SoulSharer: Shadow KingsChapter 1
Equus, Frozen North, 19:46 hours
The wind howled across the unforgiving plains of the Frozen North, the icy bitterness cutting and freezing the bones of anypony or anything that came to it’s wake. The moon was not visible that night, the dense clouds blocking out any chance for natural light. Snow whipped across the plains, tearing into the icy fields that lied miles away, nearing the actual frozen soil that lied on the outskirts of the Crystal Empire. Only a statue garden lay on these outskirts, the only evidence that ponies once thrived in these now frozen plains. With the winds raging that night, nothing could survive the frozen intensity.
Nothing, except a curved broken horn.
At the border where the frozen soil met the ice fields, under a pile of snow, lay a curved red broken horn, frozen, lost from its owner. The tip stuck out from the snow, the only evidence that it was physically there. The raging winds had tried to wear it away, but it remained after a very long time, proving it was still surviving. The horn once belonged to a king, a tyrant who took control of the Empire miles away and made it simply vanish from existence for 1,000 years. It would not go down without a fight. And that fight against the Frozen North, it was losing.
As the winds began to howl at their peak intensity, they suddenly slowed, flowing to a stop. It was incredible, the unforgiving winds of the Frozen North suddenly stopping. Even the snow it carried was suspended in mid-air, as if an overpowered magic had simply decided to stop the air itself.
The world seemed to freeze in that moment; the dark clouds above stopping entirely, the snow suspended in form, it was all-too impossible.
Just as impossible as everything in the most merciless place on Equus stopping was, the clouds began to part.
The Frozen North became something unreal. The winds never stopped howling nor the clouds ever parting. And yet, the clouds parted in the skies of the frozen plains, separating like a rip in the sky tearing apart at the seams of reality.
But reality was not tearing apart. It was an intense anomaly, one of impossible proportions that was indeed real. The clouds were parting for the first time in over 10,000 years. And the moonlight fell upon the one object struggling to survive.
The broken horn.
The horn glowed beneath the moonlight, the snow around it illuminated pale blue. The light was slowly absorbed by the horn, alerting the life form inside. But after a few minutes, the horn glowed with a golden aura.
It was faint at first, but soon grew in intensity, the golden aura becoming thicker and brighter with each passing second.
The glow was, to say the least, strange, for multiple reasons. For one, the horn shouldn’t have been glowing by itself without it’s host; two, the original aura color was cobalt blue, not gold; and three, the glow was a force not of Equus, making it all the more mysterious.
The snow quickly began to melt off the horn, revealing it’s full foot-long length. The glow began to melt all snow around the horn, letting it sink until the horn reached the dead, frozen ground. The glow extended from the bottom of the horn as a body began to take shape.
It was twisted and broken at first, but soon the limbs molded to where they were supposed to be, and the body took the form of a pony. The body grew into one of a foal’s, grey fur growing over it and a black mane developing over its head and down its neck. The ground beneath the foal started to glow with the same golden aura, the ground warming. As the foal grew, the ground began to have flecks of green around him. Life itself, in that moment, in that area, was reviving.
The foal soon grew bigger, its limbs extending as it became a small colt. It continued to grow, its small voice getting deeper, the horn finding its proper place on the now young stallion’s head. It finally stopped growing five minutes after it had started, the ground beneath it green with newly grown grass. The stallion awoke after the glow had stopped, his eyes changed back to blue instead of red and green with purple smoke. He turned, examining his new surroundings.
How in the world did I end up here? he asked in his thoughts. The last thing he remembered was fighting his darker self at a lake by the statue gardens on the outskirts of the Crystal Empire.
He remembered pinning his dark self to the ice, hissing, “It’s over. Return the Crystal Heart now.”
And the darker side merely chuckled, the sound of the ice splitting behind them startling the stallion. He turned to find the ice’s path of destruction heading towards him, and the darker self turned to shadowy binds and holding him there on the ice with no chance of escape. The ice split, and he fell under. That was all he remembered. He was defeated. Or was he?
The stallion shook his head, getting rid of the memory from his focus point. However he had gotten to that point in the Frozen North, he was just thankful he had made it out alive. And by the looks of it, healthy as ever. Only, his horn felt a bit… heavier than usual.
He reached up to touch the horn, making sure it was still his straight, normal horn, and was met with a smooth, curved surface.
Wait. Curved.
The stallion frantically wiped away at the snow in front of him, eager to find some reflective surface that he could use to see why his horn felt curved. As he reached the frozen soil before him, he paused.
The darker side of him had a curved horn.
The stallion began to panic.
Am I the darker side? Am I corrupted and twisted? Can I use dark magic?
The questions flooded his brain, and he had trouble keeping track of which ones were important and which ones came out of nowhere.
Why do I have the image of a human in my brain?
That question snapped the stallion to attention, all other questions fading away like mist. Why did he have the image of a human in his brain? Much less, a teenaged human boy currently sleeping. The image discomforted the stallion, yet intrigued him. The boy had messy black hair, slightly pale tan skin, and rather handsome features. The stallion felt a strange connection with this boy he couldn’t explain, like knowing a face without knowing the person.
As the stallion examined the image further, a faint voice called out to him.
“Sssombraaaah…”
The stallion was started by the use of his name.
“Sssombraaaah… looook uup,” it told him. It was childlike, and yet the gender was indistinguishable.
Sombra was extremely freaked out. How did the voice know his name? And why was it telling him to look up? Possibly regretting listening to the voice, he looked up, and saw the slice in the clouds, that one area that showed the beautiful night, showing the crescent moon, and blacked out.
Aether, New Dveri City, 19:46 hours
Winds whipped across New Dveri City, a slight chill signaling the coming winter. It was not uncommon, these wild winds in the upper level of New Dveri City, but certainly could throw someone off who was not used to the high speed winds. Despite it’s force, the wind did not wear down on the sleek white buildings that showed no sign of seams or windows. These buildings were the product of a new technology that had been developed: the Ultimate Survival. The floating city housed 4.5 million people, over half the original population of the ruined city miles below that was now growing back into the lush forest it once was.
A teenaged boy watched his city through a wall that doubled as a window thanks to his wrist controller. The city hummed with activity, sleek light grey monorails moving from one area to another at high speeds. The only lights that could be seen were the light blue ones that ran across the ground of the floating city, lighting the ground paths that were rarely used, and the tunnels used for monorails and footpaths in the higher parts of the city.
He sighed, in remembrance that his kind once walked the ground paths happily in the old city, on the actual earth. Now, they walked through the skies, trying to restore their once ground homes. He himself had once walked the ground paths of the city, but now walked through the higher paths like the rest of his species. He dared not remember the tragedy on the ground paths that scarred him for life. It was too much of a tragedy that made him known, and the cause for the fame was a burden that he carried with him even today at 14 years of age.
He turned away from the window, knowing staring out of it any longer would cause him emotional distress. The room behind him was rather large, most of the decor grey or black or somewhere in between the two colors. He had always loved those colors, but he hadn’t the slightest idea why. Perhaps it was because he loved the shadows in general.
The boy walked slightly tiredly to the bed, peeling off his obsidian jacket, dark grey shirt, and form fitting glow tennis shoes and throwing them askew as his feet dragged across the smooth flooring. He flopped on the bed, taking off his dark grey wrist controller and setting it on a shelf parallel to eye level of the person on the bed. The shelf held some common items that were precious to the boy- his digiclock, his wrist controller charger, a photo of him and his parents when he was younger, and a unicorn doll.
The boy looked up from his flopped position on the bed to stare at the unicorn doll. His friends questioned why he kept the object- after all, it was a small child’s toy. But the doll held sentimental value for the boy, as it was one of his few non-government issued items.
He picked up the unicorn doll as he got to a somewhat upright position on his bed, examining it with careful hands. It was, in other terms, a plushie doll of a unicorn. The soft, dark grey fur was familiar to the boy, as it was when he was younger and believed as such things as unicorns and other fairy tale creatures from the stories of earth. The doll, like the boy, had onyx hair, complimented with a silver felt band for a crown that had two large spikes at the edge, their predecessors slightly smaller, with two curving spikes in the middle of the crown that held a bright red gem. The unicorn was slightly different than most unicorns the boy had seen, for it had a crimson horn that curved and faded into dark grey at the base, just like the coat color. The unicorn had green button eyes, with red stitching in the middle to keep the buttons on the doll. The unicorn also had felt armor, mainly around it’s neck and hooves, with a soft red cloth cape around it’s back, lined with cotton that was flecked with black.
The boy smiled at the unicorn doll, and in his mind the unicorn smiled back.
“Night, Sombra,” The boy said, shifting in his bed to face the window with the unicorn doll he named Sombra safely in his arms. The boy closed his eyes, and drifted to sleep quickly. He always fell asleep quickly.
But as he slept, the doll glowed with a golden aura, a connection to the creature across the galaxy that it was modeled after.
The boy woke up in a strange area, what seemed like a path of stars beneath him while a sky of endless blue surrounded him, giving no indication that there was any other ground besides the one beneath him. He glanced around, trying to see any other life form, but to his dismay he saw no one else. He felt lost in this dream-like place, but felt a strange force pulling him, like he belonged deeper into the oblivion.
Cautiously, he stepped in the direction the force pulled him in, being very wary of the ground made of stars, but soon found the path to be solid to his pleasure and ease of mind. He began to walk in the direction of the force, it getting stronger and stronger with each step, then broke into a run, like something was chasing him. Little did he know, an all-too familiar unicorn was doing the same thing.
Sombra ran as fast as his legs could carry him, fully trusting whatever force was leading him. Perhaps it was destiny for him to be in this dreamscape? He couldn’t be sure, but whatever the force was, it was getting stronger and stronger. As his pace sped up to the maximum speed he could go, it began to pull him, as in physically pulling him to whatever fate awaited him.
The boy flew through the oblivion, now being pulled by a force that was not of his own knowledge. The gaining speed granted winds that tore against his face, much like what it was like outside the high altitude protected paths that went throughout the city. Tears streamed from his eyes involuntarily, and he felt the skin on his face being pulled back from the force.
“OH GODS, MAKE IT STOP!” The boy and Sombra screamed simultaneously, their voices ringing in each other’s ears.
The boy and Sombra were jerked back suddenly to keep from colliding into each other on impact, which would have been quite a gory mess, calling out sharply upon the force stopping their 200 mph speed. They dropped to the floor, and let out horrible groans of pain. The boy rubbed his head, which had collided with the floor but somehow not bleeding, it throbbing in a dull pain. Sombra clutched his ribcage, positive he had broken a bone or five, despite none of them being shattered in reality.
Once they regained themselves, their pain subduing, they noticed each other, but did not scream, more intrigued with each other than fearful. The boy studied Sombra with an intense curiosity, the latter doing the same to the former. They each carefully got up, their eyes not coming off one another for even a moment.
“Who are you?” The boy asked, his voice never wavering for a second despite his slight fear in the creature.
“Sombra,” Sombra said simply. “Who are you?”
“Xander. Why do you look like the unicorn version of me?”
“Why do you look like the human version of me?”
Xander scoffed lightly. “I’m a Kiro, not a human. Kiros are a bit more advanced than humans, and we’re a few light years away.”
“A Kiro?” Sombra questioned. “Strange name for a race that looks like humans.”
Xander shrugged. “I’m not a scientist, so I can’t really explain it. I’m more of an artist, myself.”
“An artist? Interesting occupation,” Sombra said, his interest piqued.
“Not an occupation quite yet, but I’m hoping it will be,” Xander explained.
Sombra smiled lightly. “You remind me a lot of myself when I was younger.”
“Same,” Xander agreed. “But, with me now, not the younger me, if that even makes any sense.”
“It makes sense,” Sombra assured calmly. “So, ah, getting back on track, what do you draw?”
“Mythological creatures from earth. My parents told me stories about them when I was younger, so I’ve always had a fascination with them. I’m getting good at detailing. Lots of kids at my school think it’s weird for me to draw unicorns and other things like that, but I like it, even if I’m considered homosexual for doing so.”
“Yeah, I was teased a lot when I was in school as well, but for other things, mainly my odd appearance,” Sombra chimed in.
“Well, sometimes I’m bullied for drawing and the fact that my parents…” Xander trailed off, tears forming at the corners of his eyes as he turned away, grief-stricken.
Sombra felt a bit uncomfortable about Xander trailing off, but knew what the boy was going to say with a heavy heart.
“Your parents perished, didn’t they?” Sombra finished.
Xander turned back to face the Unicorn, the tears having filled his eyes and threatened to spill, yet his features were graced with a slight smile.
“... Yeah. They died when I was just a little kid. There was an incident involving some of the ground falling away, and…” Xander didn’t dare continue, tears streaming out of his eyes as he bit his lip.
Sombra’s smile faltered as he turned his head to the ground. “My condolences. I think it’s only fair to tell you I lost my parents at an early age as well. And those who tease you for your parents’ deaths should go to Tartarus.”
Xander chuckled at the unicorn’s last thought and looked up to find Sombra was near tears, trying his best to keep them at bay. Xander’s smile faded at the sight. He wanted so badly to cheer up the Unicorn, but never really got close to another being after his parent’s death. He didn’t know how to comfort the stallion. But there was one way Xander knew how to comfort others: The way his parents comforted him when he was very small.
Xander walked closer to the teary eyed Sombra and wrapped his arms around the Unicorn’s neck, firmly but with a caring tenderness that signaled it to be an awkward hug. Sombra was slightly overtaken with shock at Xander’s sudden action, unknowing of how to react to the situation for a few moments. Then, carefully, he wrapped a foreleg around the boy’s torso, fully accepting the hug.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
“Waugh!” Xander cried, his eyes flying open and sitting up in bed violently. His breathing was instantly heavy, his head swinging back and forth to see the cause of the blaring noise. It was simply his alarm clock, luckily, going bezerk. “Note to self: set alarm to peaceful sound,” he grumbled, slapping the touch-screen clock. It played a cheerful tune in response, as if saying ‘Have a good day! :D!’, while in Xander’s mind it was saying ‘Screw you, I’ll yell as loud as possible to throw you out of your sleep and comfortable bed! :D!’.
Xander groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Whatever that dream was he had last night, he’d talk to a therapist about it ASAP. Something told him it wasn’t just a dream…
Chapter 2
Aether, New Dveri City, 10:04 hours
“What happened after you saw the unicorn?” a therapist asked in a rather disconnected voice, tapping her stylus on the lightpad before her to jot down Xander’s answer to the previous question.
“Well, we talked for a bit, and he was a lot like me,” Xander said, lifting his head only to talk to the therapist. When he was done speaking, he turned his head back to the smooth, white ground, staring at it as if it had any point of interest.
“How was he like you?” she asked, briefly plucking out the only hair on her head that seemed to be out of place. She, like many other adults, had a rather interesting hairstyle: short, angular bangs that stopped right above her eyebrows, her long, black hair pressed into a curving shape in a ponytail, the band’s color pure white, forming a stark outline between her head and her ponytail.
Xander thought about the question a bit before replying, trying to recall the events. “He lost his parents at an early age like me, and he was bullied a lot when he was in school.”
“And from visual clues, how old do you say this unicorn was, implying that he aged in Kiro years.”
“About 24 or so,” Xander guessed with a shrug.
“Exact numbers,” she pressed, not exactly threateningly or harshly, more of in a firm tone.
“24,” Xander said in a definite voice.
“Where did your dream take place again?” she asked, tapping her lightpad.
Tmp tmp tp tp tp tmp tmp. The sound echoed in Xander's ears.
“I don't really know,” Xander admitted. “It was sort of in space, but it was different shades of blue everywhere. The path I was walking on was made of stars for some reason, and there was this… force that made me go towards the unicorn I saw.”
“What kind of force?”
Tp tmp tp tp tp tp tmp tmp tmp.
“Again, I don't know,” Xander said. “It was just… pulling me towards the unicorn, like fate or something like that.”
“Invalid. Logic states that Fate is a made-up idea, unsupported by the Empire.”
Tmp tp tmp tp tp tp.
“Screw logic,” Xander hissed under his breath, annoyed at the constant tapping of the therapist's stylus against the screen.
“Would you like a repercussion for that statement?” Apparently the therapist heard him.
Go ahead, see what I care. “No, miss,” his voice contradicted his subconscious.
“Explain the force in terms of Science and Logic.”
“It was a dream, you can’t explain dreams!” Xander practically screamed out of rage. Realizing his actions, he slumped back into his chair with a huff. He had snapped again. He noticed himself snapping a lot more than usual lately. The nurse he went to see once told him it was completely natural, but something told him otherwise.
“Correction- our technology can explain dreams,” the therapist replied unnaturally calmly. “If you would like to show me your dream, perhaps we can explain it a bit better.”
Xander gave a sigh. “That wasn't a suggestion, was it?”
“Not particularly,” the therapist said, a rare moment where she was an actual person instead of a supercomputer sorting thoughts and feelings with Science and Logic. “You have been in a therapist’s office before about your dreams, so you know the drill.”
Xander nodded, picking up the white, stringy, plastic headgear on the table and placed it on his head, the sensors attaching to important sectors of his brain, feeling quite sticky. He took a deep breath and relaxed, focusing on the dream and his thoughts. He remembered the force pulling him, the beautiful and entrancing scenery he whizzed by, the unicorn that knew his feelings as if they were his own. It was over quite quickly, and something that threw Xander off. The original dream was so much longer than the actual memory. Then again, it could have just been his perception of time.
The therapist studied the dream intently, and reported back to Xander as soon as it was over. “This sort of dream is common- nothing to report for the most part, at least.”
“The most part?” Xander questioned.
“We have seen this case before in many cases, but very few are as strong as that, where someone physically interacts in their dream and feels the consequences of their actions in their dreams, especially with a creature. Some have brief flashes of certain creatures or people in their dreams, which is normal overall. The thing about cases like yours, however, with physically interacting with that creature, is that the creatures in dreams and nightmares can be dangerous, even deadly at times. There’s a boy in the hospital right now who has flashes of an animatronic fox as we speak, in fact.”
“It’s that dangerous? That someone has to go to the hospital for that?”
“Yes. The boy’s connections with it have been getting stronger, causing him to let out metallic yet child-like screams and lash out at others like a wild animal. We're studying the effects of having a dangerous creature like that linked into a person’s brain, and we've come up with a name for it: The SoulSharer Effect.”
“I'm guessing that’s what I have,” Xander assumed.
“A minor case, but yes, the SoulSharer Effect is in place.”
Xander bit his lip. SoulSharer. The name sounded oddly familiar.
“If you'd like, we can study the effects just like the other boy,” the therapist offered. “You'd go in once a week, and we'd put you in a simulation and give you full access to explore with the creature that appears with you.”
Xander was silent as the therapist handed him a slip for the location and time to go to the hospital, taking it forcefully but careful as to not crinkle the paper.
“Think about it,” she said, a small chime playing, the signal for the end of the session. As the entire therapy system was run by a supercomputer, it wasn't uncommon for the sessions to be exactly on time, even by the millisecond.
Getting up from his chair, Xander stuffed the note in his windbreaker pocket, enjoying the feel of the inside of the jacket, which was lined with faux but incredibly soft fur. It was rumored that once jackets and coats used to be lined with fur from the softest of creatures from the world below, but ever since the Ultimate Survival, they used factory produced furs. He tapped a spot on the wall and the door opened, allowing a chance for Xander to escape into the real world. The sterile office behind him dissipated, including the therapist, all of it merely a hologram created by the supercomputer to create an analytical environment within the supercomputer itself.
As Xander stepped out into the daylight, he felt sunshine on his face and the cool breeze slipping in the forcefield that protected the buildings and other structures from blowing away tossing his hair gently, merely a fraction of it’s original might. The therapist office was near a park, the same park that Xander occasionally visited, to observe others from the shadows. There was something more intriguing to him about watching actual people and not actors on screens, or cartoon characters from time to time. They showed pure, real emotions, going about their everyday lives as if they had been doing this for centuries. Since it was a relaxation day, Xander strolled down the pathway to the park, deciding to take up his favorite pastime while he waited for the few friends that he had.
Walking was another favorite pastime of Xander’s, as he would find himself walking whenever he felt distraught or angry. It cleared his mind and allowed him to focus on little things, like scheduling and his own little fantasies. It was rare by itself for Xander to go off into fantasies beyond what others could even comprehend, but when he did, it was a moment in time of pure bliss. No one around him hounding him about how he was doing after his parent’s death, no one making fun of him for liking children’s stories, no one to bother him or reach him.
His fantasy took him to a world where factories ruled, every living being, young and old, manning the machines in full body suits made from lab coat materials, and he was the manager of it all. He himself wore a flowing black labcoat with red trim, looking over the factories with a sly smile on his face. A unicorn stood beside him, Sombra, but with a malicious look in his digital eyes, a smile upon his muzzle that was one of deliciously evil intent. The workers below were grimy and sleep deprived, many of them having ribs that poked through their lab coats. They scowled at Xander, but Xander merely smiled back in turn, holding his hands together behind his back. They were strong, chosen to man these factories so the world could live on with a price. Or, at least, that’s what he told them. They were actually the last humans on Earth, as a new species, the same species Xander secretly was, had taken control, the Kiros.
He saw one of the workers collapse on her site, the young girl breathing heavily. Sombra sent a health agent to go out to retrieve her tired and broken body back to the Infirmary to preserve the work force’s pace. Although it was a rather slow process, the factory was making the essentials for Kiro life on Earth, without the humans knowing. It would be a cruel fate for the last of their kind to work in factories until the end of their days, so once the children snapped they would become Kiros. No one could say what would happen to the adults, but somewhere inside Xander’s cold heart he wished that they would all live to become Kiros.
A loud scream jolted Xander out of his thoughts and into the real world much to his displeasure. He quickly turned and saw that he was right on the tracks of a hovertrain, both paths that gave him a chance to reach safety blocked off by lightweight walls that were impenetrable, the same thing that surrounded the city that sometimes slipped and allowed breezes. His eyes widened in fear as he realized that the hovertrain riding the tracks was headed right towards him, and there was no way for it to slam on the brakes in time, if they even made breaks for occasions like this anymore. How had he been so foolish, not even hearing the loud jingles that played whenever the walls were about to go up to protect bystanders from being hit by the train? The jingle itself was ironic in this situation, but he had no time to laugh. He could either flee and die later, or stay in one place and die quicker. The former sounded like the better option.
Xander took off in the opposite direction of the train, zooming down the tracks. He was much faster than other Kiros, the species’ top speed hitting around 24 mph, while his top speed was around 34 mph. Still, it wasn't fast enough to outrun the hovertrain, going at speeds reaching 300 mph on a good day. To his dismay, it was a good day, the winds being exceptionally calm as to not provide any friction to slow down the train and extend the time Xander had to live. His shoes pounded on the tracks, metallic echoes bouncing off the walls as his feet hit the track, his hearts racing as fast as possible to provide blood flow to his legs to let him go faster. Adrenaline rushed into his system, making Xander’s senses heighten, nearly activating the 6th sense that Kiros had, but only few times were activated, mainly under emotional distress. He had no idea how to use it himself, but hopefully if it did activate now, it would save his skin.
The train sped around the bend and headed straight for Xander just as he rounded the bend to go into the square of the city. His arms pumped at his sides as lights, sounds, and smells filled his view of reality, blocking his 6th sense from activating fully. Of all the places the track lead into, it had to be the square. Now everyone would see him as he would be smeared against the walls of the track in a gory display. The survivor of a ground fallout incident dying via hover train. Not the most dignifying way to go, truth be told.
As he rounded the next corner he felt the train approaching at high speeds, making the track rattle slightly with it’s speed. Xander made the mistake of looking behind him, and found the train quickly approaching, with nothing he could do to stop it.
Oh, cra-
The train was about to hit Xander when a hand quickly pulled him out of the tube, the train nearly knocking off one of Xander’s shoes instead. Xander hit the metal ground with a ‘thud’, his vision instantly blurred by his head being whacked against the ground. He was barely able to make out his saviour before being pulled away out of the square by the same person, a loud, muffled voice calling out something about “turkey fries”. Or were they talking about “crossed eyes”...? Xander hadn’t the faintest clue. All he knew was that his head was pounding and he felt like curling up into a ball to block out everything around him.
After a few minutes darkness covered Xander’s vision, along with long, caramel-colored hair that fell over his eyes, mainly the latter that prevented him to see. Xander weakly batted at the hair like a kitten to a red dot from a laser pointer to get it out of his eyes, which was followed by a musical reply.
“Heh, yer so cute when yer all delusional!” a high yet hearty female voice said in a human southern accent. “Come on, get up, ya suicidal little maniac.”
Xander was pulled up by a pair of strong arms that could have easily been mistaken for a guy’s, if it were not for the slender frame encasing such power. Xander struggled to keep his balance with his head still throbbing, but luckily the other figure helped him to retain his balance with steady hands. Xander’s vision finally adjusted to the shadows that surrounded him and was met with a 14-year old girl before him just settling into puberty in a light orange-ish peach-ish tank top slightly with dark blue jeans and brown factory-made leather boots. A brown stetson rested upon a head of caramel colored hair streaked with blonde that went down to the girl’s shoulders, gentle waves perfectly accenting a bright face, eyes slightly bigger than the regular Kiro’s proportions, a large smile always gracing her lips. Her light tan skin seemed to glow with a happy energy constantly, and especially when she was excited. Her hands were covered with dark blue fingerless gloves, mainly to protect her hands while she worked in the produce department with her family.
“So, ya decided to end it all n’ walk through the tracks? Shoot, I reckon that’s the 3rd time this week alone you got yerself in a sticky situation,” she commented, rubbing the back of her neck.
“Trust me, I didn’t do that purpose,” Xander defended, putting his hands up to prove his truth in the situation.
“Yep, like the time ya got yerself stuck on the flagpole when you weren’t looking?” she offered an example of his irresponsible lack of awareness for his surroundings.
“Exactly,” Xander agreed, snapping his fingers and pointing at his friend. “And have I told you yet how happy I am that I have a friend like you?”
“Only a million times darlin’,” she recalled. “Every other time I save yer hide ya always tell me.”
“Because it’s true!” Xander said, putting his arm around his friend as he walked them both out of the alleyway with newfound strength. “If I didn’t have you, I would have died about seven years ago and over a million times.”
“Only a million, darlin’,” his friend corrected him.
“Brae, for the sake of time and the fact that I’m too tired to argue with you at the moment, let’s just leave it at that,” Xander decided.
“And because ya know I’d win,” Brae said smugly.
“You have the strength of three grown men combined, I don’t even dare to argue with you anymore because of your sheer strength.”
“You sayin’ mah logic isn’t sound?” Brae questioned daringly, taking Xander’s arm off of her shoulders.
“No, it’s just that your strength is intimidating enough,” Xander quieted his voice at the last part, realizing he had let his snarky attitude take control of his voice.
“You wanna see intimidating? Ask mah cousin Mac. He’ll tell you who’s intimidatin’,” Brae growled, though her overall perky attitude made it sound like a playful pout.
“Let’s just change the subject,” Xander said, trying his best to keep his snarkiness contained. “So, where’s Fallout and Lore? The park?”
“You bet,” Brae replied, back to her happy-go-lucky self, her eyes lit up once again with that childlike happiness and innocence that very few had these days. “Though Fallout kinda was gettin’ tired of waitin’ after fifteen minutes and sent me out ta getcha. You know how he’s a bit impatient. Actually, come ta think of it, it’s a good thing that he sent me out fer ya. If I hadn’t you’d be smeared right up against the inner walls of the hovertrain tracks! Now that woulda been a shame. Yer such a good guy. And I'm sure that ya don't want t' die now, when ya have so much t' look forwards to.”
“Rambling again,” Xander calmly reminded her, knowing Brae could go off for hours on end while speaking, having experienced that first-hand. When her mouth was moving and she had something to talk about, Xander, Fallout, and Lore called her the Brae Channel- all Brae, all the time.
“Right. Sorry ‘bout that, darlin’. You know how I go off like that from time t’ time.”
“Last week you talked for an hour straight on the history of apples in our history class which was forty-five minutes long.”
“Okay, okay, fairly often,” Brae corrected herself. “But still- why in th’ name of Pandora were ya tryin’ ta get yerself killed this time?”
Xander gave a heavy sigh, knowing that even if he didn’t want to give away the true meaning of his near-death experience the answer would be pried out of him, both verbally and physically. He gave a shudder at the latter of the options before responding, “I was caught up in a fantasy on my way back from the therapist’s office.”
Brae’s eyes went wide with concern at the mere mention of a therapist. “Darlin’, are you alright? Ya know that we’re here fer ya t’ help ya with yer problems,” her voice softened as they approached the entrance of the park, the two white spiraling pillars resembling the flowers that grew in that region, synthias, which had petals that spiraled to the sun before blooming for a short period of time.
“Sorry, Brae. It’s not that I don’t trust you, I do! And the others too. It’s just that, my dream, it had something that I’ve never experienced before. The therapist I saw identified it as SoulSharing, and-”
Brae’s hand clamped his mouth shut abruptly, her other hand leading him out of public eye to an old gazebo in a deeper part of the park many had not known existed. She led him through branches and brambles, trying to keep them both hidden. Xander hadn’t known how to react to Brae’s sudden actions, but simply let her lead him, as she was older than him (a fact that he truly never had gotten used to) and probably knew what was best. After a bit of stumbling blindly through the park’s forest, the duo came across a large clearing with a beautiful white gazebo made of the same material that the pillars was standing in the middle of it, two teenagers lounging about under it’s pristine white roof.
Brae made the effort to remove her hand before whirling around to face him, a truly furious expression upon her face. “What in Chi’ar were ya thinkin’ Xander?!”
“Whoa, Brae, back up!” one of the teenagers appeared out of nowhere next to the duo, his well-built but not stocky frame easily distinguishable, as well as his signature minty green hair streaked with white brushed over his right eye. He had tan skin that was a bit paler than Brae’s, with a dark green t-shirt on and minty blue shorts on, a necklace with a lyre pendant hanging around his neck. His golden eyes were full of hidden meanings, and at the moment they showed of utmost concern for Brae yelling at Xander.
“He went n’ said out loud that he was a SoulSharer!” Brae yelled. “D’ya know how much danger ya jest put all of us in?!”
“Whoa, a SoulSharer?” the teen asked, looking at Xander incredulously. “Wait, you said that in public?”
“I didn’t know it was that much of a deal,” Xander replied, putting his hands up in defense.
Brae let out a loud groan, face-palming. “‘Course not. Xander, SoulSharin’ is a thing that the government cannot get their hands on. It’s powerful and can be used either way- good or bad. SoulSharers make up a good part of the population, whether they’ll admit it or not. Those of us with any sense keep it hidden, t’ make sure that we’re not used like puppets by th’ government.” By the end of her statement, her voice had cracked multiple times, a rare moment of weakness.
“That’s pretty deep,” the teen breathed.
“What, ya think a country girl can’t be smart in what she says, Lore?” Brae questioned.
“You know a lot on the subject, Brae,” Xander commented.
“I’ve experienced it first-hand, Xander,” Brae’s voice softened. “Mah cousin AJ kept seeing a pony in her dreams an’ she developed physical traits for because of it. They took ‘er away, and we never saw her again. I don’t want the same t’ happen to you, Xander. Yer too good of a friend who's been through too much fer me to lose ya.”
Xander was quite shocked to see Brae in such a state. Normally, she was the toughest one out of the four of them, but hearing her talk about AJ as she did made him quite nervous. If she was upset, the rest of them were set on edge. SoulSharing was that big of a deal? That not only a boy was put in the hospital for it, but everyone was in danger by him merely being one? The thought of his friends, the only real people that he considered family, being taken away and tortured was sickening to him. And if SoulSharing was really that dangerous…
“Okay, let’s not overreact here,” Lore decided, putting a hand on Xander’s chest and Brae’s collarbone to calm them down, acting as the anchor to keep them both from going a-wol. “Xander, let’s assess for ourselves if this is dangerous, and not jump to conclusions, Brae.”
Brae shot Lore a look that could kill before sighing and submitting to his idea. “Yer right. ‘M sorry for overreactin’, Xander,” she said sheepishly, not one to apologize often. “Ah just don’t want ya t’ get taken away ‘cause yer a SoulSharer.”
“It’s okay, I just didn’t know that it meant so much to you,” Xander admitted, rubbing his arm. “Had I known-”
“Ya wouldn’t have known, plain and simple,” Brae said, cutting him off. “It’s a carefully kept family secret, and even though y’all are like family, I wouldn’t have toldja.”
“Alright, everything is settled now, right?” Lore asked, confirming the two had made up after their brief feud.
“Yeah,” they answered in unison.
“Great. Come on, let’s let Xander tell us what happened, and how we can help him,” Lore decided, leading the two to the Gazebo by their hands like a father gently tugging his children along, which may as well have been the case, considering he was a solid few inches taller than ever member of the group.
Xander gave a small sigh at the coming events. Explaining what happened wouldn’t be easy, even though it had to be done.
???, ??? ??? hours
“He’s discovered it,” a low, raspy voice commented.
“Of course he has; he’s a smart boy, mind you,” a higher voice replied to the first voice.
“I know that, but it’s rather surprising that he didn’t discover it sooner.”
“I’m happily surprised that he didn’t discover it later,” a third voice chimed in cheerily. “If he waited any longer to find it, then it may not have activated!”
“Speaking of it, how is it doing?” a fourth asked.
“Quite well, though at the moment it is dependant on the boy to make the next move,” the fifth said in an English accent smoothly.
“Well, isn’t he the special little snowflake!” the third voice giggled with the slightest hints of malice.
“Indeed so. Speaking of which, how is his connection doing?” the first voice asked.
“The unicorn? Still sleeping, stuck in the dreamworld,” the fifth voice said.
“You really had to keep him blinded? There’s so much potential for both of them if we just moved forwards at a quicker pace-” the second voice whined.
“You know as well as I that these things take time, and we have plenty of it before it requires action,” the first voice said.
“Perhaps not,” the fifth voice replied doubtfully. “It is awakening fully, though still dependent on the boy.”
“Already?” the fourth voice asked. “How peculiar. My calculations predicted it to have awoken much, much later…”
“Whatever it has decided to do, I suppose we must conform to it’s plans,” the first voice decided. “But if it’s still dependent on the boy, our plans can still be in place without changes.”
“Ugh, enough yakkity-yak, more action!” the third voice groaned and whined at the same time, like a child deprived of it’s candy.
“Silence,” the first voice hissed, causing the third voice to fall into an eerie quiet. “Now, we must proceed as we had planned, but lighter now. We cannot let the boy stray from his intended path, or the unicorn.”
“So, what do we do?” the second voice pondered upon the first voice’s plans.
“Go forth with caution,” the first voice replied. “Whatever you throw at the boy and his little friends, keep them preserved. They are important players in this little game of chess, whether they like it or not. Now, open Door 4. We need to test them before they activate it, to make sure they are worthy."
