Skye

There were eyes in the darkness. Chills crawled on little Skye's back. Her hairs stood on end as if waiting for the threat to come out, ready to jump back like a kitten in fright. Suddenly, a bark came out. It seemed like a cute dog's absurd threat, but it came from above and it shook the leaves of the whole forest.

The shaking of the atmosphere set Skye in a panic. She started to run in the opposite direction, barely seeing the trees in her way under the dim light of a half moon. Her steps were muffled by the trembling leaves and the barks that stimulated her adrenaline, but they were constant and her whole body was strained by the quick spring.

A louder bark resounded from behind and distracted her, preventing her from noticing a rock in the way. All that she felt was a pull on her right foot and the sense of being flying. Her head hit a cedar's trunk five meters ahead. Blood trickled down her forehead and pooled under her right cheek as her body lay unmoving on the ground.

Trufnir's loincloth jumped revealingly as he ran, as well as his long hair and beard, which covered his face, his shoulders and a part of his chest. Sweating, he jogged in an unsteady rhythm. The fiery brute had come for him even though he had returned the soul that he had taken. The beast's tiny barks reverberated across the moonlit forest, sharing sound space with Trufnir's gasps as he ran.

No, no, no, no, no

His mind was blocked in denial. The terrifying creature's barks had set him in a fleeing trance. The head of his staff had the shape of a snake winding around a crystal sphere that now shone in brilliant green, lighting up the way and emanating a soul field around the forest, which made the surroundings scarier for others, but easier to traverse for Trufnir.

Suddenly, after a loud bark, Trufnir felt a vibration in the air, a soul's goodbye to this plane as it tried to dissipate. But inside the soul field, it served as a pillar. Trufnir's panic trance was broken by this fleeting event. The warmth of the soul led him to it, called him to it. Trufnir ran toward the warmth and found the strong soul floating in gaseous state beside the body of a child.

He stood in front of the fallen girl and was immediately enraptured by her beauty. Her black hair traversed her left cheek and found her mouth. She was sweaty and had probably been running from the beast.

The beast... It was still kilometres away. It was very noisy and scary, but slow enough.

Trufnir's right knee found its way to the ground beside her chest while, with his right hand, he moved her hair back from her cheek, revealing a more dazzling beauty. Under the moonlight which created white spots on her sweat, a thought surfaced into his emotion-overwhelmed consciousness.

"Can I... can I keep her?" He asked himself with an imploring gaze while pouting.

He stood up at once and his face tensed up in seriousness. He grabbed his staff with both hands and frowned, looking at the soul cloud. He half-closed his eyes and, with his mind, called the soul into her body. It was still fresh and strong, so it went in without much trouble. It regenerated her wounds at his command and formed a seal of obedience.

He laughed and hit the ground with his staff, a white smile springing forth from the dark hairy blob that was his head. The staff strikes served as a command and Skye woke up and rose to the ground with a face of uncertainty.

What had just happened? Skye touched her head with her hand and looked at the horizon. A forest? the forest! The trees were shaking and the ravenous barks of what seemed to be a cute, tiny dog echoed and thundered through the forest. But even though she was scared, she felt protected. He turned to the direction of the warmth she felt.

She thought that it was strange that she didn't find it strange to find this stranger familiar. He was her master. She felt complete beside him. She lowered her head in respect.

"So your name is Skye", Trufnir seemed to find in her memories. "What are you waiting for, Skye? RUUUUN!", he shook her shoulder.

And so they ran together under the moonlight.

Skye's steps felt light and confident under Trufnir's green light. She ran ahead, happy to lead the way. Every time she looked back, she found Trufnir's joyful smile and felt proud and fulfilled. Across the forest, she saw a yellow light. Was that fire? It had to be. She was certain that it was Yellow Mane Town, where her house was and her parents awaited. She ran toward it, the thought of "fulfilment" filling her mind. She could not remember ever feeling this complete, as if she could fulfil her purpose in life simply by existing, by being alive by her master.

Trufnir stopped beside Skye. They had reached a spot beside the city unseen from the wall's guard towers, but the feeling of distress hadn't left him. That nameless giant with a crown of fire was still chasing after them. He couldn't run away. He was going to be crushed and burnt alive. His song wouldn't even reach the afterlife. He couldn't have this. He refused to let himself die. But what other choice did he have? It could smell his soul! And his soul was a very smelly one, carrying a decades-old crust of death embedded into every pore.

Alas! He looked at Skye and remembered why he had chosen necromancy as a trade. Her joyful smile gave him a childish excitement that he could not avoid. The thought of giving bodies a new life. He almost whistled a melody before he heard the next bark. This bark was different. It was unbearably close. Crisis filled his mind and he eyed Skye one last time.

This joyful soul. Wouldn't it be enough to cover his own? Like a flowery mantle with a perfume of young life and beauty. He saw her smile and his heart ached. He raised his right hand toward her in the shape of a fist, pressed his lips in regret and opened his hand. Her soul dispersed at once and approached his staff on his left hand. With his right hand still open, he led the green cloud toward him and showered himself with it, feeling a rosy scent of youth cover him as the thump of Skye's body found the ground again, never to move again.

His staff hit the ground again and her body turned to ashes. He stood there for a few minutes. He could have revived her again. He had a gourd full of souls. But he could not have filled such a tender body with his angry souls. Turn her into just another undead? He smelled the air, bringing the last of her scent into his lungs, before turning toward the city gates and walking slowly, head down.

The beast would never find him. Skye would make sure of that while her soul dressed him, he thought. He would stay in the city for a few hours, gather a few more souls and leave. He looked back toward her ashes. He struck the ground again with his staff and the ashes dispersed under the moonlight and burned with green fire before disappearing. He was free to roam now.

This story happens chronologically after Black Fog — Green Fire. It can stand on its own, so it's not necessary to read the first one before reading the second one. However, it does explain many motives.

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