III

The boy then resealed the vases and put them away, he had come to know more with each passing day as the snow melted to greener days of spring. By the time of the rains, the boy grew tired of this place. Though it was safe, he was realizing the world was pressing on without him. He wanted to be a part of it and on the day of his sword
practicing that his sheep, growing in numbers as the heard grew larger. His audience watched. A figure of a red robed man, his face concealed by a black grill under the crimson red cape concealed his eyes carrying a large oak staff caught the attention of the boy as well as the sheep.

The boy quickly realized that the figure he was seeing didnt appear to be of the spirit world, but of one of this world. There was something else also; something that caught his attention; as the figure walked up to the boy, an uneasy feeling came upon him.

“Are you the one that Naverron had told me about?” The boy said this through his telepathic power and stopped the figure in his tracks quickly.

“Yes, I am Kronus, high priest of the Temple of Jah-Hadeim, the temple of” His older friendly voice that had a flare of authority now cut off by the boys thoughts.

“Gods hand, yes, that is the name of the temple, yes?” the boy said telepathically.
“Why yes that is right, Naverron did say you have been especially gifted, my young friend.”
“Yes that was it!” that was something the boy was feeling, that this is the one that Naverron was hiding from him, but he also realized that Kronus was beginning to pry into his own thoughts.
“A friend doesnt pry into the thoughts of another, I dont consider an unwelcome visit, as shall I say, friendly?” the boy
challenged sending a powerful wave of strength back to the crimson robed figure.
“No, I guess not, I was seeing if Naverron was indeed right about the gift.” In that instant, the young boy knew that Kronus was a terrible liar. The boy realized there was something, something that Kronus was hiding and indeed was approaching him under false pretenses.
This voice was not of the sinister voice that came to the boy after his mother had expired, there was something though,
something about the old man that the boy did not like just the same.
“That is not true, you wanted to know what or who I really am, and I would tell you that I am Ramadan, all you have to do is ask.” The boys warned, and again, made the one in the crimson robe stop and ponder a bit struggling for the next line of words.
“Though you hide your face from me, I can still see your face clearly enough old man from the desert places.” Just then, Kronus could sense that the boy was already inside of his, the priests own head; his thoughts open to the boy.
“You have underestimated me; perhaps it was because of my youthful appearance, true, that I am just a boy.” The young boy projected these thoughts through his telepathy gift.
“Know your place boy!” Kronus returned a strong wave of strength in his telepathic warning, but he also knew the boy could see through the black grill and was still in his thoughts and mind, and the boy did not show any fear.
The boy could feel the anger welling up in the old man, so he withdrew knowing that his own mind had become stronger. The boy thought it wise that the old man should not know the extent of his powers, after all Naverron liked this man quite a lot.
“I am sorry to anger you” The boy spoke aloud.
“Accept my apologies.” The boy bowed down a little and then back into the black grill of Kronuss mask.
“You have been here for a year, and already you wish to leave?” Kronus asked.
“Yes, tending sheep, well, I believe they tended to me more often than I them.” The boy returned a smile. He could clearly see the mans face hiding behind the mask glimmer a ghost of a smile.
“You have been educated beyond your years, by whom?” the boy noticed that Kronus didnt try to probe into his own mind and instead waited for an answer.
“I have taught myself to read and to write on my own, there is no one else here.” The boy added.
“I see,” the boy could tell without powers needed that Kronus was having a hard time believing that and was wondering about the boy considerably.
“Nevertheless, you have something, something that is very powerful and
dangerous, and something that you have little understanding about that I have come for.” Kronus was not being deceitful or willing to continue any such façade any longer.
“You mean the sword?” the boy quipped.
“Yes, the sword, the very sword I have seen a moment or two ago.” Kronus insisted as he continued.
“The sword you have strapped to your back, the hilt in plain view, it doesnt belong to you.” Kronus warned.
“It doesnt belong to you, does it?” the boy added catching Kronus off guard as the boy could see it in Kronuss own mind.
“What do you mean; surly you do not understand what you possess?”
“Pitah Valgass very own sword, the translucent sword of souls!” this caused Kronus to back up slightly as the boy could see his grey eyes gleam at the hilt, and in doing so, the boy could feel the greed and jealousy well in the priest.
The boy drew out the sword and his mind began filling with pictures, pictures of the sun in the mountains. The very same on the very same day he gained his freedom, and from behind the coincidence of the warming sun. The boy could sense that Kronus was behind it. The boy sensed that the priest was inside of his thoughts and struggling through these images to give a false image, or scheme to show it was the priest behind these events. The boy also saw the huge wolf Naverron waiting by the river for days for the boy to show up, track him down, and befriend him so that he could take the boy to Adajahara. The boy saw the slight spirit of chance and deception fall before him. Kronus were trying to take advantage of the one who really did save the young boy in the mountains.
“So you have arranged me to be here, you were the one that brought the warmth to me as I was dying in the mountains under the whip of the Tarvas. And it was you that sent forth Naverron to take me to this place.” The boy paused as he could sense that Kronus was not onto what the boy had just discovered in his thoughts. The boy, rather playing along in the rouse that Kronus was webbing in the boys mind.
The boy saw more in the mind of the priest standing before him, “You cannot take this sword away from me, and you will never have it!” The boy looked at the reddening face of Kronus.
The boy could see in Kronuss mind that for years, many years, that the priest from the high desert has formulated many attempts to get the sword. After he, the priest had discovered its true powers from ancient scrolls, scrolls much older than anything that the boy had uncovered or knowledge about.
The boy obviously knew Kronuss plan of sending the boy down through the cave, retrieves the sword through a series of subtle suggestions playing into the boys curiosity. This angered the boy as he realized that Kronus was as crafty as he is deceitful, but more so in the fact that he was very unaware that Kronus was controlling these events from afar.
“You, from afar waited for my death, but more importantly the ownership and possession of this very sword.” The boy retorted, as he could see in Kronuss mind the door falling upon the boy. In that instance, the boy realized that the priest was attempting to kill him then, it was the only way that he, the priest could get the sword.
The priest stood there in silence as the boy pierced his brain uncovering the dark and evil thoughts of betrayal as the mind of the priest filling with lust and desire for the sword, and the power of such a weapon. The power of this sword that the boy could not uncover in Kronuss thoughts through his young gift was safe from him.
“I know its true so do not deny it, I was a simple pawn in your plan to catch Pitah Valgas off guard, he would not suspect an orphan Ramadan to stumble upon the sword, and oh yes, he tried to get the sword back as you know, but he, like you, has failed, you a murderous priest!” The boy accused flashing the blade quickly.
“Boy, give me the sword, and I promise you will live out the rest of your life naturally in peace.” Kronus extended his hand out toward the boy.
“Really, and I can see that my life would only be a few moments long, for I can read your mind as well, viper!” Without warning and blinding speed of the sword, the young boy removed the stretched out arm of Kronus as blood spurted out from the wound.
“You fool, boy!” Kronus reared back in surprise and pain with his other hand; he used his staff against the Ramadan boy.
“Good kill him, hes an old fool that turned away from his divine faith of, what is it they call it, oh yeah, righteousness I think is the word.” The sinister voice came back to the boy. The very same that lead him down the mountains that were nearly catching the boy off guard as he cut through the oak staff in two, and this act alone terrorized the crimson robed priest.
“Look, see that the sword not only cuts through sinew and bone easy enough, but through so called bullshit religious items like that oak staff from a sacred tree, the very same that these idiots have killed.” The mocking voice came back like before.
“End his life, already his blood flows on the ground, its either you or he, lets make it him, shall we?” It said to encourage the youth to end the priests life.
“Pitah Valgas wants you dead Kronus, can you hear him?” the boy asked as he stood there poised for his final strike upon the old man whose robe now cut up and his staff in pieces on the ground before him. The boy knew it was not the voice of Pitah Valgas himself, but of the one that truly saved him.
“Kill the two-bit has-been, and I will increase your knowledge of the black arts, and you will become my son.” The sinister voice sounded somewhat frantic and troubled.
“Kill the priest, I command you, boy!” the sinister voice commanded.
“Do it yourself” he turned and snarled as he walked away as his heart hardened by the uncovering of the priests deceptions.
Then in that instance, the boy realized the hidden power, and the name of the sword he wielded above Kronus now kept at bay by the deadly point. It was in the priests own mind that became weak enough from the physical wound of his missing forearm that lay before him.
The boy could see that the sword contained and gathered souls it has collected over time, and within it, it contained an army of the undead, the sword of souls.
The boy decided for himself to allow Kronus, who fell back on the ground holding his bloody stub on where his forearm used to be. “I will let you live, I know it wasnt you that saved me high in the mountains, and this plan, like the others I have seen in your mind has failed. You will never have the sword and do not make me regret sparing your life old man.”
The boy walked away after sheathing his sword and picked up his pack, looked once more at the wounded priest, “The next time we meet, I will kill you, and hear me, priest, and to that fucking mutt with you!” the boy then turned away as Kronus passed out from the blood loss and pain.
As the boy slipped off into the darkening skies and in doing so, his face darkened and then turned as pale as silver under the full moon, his eyes darkened into the two black orbs as his hair, changed to coal black as he walked away from the priest. The boys anger intensified past his own
comprehension, as he was very unaware of his physical change.
“Already the sword is transcending its dark powers in you, boy, and you shall be condemned to eternal damnation.” Kronus yelled aloud as his body began losing blood, too much blood from a wound that the priest was struggling to contain.
The boy, as he gave without another thought of the priest, continued to slip off into the thick woods. The boy was long gone by the time Kronus regained consciousness saved only by conjuring up an old spell to stop the bleeding before he passed out, a spell that no doubt saved his ancient life. Kronus could sense that Pitah Valgas was indeed gone; Kronus wanted the sword even more so now that the great and powerful spirit of Pitah Valgas was gone somehow.
With this renewed desire of obtaining the sword, Kronus managed to arise to his feet. Kronus realizing that the sword somehow had begun transforming such an innocent boy into something that he had yet to understand other than the fact slipping into a darker power. This power that Kronus was too weak himself to contend with, and at his age of men, had little knowledge about. The boy would have to find Naverron, the black wolf and conjure other things, other plans into his own malevolent course of action.
The boy walked east from Adajahara through the winding mountains down into the emerald woods of Gwarvarik. The boy showed no sign of fear as he deliberately headed further east until he came across an old stone road, a path like that he followed a couple of seasons ago when he met Naverron. The path headed south deeper into the woods, trees that he realized were called oaks from the tablets and scrolls from the temples of Adajahara. These very same trees were once seeds that came from the “Blue Planet” so many centuries ago and grew well in this region; many generations of these trees have grown since then. The boy decided to follow the path until it led to a small abandoned village, a village that showed signs of a battle fought a battle with the Tarvas. It must have been the battle that he heard of some time ago, there were human remains, arrows piercing, but now lying in the skeletal remains where the dead had fallen. He continued following the path that leads behind the huge timber walls into the village. There he could see the skeletons of the Larnges, horses, and more humans that fell by bow and sword. It was obvious to the boy that the Gwarvarik village eventually fell to the Tarvas raiders, but it obviously took a heavy toll on the Tarvas.
The boy found supplies, a good pack, and a warm dark cloak to wrap him in and to keep him dry of the impending storm coming from the Steppes in the north. He then thought he heard something from behind him, out from the doorway of the small stonedilapidated structure that was once a villa. He drew out the sword slowly and cautiously turned to face the source of the noise, the rustling sound off in the distance. As he turned around, he couldnt see anything just outside the doorway, his hearing focused to detect the slightest of sounds, but he heard nothing more. He then drew closer to the door, and then removed the hood of his newfound cloak and peered ever so carefully from the darkened doorway. Still he could not see anything, but he knew, knew somehow that not only was there something out there, but that something was watching him.
The forest mist and low-lying fog were now beginning to roll into the village. Across the villa and beyond the foundations of destroyed structures, beyond the skeletons of the dead, it was in the dark oak trees he could sense that something was just out of eyesight watching him. The boy withdrew slowly from the shadows of the doorway and slipped back into the darkness. As the fog rolled in on where the boy could barely see the dead, knowing that this something, this presence was beginning to take further advantage of the fog and move closer to him. The boy realized that there was no other way out of this old villa.
“I know you are watching me!” The boy shouted in telepathy, but there was no response, nothing, he repeated as before, and like before, still nothing, as the fog grew thicker.
The boy then slipped out of the villa with his sword in hand, his pack over his left shoulder and with stealth-like precision he manages to leave the area of the villa. Through the skeletons and down along the cobblestone path that headed through the village south. The boy thought it might have been Kronus, or perhaps Naverron coming for him, but he didnt sense the familiarity of either one. The creature, it was some sort of a creature the boy was sensing, it wasnt human but had a remarkable intelligence the young boy was realizing. The boy was also realizing that the creature knew that the boy slipped off in the fog. The boy wasnt frightened, but he knew if he would give into fear, that fear it would consume him and therefore would be but already dead. He had the sword now and he has now become good enough to defend himself from others as he reassured himself.
He continued down the path, but he was realizing that the creature was now already onto him and following close behind in the blanket of fog. The boy then heard the sounds of hooves from the south, many of them coming to the path, and he could feel the presence behind him closing in. The boy ran headlong toward the sound of the approaching hooves as the creature was giving the chase. The boy then reeled off east of the path and turned to see what it was stalking him and in the concealment of the silver mist, a shadow arose from the fog, its blood red eyes gazed upon the boy. The boy could see the shape taking form and could see it certainly was a beast that stood nearly five feet high. On two bowed legs, black fur and an oddly shaped head, its massive arm reached down well passed the creatures knees. In one arm, its right arm it had a heavy bone, a lower leg bone of a Larnges. Along the end was a rock tied by what looked like leather straps an axe head fastened to the bone on which the beast raised up into his other hand.
The boy knew this hideous creature meant to kill him, but the boy could clearly see the creature was flesh and blood, and therefore susceptible to his swords razor sharp edge. The boy made it known to the creature that he was also armed, and not in fear.
“Boy” The creature uttered, and his eyes intensified its hatred and drool ran down its dog-like chin from the large canine teeth. “I will split you in two bloody halves!” The voice was dark and sinister and was more like a growl than words.
“So be it, I am not afraid,” The boy uttered in defiance.
The creature then turned slightly toward the thundering hooves, and then back to the boy, its red glowing eyes filled with hatred squinted as the creature realized that there was a bigger danger coming upon him. He then turned around fully and headed off into the fog leaving the boy there poised for battle. The boy could feel the presence leave completely, sheathed his weapon, and picked up his pack as the sound of many hooves thundered by him just outside the blanket of fog concealing the boy. Within moments, there were sounds of screams, all human. Then there were some blood curdling screams and sounds from something else. The boy froze and then turned around to hear the clash of steel and men fighting whatever the creature was, and the boy realized the creature was not alone, but there were many like him that fell upon the riders, the boy suspected that the armed riders were some Tarvas raiding party that was in the area. As he stood there for a moment, he could hear the Tarvas cursing their strange foes and battling them. The boy could hear the heavy crude weapons smashing human bone and sinew as well followed by blood curdling screams echoing through the forest that became still eventually by the rain.
“Better them than I” the boy flashed a dreaded cold smile and headed off down the path into the every thickening fog.
By night the rains came and the boy found shelter under an old oak, there he built a small fire to warm him and take away some of the dampness. He wasnt worried about the creatures any longer and witnessed two heavily armed Gwarvarik patrols heading along the path in what the boy thought was, no doubt they had come across the Tarvas raiders. The boy was anything but Tarvas.
The next day, the boy found another path that headed directly east, he followed this throughout the remainder of the day. His direction was leading through the thickest of the forest and over a series of small bridges. He followed it down into the thick mosscovered rocks and brush to where the trail met with the faint path that led south along the ravine of black rock. He followed up the scant path that was cumbersome and
dangerous toward the top. Once there, he witnessed large game, birds, and other signs of life. He continued heading along the path headlong into the emerald embrace of the forest. He stayed there until daybreak the following morning and found a large valley. The valley lay cleared from the trees that surrounded the landscape. There he could see a spiraling hilltop and a city on the crest of the hill of stone. The city was certainly the biggest that he had ever seen, the entire city rested beyond this thick high wall of stone. There were towers that jetted up high above nearly into the clouds. The boy stood there with his mouth agape by the view. Behind the towers, the uppermost building was some sort of architecture made of solid stone and a golden dome that caught the light of day and shined brightly in what little sun bled through the high overcast day.
The boy was tired, and in the safety of the trees, he would rest and wait until darkness before crossing the valley to the city that nearly went into the heavens. The boy eventually fell to sleep after eating some bread that he found from the village in the woods. His sleep troubled by the dark creature in the foggy mist, its eyes, blood red and filled full of hatred burned even in his dreams. When he awoke, the sun was just setting off in the distance behind him. He then began feeling the presence like before, the same presence from the village. He knew it wasnt the nightmare; he was fully awake and understood once again through his uncanny ability that he was the attention of unseen eyes.
He drew out his sword; the translucent black blade gave off a unique ring from its sheath. He gripped the hilt with both hands firmly and closed his eyes to the world. This as he found out shortly after receiving the blade that he could see silhouettes of living things, he noticed this with his sheep, he could see all of them with his eyes shut. He then turned slowly around with the blade aiming straight up into the sky firmly against his forehead; he could feel the increased strength flow from the dark sword into his bloodstream, burning up into his arms from his hands and into his swelling chest. With his eyes closed, he could see these silhouettes, but they were not yellowish white smoky images against the dark canvas of inside of his eyelids, but a dark burning orange, and there were many of them, five, then six, and finally, eight just in the distance.
“You cannot take me.” He said through telepathy at first. He could sense that these creatures did not have the capability or able to successfully block his thought from them. He could see one, a large image that stood a half a head higher than the rest of the eight.
“Come and know your own death!” The boy fumed showing no fear, and his words seeming not his own but of another, a strange voice that sounded much older than he who stood there poised on the edge of the forest.
“Boy, I will spill your guts while your heart still beats!” growled the tallest now running forward raising clearly an axe of stone, bone and leather. The boy opened his dark orbs of his eyes. The whites of his natural eyes now consumed in a sea of darkness giving way to a bottomless abyss within.
The Beast came down crushingly extending his axe that came down upon the hard earth below sending sparks up into the air just missing the intended target. The boy then swung his sword in blinding speed slashing the exposed rib cage of the beast that then sent up a violent howl into the twilight sky.
“Boy, you will surely die as I raise Bone Crusher, I will split you into!” the beast shrieked. The beast seriously wounded now countered with another slash from his crude and deadly axe. Like before, failed to hit the young boy by some small miracle.
The boy much faster again cut deep into the beast. This time opening up his stomach and spilling out his intestines that sent out a vile stench. A blood curdling howl as he stumbled and realizing it was he who was dying by his own proclamation he had made just a few moments earlier. The boy raised the sword a third time, severing the head of the beast from his disemboweled body sending blood ejecting from the exposed arteries of the pumping heart as the body fell down.
By now, three other beasts advanced on the young boy, and one by one in blinding fury, he killed each of them separating limbs from their powerful bodies, they were nomatch for his cunning skill that certainly surpassed his age.
“Kill that boy and bring me the sword, he must die!” The boy recognized the voice filled full of frenzied bitterness, “Do it now, or I will torment your souls in hell forever!” It was none other than Kronus himself just off in the distance, now there was other beasts returning and in the background of the thick forest, sounds of distant howling filled the woods.
The boy then turned and ran headlong toward the open valley. As he turned, he could see three or four more of these
creatures giving the chase to him, and from behind them, he could see the tall crimson figure of Kronus emerging from the forest. The boy realized his drastic mistake of not finishing the old treacherous priest off earlier and in that instant, he would never make that mistake again as long as he would ever live as it seared into his memory. Now he had found a new enemy, an enemy he was beginning to hate as much as the Tarvas.
“Youll never make it to the city boy!” Kronus said through his telepathy power.
The boy then realizing that he could not out run the beasts turned and killed the first two just behind him. Before the others could approach him, he stood over the two dead beasts where they have just fallen. He then ran the sword over their corpse. A gruesome green plasma as faint as whispering smoke went into the blade, causing a unique high pitch sound that drowned out the sounds of the advancing beasts. These beasts, growling and cursing at him that was quickly approaching with their crude axes through the field of wheat.
“I command the Sword of Souls to release thee unto my bidding” the voice from deep within his very own bosom flowed forthwith sending the souls of the two beasts to attack the living creatures. The young boy nearly beyond his own control commanded, though not of his own words. The spirits of the beasts, though translucent, were as horrifying to the living that was now upon the boy. The spirits of the two fallen bodies, picked up their weapons next to their physical bodies and began hacking and killing their living kind before the boy and the sword. The boy then could see the souls of the beast were then going for the remaining that turned and ran headlong in the horrid fear that was unfolding that were moments ago advancing on the field.
“Bring Kronus to me!” The boy commanded.
Before the souls of the two beasts could grab hold of the priest, the old man conjured up a spell that caused the old man to vanish only to reappear a few yards where he was just standing. The spirits of the beasts confused only for a moment then reacquired their bearings on the target, the old man in the crimson cloak in the distance.
As the young boy can clearly see, again the priest managed to escape by a series of vanishing and appearing elsewhere and the boy could see that the priests powers of distance were limited to twenty or thirty yards at the most. Nevertheless, the boy knew the old man could not keep it up; eventually the beasts souls would have him. This gave the boy enough time to collect the other souls just as he did earlier. However, instead of
unleashing the souls under his command, he kept them in the power of the sword, a power he was yet to realize fully.
As the boy watched, he could see the old man was tiring as other beasts entered the edge of the forest and began to engage the two beasts souls only to find their weapons. Those very crude axes made of bone and stone render uselessly as the blades just simply cut through thin air, but for the souls, they violently tore through flesh and bone, invincible against the living.
Finally, the remaining handful of beasts ran bewildered into the forest as the two souls turned their attention back to the old man who had vanished in the distraction. The boy seeing this drew his sword back to its scabbard and in doing so released the two souls from afar, as they returned to nothing more than whispering green smoke that evaporated into the twilight sky. The boy knew in that moment that by sheathing his sword had released the souls from his bidding and the control of the sword. As long as the sword was unsheathed, the souls would continue, perhaps indefinitely.
“So old man, you managed to survive me again!” The boy was angered, but he realized now he had in his possession a small but a formidable army that no sword, arrow, nor the axe could silence, and with this, a sinister smile broke across his face as he turned his attention back toward the huge city upon the hill.

From the Author Douglas S. Taylor
Thank you for coming to www.caledonseries.com and downloading this eSample of the Chronicles of Caledon’s first book of the series, Sword of Souls. This eSample is taking directly from the published novel of the first three chapters, (ISBN: 0-595-40947-4). It has been my privilege to share my works with the International community and making my dreams and aspirations come into a tangible fruition and a wonderment of a published reality.
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