I was humbled by his words. Although a few of the soulless who I had created had delivered similar confessions, not all of them did.
“You are welcome. May you rest well in the hands of the Creator.” I watched for a few minutes as his eyes grew wide, the whites completely black as his chest rose and fell slowly. It was five minutes or three hundred seconds, until his lungs gave out, and he ceased to exist on that plane. I leaned over him further and closed his eyes, wondering how many more soulless people would die that day and how many more graves I would have to dig.
“Another?” I looked up as another soulless, this one with dark brown hair, walked into the room, sitting in the side chair, near the glass windows framing my favorite view of the forest.
“It seems so,” I said, sitting beside the dead soulless. When I decided to save the corrupted souls of those Terrans on earth, I didn't understand the toll it would take onme. I figured that I was soulless, myself, and as such, I could handle such a difficult task. I had been right; it had not taken much of a toll on me before I reclaimedmysoul from Shadrict. Since recovering my soul, it became more challenging than I ever could have imagined. I wanted to escape it even though I knew that I was doing important work for the Ancients and for the Creator himself.
I reflected on Hava, after that soulless’ death. I often thought of her. She’d come and sing songs to me when I was in the dungeons. At first, I was in too much pain to focus on the words, but over time, I realized that I had unintentionally memorized them. They became embedded within me. She barelyspokeany words to me. The guard beside my dungeon would probably have told Tarick, or my father, if she had. I knew her name was Hava because the guard called her that. I could barely make out her face because she always wore a dark brown cloak and hood, but I knew that I would remember her melody and her blue eyes for the rest of my existence. She was the only one on all of Terra who had ever shown me any kindness.
The song floated to my memory, then, as I sat and looked at the dead soulless beside me. The lyrics came.
Tell me the tale of the faraway lands
The place where the Ancients first roamed.
A people of strength and heart, they were,
and they came, and they fought the bold.
Tell me the tale of the princesses there who wished for the right to sing.
Tell me again of the peasant queen who lived in want of so many things.
Tell me of those souls so strong as they battled to defend their throne.
Sing me a song of the faraway lands, the faraway lands of old.
The Ancients had come,
and then they have gone—
the price for a melody sung.
Tell me a tale of the prince who knew that a heart could be pure, alone.
Restore the souls to those who were lost to more than to flesh and bone.
Tell me of the tale of them all, once again–of the mighty, mighty men,
clutching swords and shields in their hands as they vie to defend the throne.
Tell me the tale of the ancient lands, the ancient lands of old–
The story of the knights who fought until the battlefield turned red.
Tell me of the ones who remained standing still and bold
for the righteous cause, even in the midst of their dead.
The Ancients had come,
and then they were gone—
the price for a melody sung.
Tell me the tale of the ancient lands, the ancient lands of old.
Of the first Terrans blessed with the ancient gifts to bring
