Arc One: Awakening

Chapter 16: Field of a Thousand Souls

Lilith stirred to a faint rustling. Shoes scuffed the ground and a feather-light hand swept her brow.

"It is all right," Bartholomew soothed, checking the mage for any broken bones or lasting injuries. "Do not move yourself too soon. Stay still."

Wriggling, she inhaled deep, the bitter air slashing like shards of glass in her lungs. She spluttered out a barked cough and flopped over to get herself up. Bartholomew's steady hands supported her back, bolstering her as she lolled forwards and groaned in exhaustion.

"What part of stay still do you not understand?"

"Pretty much all of it. Never been one for following instruction," she muttered. "Where are we?"

"In the Azurite Grimoire."

"That angry book?" Lilith muttered a string of expletives and rubbed the sore ache from her forehead. As she reached for her fallen circlet blades, Bartholomew snatched her wrists. With a fierce glint, she spun round to give him a scowl, and he subtly tilted his head upwards. She followed his line of sight to a clump of shadows, the dark smoke surrounding them crackling and hissing as it separated their humanoid shapes. The two sullen pits in their faces smouldered as though they housed hot coals. "What are they?"

"Soul reapers," Bartholomew whispered. "Move slowly."

Lilith inched her blades along the grit, gripping the central handles tight. "And let me guess, they reap souls."

"Precisely."

"One day, I'll meet a creature whose scary name is ironic."

"I would offer to introduce you to some, but first, we must survive," Bartholomew spoke in a hushed murmur. "And the likelihood of that is rather slim." He kept a secure grasp on her arm and pulled her up, his gaze following the fluttering accumulation of smoke, shadows rippling and warping like a broken holo-video.

"If you were anybody else, I'd tell you to lighten up," Lilith said. "But considering you've lived for hundreds of years, I'll take your word for it."

"Thousands."

"What?"

"Thousands of years. Not hundreds."

"Seriously?"

"You seem surprised, commander," he remarked, flashing his leafy green eyes at her before returning them to the clicking creatures. "No sudden movements and nothing threatening. Okay?"

With cautious steps, he moved them backwards, the air heavy and still as they edged away from the conjuring circle that had drawn them in.

"What is that noise they're making?" Lilith asked.

"Echo location. They cannot see, so they rely on reflection of sound to sense their environment."

"That could be useful for us."

"Do not think about it." The professor cast a glance over his shoulder. Broken slabs of stone formed a path of destruction that seeped beyond the horizon, and the rolling fog swallowed the landscape in a dreary grey blanket. Above them, jagged pieces of collapsed ceiling leaned perilously close to slipping from the top of the pillars. The land has not been maintained in some time, he concluded. Whoever had possessed it was likely long gone, and the deadly book left to roam.

"Has anybody ever escaped one of these things?" Lilith questioned, a tinge of trepidation flooding her voice.

Bartholomew hummed. "Some have," he said. "Every so often, a grimoire would accidentally capture a soul mage who could escape, but others have managed it too." The reassurance did not seem to settle her as he had hoped, and her clasp on the midnight blades tightened.