Interlopers From Beyond the Veil

“...WAKE UP!” a voice echoed urgently. “Wake up…! Wake up, Sirius!” Like all of the blood was rushing to his head, Sirius jolted before his eyelids shot open to the sound of a familiar voice. Just as he sat up, Aisling pulled the folds of the tent open, informing him, “Are you okay? They’re here!”

Asking no questions, the Bishop scurried to his feet and gauged his dark surroundings as much as the helpful light of the full moon allowed.

“W-What are they?” she asked, her voice shaking as she took cover behind him.

“Soul feeders,” Sirius whispered as he saw Lucien swiftly cut through a line of dark beings with a golden light infused into his sword. His gaze quickly scanned for openings in the swarming entities, but noticed they were intruding from all sides. He gripped Aisling by her wrist, and stoically ordered, “With me.” They hurried to the lone Knight fending against the dark swarm.

“Get back!” Lucien spat, cutting through another wave of soul feeders. He held his left forearm in front of him vertically, where a burgundy kite shield expanded from his bracer. Before he could deflect the mob that was getting ready to lunge at him, a purple bolt of lightning surged directly through each of them.

Their shadowy essence faded away, as Sirius joined his friend. “I’m here!” The purple aura around his floating tome dissipated. “You okay?”

“No!” he snapped. “They just appeared out of nowhere.” He then drove his blade into a soul feeder that had its claws extended, and shouted, “Ljóss Ray!” which emitted streaks of light through it. Simultaneously, it took out the encroaching horde behind it.

Sirius briefly closed his eyes to concentrate on the mana distribution, and then concluded, “I’m sensing them all over the King’s Path, maybe even beyond that.”

“What the hell!” roared Lucien after he cast a bright yellow crescent. “I thought our spells weren’t enough to attract them.”

“The last crusade changed a lot, you know.” Sirius cast more bolts of purple lightning that also drove the soul feeders back. “But I expected this on the mainland, not here.” Lightning crackled through the area as Sirius swept his hand outward. Arcs of violet energy burst from his palm and drove through the dark swarm.

Each strike illuminated the trees and the shattered pillars around them in strobe flashes, revealing gaunt silhouettes scattered around. The moon hung high above, its cold light spilling through the canopy to cast clarity across the ruins.

Yet even when the shadows swallowed the light, Sirius and Lucien needed no sight to find their foes. They could feel the tainted mana pulsing through the air, each foul presence as distinct as a heartbeat in the dark.

Aisling remained close behind the Bishop, her breath quick and uneven.

While keeping one arm slightly extended in her direction, Sirius’s amber-colored magic ward flickered and hummed between them whenever a soul feeder strayed too close.

The barrier distorted each time it met claw or shadow, a silent promise that nothing would reach her while he stood.

The air sizzled with mana as Sirius pivoted to his left. He conjured a fiery barrier of reddish-orange hues that incinerated a soul feeder mid-lunge. Its ashen remains scattered through the moonlight like embers.

Some distance away, Lucien charged into the thick of the swarm, his blade glowing with radiant gold. He cleaved through the shadowed figures in sweeping arcs. Every swing left a lingering trail of light that seared through the gloom before vanishing like a fading star.

The forest echoed with the clash of magic and steel—Lucien’s blade humming as it met claw and darkness, Sirius’s spells detonating in violet bursts that shook the ancient stones underfoot.

The two moved with practiced precision, their rhythm robust yet flawless: lightning to pierce and drive them back, and light to cut and burn through them.

Each kill scattered the soul feeders into drifting ash, yet more poured from the tree line and the ruins alike. Their wretched forms emerged from the shadows of the Primorigial Sanctuary.

Sirius soon noticed a thinner grouping of soul feeders beginning to make their approach. He directed Lucien to cover him while he conjured a more powerful spell that would fracture their onslaught over a great distance.

“You got it!” he replied, rushing forward to hack and slash at the oncoming swarm.

In the midst of the horror, Aisling felt immobile when she caught a glimpse of the soul feeders for the first time.

They were living shadows out to kill.

Like vengeful spirits, walking nightmares, and restless interlopers whose objective to steal the mana from living creatures sent chills down her spine. Aisling clutched the fabrics of the cloaks together and shut her eyes. Her body trembled, dreading the moment their hollow gazes would fall upon her, as if even a glance could unravel her very soul. But then, she heard something that eased the tension that had sent her mind spiraling into chaos.

“Ydaets flesruoy, Aisling,” Sirius muttered, his eyes closed in order to concentrate on a spell.

She glanced up at him, his voice seemingly quieting the surrounding turmoil and slowing the flow of time.

“Ehtaerb. Tel eht raef ssap hguorht uoy. Tel ti wolf yllarutan ekil a rev⁠ir–t’nod tsiser eht tnerruc.”

Aisling’s hammering heart soothed upon hearing his gentle instruction, and she finally exhaled with relief.

“It’ll be okay,” Sirius added, smiling in her direction. He abruptly shifted his focus to the spell he was formulating. His tome had its pages flipped halfway through and was glowing an emerald green. “We’ve dealt with the likes of them before.”

Aisling listened, locking her attention on the young man beside her—eyes gleaming with hope and resolve that words couldn’t describe. She felt safe.

Sirius lifted his left hand, which also glowed green when he shouted, “Hurricane Azhdaha!”

This air spell released a serpentine whirlwind of viridescent streaks that encircled the area around the caster. It only impacted the intended targets. So while it thoroughly whisked the soul feeders, the trees, and the ruins away, Sirius’s companions only experienced a draft of wind. It covered a great distance for a set time, swiftly relieving the trio of the horde.

The Bishop dropped to one knee and wiped his brow, panting from the exponential release of mana. Aisling placed one hand on his chest and another on his back to keep him balanced, as Lucien retracted the shield into his bracer to join his friend.

“You okay, man?” he asked, retrieving a mana potion from his utility belt.

“Damn,” Sirius gasped, accepting the vial, “it’s definitely been a while. My body’s aching all over.”

“Just lie down and let the potion do its thing, I’m gonna scan the area.”

Sirius nodded, advising Lucien not to wander too far, as he proceeded to lay down. But while he expected to meet the cold platform, his head met a soft, warm embrace that felt like home—or at least the home he knew before his exile. And Sirius jolted a split second after realizing Aisling’s lap had replaced the hardened ground.

“I…” she uttered, blushing and glancing off to the side. “U-Uoy t’nod evah ot eil no eht dnuorg ekil taht… os esaelp, tsuj rof won ta tsael, esu ym pal.”

The Bishop was speechless, his face feeling hotter than the moment after he cast the spell. “K-Knaht uoy,” he replied softly.

When the soul feeders were scattered from Sirius’s spell, it wiped most of them out, but there were still some able to rejoin the fight. However, just as they were recuperating, they suddenly seized in place, frozen and slowly being enveloped in ice crystals.

Panting, a young woman wearing a dark dirndl uniform and peaked cap walked amidst the horde. Her silky blue hair hung down to her waist under a black transparent veil. She sheathed her long sword, and stepped through a rift in space with the soul feeders in tow.

Lucien surveyed the area, his sword still unsheathed. He had picked up notes of the tainted mana, but they suddenly receded. “What the…” he gasped, unable to detect the soul feeders’ presence anymore. “I could’ve sworn they were around here.” For some moments, he continued scouting, but the trail had vanished without a trace. “Hmph,” he grunted. “Alright then.” He made his way back and caught a glimpse of his companions.

Aisling was covering her face with both hands, embarrassed, and Sirius appeared relaxed, like he’d just gone to sleep on her lap.

Lucien smirked. “Now that’s a little piece of heaven,” he murmured.

Sirius felt a rush of mana nearby that he hadn’t felt before, and opened his eyes, gasping, “What was that?”

“What?” Aisling asked.

He scratched his head, grunting, “I don’t know. Must’ve been an aftereffect.”

“How are you feeling now?”

“A little better,” he replied, sitting up before confessing: “You know, truthfully, the last time I rested on a girl’s lap—” Sirius paused, and clenched his jaw as he avoided eye contact, and shook his head. “Nevermind,” he remarked, then slowly proceeded to stand up.

Aisling made sure to stand up first to ensure he was steady.

“Thanks,” he acknowledged. “How are you holding up?”

“Oh, I’m…” She paused. “I’m doing okay, I think. Actually… I’m doing better after what you said earlier.”

Sirius nodded, then spoke slowly. “Unfortunately, you’re gonna have to get used to seeing those soul feeders. They’re all over the place these days.”

Aisling pursed her lips and felt a shudder down her spine.

“Anyway, thanks again for what you did, Aisling. Let’s go check with Lucien.”

The Knight reported that the soul feeders were eradicated from the area. He also noted the sudden withdrawal.

Sirius nodded, adding that he also didn’t detect any more of them.

“It’s strange, but how are you now?” he asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You took the backlash pretty hard.”

“Much better with the potion, thanks,” he replied, then read his timepiece. “You can go ahead and get some rest, Lucien. I’ll take watch for the rest of the night.”

Lucien raised his eyebrows, pointing out, “No way, bro, you just collapsed. I’ll cover your shift.”

“Well—” He flinched from a sudden pinch in the upper portion of his back—an old wound that persisted in his weakened state.

Aisling and Lucien placed both hands on him to help him remain steady.

“It’s around that time of year again, isn’t it?” Lucien recalled.

Sirius exhaled, “Damn. You’re right about that.”

“Yeah, just go lay down, Sirius. Please.”

The Bishop relented, “Okay. But I’m not exactly feeling tired right now.”

Lucien placed an arm over his shoulder, tugging him a few steps away from Aisling and whispering, “Maybe if you laid on her lap again you will.”

Sirius blinked, heat rushing to his face. “You saw that?” he hissed under his breath.

“Hard not to,” Lucien muttered with a half-grin.

Sirius groaned quietly, rubbing his temples.

Aisling continued to stand some distance away from them, clutching the edges of her cloak as she watched the two men. She fidgeted her fingers, unsure if she should laugh or cry at how absurdly calm Sirius and Lucien seemed after what had just happened. The thought drew a shaky breath from her lips, then, unexpectedly, a small laugh. For all the strangeness of the night, for all the fear that still lingered in her chest, she realized things were still going to be okay.