by EM Malachi
Three fires burned in the clearing. Their bright flames held the wraith in place, offering no shadow in which the spirit could escape. Two men in dark robes tended the fires. When a third figured appeared from the woods, they drew their knives. ”We are all lost in the forest.”
“May the Guide light a fire to lead us out,” the third Dark Monk replied. “We have begun the rituals. Kindling from the Tree of Strife was enough to light the embers, but the Britannians destroyed too much. We need something more.”
“The artisan was able to complete the binding vessel, and the great soul has told us much. We will be ready.”
“Is she still alive? We don’t want people connecting Yukio’s disappearance to us.”
“She is being held by the cat’s paw. His hatred for the gargoyles will provide a helpful distraction while we finish our work.” The Monk doused one of the fires, and the wraith escaped into the dark forest. “Do not worry. He will find it. Then the Heart of Castambre will burn a path across this world!”
*****
Holmes swore as another power crystal sparked and cracked. The clockwork skeleton needed more mana than normal golem-craft, and he had yet to find a workaround. Holmes needed to wait for these components to cool down, so he put down his pliers.
The shadows moved, beckoning Holmes over to another table. The wraith from his dreams now appeared before him in the waking world, bound by chains of shadow and night. Its whispers were constant, directing the construction of the alchemist’s servant. “Flesh can be controlled.”
Picking up a needle and thread of hellhound hair, Holmes began to sew blood spawn into the dead flesh. It twitched with new life, and the glassy eyes blinked. If he could do this much with scrap, how much could the alchemist accomplish with a soulstone crafted from the motherlode?
The mad man looked over at his prisoner. Fortune had smiled when the mercenaries offered the captive artisan to Holmes for almost nothing. Yukio was brilliant and would help carve his masterpiece.
It was a pity she didn’t appreciate his abilities or share his goals. Gargish artifice was nothing compared to what Holmes could do. His alchemy could imbue the very flesh of the living and the dead! When the time came, Yukio would join the others who had doubted him.
As Holmes finished a row of sutures, he considered taking a short nap, but the wraith at his side became agitated. The shade knocked several books off a desk, revealing a torn woodcut of a bleeding rock. The whispers grew louder, “You must finish the servant. Then we can find my heart…”