Soulless: The Story of Shayan (Prequel to The Soul Quest Trilogy) (3 page)

“I will not be a party to this choice you
make Hala. You may demote and humiliate me but I will not bow down
and grovel when I have done nothing wrong. Is this what you
perceive as the path to the Light, reducing a man to shame if and
when he does not see eye to eye with you?” I spat at my
creator.

“That is enough, Shayan.” Hala raised his
voice. “I will not tolerate any defection from you.” He was looking
at me sternly, the same way a scorned father would glare at a
misbehaved child. “You will do what is asked of you or you will
suffer the consequences. Once you have received council and you are
thinking clearly about your path in this life your commandment will
be reinstated… but not before then.”

“…and what if I refuse your council?” I
challenged.

“Don’t force my hand, Shayan.” Hala
warned.

I will not be bullied by this so - called
Great Spirit. “I will never receive your council!” I swore.

“…then you are banished from Arcadia and
this life forever!” Hala seethed.

I had never seen him this angry in all of my
years of existence. Surely, he did not mean the callous words he
uttered.

“…you can’t, you wouldn’t!” I said in
astonishment.

“I can and I will.” he promised.

“I don’t believe you.” I called his
bluff.

“Andre!” Hala bellowed. Andre, the Oracle of
War, my companion of spirit, stormed into the room. “You must
remove Shayan from Arcadia at once! He is lost. He has turned his
back on the path of the Light. He is forever banished from the
Spirit World.” Hala decreed.

Andre grabbed me by my shoulders and
wrenched me from the room. I couldn’t believe what was happening to
me. First with Hala and now Andre, I was being judged unfairly.
Andre only needed to hear Hala’s conviction of me to submit to my
persecution. He never even questioned my innocence.

“How can you betray me so easily, Andre? I
thought you were my friend.” I confronted him.

“I cain’t see nothin’ in darkness, ol’
spirit, and ye’ll find nothin’ but loneliness on yer shadowy
journey.” Andre said coldly.

“This is my home just as much as it yours.”
I pleaded with the satyr who was resigned to casting me aside like
a piece of used up trash, no longer useful.

“Arcadia is home tuh de Light and de spirits
dat follow it.” Andre argued.

Well, I tried to make him see reason but he
refused. He gave me no choice but to raise my hands against him. I
drew back my fist and launched it into his face.

“Aye, ye traitorous fiend!” Andre shouted in
surprised anger and pain.

He tackled me to the ground. I was no match
for the Oracle of War. He strong handed me and led me away from
Arcadia to the outskirts of the Heavens. “Ye are not welcome tuh
return tuh dis world ne’er!” he commanded. “If ye try, it’ll be yer
death.” he promised.

With out another word or regret he turned
his back on me and flew back into the safety of my banished home. I
was on my own, alone.

Chapter Six

Shayan

Time: 1620

Place: Earth

Masked

”And out of darkness came the hands that
reach thro' nature, molding men.”

~ Alfred Lord Tennyson

I had never felt more betrayed and deserted
in my life. I felt myself being consumed with a rage that was as
much endangering as it was empowering. Part of my soul was fearful
of being isolated and ostracized while another layer of my spirit
was exulting in a new found freedom. I was alone and shunned but I
was now free to make my own choices. I would answer to no one from
here on out.

I raced like a silver bullet out of its
barrel intent on my target. I would show Hala and everyone else who
was willing to betray me that they had made a grave mistake. Hala
believed me to be a threat to human kind. Perhaps I should prove
him right! It was not my intent to harm anyone. My intentions had
been honorable. Well, no more good deeds for mankind. If Hala will
not make my soul human then I will have to take a human soul and
make it mine.

I felt the energy of the mortal before I saw
her. She was alone and distraught, just like me. Alone, we were
both weak but together we could be strong. United, we would never
stand alone again. I stood face to face with the human woman. She
was entirely unaware of my presence. Her aura glowed sadly in pale
hues of blue and green. It was as if her soul was calling to me.
She wanted to be free just as much as I did. Now we would both be
free.

Like a magnet I anchored my soul to hers and
drew her life spirit within me. She screamed in horror as her
pitiful existence flashed in her memory and drained from her
physical form. I could see it. As our souls merged I could see and
feel every connection between us. I saw the painful memory of a man
with a bloody bullet in his chest, a small frame of a modest home
burnt to the ground, the smile of a child, blurring trees as I
sailed passed them on the bare back of horse. Her memories filled
me as mine filled her. I grew stronger and more content as she grew
weaker and more fearful. Oddly, I found her fear alluring. It made
me feel more powerful. It reminded me of how I used to cower in
Hala’s presence. Now this woman cowered to me and I found that I
enjoyed this sense of domination.

I dropped the female mortal’s lifeless body
to the ground as an electrifying pain shuttered through me. My once
warm blooded body now felt of ice. The bright glowing aura
surrounding my frame dimmed and became tinged in blackness. Last,
my expansive and beautiful wings of white and gold that had
faithfully transported me from Arcadia to Earth time and time again
froze, blackened and crumbled into dust.

“Hey, you there, what have you done to her?”
a mortal man screamed at me as he ran toward the empty shell of the
woman I’d just killed.

Holy hell, he can see me. Well, as
impressive as this new revelation is I’m afraid I can not allow
this man to survive knowing that I’ve just devoured the soul of
this insignificant wench.

“Allow me to show you, sir.” I offered to
the mortal man as he knelt sobbing over the corpse at my feet.

Then I devoured his soul.

Chapter Seven

Shayan

Time: 1621

Place: Plymouth

Deranged

“Deep into that darkness peering, long I
stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no
mortal ever dared to dream before.”

~ Edgar Allan Poe

I felt invincible in my new and improved
form. In a matter of moments my body had increased in strength and
speed. I had felt a subtle difference after consuming the woman’s
soul but I had really noticed the change after devouring the mortal
man’s essence. I now understood that with each soul I acquired I
would grow stronger and more powerful, having inherited the
strength and energy of the human I had slain. Surely, now I was
superior to Hala. I could and would do my bidding as I saw fit.

I decided to transplant myself among John
Carver’s colony. For the time being I’ve introduced myself as
Sampson Goodman. Unfortunately, I have since learned that it is not
any easier to change John’s mind in person, even in my new awesome
form. John continues to befriend the natives. The Indian, Squanto
only reinforces his efforts among the Wampanoags. I’m going to have
to take matters into my own hands.

“John, surely you can see the negative
effect the harsh winter has taken on the colony. The natives are
using resources that could be used to protect the people of
Plymouth.” I argued.

Consistently, John defended the natives
demonstrating how their assistance has kept many of the colony
members alive despite the harsh winter.

“The Wampanoags have taught us how to adjust
to our new climate and surroundings. I fear with out their help we
would all be dead.” John had said.

John’s disobedience angered me. I began to
resent him and the colony for their loyalty to the Wampanoags. The
tribe’s spiritual energy is much stronger than that of the
colonists. I stand no chance of controlling the Indians with out
the help of John and his leadership. I’m left with no choice but to
show John what will become of his people if he does not heed my
warning.

I awoke to shrill screams of anguish and
mortification this morning. In the deep of the coldest of our
winter nights I consumed the souls of three men, Robert Carter,
William Mullins and William White; one woman, Mary Norris Allerton
and one child, eight year old Ellen More. The mortals were already
weak with sickness and fragility. I merely hurried along the
inevitable for the overall benefit of the remainder of the colony.
Because of this already acknowledged reality among the colonists it
was not difficult for them to assume their loved ones deaths were
directly related to the lasting effects of the cold winter. Still,
John remained stubborn. He continued to cooperate with the
Wamponoags and their translator, Squanto but all was not lost. I
had begun to spread reason amongst some of the other members of the
group. One man in particular, William Bradford was changing his
mind rather quickly.

As spring arrived and our numbers stabilized
the colony began to grow and thrive again. With this new found
knowledge I appealed to my new and trusted ally, William Bradford.
I suggested that we should reconsider our standing with the
Wampanoags.

“We should increase our demands on the
tribe.” I said to William. “We shall convince the Indians to adopt
the English language, follow the court jurisdictions of Plymouth
and renounce their native religious beliefs for Christianity.” I
encouraged.

John still remained obstinate in his
decision but he had fallen ill within the last months. His passing,
which I secretly orchestrated myself, did not surprise anyone and
William swiftly took over his role as mayor of Plymouth. Squanto,
who was becoming suspect among his own tribe for his personal
dealings with the Englishmen, also was perceived to have died a
sudden and mysterious death.

It was the colonists desire to improve the
Wampanoags mind and spirit. It was my desire to harm their native
culture and strong spirituality. I wish to weaken the spirit of
their souls so I may one day control them too.

Chapter Eight

Shayan

Time: 1623

Place: Plymouth

Shyam

“The precision of naming takes away from the
uniqueness of seeing.”

~Pierre Bonnard

I sat impatiently waiting in the shade of a
large oak tree. I had sent word to my love, Anastajza, the Oracle
of Death, through Salomon, the Elder Guardian Spirit of Peace.
Salomon was not pleased to have to pass my message on to Ana but I
had pestered him enough to convince him to go through with it.
Elder Salomon takes the form of wind, making it impossible for him
to escape me and my incessant nagging. Finally, he agreed to summon
her and even more remarkably she agreed to meet me here today.

“OK, so I’m here. What do you want from me
Shayan?” she asked begrudgingly when she stepped into the shade
offered under the grand oak.

I tightened my lips to prevent myself from
snapping at her disrespectful tone. It had been three years since I
last saw my beautiful Ana. I did not invite her here today to fight
with her. I wanted to make amends and share with her my dreams and
desires of a life with her.

“I still love you, Ana… very much.” I began.
She remained quiet. “I know it has been a long time but I have
remained true to you. I still want to be with you. I know I am not
permitted in Arcadia but there is nothing to stop you and I from
loving each other here on Earth, my new home.” I finally explained
the intentions of my invitation.

For a moment Ana looked at me with the same
crystal blue eyes that once loved me, only now I recognized a new
longing within them. “Why should I trust you? How can I know that
your heart isn’t filled with darkness?” she begged of me.

She missed me too. I realized now that it
had not been easy for her to let me go. I shouldn’t punish her for
being weaker than me. Just because I was brave enough to stand up
to that tyrant, Hala didn’t mean she was. Well, I would protect her
now… if she still wants me. I moved toward her slowly so as not to
startle or threaten her. She’s anxious enough as it is.

“Why don’t I start by telling you a little
bit about what has happened to me since I, uhm, left Arcadia?” I
suggested. She nodded for me to continue. “Alright, I came to
Plymouth three years ago in an attempt to mentor John Carver,
Gaea’s mortal charge.”

“John Carver is dead. Gaea has transformed
into her Elder form.” she noted.

“Yes, I know, his death was unfortunate. A
little over a year and three quarters ago he fell ill and passed.”
I said solemnly. I had tried my best with John. “In fact, a great
portion of the colony had fallen victim to the harsh winter of
1621. None the less, we have carried on in spite of the adversities
we have faced. Today our little colony is flourishing.” I said
proudly.

Ana was suddenly startled by my expression.
Her eyes narrowed and she blew up at me.

“You are proud of this, Shayan? What have
you done that is honorable toward these people? The Englishmen
arrived in Plymouth with a head count of nearly one – hundred and
thirty people. Today, three short years later, your so – called
thriving colony’s population dwindles at less than fifty - three
persons. Who have you been protecting, Shayan? You’ve lost more
than a third of your people to starvation, Scurvy and poor shelter
from the elements. What’s worse, you’ve exploited the natives and
forced them to adopt a lifestyle that is entirely foreign to their
own… and why, because you deemed this best for them? You’re a
hypocrite, Shayan! You have dealt these Wampanoags the same hand of
cards you accuse Hala of tendering to you.” Ana accused me.