Where the Soul Sleeps

I remained crouched behind the edge of the fountain for several minutes. Every so often, I peeked out to check whether the Beast had moved, but it was still there, its head submerged in the greenish water. With no clear plan, I decided the best course of action was to take advantage of its distraction. I scanned the ground for anything useful and found a shard of broken tile. I picked it up carefully, stood, and—making sure it wouldn’t see me—hurled the fragment toward the far end of the fountain before ducking down again.

The impact echoed through the absolute silence. The Beast reacted immediately, lifting its head and turning toward the noise. It had its back to me. This was my chance. I climbed onto the edge of the fountain and ran toward it. When I was less than a meter away, I leapt with my arms outstretched, trying to place my hands on its face.

The creature’s tentacles flailed violently, flinging drops of its viscous fluid onto my skin. The contact sent a sharp, burning pain across my face, as if searing coals had embedded themselves in my flesh. I clutched my face and fell into the polluted water of the fountain.

The Beast jumped back. When I managed to stand, it was staring at me with that gaping black void where a face should have been. It let out a deep, guttural roar—an amalgam of distant, agonized screams. Its tentacles wrapped around my torso and began lifting me, squeezing tighter and tighter. Its fetid breath engulfed me as it drew me closer to that abyss of jagged teeth that seemed to spiral endlessly into its core.

With my last breath, I managed to free one arm. I stretched it toward the creature’s maw and placed my hand above it. Then I whispered the prayer Raphaelius had taught me. A blinding light burst from my palm. The Beast screamed in pain, and in the blink of an eye, my consciousness was yanked into another realm.

Everything was dark. I stood in shallow water that stretched as far as the eye could see. There was no trace of the fountain or the city. I was inside the Beast’s mind—a place empty, hostile, and silent. Somewhere in the depths of this broken consciousness, the boy’s soul lay dormant.

I joined my hands and recited the Awakening Prayer. Each word carried purpose, calling out to ignite the fire buried within the spirit hiding somewhere in this plane.

But nothing happened.

I repeated the prayer. Then I felt an invisible force yank me back. In an instant, I was returned to reality. The creature had released me, and my hand no longer touched its head. I staggered to my feet, only to be struck again by its flailing tentacles. I was hurled back, crashing into the fountain’s edge.

Dazed, I stood once more. The Beast roared, maddened. I lunged at it again, aiming for its head. Its tentacles caught my legs and one of my arms, but I managed to press my free hand against its face. I whispered the prayer again and was pulled once more into its mind.

Darkness. Water. Silence.

I clasped my hands immediately and recited the Awakening Prayer again. Still nothing. Again, I was cast out. This time, the Beast seized me with renewed fury. It flung me far from the fountain and, as it dragged me back by a tentacle coiled around my ankle, it raised one of its front limbs—revealing pitch-black claws as sharp as blades.

I struggled, but my hands burned at the touch of its slime. Panic consumed me. Just before it struck, I managed to untie my bootlace and freed my leg. I dashed away with every ounce of strength I had, as the creature landed where I’d just been, its claws carving a crater into the stone.

I kept running, not daring to look back, but I could hear the Beast’s footsteps pounding behind me. I slipped through the gate and into a narrow alley between buildings. I couldn’t outrun it. No matter how fast I moved, it was always close behind. But then, as I rounded a corner, I saw an open window. I sprinted toward it and leapt through just before the creature could spot me.

Inside the house, I ducked beneath the window, doing my best not to make a sound. I heard the Beast reach the same corner I had turned. It slowed, seemingly confused, and began inspecting the surroundings. It passed in front of the window with a terrifying stillness. I covered my mouth to stifle my rapid breathing. I could feel its rotten breath drifting through the gap, and it seemed that at any moment it might thrust its head through and catch me. The silence was so absolute that it felt like my own heartbeat might betray me—and I wouldn’t have been surprised, because it was hammering inside my chest, ready to burst.

One of its tentacles slipped through the window, brushing dangerously close to my head. I dropped to the floor to avoid it. I watched as the slimy appendage dragged itself across the wall and floor near the window. I crawled away cautiously, staying just out of reach, and when it failed to find anything, the beast retracted its tentacle and resumed its path. I saw it slowly fade into the ruins of the city. Only then did I exhale a long, trembling breath, finally able to catch my air again.

With the danger out of sight, I turned my thoughts toward strategy. I had managed to enter the Beast’s mind for only a few seconds, but no matter how many times I recited the Awakening Prayer, nothing happened. I went over Raphaelius’s words in my head. He had explained that the boy’s soul was hiding somewhere deep within that mental plane, but searching for it blindly would be futile—especially since the creature expelled me so quickly each time.

The prayer was supposed to guide me to him. My words were meant to travel through that dark dimension and resonate wherever his spirit lay dormant, igniting a flame that would lead me to him. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t awaken anything.

That’s when I remembered something I had overlooked.

I was speaking the prayer aloud. And though the verses held power, a prayer only reaches its full strength when spoken with the voice of the soul. The same voice I had used to communicate with Raphaelius beneath the sea. But like my wings, that voice had been dormant for centuries—dimmed, weakened. Nowhere near the resonance of angels like him. And yet… all of them had failed.

Still, there was something that sparked hope within me. Raphaelius had said that my soul possessed a unique quality: a resonance that harmonized with the boy’s spirit. Perhaps that connection was the key. After all, I hadn’t been chosen at random. I had to trust the judgment of the Elder Angel.

I climbed to the rooftop, and since the houses were built side by side, I was able to move from one to the next without much trouble. In this way, I crossed the city, following the stench of the creature and the path of devastation it left behind.

After a while, I heard heavy footsteps directly below me. I peeked over the edge and saw it, lumbering through the narrow alleys. It still hadn’t noticed me. I waited patiently, letting it draw closer. The creature advanced slowly, digging its claws into the stone tiles, trailing a smoking line of acid wherever it walked.

When it was finally right beneath me, I took a few steps back, gathered momentum, and leapt into the air. The Beast looked up just in time to see me descending upon it, unleashing another one of its hellish howls. I extended my arms toward its head as its tentacles sprang up in a desperate attempt to catch me. They managed to wrap around most of my body, but my hands reached its skull. I spoke the prayer, and the world was swallowed in blinding light... only to plunge me once more into the shadows.

Once again, I was inside its mind.