Page 8 of Solivagant

There was no way I could bring Jem here as he was now. His soul was far too bright. Far too tempting. The false goddess Kynara protected the humans of this world. Those stupid enough to leave her barriers became prey. Always.

How could they not? They were one of the few living things that couldn’t consume the souls of others. It kept theirs pure. The power from one human soul was easily worth five of anything else. There was a whole market dedicated just to the trade of them. If they weren’t absorbed, they were kept as trophies. They also didn’t pose the same risk others could.

There was always risk in absorbing a powerful soul. If it was too much stronger than the level of the one consuming it, then they ran the risk of instead being absorbed themselves. A battle of spirits after the battle of bodies. If they lost that war, they were replaced, their body being taken over and controlled by the stronger one, their own soul a casualty to the battle even if their body lived on, now owned by another. There were beings who survived long past their lifespans this way, forcing one weaker to consume them so they could instead take over and live on.

Human souls weren’t capable of fighting back. It was the only real worth any human had, or so I’d once thought.

Beyond their souls, their worship provided power to certain species. Belief and devotion made some stronger. It was how Kynara had grown into such a thorn in the side of all others. It was why she was basically untouchable. It was also why my species hadn’t killed all the humans outright when we had discovered our own Bridge to the other world. A whole colony of humans outside Kynara’s dominion. We could have feasted, but the power we could farm from generations of believers outweighed the benefits of a one-time harvest.

Bridges between the worlds were extremely rare. Any fortunate enough to discover one kept it closely guarded and entirely secret. There were only five of us who knew about ours. All Benygals: myself, Aerith, Thalin, Zyrli, and Avaran.

Even that made it difficult enough to maintain balance. It had been a fight with Avaran that landed me injured in Jem’s forest. But I could trust him and the others not to tell any of the Bridge, only because I trusted their selfish desire to hoard as much power for themselves as possible. What I could never trust them with, though, was Jem.

Bringing him here would sentence him to the death of his body and consumption of his soul, his light destined to be absorbed by all those seeking the power it would provide.

I had, regretfully, been one of them once. That day Jem had found me in the forest, I’d planned to consume him. Planned to take his soul and use it to heal my wounds. Any of us would have. But I’d been weak, and he’d shown me something I’d never experienced before. Mercy. Kindness. With no ulterior motive.

I hadn’t known what to do with it then. Curiosity stopped me devouring him. Then the more I watched him, stalked him, the more I wished to know him beyond his soul and the power it would provide.

There were so many things I kept from him. Brutal truths of my nature and the world I belonged to. He was so soft, so gentle. I wanted him only to know the same from me.

It’s why I let him believe I learned his language from the lessons he gave me. The truth was that absorbing souls also absorbed memories. Knowledge. It had only taken five humans to speak with him fluently, and I’d been careful to harvest them a distance away from Jem’s village, so as not to raise suspicion or harm the “agreement” we’d made with them in exchange for their rituals and worship.

I didn’t care for their worship anymore. I’d give it up if I could have only one human for myself. If I could ensure Jem’s safety, I needed nothing else.

There was a sacred ritual. One that could bind two souls together and share between them lifespans and power. It was only done in cases of extreme trust, or for alliances and mutual benefit. Never if the power between individuals was too unbalanced.

Only disciples of Silvyr could bind souls. Thankfully, I had one of those at my side already. And Aerith was the one I trusted most in my life, though still not enough to let her anywhere near Jem. I’d need to eventually, though, so she could bind us.

I still had the issue of altering Jem’s soul to accomplish first. I had to taint the purity of it so I could merge it with mine without absorbing him. I needed to make him into something else. Something stronger. Something other.

I had an idea of where I could go for help with that. It was just about the last place I wanted to go, and unlike Aerith, she was probably the person I trusted least.

But I’d do it. I’d face her again, for Jem.

“If you keep pacing like that, you’ll wear a hole into the floor.” Aerith’s melodic voice caught me off guard.

I was used to her sneaking up on me. And I’d usually be able to sense it, though I’d been distracted since returning from Jem.

Brief relief quickly morphed into annoyance as I realized it wasn’t Aerith at all, but Thalin, using her voice.

“If you keep eating somniths, you’ll go mad.”

Somniths were pests. They mimicked voices and faces to lure in prey. Many of them had stumbled into Jem’s world from our side of the Bridge and were too stupid to find their way back. But they were cowards and easily controlled by basic threats and power displays. We’d warned them not to cross the village walls, and they obeyed. They also tasted terrible and provided next to no power benefits. The only reason Thalin forced himself to eat them was for temporary use of their abilities.

Our species were unique in that we could absorb the traits of those we consumed, as well as their appearances, for a limited time. It was why the more beings we consumed, the less like our true selves we looked. And acted. Benygals were savage beasts and looked it. But absorbing traits and knowledge elevated us into a somewhat functional society. I was proud of my current appearance, and it had taken many shadow elves and soul deer to develop away from our more bestial roots.

Slipping back to where we’d come from kept us cruel. It was why we hoarded more souls than we needed. Jem had told me the glowing flowers on my horns and the orb that floated between them were beautiful. If he knew each of them was filled with souls, I wondered if he would still feel the same.

“You don’t have to be so thrilled to see me, Khor.”

“If Aerith learns you’ve been imitating her again, she’ll tear that braid from your skull.”

Thalin gasped in fake surprise, taking his long turquoise braid between slender fingers to stroke it protectively. “You won’t tell her, will you? It can be our secret.”

“We have no secrets, Thalin.”

He chuckled. “Well now, that just isn’t true.” Thalin fluttered long eyelashes at me.