Soulless: The Story of Shayan (Prequel to The Soul Quest Trilogy) Page 2

  “Shayan! Listen to yourself! This is madness!” Ana scolded me.

  I could not take the look of disapproval on her beautiful face or the disappointment and betrayal in her icy blue eyes. I made one last plea to my friends.

  “What should I do? I have heeded Hala’s words only to be continually ignored and disregarded by the humans. I have truly attempted to honor him, Arcadia and my human charges but I am entirely helpless to help anyone and effectively carry out my commandment as the Oracle of Humanity if no one will listen to me.” I cried.

  I had been reduced to tears but I felt no sympathy from my companions of spirit. I only felt their intense disapproval and shame in my opinion.

  “I do not understand you anymore, Shayan. I can not condone your selfish words and controlling ways. You must amend your darkened soul or I can not be a part of your life anymore.” Ana warned.

  Her shoulders tightened. Tears bled from her sparkling blue eyes and streaked her porcelain face. My words crushed her every bit as much as hers shattered me.

  “If that is the way you feel, then go!” I yelled.

  “Shayan…” Gaea made one last attempt to reach out to me.

  “Furget it, Gaea. He’ll not hear us.” Andre whispered in Gaea’s ear.

  His eyes were both saddened and disgusted as they pierced through me.

  “Just go! I don’t need any of you!” I growled.

  I watched the three spirits turn and walk away from me. I never felt more rejected and abandoned in my entire existence. The pain seared a wound in my soul that will never heal.

  Chapter Four

  Shayan

  Time: 1620

  Place: Plymouth

  Wampanoag

  “In this world a man must either be an anvil or a hammer.”

  ~ Henry W. Longfellow

  Upon considering Gaea’s words about her human charge, John Carver, I decided to see for myself if this man was as good as his Guardian Spirit believed him to be. It would certainly appear as though the good people of the new Plymouth Colony were in agreement with Gaea. They chose him to be the mayor of their humble home. The question is, did they choose John because he is a good man or because of his standing in society? After all, it was John who chartered their vessel, The Mayflower, and bore the financial expenses. This fact alone could explain their choice in selecting John as mayor. John may have even used his financial status as a means to be chosen. What if he bribed them?

  In addition to being wealthy he is well educated and believed to be the most affluent member of the group. One may conclude that the members of the colony would invest a lot of confidence in his judgment but do they respect him I wonder. It has also become apparent to me that his human peers regard him as being open and fair. They do not see him as being as overbearing as some of the more vocal members of the group. Again, does this fact convey respect for John, or does it imply the opposite? Perhaps the people of Plymouth prefer a leader who is easily manipulated.

  Currently John is attempting to bring peace to his colony. He has been speaking to the Massasoit, or chief, of the Wampanoag.

  “Welcome Englishmen.” Samoset spoke with his strong tribal accent.

  Samoset is a native interpreter for the Massosoit. The Englishmen appeared to be surprised at the native’s ability to speak their language.

  “You can speak English. I am impressed. How have come to learn our language?” John wondered.

  “Fishermen come through… teach words.” Samoset nodded. “…and Squanto.”

  “You can speak our language as well?” John now faced the Indian named Squanto.

  “Yes, I traveled the seas with your merchants to England. I learned in your home land.” Squanto explained.

  “Squanto has been a tremendous help to the colonists, John.” smiled a Plymouth man named Miles.

  The amicable conversation continued this way. John was trying to make peace with the Indians. I felt he was being naive. What if the natives turned on the colonists and their families? It is John’s responsibility to protect his colony. He isn’t making good choices so how can he be a good man? John’s ignorance is a threat to the people who have entrusted him with the safety of their lives and future. He is carelessly befriending a group of people he knows nothing about. He should be calling the shots and making the rules. Certainly, he should not harm the Indians or deny them their fair share of the bounty this fine land offers but why should he allow them to be in charge? They will not look out for the welfare of his people. He should stake his claim on this territory so he may fairly serve as mayor to everyone, keeping both his colony and the natives safe.

  John’s intentions may not be bad, but the end result will not be good. If only I could interact with the humans in a more tangible way. If only I could be one of them. I could make John see the error of his ways. I could keep the people of Plymouth safe. There must be a way!

  Chapter Five

  Shayan

  Time: 1620

  Place: Arcadia

  Alone

  “Virtue is not left to stand alone. He who practices it will have neighbors.”

  ~ Confucius

  “…but my Lord, why do you refuse me when you know that I have done everything within my power to attempt to reach the mortals? Can’t you see that all is lost where they are concerned? Someone must intervene. I am willing to do that. I will sacrifice my immortality to become human so that I may stand the smallest chance of reaching and protecting human kind.” I pleaded.

  Why was he being so stubborn? I explained everything I had observed in the mortal John Carver’s life. I showed him how very reckless the mortal’s choices could be. Didn’t Hala care for the safety of the colony?

  “I don’t believe you are truly concerned for the safety of the colony, Shayan.” Hala admitted. “I’m not sure what is happening to you, but you leave me no choice but to attempt to save you from yourself. You will never return to Earth, Shayan. Until further notice you are relieved of your commandment as the Oracle of Humanity.” Hala spoke firmly as he raised his hands and severed the strands of the Light from my soul that once commanded me to my Arcadian honor.

  I was crushed. How could he do this to me? He was punishing me for carrying out my duty.

  “No! You can’t do this to me. How can you doubt my concern for the humans? It has been my sworn duty and singular purpose in this life to watch over them and I have done so with out hesitation for ages.” I reminded him.

  “I am sorry, Shayan. I believe that you think you know what is best for human kind but somewhere along the way your perceptions have been warped. You are confused, my son. You must undo these disconcerting thoughts. You must free yourself of these troubling contradictions to what you are and what your purpose is in this world. Until then I must remove you from your post and keep you out of harms way.” Hala persisted.

  “Harms way? What do you mean? What will become of me now? What am I to do?” I demanded.

  “I will not allow harm to come to any human as a result of your confused state. I shall council you myself, Shayan. I will help you to see the error of your ways. I will guide you back to the path of the Light.” Hala promised.

  He looked at me with pity and grave concern. He felt I was a danger to mortals. How could he possibly imagine me involved in such a blasphemous scheme? I felt my frustration morph to shock… to anger …to betrayal …to rage.

  “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 abo
ut 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 stu
bborn. 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