A Soul Divided (The Blood Fire Trilogy Book 1)

A Soul Divided

By Daniel M. Quilter

Copyright 2014 Daniel M. Quilter,

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

For Lauryn: Thank you for supporting me in the good times as well as the bad.

Chapter 1: Olivia

“Twenty years ago the Mystics attacked without provocation. They descended savagely on the outer rim planets, killing thousands of Humans and taking thousands more into slavery.

“Fearing peacekeeping reactions from the Neutral Zones the Human Empire chose to retaliate against the Mystics with a lower level of aggression, fighting exclusively with small arms.

“This style of fighting was completely un...”

Olivia shut off the recording.

As the princess of the Human Empire it was important to understand the history of her people, but listening to the video history lessons about it was always so boring.

Tonight was the first clear night in weeks, and Olivia planned on spending it looking at the stars.

Olivia stepped out onto her balcony, looking up toward the sky.

The stars were beautiful tonight. It was rare to see them so clearly.

The Palace shook slightly, disturbing Olivia’s star gazing and causing her to lose balance. She caught herself on the balcony’s smooth, marble handrail.

We must have hit turbulence while passing over the city. She thought. The Air Palace was so large that most weather patterns didn’t affect its flight path, but when they went over the larger cities the updrafts of hot air and steam coming off of the industrial skyscrapers sometimes gave them a slight jolt. The movement was probably nothing to be worried about, but she was sure that a whole troop of V.A.L.O.R. soldiers would be deployed to investigate anyway.

Security was so tight here that an investigation was launched every time a bird landed on a wall. And it was even tighter tonight since the Palace landed for new supplies and personnel exchange earlier that day.

The Air Palace’s flight path was kept top secret, and it would stay moving for six months at a time without ever stopping unless it was an emergency. Only the highest ranking military officials knew where it was going ahead of time. That way it was much harder to plan an attack against it. With a war being fought on one end of the Human Empire against the Mystics and an even harsher, never-ending battle against the unknown hostiles raging at the other end, it often paid off to be a little more cautious. Although, with all the elite V.A.L.O.R. soldiers acting as the Palace Guards and the huge turrets mounted all over the walls, they were likely to win any battle that would be waged against them.

Olivia shifted her attention down toward the outer wall. Five V.A.L.O.R. soldiers gathered around a single man pointing their assault rifles at his chest.

This should be interesting.
Olivia thought.

She lifted a small metallic object out of the pocket of her robe. She had planned to use her view screen to look up at the stars, but since this seemed more interesting, she might as well use it to watch the guards question some poor janitor who was cleaning the wrong place at the wrong time.

“View screen activate.” Olivia said as she sat the little machine on her balcony railing. The view screen responded instantly, whirring to life and projecting an image of the group of soldiers into the air above it. Just as Olivia had suspected, the man wore a janitor uniform. The poor janitor looked so tiny next to the V.A.L.O.R. soldiers. With their heavy plated mechanical armor, and the tinted visors covering their faces, the V.A.L.O.R. soldiers looked more like machines than men; and the thick armor made them appear to be twice their normal size.

“Zoom fifty percent.” Olivia said. Her view screen responded, zooming in so she could see the details as if she stood next to the group of people. The janitor seemed to be trying to explain something to the guards, probably his reasons for being on the wall.

No audio came through, but judging from the equipment bag he hauled with him, Olivia guessed that he had been sent up there to fix something and somebody had forgotten to inform the guards.

He was a strange looking man though. His skin was pale, almost like he was sick. And even though he looked like a younger man, he already had brilliant silver hair. But his most striking feature was his blood red eyes.

The guards were right to question him; although most Mystics looked more like animals, many members of the religion looked almost identical to Humans. So it never hurt to check.

The janitor burst into motion, pulling something out of his sleeve and ramming it into a small slit that allowed movement of the neck in the nearest soldier’s armor.

He went limp within seconds falling dead into the janitor’s arms.

The other V.A.L.O.R. soldiers opened fire; their automatic heavy assault rifles sending a spray of bullets toward the man who had just murdered their comrade.

Not a single bullet hit him.

Every bullet found its way into the armor clad corpse that rested on top of their target.

Not wasting a second, the mysterious man picked up the rifle of the fallen soldier and unleashed a wave of bullets, landing perfect kill shots on the other four soldiers without even taking the time to aim.

Without hesitation the man dropped the dead soldier and retrieved his bag, drawing out a short sword and some kind of machine that looked to be an arm-mounted gun except that it had a blade off to one side.

Moving fast, the attacker lifted the device, pointing it toward a group of approaching soldiers, and pulled the trigger.

Olivia couldn’t see anything leave the barrel, but it must have fired something because the ground in front of the attacker exploded upward taking the soldiers along with it.

The attacker strode over to the group of soldiers. His face remained eerily calm as he ran his short sword in through even the tiniest slits in their armor.  

Within seconds the entire platoon of soldiers lay on the floor in pools of their own blood.

Alarms rang throughout the Palace; but not an intruder alarm as Olivia had expected. A pre-recorded message played through the speakers installed in the ceiling of every room.

“A bomb has been detected in the Palace. Please attach the emergency security straps that should already have been released and await further instructions.”

Olivia looked inside her room to see the straps being released from the wall just as the message had said.

I should follow protocol.
She thought as she moved toward the straps. But the alarm had sounded too late.

A series of explosions rang out from the outer wings of the Palace before Olivia reached the safety of her security straps.

The explosions were almost as bright as they were loud. The entire palace shook from the force of their detonation as they destroyed the supports that connecting its main flight engines.

The building lurched, knocking Olivia off her feet and onto the floor of her bedroom.

What was that?
Olivia thought as she rose back up from the ground. The lurching must have come from the auxiliary engines turning on to keep the palace airborne.  They wouldn’t hold the palace up for long, but at least they would allow it to land instead of crashing down to the ground.

A second set of explosions rang through the night. Olivia yelled out as the sudden movement of the falling Palace threw her up against the ceiling. She fell back to the floor as the Palace’s second set of back up thrusters kicked in. These, however, couldn’t keep the Palace airborne for any extended period. All they would do was slow its fall.

Her back hurt from being thrown around during the explosions, but she’d avoided hitting her head, so she would be fine as long as she strapped herself in before the Palace impacted with the ground.

She struggled back up to her feet and ran to the straps dangling from the wall. Her hands shook as she worked to make the buckles go together around her. As the safety straps finally clicked together, she glanced out at her balcony to see that her view screen had fallen over the edge during the violent shaking that the bombs had caused. She couldn’t see what was going on anymore, but she could still hear the gunfire.

Are they still fighting the one man? Or are their more?

The gunfire outside stopped.

Did it stop because the V.A.L.O.R. soldiers had killed the attacker? Or was it because the attacker had killed them all? That thought made Olivia shudder.

A loud knock sounded from her bedroom door.

“Princess!” A voice from the hallway yelled out. “The Palace isn’t safe for you anymore; we’re taking you to meet your father in the hangar for evacuation.”

Olivia recognized the voice. It was Kaleb, the V.A.L.O.R. soldier assigned to protect her for the night.

“I’ll be right there!” She yelled out as she fumbled to undo the straps that held her against the wall.

She struggled to make her way across the shifting room as it fell toward the ground. When she arrived at the door she punched in the code on the small number pad next to it. It slid open just in time for her to see the intruder run his short sword through Kaleb’s neck.

Olivia couldn’t help but let out a scream as her bodyguard dropped to the floor, and the intruder stepped into her room, locking his eyes with hers. They looked as red as the blood that stained the blade of his sword.

Olivia’s mind raced. What options did she have for escape? The balcony was too high up; a jump from there would kill her. The windows had the same problem, and the vents were too small for her to fit through. Her only chance of escape lay behind the demon in her doorway who had just massacred an entire army to get to her.

Tears flooded Olivia’s eyes as she balled her hands into fists. She knew that she stood no chance against this man, but if he came at her then there was no way she would go down without a fight.

The intruder stepped forward. Olivia burst into a run straight toward him, swinging her fist wildly toward his face. He caught her fist with almost no effort and twisted her arm behind her back. Olivia dropped to her knees as pain shot through her arm and back.

“My employer does not require me to hurt you.” The man said, releasing her arm and moving his hand up to cover her mouth. “But I have no qualms with doing so if you struggle.” Olivia made no attempt to respond. All she could do was sob as the man pulled her up to her feet.

How could this have happened?
She thought as she watched the room fill with terrified soldiers trying to protect her from a man that none of them knew how to stop.

The attacker’s face remained emotionless as the captain of the guard ordered him to release the princess or be shot. Without saying a word he moved his finger to pull the trigger on his strange arm-mounted device. The soldiers watched, not knowing what to do, as the attacker and their princess both vanished into thin air.

Chapter 2: Vahn

Vahn stood on the top of the steel walls of the palace, looking out over the destruction from the previous night. It all seemed so unreal.  Crews of workers still toiled away in the rubble, removing the dead bodies of fallen soldiers. Had it really only been one man who did all this? How did he do it? Just getting inside the Palace seemed like an impossible feat, and yet, he’d done it easily enough and then fought his way through thousands of elite V.A.L.O.R. Soldiers.  Nobody should have been able to do that by themselves. Who was this man?

Vahn couldn’t remember much from the previous night. He took a blow to the head during the first round of explosions. He didn’t even know the palace had gone down until he woke up several hours after the crash. Fortunately, the medics said the wound didn’t cause any permanent damage. So many people had died in last night’s slaughter that the Palace Guard was left seriously short-handed; even wounded soldiers were being set on watch duty until the new guards arrived.

        Vahn turned and looked over the gaping hole that just the night before had been the connection between the palace and its main flight engines. He had been standing right on top of it, his rifle trained on the attacker, when it exploded. Oddly enough, the guards that had been knocked out by the explosion were some of the only ones who saw the attacker and survived.

“A lot of excitement for your first day on the job, huh?” A voice came from behind him.  Vahn turned quickly to find the source. Captain Brooks Fisher stood there in his red and blue armor. Vahn wore the same thing; although his didn’t have a captain’s emblem on the shoulder.

Vahn found the color scheme of the Palace Guard uniform to be a little showier than was really necessary, but those were the colors of the nation from Old Earth that had discovered New Earth and founded the Human Empire. That happened thousands of years ago, and nobody even knew where Old Earth was anymore, much less the name of the country whose colors they bore, but traditions had to be respected.

“Yeah,” Vahn replied.  “I hope it doesn’t get that exciting again. If I knew this would happen, I never would have taken your invitation to join the Guard.”

“If you’re hoping for less excitement then you might be disappointed.” Brooks replied. “You’ve been summoned to speak in the King’s council.”

“What?” Vahn asked skeptically. Captain Brooks served in the war against the Mystics alongside Vahn. They fought together in the same unit for nearly a year before Brooks had been promoted to the Guard. He had a reputation for playing practical jokes on his men, but Vahn had never known him to play a joke in the wake of so much death.

“Seriously.” Brooks said. “The King went over the records of the guards that transferred in yesterday, and he thinks you may be useful in the new mission being formed to rescue the princess. He wants you to report to his council room as soon as possible.” He paused for a moment before continuing. His familiar smile came to his face as he met Vahn’s eyes. “Seriously Vahn, you’re already the youngest soldier to be promoted to Guardsman in twenty years and now you’re going to speak in the king’s council? Keep this up and you’ll be a general one day.”

Brooks’ tone was sincere. So this wasn’t just a joke. The king really did want to see Vahn.

“Not if I show up late after the king has requested my presence. I’ll let you know how it goes.” Vahn said as he walked away, heading toward the king’s council chambers. Brooks followed closely behind him.  

It took every ounce of will power Vahn possessed to not let the anxiety show in his face. But he didn’t let his emotions show. If the king was calling him in right after a major attack from the Mystics, it was obviously because he read about Vahn’s lineage in his file. Vahn’s father was a Mystic, and Vahn lived with him until he was 9 years old. Despite questioning that he’d gone through in the past, and the countless times that he had proven his loyalty to the Human Empire, the fact that he had ties to the Mystics would still look incriminating since he had arrived the same day as the attacker.

        Vahn and Brooks were both forced to turn in their weapons and be searched before entering; taking them an extra fifteen minutes to enter the room after their initial arrival.  The security officers took their time performing the search, checking every inch of the bulky, metal guardsman armor meticulously. Vahn tried to remain professional and keep his emotions contained during the search, but he was beginning to sweat a little by the time he and Brooks entered the council chamber.

The room was plain. It had no windows and only one guarded door. The only furniture was a table with a computer screen imbedded into it in front of each of the men seated around it.

The room looked nothing like Vahn expected it to. The rest of the Palace was covered with extravagant art; bright tapestries and antique portraits lined every wall, but this room had no decoration at all.

“You’re Guardsmen Ashbell, I presume?”  The King’s deep, authoritative voice boomed from the head of the large table in the center of the room.

King Ryker Winterton was a strong man both physically and mentally. He spent his entire sixteen years on the throne engaged in war.  The Empire already fought against the Mystics for years when he’d been crowned king, and the Hostiles began attacking only one day after his coronation. Vahn had assumed that all the fighting would make him a hard man, yet something about the way he spoke felt almost calming.

“Yes, your majesty.” Vahn replied with a slight bow to show his respect, then standing back up and looking straight into the king’s brown eyes.

“There’s no need to bow to me.” The king said plainly. “Have a seat and let’s get started.” That was an odd thing to hear from royalty; however, Ryker seemed to break all of the clichés of being king. Despite his wealth and power, he wore the same uniform as all of his generals. There seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary about his appearance at all, but he carried such an air of authority.

Vahn sat down in the nearest empty seat.

“Thank you for bringing him here Captain Fisher.” Ryker said. “You may go about your regular duties now.”

“Yes, your majesty.” Brooks responded as he turned and left the room, the huge metal doors sliding closed automatically behind him as he went.

“Now let’s get back to business.” Ryker said, turning to look Vahn in the eye.  “As you probably assumed, we have been discussing last night’s attack and we have now reached a point where we would like to hear your account of events.”

“You’re Majesty.” Vahn said, trying his best to sound confident. “I was incapacitated in the first five minutes of the attack. I don’t see how I would have any information you couldn’t get more reliably from the security footage.”

“I agree.” Ryker said, “But we didn’t call you here to ask you what you saw in the attack. We want you to tell us what you know about the attacker.”

“Well,” Vahn began, somewhat confused by the question. “I assumed he was a Mystic, but it was odd that he had to use some kind of device to channel his power. I’ve never seen any of the Mystic soldiers do that.”

“An astute observation, Guardsman Ashbell.” Ryker said. “Were you able to identify his race?”

        Vahn thought back to what he had seen of the attacker. He looked like an ordinary human, except for the paleness of his skin, and those disturbing, blood red, eyes. Those features definitely stood out. If Vahn had seen them before he would have remembered.

“I was unfamiliar with his race.” Vahn replied, trying to sound official.

        Ryker ran his fingers through his slowly graying, but still mostly black hair before looking toward Vahn, the stress of last night’s attack showed in his face. Vahn couldn’t help but be impressed by the level of professionalism the king showed in the wake of such a devastating loss.

“That’s because our attacker wasn’t a Mystic.” Ryker paused for a moment before continuing. “You do understand that everything I’m about to share with you is privileged information and is not to be repeated to anybody that hasn’t received my clearance?”

        What was happening? Why would the king be sharing this information with him? If the attacker wasn’t a Mystic, then what did any of this have to do with Vahn? Had he really performed so admirably in his duties that being called into this council meeting was just because he actually belonged here? Vahn always did his best in the line of duty, but he couldn’t recall doing anything worthy of an invitation to meet with the king in person. There must be something he was missing, but the only way he would find out would be to simply continue the conversation.

“Yes, You’re Majesty.” Vahn replied.

“Good.” Ryker said. “Then we’ll proceed with your debriefing. I’ll review old information for Guardsman Ashbell’s sake.”

The king cleared his throat before continuing.

 Sixteen years ago, our government initiated a top secret program known as Project Diritas. The project aimed to create an army that could defeat the Fortunatus in battle.  That’s why we’ve called you here, Guardsman Ashbell; according to your file, your father is Fortunatus. Is this information correct?”

        Vahn began to feel nervous. The information was correct. His lineage had been a source of discrimination against him in the past. The Fortunatus were once the most dangerous enemies of the Human Empire. They used the same power as the rest of the Mystics, but they had another supernatural ability the other Mystic races didn’t possess. Somehow, they could subconsciously change their surroundings, altering events to always be in their best interests. Or in other words, they were extremely lucky. That power gave them an incredible advantage in battle.

In the end, the Human Empire launched a large enough assault on them that not even their luck could save them. The race was nearly extinct, but those who were old enough to remember them hated them.

“Yes, you’re Majesty.” Vahn replied. “That is correct, but with all due respect, I’m not following how I’ll be able to help you with our current problem.” That wasn’t entirely true. Vahn was beginning to understand what the king was referring to, but all that he had heard on the subject were rumors. He would look like a fool if he spoke up about it just to be proven wrong and labelled as a conspiracy theorist.

“Perhaps you will see after I’ve finished giving you all the information.” Ryker said in a calming tone. “The army we raised to fight the Fortunatus did not consist of regular soldiers. To counteract their ability to manipulate circumstance in their favor; our army was genetically engineered with the ability to manipulate circumstance to be unfavorable for their opponents.”

        Vahn paused for a moment, his suspicions were confirmed. The king was definitely referring to Anti-Lucks. So they were real. And apparently one had come back to attack its own creators.  

“They make people unlucky?” Vahn said, furrowing his eyebrows slightly in feigned confusion. Since he had pretended not to know, he needed to stick with it if he wanted to avoid having suspicion thrown on him.

“That would be the simplest way to say it, I suppose.” Ryker replied.

“But how is it that an Anti-Luck is able to manipulate circumstances without using the power of the Mystics?” Vahn continued. “I’ve never heard of those powers being replicated. I’ve never heard of anybody even coming close to copying their powers.”

This time he wasn’t faking his curiosity. He really had no idea how the Human Empire had managed to manufacture an army, and much less how they had successfully given them a power that should only have been available to the Mystics.

“Unfortunately,” Ryker replied. “Little is known about the project now. My father oversaw the whole thing before I took the throne, and the scientists involved destroyed their research and took their own lives after their army failed to come home alive. If we could still access their research then our problem would be simple. We would simply make another Anti-Luck to defeat the one who attacked us last night.”

“So you think I know a way defeat him?” Vahn asked incredulously, still in disbelief about how much information the king was sharing with him.

“We already know what we have to do to defeat him, Guardsman Ashbell.” Ryker replied. “We’ve already discussed other options and we have determined the only thing that can counteract the abilities of this Anti-Luck is the power of the Fortunatus.”

So that was it. They thought that Vahn would be able to counteract the Anti-luck’s powers. But they were wrong. Vahn was only half Fortunatus. All of the genes that made the Fortunatus different from Humans were recessive. Not a single Fortunatus trait was manifest in Vahn. As far as biology went Vahn was exactly the same as any other Human. The king was going to be disappointed.

“Maybe you could try hiring a team of Draco Hominis,” Vahn said, “I’m sure they would take the job for the right price, and they can negate the power of any of the Mystics.”

“I do not make a habit of repeating myself, Ashbell.” Ryker said, “So I hope you will focus and recall that I already stated the Anti-Luck is not a Mystic. The Draco Hominis will fall to him the same way that our soldiers fell last night. What we want, Guardsman Ashbell, is a Fortunatus.”

Here it was, the king was going to officially ask him, so Vahn couldn’t play dumb anymore. He had to admit that he couldn’t use the Mystic’s power, and that his luck was the same as anybody else’s.

“With all due respect, sir,” Vahn said, “I don’t think that I can help you with that. I don’t have any of the powers of the Fortunatus.”