Page 98 of To Trap a Soul

“You have done well tonight, Odie,” Lindi complimented, noting the carnage they, her child, had produced throughout the night. “But it’s time for you to return to the forests.”

Just as they charged, likely seeing her as another enemy, black tentacles made of glittering sand shot out from the ground and wrapped around them. Odie fought with all their might to be freed, but little could be done against the magic of their father. They could snap and snarl all they liked, could fret and squirm with all their might, but Lindi wouldn’t release them.

Instead, she turned and began to walk away from the city, with them being dragged behind her. Odie got a hand free to claw at the ground in an attempt to stop her, tearing up grass and dirt, but all they did was rend the earth.

She took them away from the scent of humans, otherwise Odie would cause devastation while they built in the daytime. They would kill soldiers, and she couldn’t allow it.

As much as I cherish you, I must bind and move you from my gaze.

Odie would one day eat a human, but not under her watchful raven eyes.

A time unknown, but the seeds of conversation begin

With his energy slowly replenishing, Weldir stirred. Darkness met darkness as he opened his eyes, but there was an illusion of light in his periphery, allowing him to perceive his own sight.

With his palms facing upwards, he looked down at his hands and clenched and unclenched them.It seems she has ceased using too much of my mana.

He opened his mind to feel all along his selfs, checking the realm within his stomach. Tenebris was exactly how he left it, mostly finished in creation except for what he would change for the departed souls he held for safekeeping.

He moved his consciousness along. He felt his mind, and how he had tucked himself at the back of it to rest.

He checked within his heart, finding Lindiwe’s soul’s citrine flame bright and exactly how he left it.It still has impressions of darkness.He noted the black charcoal around its heart and streaming from its brown eyes like flaming tears. With its arms crossing over its torso like it was hugging itself, its legs were slightly bent in the weightlessness. It never looked at peace, butthe glare in its gaze had faded, now just appearing solemn while alert.

It reminded him of her, especially with its large curls flaming above its head. He found it just as beautiful as her.

Weldir moved on to the fringes of himself and then let out a weary sigh.

So many souls.

There had to be thousands of white flaming souls waiting to be consumed. He materialised his body to the area in which they floated and reached a hand out. The closest soul to him was in a horrible state.

Unlike the mess of scarring that could come from a human’s life being present on their very spirit, those consumed by Demons were different.

Rather than the grey spots lingering deep within their soul from sickness, or the charcoal spots that snuffed out life like mental decay, or even the evidence of pale scars, those eaten by Demons were in pieces. He brushed his fingers over the torso of what appeared to be a woman and cupped his hand under it.

Cracks of red, like burning lava, streaked across her body like it had been struck by lightning. It did not show how she died, but he knew from the memories of others it must have been frightful and painful.

Weldir didn’t have a name for the sickness produced from being eaten by a Demon. All he knew was that if he were to consume this soul before healing it, that lightning would spread to him and fester by eating away at his mana in hungry sparks.

So, Weldir enveloped the woman’s soul in his hands and concentrated. He glued the pieces back together with the use of the spiritual side of his mana, while drawing away the toxin into his own body. Once taken into his black right hand, making it appear to have lava cracks throughout it up to his wrist, he threwhis palm out to the right. He expelled the toxin out into his mist on Earth, ridding himself of it and letting it disperse into the air.

Even holding onto the toxin for a short period of time chipped away at his mana as much as piecing the broken souls back together did. Already the mist surrounding him thinned, and he grumbled in annoyance. He quickly assessed if the woman’s soul had any tethers intertwining with another spirit to see if he could give it a joyful place to rest in his realm.

There was a connection present, but that person had not yet been consumed. Their flame floated somewhere nearby, not yet in his stomach but ready to be eaten.

She will rest in my valley of souls until that person greets her memories with their own.

Not wanting to waste any more time, he opened his mouth, pressed the soul to the cavity he created, and shut his lips around it. He swallowed, and it descended his throat and entered Tenebris.

He floated towards the next listless, drifting soul, passing the hundreds around, above, and below him. His direction was always different as he picked a soul at random to heal it, expel the toxin into Earth, then consume it.

Each time he healed one, he lost a little more strength, the toxin’s festering stronger than the soul’s replenishment.

But, unlike the toxin, which was a fleeting wound, he would have a deeper well of mana with each new soul he added to his collection. It would go further, so long as he rested. For now, it only debilitated him.

Weldir one day may go through their memories, wanting to visit their life out of curiosity. He’d learned many languages, and although he could not leave the reach of his mist, he’d seen many places. He’d been on ships setting sail across the ocean, had dug his hands into dirt as he farmed, and he had even sat at a table putting ledgers in order for a business. He’d poured drinks fordreary patrons, as well as danced with a man in the rain as his flowy, sodden skirt swayed around his lithe, feminine calves.

Every new spirit pieced together the many kinds of life for a human and granted him more understanding with each one. He chose what he valued or what he didn’t care for, and dismissed a lot of superstition, moral ideologies, and faith, as they had no room in his already-filled consciousness.

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