Ariadne and the Flaming Torch : The Quest

Book 1 : The Quest

Chapter 1
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The blood red moon hung in the open night sky, marking the streets with an ominous color. I dropped from the roof onto the street on the balls of my feet. The shadow lurked behind me and I knew that if I didn't run fast enough, I would be its prey.

A light drizzle of rain fell from the sky, saturating the atmosphere with a murky scent. Mom was crying. Again! God, why must that woman worry about me so much? Honestly sometimes it's a bit annoying. I know she only wants what's best for me but it gets a tad annoying when your mom smothers your face with wet kisses and all but crushes the bones in your body when she's hugging you.

I remember when I was five years old; I almost fell off a cliff. I was chasing a butterfly with the innocence only a child could possess and I wasn't looking where I was going. If it wasn't for Solis calling out for me, I would have probably been in a coma for months - the cliff wasn't that steep. My mother was in hysterics when Solis told him of the incidence and my mom was catatonic. When mother hugged me I thought for sure the bones that were saved from being broken by Solis, would have broken now.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Head in the game, Ariadne!

I silently looked up at the sky. At least the rain will mark my distinctive scent. It’s distinctive because it smells like death...but it also smells like life. Actually saying that I have a scent would be lying. I have no scent. It’s the natural defense mechanism a hybrid is born with. It’s my essence that smells like death and life - an oxymoron, I know. Though saying I was a hybrid would be lying too...

A crash sounded from behind me and I cursed the high heavens. Yeah, thank you for the nice present but I don't want it.

I whirled around and dodged the blade that was hurling at me by millimeters. Stupid gods!
I swiftly took the uchigatana out of the black leather sheath I had wrapped tightly around my waist with a piece cloth and circled them in my hands. The Soul Reaper mirrored my movements. We silently circled each other, sizing the other up.

I had to get a Soul Reaper, didn't I? A Death Bringer would have been better that this! At least with the Death Bringer I would have been able to be revived.
I sighed in annoyance.

A Death Bringer does exactly that, it brings death in the most brutal ways possible - mangled bodies, burned vessels, headless remains. With a Death Bringer only the death of the body occurs which can be revived with the juice of the Eternal Flower - an exclusive flower that can only be picked by the gods.

But with a Soul Reaper, there is no revival; no new life; no second death. You're dead in every sense of the word - body, mind, essence. Nothing of you is left but the soulless vessel that is your body. Not to mention, the Soul Reapers are "special agents", I suppose you could call them, of the underworld - Hade’s one - and they are kick ass fighters. You'd be lucky to survive an attack from a Soul Reaper and live to tell the tale.

The Soul Reapers are born with an unknown insignia burned into any part of their bodies. The Council of Hade’s Underworld recognized the insignia by unknown methods. They steal them from their mothers' arms and train them since birth, honing them like some would hone their blade. Not only are they murderers trained by the best of the best - the Underworlders lives are hard and filled with battle - but they also have the ability to extract the soul from someone's eyes. I suppose they are somewhat like Medusa, since she looks though the eyes, the windows to the stone, to turn them into soul, trapping the souls inside.

The Soul Reapers use the same methods with opposite results. Instead of trapping the souls inside they extract them and then sully them with seductive deeds and murder and lead them to Hell. Looking into the eyes of a Soul Reaper is the worst fate someone could have, hence the thick wool scarf wrapped snugly and tightly around my eyes. It was a gift from my uncle; it won’t open unless the hand of the first person that touched it unties it - it’s enchanted that way.

Come to think of it, I owe my uncle or else I would have been Gone years ago - this isn't the only Soul Reaper I've fought with in the past few months. My uncle was the one that taught me to fight. He's been training me since I could talk and I'm almost as advanced as The Soul Reapers in battle. Not to mention, I've got a pouch filled with the juice of the Eternal Flower wrapped around my waist with the same cloth as the one holding my sheath in place. Also, I shouldn't forget the cuffs around my hand with the insignia of the Gods on it that helps me maximize and pinpoint the result of my abilities with minimum efforts.

But then again, I'm still on same ground as the Soul Reaper because I can't stab his eyes. This one's blind - damn it, he's from the Royal Guard. There are two types of Soul Reapers as far as I know - The Manipulation and The Shadow Lurkers.

The Manipulation does what their name suggests - they manipulate. They stare deep into the eyes of the victim. Their eyes are - unfortunately - beautiful; tri-colored and filled with mystery. Once you look into them you can't look away - I would know I lost an aunt to them - and their eyes literally glow. They glow with codes, codes which them of the essence of the soul - their likes, dislikes, their souls. Then they coax the soul to come out from the security of their vessels and manipulate them. Even after the soul is free of their vessels, our bodies are somewhat alive; they wait for the return of the souls. It isn't until the soul travels to one realm that the body really dies.

After bringing the soul forth, The Manipulators show the souls seductive dreams of sex, blood and absolute free will - no laws, no boundaries - the thing most sought after by humans. Even after the soul is free from the body, it does not necessarily mean that the soul will travel to the Underworld, it could choose any of the three realms; it could even travel to different worlds. So the Manipulator does his job and coaxes the soul into the Netherlands until the soul is bound in hell.

Next are the Shadow Lurkers. Not much is known about them besides the face that they are lone wolves - they shun company and are a mean pain in the ass if you piss them off; like I was doing right at this moment.
The Lurker slammed his sword forward and I dodged...just in time to receive a deadly kick aimed at my skull. My sight blurred and that was all the Lurker needed. He hit me with a barrage of punches and kicks. I barely dodged each and held my arms in front of my face; the metal mask around my head protected me from any further damage to my head - I think I already had a minor concussion.

The Lurker aimed a punch at my ribs and I caught his hands and twisted, simultaneously kicking him in his side repeatedly. He tore his hand from my grip but I was one step ahead. I swung the uchigatana and sliced it forward towards his ribs in a fluid motion. I was aiming for a place under his right ribs where it would hurt the most; the sword ripped through the soft flesh and I twisted it so the wound wouldn't heal easily. In a fluid movement I brought the sword out but I missed the hand that was coming at me, brandishing a katana.

The katana struck my hand and white spots erupted in my vision. Fuck! I gritted my teeth; the pain was mind-numbing. No, it wasn't mind-numbing, it was terrifying. My arm was on fire and hurt like Hell. I hate the Gods!

I hissed a breath through clenched teeth and we both jumped back at the same time, our hands nursing our wounds. The pain was getting worse, damn it! I swayed on my feet and the Lurker took his chance and swung his katana towards me.
No way, not again! I swung my uchigatana forward and blocked his attack just in time - the force of his attack sent me staggering back and I clenched my hidden eyes shut. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. I can do this!
With my not-so-motivational pep-talk in mind, I changed my stance. Legs slightly apart and feet firmly placed in front of the other, hands held wide but not wide enough for an attack to break through and my sword gripped slackly in my hand but with pressure on the wrists.
With this stance I charged forward. I jabbed at his wounded ribs but he blocked it; on the bright side I was forcing him back, that's always a good thing. I reverse gripped my bade and sliced it into an uppercut, aiming for his ribs. He tried to dodge but missed, my blade cut a twin mark into his ribs forming a lopsided X which glistened with blood.

He staggered back to take a breath and I took my chance, I hit the edge of his black mask with the hilt of my sword and his mark flew off.
Sitting before me was a beautiful blonde woman with white on white milky eyes. I hesitated for a second and immediately regretted it...for no reason. She didn't charge like I thought she would, she just stood there with pain in her eyes. I couldn't even destroy her eyes, even if I did, she would still be able to take my soul. Blinding a blind... That wouldn't work. She's already seen death and dark and she would still be able to acquire my soul even if I demolished her eyes. It's their gift - or curse, depending on which way you want to look at it - and no one knows why. It's just the way they are and that's why they are the Royal Guards - their ability to acquire souls with no sight is coveted.

So what do I do? Kill her? Might as well, she's just going to reappear in Hell...and then she'd have to face Hade’s wrath. I mentally shuddered at that. No one should have to go through that. So what to do? I'll ask her.
I cleared my throat and her head snapped towards me. I smiled and asked her, "Now what?"
She looked at me, dubious, before shrugging and saying, "Send me back to Hell. I have failed and deserve whatever punishment my Father wishes to torture me with." Even as she said it, I could see she was conflicted.

No one wants to face Hade’s wrath, death in the worst ways possible is better than that. Maybe I should send her to Persephone. But then again does she deserve that mercy? I could only image the thousands of souls she'd manipulated and misled. All those poor creatures; suffering in misery for lusting after what they could never freely have. They were suffering for being human. I didn't want to remember the scenes Persephone had shown me but they flooded into my vision.

Suddenly a sword slammed into my stomach, inches from my heart. Bitch! The bitch stabbed me. I looked at her and saw her smirking face. No, she doesn't deserve that mercy. She deserves death but I wouldn't be there to deliver it. I would be dead in the true sense of the word - in body, mind, soul and essence. Already I could feel my soul being extracted from me. It was the most painful thing in the world. It's not like something is being torn from you, no. It feels like you're nothing. You're not there, nothing at all. And that loneliness and despair is the most painful thing that you feel and will ever feel.

It's like all your horrors, all the pain you have ever felt, all the guilt, all the remorse, all the tears, all the pain, all the memories is being drained from you and being brought to center, leaving behind nothing but an empty corpse.
I wanted to die. Suicidal? No. At this point anything would be better than this. I could feel my soul leaving my body and being stored inside her katana - so that's how they did it - beside many others who lay there. I'm going to die. The realization sent a shuttering bout of grief through me. I couldn't leave my family behind, not after Mother. I was all they had left.
Tears leaked from my eyes and I felt consciousness leave me. The smug bitch's face turning into one of horror was all I saw before I succumbed to the darkness.