Soulbound

15

The shard pulsed in the darkness like a heartbeat, faint but undeniable, embedded in a writhing mass of shadows at the center of the plaza. Avery’s pulse answered it, pounding in her chest as if some hidden tether had locked onto the fragment.

She tightened her grip on the scythe. The air around it hummed, Veil energy vibrating against her skin. She had never felt so aware of the world pressing in—the static charge of corruption, the way the night air seemed to ripple with hunger, and the inexorable tug of the shard pulling at her very soul.

Kael stood beside her, unreadable as always, his blade lowered but ready. “Do you feel it?” he asked quietly.

Avery nodded, throat dry. “It’s… calling to me.”

His eyes flicked toward her, sharp and intent. “That is not a call. It’s bait. It wants you closer.”

Bait or not, Avery couldn’t look away. Every pulse of that shard carried something familiar, something that made her chest ache. She didn’t understand it, but she knew, with bone-deep certainty, that she couldn’t turn her back now.

Kael must have seen the stubborn set in her jaw because his tone hardened. “Do not rush. Observe first. That shard is the soul’s anchor. If you fail to strike properly, it will consume you.”

Avery swallowed, but the pull was unbearable. She stepped forward anyway. Shadows stirred like water around her feet, recoiling and then striking. Tendrils shot upward in jagged arcs.

She slashed low, cutting through them, each swing cleaner than the last. The scythe felt like an extension of her, humming with purpose. Every strike sent ripples through the corruption, making the shard pulse brighter.

“Steady,” Kael barked. “Don’t let it set your rhythm. Make it follow you.”

She forced her breathing steady, circling, slashing only when the tendrils lunged. For a moment, she thought she had the upper hand. Then the shadows swelled, a massive surge rising like a wave.

Avery leapt, scythe flashing, and cut deep into the writhing mass. Sparks of Veil energy hissed where her blade met corruption. For the briefest instant, her scythe brushed the shard.

The world collapsed.

Images crashed into her mind:

—A man screaming, blood pooling beneath him.

—Hands clutching at a wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding.

—A betrayal, voices shouting in the dark.

—And then cold, endless dark, the taste of bitterness and rage.

Avery staggered, gasping. She wasn’t just fighting shadows—she was inside the soul’s pain.

“Avery!” Kael’s voice was sharp, distant. “Break contact!”

But she couldn’t. The shard pulled harder, wrapping her in a flood of memory. Her vision blurred with tears that weren’t hers. This soul hadn’t been born evil—it had been broken, twisted, abandoned in its last moments. She could feel its fury, its need to cling to existence, no matter the cost.

A tendril lashed around her wrist, cold and crushing. Another coiled around her throat, cutting off her breath.

Avery choked, struggling to raise her scythe. Panic clawed at her chest as darkness squeezed tighter, dragging her toward the shard. Her lungs burned.

Then Kael was there, his blade a streak of silver light, severing the tendrils with brutal precision. He yanked her back, his hand gripping her shoulder like iron.

“Are you insane?” His voice was low, furious, his eyes blazing. “You nearly gave yourself to it!”

Avery coughed, struggling to speak. “I… saw it. Kael, I saw its memories.”

His expression flickered—shock, then controlled anger. “That is how it takes you. It shows you fragments, makes you believe it deserves your pity. Do not be fooled.”

“But it’s not just corruption!” she snapped hoarsely, chest still heaving. “It was human once. It’s in pain, Kael. That’s why it’s fighting so hard.”

Kael’s jaw tightened. “We are all in pain. That does not excuse what it has become. Mercy will not cleanse it.”

The shard pulsed violently, as if mocking them both. Shadows surged again, thicker and sharper, forcing Kael to step in front of her. His blade blurred, cutting through tendrils with ruthless efficiency. Avery steadied herself, ignoring the ache in her lungs, and swung her scythe to cover his flank.

Together, they carved a desperate retreat, step by step, away from the shard’s heart. Every swing felt heavier, every tendril faster. The soul was enraged now, its focus locked on Avery.

“Why me?” she gasped, blocking a strike that nearly skewered her side.

Kael’s eyes flicked to her, grim. “Because it knows you touched it. And because it chose you the moment you failed to claim it.”

The words hit harder than any blow. Guilt surged in her chest, but Avery forced herself to keep moving, her scythe flashing. They broke free of the densest shadows, slipping into the fractured light at the edge of the plaza.

The shard pulsed once more, dimmer now, but still alive. Watching. Waiting.

Kael lowered his blade, chest rising with controlled breaths. “We can’t stay. It’s too strong in its nest.”

Avery’s hands trembled as she let her scythe lower. Her head still spun from the flood of alien memories, but the images lingered sharp and raw. “It remembers who it was,” she whispered. “It’s not gone. Not completely.”

Kael turned, eyes narrowing. “What did you see?”

“Pain. Betrayal. Death,” she said, voice low. “It’s holding on because it doesn’t want to be forgotten.”

For a long moment, Kael said nothing. Then, softly but firmly: “That does not change our duty. Whatever it was, it is not anymore. You cannot hesitate again.”

Avery met his gaze. There was no cruelty there, only steel—unyielding, forged in centuries of carrying the same burden she now bore. He wasn’t dismissing her compassion. He was reminding her of the cost of giving in to it.

She clenched her fists. “Then we’ll destroy it. But I won’t forget what I saw.”

His expression flickered, something unreadable in his eyes, before he turned away. “We regroup. The Council will need to hear this.”

As they withdrew into the city’s twisted streets, Avery cast one last glance back at the plaza. The shard pulsed faintly in the shadows, like a dark star waiting to flare again.

And though she didn’t say it aloud, she felt the truth settle deep in her bones:

The corrupted soul hadn’t just recognized her.

It had chosen her.