Chapter 3
Chapter three
Itucked the crystal into the pocket of my jacket as I left the house.
The walk was a long one, but I needed to be away from the last of the soulless, those who were barely holding onto their lives.
Aiden was with them, and although it was only a matter of time for him, too, I was sure that he could be left alone with them for a little while, as I took some time to gather my thoughts.
I had a plan. I had a rather well-developed, lengthy, and thought-out plan, actually.
The next step was to find out the truth of it all, the truth for real–for a shadow of uncertainty began to rise within me.
Is the soul I took from Shad truly mine?
Did my father really strip me of my soul, and did he really give it to his favorite son?
It did call to me. There was no doubt about that.
Just as I held it in my hands or in my coat pocket, I could hear it almost like a siren’s call to me, to take it as my own.
I had heard of those ancient, blessed sirens, people with tails of fish– merpeople—who sang the melodies of the sea, and they had the ability to control the fathoms of the deep, the ability to lure men to their deaths.
Is this melody a siren’s melody? Will I be lured to my death, too?
No, I wouldn't because that soul’s melody was mine—it had to be.
It had been three days—seventy-two hours—four thousand three hundred and twenty minutes—two hundred fifty-nine thousand, two hundred seconds, and yet, I was too much of a coward to do the one thing that I had desired for my entire existence.
I had yet to accept the melody as my own.
I had sacrificed everything for that moment.
I had all that I needed. I could leave Earth, arrive on Terra, and live a life that was my own—somewhere where my father and Tarick couldn't imprison me.
I felt cold around me as my memories brought back nightmares from my past. I paused from my walk to close my eyes and focus on the things in the memory that I always could control.
My breathing. I couldn't control the number of shouts, the number of whippings I had endured.
I couldn't control some of the ways my body would move, but I could control my mouth, I could control my breathing, and I could close my eyes so I didn't have to see the crimson streams on the walls that I would have to clean up later.
I breathed in and out. The smell of that forest was not the same scent as that of my dungeon cave with the coppery, iron blood that smelled so disgusting in that damp prison cell where I had spent most of my life.
“Restore his soul!” The shout of my father’s loud rumbling voice in my memory caused me to flinch.
Tarick hit me again and again with his leather strap.
His eyes always looked rabid as if he were sick, and all he could do was beat me until he died.
How I had wished for that. At first, I thought my father was begging Tarick to give me back my soul, but as time and more beatings came, I felt as if I was some sort of experiment to them.
Was Tarick capable of restoring souls? Was that Haleston’s gift?
As the memory washed over me and finally ended, I opened my eyes and reminded myself that I was not on Terra. I was nowhere near Tarick nor my father. I was safe.
I pulled the black crystal from my pocket.
It was warm in my hands, as all the midnight crystals were when they held melodies inside of them.
I reached a specific grove of trees and leaned against one of them, moving the stone with my fingertips, watching it, and wondering what I should do.
Should I really do it? I had spent thousands of hours going over those questions and the weak worries in my mind.
I had written out two hundred and sixty-nine reasons why it was just how I had been without my melody all of this time—that I deserved to be reunited with it.
It called to me, didn't it? My brother had it all of his life. It was my turn.
One face flashed before me. I didn't know his name, but I would never forget his face. That face was associated with memories of the worst things from my past.
It had only been once—one time when I had viciously murdered someone.
That was the crime, I was told, that I had been locked up for—but I knew that it wasn't true.
I had already been locked up multiple times before that incident.
Did they really think I was that much of a fool?
I shook that memory away. Things of the soul were flooding me; then, memories and feelings that I had never felt before bled into my mind like an open wound in need of pressure, only I had nothing to offer in order to stop the flow of blood.
I would bleed out soon. I was sure that I would die.
In the dungeon of my past, cleanings always followed the beatings.
Hava, the castle servant as I had known her, came down and cleaned my wounds, bandaging them as best she could.
I remembered her blue eyes and her steady voice that sang of hopeful things, days of light with Ancients walking among us.
Hava brought me back from despair often—as had my dreams of a green-blue eyed girl with blond hair that seemed to be made of light; her images brought me hope on the darkest nights within my prison, but I never dwelt on the dreams of that beautiful girl for long.
I was sure that I would die there in those dungeons and never see such a maiden draped in the light of the sun.
There was no sun where I had dwelt. Hava would always leave halfway through her task of tending my wounds.
She often needed to rinse out her bucket, filthy with my blood, and get a new cloth.
I had no idea why, but for those five minutes, she always left the door open.
I had always been too weak or too out of it to care or to even really notice, but after the final couple of beatings, she had kept me conscious and pointed to the door as if she wished for me to escape.
At first, I wasn't sure what she was doing.
Was it some trap my father and Tarick had put her up to?
A test to see if I would run, perhaps? And if I did, and they caught me, would that be it?
Would they finally kill me? I wondered for a few moments if life was worth living if every single day was pure misery?
Surely, that is not what the creator had intended for me.
Hava left, as usual, and I, not being as out of it as I had been in the past, sat up, wincing at the pain but unable to stop myself from taking the chance.
I hovered by the door for a few moments.
It seemed to me to be hours as I thought about my choices, but it had been a mere twenty seconds.
I stood there, thinking and counting. Most people would have hightailed it and ran at the first chance they got, but most people did not know the two men who had imprisoned me.
There was only ever one secret I had kept all the years of my life.
Even if I had been born soulless, I could still sense the melodies of others.
It had not been lost to me, how daily, the blackness of Tarick’s soul ate at him.
It was only a matter of time before he killed himself because of it.
I wondered–if I leave, will I be killed anyway for my soulless state by the other Terrans in the kingdoms?
Surely there were just as many people who hated soulless and would kill them without the castle as there were within it.
I paused, but then realized, I would rather take the chance than stay there for all my days.
I rushed through the door before my courage faltered. At the top of the stairs stood the guard who often brought my meals. He wasn't a kind man, his soul holding both blackness and light in an obvious unequal balance, like most of the guards Tarick kept.
“Hey, you, get back in there before I tell the king that you are trying to escape.”
That, I knew, was his one offer of fained mercy.
I knew he would tell Tarick and my father.
I realized it didn't matter. I was determined. Hava was nowhere to be seen, and I charged up the steps with more strength than I realized I had. I channeled all the pent-up pain and frustrations, all the horror from my life, and I looked at the guard. I wouldn’t kill him in my escape.
I would bind him and flee instead. He reminded me of the guard from my youth, the one who had forgotten to lock my cell, and when I fought with him, he broke my nose, and I had taken his life for it.
I would never forget the way his melody screamed, and how his body relaxed in my chokehold.
It had been an ill attempt at escape, however.
My father, only minutes later, sent me back into my cell, locking the door behind me.
I clutched my nose in my hands that day, wincing at the pain as Tarick was sent to beat me with his whip.
That was the only time I ever felt numb.
I had taken a human life. No matter what they did to me, no matter what I tried to tell myself, I had murdered someone, and I was sure there was no way to come back from such a thing.
I never fixed my nose. I had no mirror in my cell, but I could feel the bump, and I touched my nose often in remembrance of what I had done, of what happens when one becomes the enemy, becomes the thing they despise most. Maybe, I was just as bad as my father and Tarick; still, I vowed to find my soul—and regardless of my worthiness, I knew that I would find it, and I would discover if there was any chance for me, any chance to find that green-blue eyed girl bathed in sunlight, any chance not to be sent to the corrupt at my final end.
I opened my eyes, realizing that the day had dragged on, along with my thoughts. An orange sky peeked out from behind the blushing clouds, and I leaned my head against the tree. Shad's melody was still in my hand. No—my melody was still in my hand.
I no longer wanted the memory of him, of the one man who I had killed in cold blood.
It used to anchor me—show me what I had the power to do and remind me that the next time, I would choose differently because I didn't want to be like those men who once held me prisoner. I had chosen differently the second time—the night of my actual escape. I’d tied the guard up, and although his death would have probably been a blessing to many, I did not take that into my own hands, not again.
I leaned my nose against the tree trunk, feeling the bent bone, realizing that I would need to re-break my nose in order to get it to set straight.
I no longer wanted the reminder of that death, no longer wanted to be haunted by the darkness when I looked into the mirror.
So, I slammed my nose into the tree at just the right angle.
With a crack and some blood, it rebroke.
I didn't have a handkerchief or any towels or napkins at my disposal.
I stood straight, not caring about the blood as it dripped from my face and onto my clothes.
It would heal quickly after I washed.
I’d noticed during my time on Earth that the Terran people healed rather quickly.
I wasn't sure what it was about Terrans that made us superior in healing, but I knew it would only be a couple of days before my nose would heal.
The pain would be annoying until then. I walked back to the house as the blood continued to drip down my face and neck and onto my suit coat.
The pain, as did all physical pain, made me calm.
It was something I was familiar with—pain, so the throbbing only reminded me that I was still alive and still able to achieve my goal.
As I reached the house, I saw Aiden through the window, close to a soulless girl.
There were two other soulless people in the house, around the kitchen.
I moved around back, not to be seen. The back door of the house had a bathroom nearby, and I walked into it.
I looked at the disaster that was my face, slowly clearing it of crimson blood.
I moved my nose into the desired position, then placed bandaging tape across so that it would stay in place, so that it would heal properly.
I sat on the closed toilet seat after I finished washing my hands.
I just sat there, listening to the melody so strong in my palm as I held the crystal in my shaking hands.
I pulled the necklace over my head and waited for my melody to finally come back to me, for my soul to be restored to its rightful owner.