Kael explained. “The corrupted soul isn’t random. It learns, it probes, it manipulates. Every manifestation leaves traces, and those traces tell us where it’s been, what it’s targeting, and… sometimes, hints at its origin.”

Avery leaned closer, studying the black currents. “Origin?” she asked softly.

Kael’s jaw tightened. “Yes. Souls don’t usually behave like this. Not with intelligence, not with this… persistence. Something about it is unusual. There’s a memory, or a relic of life, embedded in its corruption. Something driving it beyond simple instinct. We need to find it.”

Her pulse quickened. “So it’s not just… a rogue soul?”

Kael shook his head. “No. It’s worse. And it’s dangerous because it’s adapting. Every encounter strengthens it, teaches it how to counter us.” His gaze swept over the city streets, pale eyes catching every flicker of movement. “We have to track it. Understand its patterns. That’s the only way to strike decisively.”

Avery’s fingers tightened around her scythe. The weapon hummed faintly in response to her tension. She felt the weight of responsibility pressing down on her chest, heavier than any physical load she had ever carried. I’m the only one who can stop this.

Kael’s voice broke through her thoughts. “You’re thinking too much with your fear. Channel it. Every observation, every strike, every hesitation is data. Analyze, react, execute. That is how you survive. That is how you save lives.”

She nodded again, more resolutely this time. “I… I think I can do that.”

Kael’s expression softened imperceptibly, almost imperceptible, like a shadow moving across stone. “You will,” he said, tone firm. “But it won’t be easy. It will test you again. And next time, it will be prepared for you.”

They spent the next hour moving silently through the city, observing points of minor corruption. In a small alley, a dog barked furiously at something invisible, teeth bared, hackles raised. In the distance, a streetlight warped around a lamppost, shadows curling unnaturally. They noted each location, Kael teaching Avery how to read the subtle cues.

“Patterns,” he said again, as though the word alone held power. “Follow them, and you can predict its moves. Anticipate it. And maybe… just maybe… gain the upper hand.”

Avery’s mind absorbed the lessons, her previous hesitation fading with each new observation. The city, though twisted and scarred by the corrupted soul, became a landscape of information, each shadow and anomaly a clue to its behavior.

Finally, they paused atop a small hill overlooking the central plaza. From this vantage point, the scope of the corruption was terrifying. Streets that had once been bustling were now quiet, warped, edged with black tendrils. The corrupted soul had spread, leaving its mark across a wide swath of the city, touching lives, leaving chaos in its wake.

Avery swallowed hard. “It’s bigger than I imagined,” she whispered.

Kael’s eyes narrowed. “And it will keep growing if we hesitate. The next time we confront it, we must be ready. Every strike, every maneuver… calculated. This isn’t just about power. It’s about control, precision, and patience.”

She nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle into her chest. The first confrontation had tested her skill; this aftermath, her understanding. Now, preparation was everything.

Kael’s hand brushed against her shoulder briefly—a rare gesture, grounding, almost human. “Rest. Study the city. Learn from this. Tomorrow, we hunt again.”

Avery looked down at the city, shadows stretching across the streets like fingers. The corrupted soul’s influence was vast, but so was her resolve.

For the first time, she felt not just fear, but purpose. And she would be ready when the next confrontation came.

The night held its breath, and the city waited.