Soullord.

By Christopher Woods.

Prologue.

I stood on a dark plain surrounded by my dead, and I knew that it was over. This was death? I heard a voice that seemed to come from all around me.

"It's time to leave," it whispered, "time to let go. Come with me."

I almost accepted it, but I couldn't do it. If I quit, if I die, everything falls squarely on the shoulders of the only other Soullord left. It falls on a sixteen year old girl to protect the world from the Demon hordes that will surely be coming, and I couldn't accept that.

So I stood my ground and refused to go.

"I can't go. I'm not finished yet," I answered the voice that came from everywhere.

"You will come, one way or another," the voice returned.

I saw darkness from across the plain surge forward toward me, and black tendrils began to spring from that roiling mass.

I settled into the beginning stance of the Dance of Blades with two red-fired Soulblades that sprang to life in my hands.

To my horror, all of the dead around me stood and came for me. These were my own dead. How could I strike down the very people who had already died for me? I saw Janicek and I saw Wilson. I saw men, women, and children from Morndel Academy. To my dismay, two forms strode to the front of the group, and I was looking into the eyes of my mother. Not Kyra, my real mother. I have her face seared into my memories from the many times I've seen her from Kharl and Kyra's memories. I would know her face anywhere.

How could I strike down the very person who gave her life protecting me? Then I think of a sixteen year old girl who would have to take my place, and I can't give up. I can't leave it all on her shoulders. I just can't do that to her or the rest of them either. They need the Soullord now, more than ever. Not Colin Rourke, but the Soullord. The man who can do the amazing things needed to fight this war.

In time, Lyrica could take my place, if I fall. But she is not ready for all of this. Not yet. And I have an Archmage to kill. I will not go until that is settled. No way in hell will I go down without a fight.

As my sword blurred, and time seemed to slow to a crawl, I saw something in my mother's eyes. Something that gave me the strength to do what I must. There was pride. She was proud of the decision I had made and before my sword could strike, she and my father both faded away, as did all of the dead from my past.

But the tentacles neared me, and I could see creatures from nightmares at the tips of each of them. They closed on me, and I Danced. I Danced like I had never Danced before. They fell to my blades, but more surged forward from the darkness. I felt the rage explode within me, so I embraced it.

With a roar, I met the horde of creatures, and began the toughest fight of my life. The fight to keep my life.

I jerked awake in a sweat, and Soulfire was burning all around me. I shut down the Soulfire that was covering me as the dream faded. It was the same dream I had from the day I awoke from the Source coma, and it scared the shit out of me. It scared me, because it felt more like a memory than a dream, and the last thing I want to think about is the Afterlife, and what will happen when I finally die.

If the dream is true, I might have pissed something very important off with my refusal to go. More than likely, I'm just going crazy after the things I've done.

A pounding at my door interrupted my thoughts.

"Come in, Ric," I could see his Soul with my Inner eye. He was furious and worried as well.

He opened the door and entered quickly, "They got the Kid, Boss."

"Oh hell."

Chapter 1.

"I can't believe the bastard actually blocked his own son from the Source," Rictor muttered, "his own freakin' son."

The private jet owned by the Soulguard was much quieter than the C-130 we'd been in before. The seats were much more comfortable, too. But it was hard not to fidget with my impatience.

"If he wasn't already dead, I'd kill that bastard every Tuesday for a month," I returned, rage burning inside of me like a furnace. "Then to leave him inside a shield, that's just evil. I hope he's alright, I really like that kid."

"He's been four days without food or water," Rictor said. "That's gonna be rough as hell, but he's a tough kid. He'll be ok, Boss."

"God, I hope so," I said with a shake of my head. "I knew something was wrong when he wasn't there at the Last Rites. I should have done something right then."

"There's no way you could have known about this, Boss. Don't beat yourself up over it. Not everything is your fault, even if you always blame yourself anyway."

"It is my fault, Ric," I said. "I knew, two years ago that they had to be faced, and I didn't do it. I knew it, Ric. Instead, my Guards died, my friends died, and Lyrica has to live with what she had to do. It's what I should have done. So don't tell me not to blame myself. But I swear this, it'll never happen again."

Rictor was actually taken aback at the vehemence in my voice, but he didn't try to argue with me.

"When it needs done, it will be done," I said, "damn the consequences."

I hated the fact that Lyrica had to kill the Council. She's a Soullord, but she's not like me. Thank God. She has a kind heart, and she shouldn't have had to do something that was so completely against her nature. She has always been a sweet girl with a smile always on her face. I can see the torment in her Soul as she faces the consequences of her intervention on the behalf of Gregor and Guilefort.

She's every bit as powerful as I am, probably a great deal stronger, but she isn't like me. I'm almost as bad as the foes we fight. If I didn't have the Kresh to fight, would I be some monstrous person? A psychotic killer? Would the rage rule me if I didn't get to use it on the Demons?

Lyrica, thank God, doesn't have that monster inside of her. She will fight, like any other Guard, but she will only fight when she needs to. I fight because it is the one place I feel completely at home with myself. What does that make me? I guess the future will tell.

"You tell 'em to have some food ready when we land? The Kid'll be starving when I unblock him."

"Yep."

The black SUV's tore into the driveway of the mansion in Texas where Kevin Graves had spent his childhood under the harsh rule of Roman Graves. There were several people waiting for us as we exited the vehicles.

An elderly grey haired man in a suit met us.

"This way, Sirs," he ushered us into the front doors. "The young Master is through here."

I could see the genuine concern and outrage flowing through the old man's aura. He cared a great deal for Kevin, this was obvious.

I rounded the corner ahead of us and my mouth dropped open. The room in front of us was contained inside a shield bubble that was tied directly to the Source. The expected sight of a nearly dead man wasn't what we found, though.

Kevin Graves sat calmly on the bed in the room. Off to the side of the bed, a tendril stood straight up from the floor.

"Never ceases to amaze me," I mumbled and sat down in the chair in the hallway where I assume the elderly gentleman had spent many hours. He'd actually untied the block, himself.

Seeing that the Kid wasn't in any danger, an idea sprang into my head and I reached into the sack I carried with me. I slowly unwrapped the double bacon cheeseburger and with a sigh, I took a huge bite out of it.

"Really?" he said as he licked his lips, "Really?"

I laughed aloud and tossed the sack toward him. As it neared the shield, I tried something new. If it didn't work it would look a bit awkward, though. I reached out with my mind and literally ripped a hole in it. The sack soared across the room to be caught quickly by eager hands.

He eyed the shimmering shield and the hole ripped in it. Then he shook his head slowly.

"Is there anything you can't do, Boss?" he asked as he unwrapped another cheeseburger.

"Underwater basket weaving," I answered.

He almost choked on his cheeseburger and laughed loudly.

"So," I said, "You unblocked yourself. I'm beginning to think that the question you asked would pertain to you, too."

"I can't weave baskets under water either," he answered between bites.

He moved toward the edge of the bed, pointing toward the tendril of power jutting from the floor, "It's right there, isn't it? When I untied it, it wasn't touching me anymore. I can't feel the flows very well when they aren't touching me."

"That's why you haven't dealt with the shield yet then," I said with a nod. "I was wondering why you didn't just take it down too."

I reached out with a tendril, and built the jumper like I had done years ago at the Academy. As I clamped down on the two feeders for the shield, I cut my connection to the tendril and the shield dropped.

He walked forward and grasped my outstretched hand, "Really is good to see ya, Boss."

I handed him the super-sized coke in my other hand, and he smiled as he drank deeply.

"The Source can keep you alive for a great deal of time, but it does nothing for hunger or thirst," he said, "Poor Gerald sat out here for the last day worried to death."

"He tries to blame himself because he wasn't here when that bastard did this. My father had given him a week off. There was no way he could have known what the Mages were up to."

"The strange part is," he said, "my father wasn't in charge of the group that came after me. It was that woman with the burns, Regina Worthington. She ordered everyone as if she was the friggin' Archmage or something. It was so unlike my father to take orders from someone so much weaker than himself."

I have replayed all of the memories in my head from everyone involved, and I was beginning to have a disturbing idea of what had occurred at the Academy. And what may have been occurring for many years before that too.

"Now I have to face the bastard," he said with determination, and fear. There was probably not another person that the Kid fears more than his father. His fear is rooted in the past from the torment dealt him by the person who should have been his one safe place in the world.

Once again, I wished for Roman Graves to be alive again just so I could kill him.

"That might be a problem, Kevin" I said. "I don't really know how to say this, but Roman Graves died with the entire Council when they attacked Gregor Kherkov and Simon Guilefort a few days ago."

"The Truthseer and Gregor?"

I nodded. He was silent for a moment, and I watched the emotions playing across his aura. Relief, anger, and ultimately ending with sadness.

"Who can I thank for this? You?"

He would find out soon enough, there was no point in hiding it, "Lyrica Jayne intervened before they could kill Gregor and Simon."

"Lyrica? The crazy girl from the Academy? She's only, what, sixteen?"

"Yes,"

"Unbelievable," he muttered.

I took a deep breath, "Get cleaned up, and pack your stuff Kid. We're heading back to Montana. There's been a great deal of changes, and you can see them firsthand."

I squeezed his right shoulder and turned away. I never know what to say to people who have lost family. It was even harder in this situation. The Kid didn't know whether to be happy or sad at the loss of his abusive father either.

I looked at the tendril jutting from the floor, "Any particular tree ya want to enhance, Kid?"

Chapter 2.

"What the hell do I know about running a war, Greg?" I asked.

I sat in Gregor Kherkov's office at the Academy. He had requested my company a little while before, and I had come to see him immediately.

He looked at me, and shook his head a little with a strange look on his face.

"Colin, you're what we would call a natural leader. People follow you almost automatically. That is a very dangerous attribute for anyone to have. It would be easy to abuse, but one of the reasons you have it is that you wouldn't abuse it."

"What do you mean? People follow me because I'm the one who's there. I'm not something special, I just do the job."

"Horse shit!" Rictor's voice came from behind me. All of the new Mages who were with me in Kansas had gone to their new training locations.

Two of them refused to go and I actually seem to have become their Mage instructor. Rictor and Andrea refused when they were instructed to leave. Rictor had just stated, "Someone's got to keep an eye on him."

"This is complete and utter horse shit. We follow because of who and what you are, Boss. You're the Soullord. And you're the man who put himself into a Source Coma before letting another of his men die."

"He's right, Colin," Greg said, "By all rights, when you reached Kansas, command should have gone straight to the most powerful Mage present. But even the most powerful are ready to follow you. I don't think we would have survived under anyone else's command, mine included."

"You have a gift, Boss," Andrea Prada said, "and you see things none of us can. We need that skill in charge considering what's coming. We all know that this ain't over. There is a great big hammer about to slam down on this planet, and we need you to use everything you have to prepare for it."

I just shook my head in wonder. I still don't quite understand how the people around me can show me so much loyalty. A hundred and five deaths in Kansas alone. Because I'm not learning how to use what I can do fast enough. But I know I can't get bogged down with the guilt. No matter how hard it is, I just do the best I can. Time to get down to business.

I pointed at the map stretched across Gregor's desk, "I think we need shields here and here. They can be support for the main shield here. I would like to put the installation here, underground. With the numbers they'll bring, I want as much protection for the Guards as I can get."

"I would suggest multiple facilities, if we get the time to build," Prada said.