Interconnected: Spliced Souls

When I was about half a mile from Canary, a squad of winged-wildkin descended from the sky, bearing an emblem I hadn't seen before. It was of a large tower-like structure.  

That is Lando’s Nail. Albert's voice reverberated in my mind. These soldiers directly answer to Harold Flynn and King Lando.   

“Halt!” said the tallest one. The woman approached– her helmet preventing me from seeing her face. “Return from whence you came, girl. Canary is off limits.”  

“That's a shame because I have info you might want. See these cuts?” I showed off my bleeding injuries.   

“Explain,” demanded the woman.   

“Until recently, I was held prisoner at the duke’s secret underground slave market. Is that enough context for you?”  

“Come with me.” The woman grabbed my arm and flapped her black wings, dragging me into the sky without giving me a chance to speak. She held me like a piece of meat as the ground became smaller. The other members trailed close behind with their spears ready to skewer me. 

I tried to speak, but I was told to shut my mouth.   

Is this how they treat a victim? I know you weren't one, but it's distressing, Itarr said.  

If the situation has necessitated the use of this unit, then they will not take any chances. Everyone is considered an enemy until their identity can be verified. 

I tried to mentally reply, but it didn’t work. 

Servi? Can you hear me?  

She can, but she needs to speak or send a message using her phone. Communication via internal thoughts isn't possible, and I do not know why.   

The name of this odd ‘phone’ intrigues me the more I hear about it.   

According to her, there is far more to it than what I have altered her Skill Tablet to do. She says it enables you to communicate over long distances using hunks of metal known as satellites. They orbit the planet and reflect radio waves. Those are then redirected to the phone. There is no magic involved. Just what she calls ‘science.’  

… I'm sorry, but I don't quite follow. I’ve never heard of these ‘satellites.’ 

Neither have I, but she says... 

I left the two to their own conversation and wondered if Itarr could pull off the actual phone portion of a phone. That would be nice. And if she could add a picture function? Maybe a video recorder?   

But that was a pipe dream. Just the message function alone was more than enough. 

Eventually, the base camp I spotted near the sewer entrance outside the city came into view. The woman holding me landed hard and threw me to the ground in front of about thirty people. Before I could stand, someone approached from behind and covered my head with a bag.   

“Is this really necessary? I wanna voluntarily help you, but–”  

“Silence!” A female soldier lifted the bag to tie a gag around my mouth before closing it. “Send word to the noble district's central headquarters. Tell them to expect a key witness in ten minutes. Hurry! On the double!”  

“Yes, ma'am!” said a pair of voices, followed by the furious noise of flapping wings.   

Yeah, I could absorb the gag and bag, but what was the point? Cause more misunderstandings?  

I waited silently like a good girl until it was time to speak.   

---

Minutes ago, I heard someone use a teleportation spell. I immediately sensed a difference in my surroundings. I expected to be bombarded by a series of questions, but there was nothing except complete silence.   

This area was probably meant for interrogation. I didn't have to remain alone much longer because I heard a door open and shut.   

“Don't even try to test my patience, girl, because I have none to spare,” said a deep, rugged voice, full of raspiness. A hand violently snatched the bag off, allowing me to see a fat man in a suit of armor that barely fit his bulging belly.   

It bore the emblem of Lando’s Nail.   

He snatched the gag a second later and threw it against the wall before sitting across from me.   

Yep. It was an interrogation room. It was just missing a camera. That was probably a one-way mirror hanging on the wall over there.  

“Then I'll tell you what happened,” I said, telling him I was kidnapped in the slums and forced to participate in an underground slave auction. I was about to be sold when a group of heroes freed me and the other slaves.   

“Bullshit! Tell me the truth!” The man stood, formed a fist, and punched me in the face, breaking my jaw and ejecting a few teeth.   

“And you've got the truth. If you want more, then go get Nimyra. She's staying at the Crimson–”  

“This ain't the time to make demands!” Another punch and more teeth went flying against the wall.   

“Then why not go fetch Srassa Flynn? She's the daughter of Harold Flynn. He leads Lando’s Nail, yeah? How would he react knowing you're beating the shit out of one of her friends. Jony? Their butler? I know him personally. Tell them that you have Servi in custody! You know, the same Servi that went missing?!”  

That earned me another punch, but it was straight on, directly breaking my nose.   

“That's a one-way mirror, yeah? I don't know what else you want me to say except the truth, and I've spoken nothing but the truth!!  

The man broke the table and was about to kick me when he suddenly stopped.   

“That got you scared, didn't it? Oh? You're sweating like a pig in mud, aren't you? Bet you you've done fucked up. I'm a victim here. I was about to be sold like a pile of goddamn meat to some perverted fucker, and you're the one who's supposed to help me! But no! You're treating me like I'm the one who killed those goddamn disgusting nobles!! Yeah, I saw them die! And I'm glad they bit the fucking dust!!”  

“Go– go fetch the Queen of Night!” shouted the fat man to the mirror. He left in a huff and slammed the door.   

I'm truly sorry, Servi.  

It's not your fault. I pulled my phone out and shot a message to Albert. He and Itarr had their own chat logs, but there was a group chat with us together. I typed in the latter.  

It's proof of a city’s descent into failure to treat its citizens in such a manner.  

Perhaps, but I can't die, remember? As soon as we're gone, I'll have the wounds regenerate.  

I seem to keep forgetting that. But that does not excuse your abuse. It's unforgivable.  

We talked a little bit about Nimyra. He knew her from a few passing glances, but Albert never spent time alone with her.   

In the short time since she had her phone, Itarr managed to implement voice communication. It obviously didn't involve any satellites, but it was equally complicated. Our rings were uniquely connected in that we shared everything. If I killed a monster, Itarr and I would each receive the soul. Ring bearers shared central storage, but we also had personal stashes the others couldn't access.   

But there were two issues.   

With two rings, it took 2 souls to gain 1 SP. It increased with each ring.   

In addition, the power a soul gave us was also divided by the number of rings in existence. If my already absorbed souls hadn't lost their strength, my strength would've been cut into half a moment after Itarr acquired her ring. If and when Albert got his ring, that was another drastic drop in overall power in exchange for him gaining [True Immortality].   

A worthwhile trade-off? Perhaps.   

Itarr said necromantic souls were different. Absorbing 1 would grant me 1 NP, no matter how many rings existed.   

Since the rings shared a connection, Itarr used that invisible pathway to transmit our voices, and she forced them to come out of our phones. She didn't need to alter the design to include little speaker holes near the top and bottom, but she did it anyway because it took maybe a few seconds. Albert's phone only worked when he was inside our soul world. Well, until he got a ring. Once that happened, he could be on the other side of the world and call me without a single issue.   

The topic soon turned to [Geas] because I was still curious. Albert said the spell latched onto your soul and engraved it with the specific restrictions demanded by the caster. If you broke them, the punishments weaved into it by the caster would take over your body, which happened to Albert.   

It wouldn't affect us. [True Immortality] prevents my soul from coming to harm. Itarr, do you think we could've absorbed it? 

No, I don't think that's possible. Absorbing something like a table or spell is one thing because we perceive its physical properties, but the soul is abstract. It's invisible, just like that barrier. We can only see it when someone dies. And by then, [Geas] would be broken.  

What about in the future? 

I cannot rule it out. 

“Hey! If Harold Flynn is here, you might wanna go get him too!” I shouted, waving at the window. “I know you're there!”  

There was no response, and I sat silently for about thirty minutes.  

Eventually, the doorknob turned, and a single man entered the room.   

He was tall and handsome, wearing a business suit with a thin sword at his waist. His hair was styled to the side.   

“Please allow me to apologize for everything, Servi,” said the man.  

That's Harold Flynn, explained Albert.  

“Srassa's father?” I didn't see the resemblance. She was blond, and he had dark brown hair. The shape of his nose and eyes didn't match hers.   

“The one and only.” He approached the chair and sat down, but it looked ridiculous because a broken table sat between us. “I’m aware of your friendship with my daughter from our butler’s letters and reports. You and Momo are all she speaks about when I'm with her. You have my thanks for being so friendly and kind to her... I cannot thank you enough. Now, I must request that you tell me everything that happened to you. Please, do not leave any details.”  

I nodded and did what he asked. The only things I changed were the obvious. Llamare and Liealia were humans from some country I hadn't heard of– not Earth Elves from Elviria, and they teleported in– not dug a tunnel, and that was it.   

Parrel’s real identity? Myrokos the Necromancer? The Golden Reliquary, Adam, and Eve? How monotonia spread throughout the city?  

I sang like the bird this city was named after. In other words, I was the biggest snitch Lando had probably ever seen.   

But I kept the whole mind control aspect a secret.   

“It may sound hard to believe, but Viridian Keywater bragged about his accomplishments. When you're thought of as a piece of meat, people don't consider you to be a human. You're just a pile of flesh to be sold, soiled, fucked, and tossed away like garbage. But I'm a good listener. Something is brewing here, Lord Flynn. I didn't like what I heard. And it may be malicious… I'm glad those freedom fighters attacked. I'm glad they killed those perverted bastards. I…was happy to see them die. It made me smile for the first time in a week.”  

“...” Harold looked at the mirror for a moment. “It must've been a traumatic experience. I'm truly sorry we were unable to locate you in time.”  

“What do you mean?”  

“My daughter visited the central headquarters with Momo and filed a report. And as I understand it, the Queen of Night was in the final stages of negotiations with three of Lando’s most powerful mercenaries to turn the slums upside down. Duke Biggins prevented it from happening. I presume because it wouldn't have taken them long to discover this underground market. It truly sickens me that this was occurring below us, and we had no idea of it.”  

“Just to let you know, most of what you see was caused by your soldier. Some man bearing the emblem of Lando’s Nail saw fit to bust me up for no good reason. I'm a victim, you know. After the hell I endured... This is the last thing I needed.”  

“Yes, I heard about that. And I promise you I will make up for it. That soldier will be severely punished.”  

“Good.”   

“Now, we need to decide where to go from here,” Harold crossed his legs and relaxed his hands in his lap.   

“I don't follow.”  

“What you've told me is, frankly, extraordinary beyond extraordinary. Yet you don't seem like the type of woman to lie about any of it. But I'm sure you realize the pure panic this information can cause should it spread to the public.” 

“You're right about that. A foreign prince being a duke in a neighboring country is one thing, but bringing back the dead? It's almost like you're breaking a rule of the world. What's dead must remain dead.” I knew how ironic those words were the moment I said them. Itarr was confused about why I said what I said, but Albert realized I was playing up Harold. I didn't want to become enemies with this guy, and I was glad he didn't outright refute my claims and try to gaslight me into thinking I was suffering from psychosis or something.   

“Indeed. Servi, let me be frank. The most logical course of action is to kill you.”  

“I figured that was coming. Two people can keep a secret if one of them is dead.”  

“That's a morbid way of looking at it, but I do not wish to travel down that path. I believe we can reach an agreement.”  

“Does this happen to involve [Geas]?”  

“You've heard about it?” Harold was genuinely surprised. I nodded and said I overheard that being offered to some of the nobles as a way of ensuring their new property would remain loyal. “I have the authorization to use it via a seal…” Harold shook his head and continued. “I don't believe it's required.”  

“Then I'm confused. I can promise and swear on my life all day and night that my lips will remain sealed, but why would you believe me? I'm sorry if this is rude, but that's delusional behavior. It's naive.”  

“The man that hurt you… His name is Muisk. I will let you decide his fate,” Harold suddenly said. It was shocking enough for me to do a double-take. “I will let you hold his life in your hands. No one permitted him to hurt any witnesses or suspects without first allowing me or my trusted guard to converse with them. He clearly disobeyed my direct commands– orders given to me by King Lando himself.”  

Without waiting for an answer, Harold opened the door, said something I couldn't hear, and returned to his seat after closing the door.  

It was a tense three minutes before the door opened. In walked that same winged-wildkin who flew me to the base camp, but she wasn't alone. Her weapon was pressed against a man’s back, who wore a bag over his head and chained cuffs clasped around his large wrists.   

His bruised knuckles told me he was the same one who shattered my jaw. Itarr had healed it a little bit to where it wouldn't look weird when I talked, but the damage was clearly visible.   

“That'll be all. Let us be.”  

The soldier nodded and promptly left, leaving the three of us alone. Harold stood, drew his sword, and ordered Muisk to kneel, which he did. Muisk ‘attempted’ to speak, but it was just gagged noises, so something was probably in his mouth.   

“Your life is in the hands of the innocent woman you saw fit to beat. Here, take the sword.”  

I grasped the hilt, then looked down at the shivering mess. “Is this some test? Why involve me?”  

“It is not a test. And why wouldn't it involve you? You're a victim of Canary’s darkest moments, and the light that should've illuminated your hope saw fit to delve you deeper into despair. I don't wish to force [Geas] upon you, nor do I want to take the life of my daughter’s teammate.” 

Are you hesitating, Servi? 

A little. If I were alone, I'd kill him dead. But something feels odd. There's something I'm not quite understanding about this situation. I put a hand in my pocket and texted the group chat.  

“Hesitation?” Harold suddenly asked. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. “If you decide his life isn't worth ending, then this marks the end of his punishment.”  

“I… The way you treated me makes me wonder how many other victims you've punished when they were speaking the truth… When they admitted the horrors that happened to them, you chose to ignore them because it didn't line up with your bias.” My mind pictured the boy and girl I saw the night I died. The Catkin with the wounds and missing ear. If they had tried to get help, would anyone believe them?  

Or would they disregard them as trash and continue to live their life because those children weren't worth disrupting their idyllic fantasy?  

The more I let my mind wander, the hotter I felt my blood boil.   

I raised the jeweled sword and brought it down, beheading Muisk.  

He died, and his soul became mine… Albert commented on it and asked if his looked similar. Itarr answered him.   

For a second, I was worried because Harold had this intense stare. I thought he was looking at the soul, but it was just the corpse below it before the red orb fluttered to my ring.   

The Golden Reliquary unintentionally confirmed a fear of mine. I wasn't the only one who could see the soul. Others could, and they could even possibly absorb them if the struggle for Myrokos’s soul was anything to go by.   

The last thing I needed was for Harold to be the same. He took his sword, knocked on the door, and gave it to the winged-wildkin as she dragged the corpse out. A second soldier entered to retrieve Muisk’s head, and Harold and I were left alone.   

It felt odd– unnerving, even, to see how casual he was about the whole situation.   

“Not going to react? I killed someone in front of you.”  

“It's not the first time I've seen death. And it won't be the last. Hmm? That look? Are you confused? Surprised?”  

“More than that. Let's say this hasn't gone how I thought it would.”  

“It almost sounds like you expected me to start shouting thinly veiled threats to order you to comply.” I nodded. “From my point of view, you've suffered too greatly. It's one thing to endure the kidnapping and stress of being sold, but it's another thing to experience that while you're without any memories.”  

My right eye twitched, and there it was.   

The key to this whole mystery.  

“Did–”  

“No, my daughter didn't reveal your secret. I didn't hear it from Momo, either. People talk. People listen. I know you used to live with a woman named Nimyra, otherwise known as the Queen of Night, and Lucy, a Goatkin. You’re friends with an elderly apothecary called Cassity. Witnesses have seen you with Albert Crystalerik days ago at one of the markets. There's an elf named Claire who works at Warden. You first spoke to her when you signed up. Then there's Dineria, another elf who lives with Claire. You showed off your… What was it… A ‘Skill Phone,’ I believe you called it? A Skill Tablet taking that shape is almost certainly unheard of, so it draws attention more than you might think.”  

“I was wondering when you would bring out the threats. What–”  

“I don't know what you've experienced to make you like this, but I promise you, as Harold Flynn, patriarch of the Flynn Estate, that your skepticism is unneeded. I debated even bringing this up because I expected you to interpret it as such.” Harold cut me off and tried to ease my heart.   

“I'm sorry, but I'm sure you can imagine I have many reasons to not take anyone at face value. Trust is a difficult subject because I don't have memories to examine any bias I once had.”  

“Why don't I offer my services?” Harold asked. I wanted him to explain further, and he said he could use his resources to dispatch mercenaries to ask around about me. They would go all over Lando-- to the largest cities and most remote villages.   

“And you would do that for me?”  

“I would. Of course, I trust you to exercise common sense and refrain from telling anyone the truth about what you've experienced. That includes the Queen of Night, my daughter, and everyone else.” 

I took that to mean I couldn't reveal or speak about anything he deemed unnecessary or dangerous. No talk of necromancers, no word of Parrel being Viridian, and no mention of the Golden Reliquary, Adam, or Eve. I could only tell people I was held captive and freed by warriors bearing the emblem of Lando’s Nail, which were immediately dispatched posthaste by King Lando.  

I confirmed it with him, and Harold nodded. “You catch on quick, Servi.” I asked about Viridian and the other stuff I told him. King Lando ruled this country, and while Harold was a trusted advisor and close friend, he could only report his findings. Things would naturally escalate once the relevant parties had drawn their own conclusions. 

Punishments would come later, of course. Honestly... I hoped everyone who attended the market would hang from the gallows.   

When it seemed as if we didn't have much to discuss, this scene ended. I shook Harold's hand and thanked him, and he apologized again. “There is one more thing… You called that a ‘one-way mirror,’ yes?”   

“Yes, I did. Why?”  

“I've never heard that term before. We call it a silvered mirror because the reflective paint used to coat one side is made from silver alloy… What an interesting name. Just to let you know, Servi, when you had that encounter with Muisk, no one was permitted to be on the other side. One of the two key holders was nearly fatally wounded in battle. The other one is busy surveying the damages from a series of bombs that were set off before the attack began.”  

“He just acted like someone was in there?” Harold nodded.   

If that was correct, two people in Canary knew what went down.   

Myself and Harold…  

Was that an omen of what was to come in the future? 

I could think about that later. Harold opened the door for me and escorted me to the front lobby. The soldiers I saw saluted Harold as we walked through the hallways. Albert said this was the noble district's central headquarters. It was lavish and clean enough to look the part. The marbled floor and decorative walls were exquisitely pristine.   

Harold bid me farewell and said he had much more to do, but he mentioned I had an escort waiting for me in front of the building. Thanking him, I watched as he turned on his heels and wandered back down the hallways. Four soldiers flanked and escorted him to wherever he needed to go.   

Once outside in the starry night, I saw a horse-drawn, extravagantly fancy carriage bearing the Crimson Grotto's emblem. A man I didn't know was sitting in the driver's seat, but he instructed me to enter.   

I approached the door. It suddenly slammed open to reveal a Drow Elf I hadn't seen in a long time. She cried immediately upon seeing me, her eyeshadow leaking down her cheeks. Nimyra covered her mouth with her hands and almost broke down into a crying mess.  

She reached and put a trembling hand on my bruised cheek, running a finger across the blood splattered across my lips.   

“Hi, Nimyra. It's been… It's been a while…” I whispered, getting in. The door closed behind me. With a snap of the driver's whip, the carriage started to move.   

“Servi!!!” The feel of her arms around my neck just felt so right. I found myself getting misty-eyed and hugged her back.