Chapter 226: A Stream of Memories

Name:The Soul Keeper Author:Dweia
I was gazing upon the outpost – the home of my predecessor from the nearby hill. Demons, mostly children and young adults, were playing and working in the grassland surrounding it. Despite being almost dusk, no one seemed worried. They didn't fear the dangers of the night.

It took me a moment to realise I had been dragged into a memory. I wondered whose it was, and absentmindedly pushed a few strands of crimson hair aside.

My hand froze mid motion. Crimson hair? I looked at my hands in a panic, to see a scar at the back of my left hand.

"The hell?" I whispered as I felt… weird. I looked around, then dashed down the hill, towards the river. A reflection – I needed to see myself in my reflection!

I almost choked as I reached the river and knelt by the shore to look at myself. Bright blue eyes and shoulder length crimson hair. I only caught a glimpse of myself before the reflection disappeared.

"That's honestly surprising." I heard a man's voice. I flinched, then looked behind me, my heart racing with a host of emotions. Fear, surprise, hope, excitement… Everything. "Such an interesting specimen. Perhaps…" 

I couldn't see the speaker. No one was here. I looked around as I got up, what did the voice even mean by that? "I…" The voice sounded again, but then faded. It took a few seconds for me to hear it again. "Such a shame, really…" It was but a whisper this time. "Perhaps, with a bit of strength…"

I felt cold – so, so cold, as if I were in icy water.

Wait. I was in freezing water! My body – well, my predecessor's body was still in the river, wasn't it? I was drowning!

"Hey!" I shouted. "What the hell is this?"

The voice sounded from farther away. "… should try again later…" I thought I heard a deep sigh before silence set in.

"Hey!" I shouted as panic began to set in. If I died to fricking drowning after somehow surviving this far… I didn't even know what I would do. Die in shame, I guess. Yet not a soul answered my cries.

I gritted my teeth – how had I gotten stuck in a memory so quickly? Whose was it? It had to be Dorith, right? I had no other soul nearly strong enough to trap me like this, maybe other than the guardian of my predecessor's tomb, but the snake had lost all of its memories. Besides, how would the snake have a memory of this place? 

No, it had to be Dorith. Which also meant that the voice I just heard was probably his too. Was I hearing his thoughts, I wondered, or was that an attempt to speak to me? If it was the latter, it was clear proof that communication wasn't one of Dorith's strengths.

"Hey, don't run off!" A young girl shouted. Startled, I looked at her, only to see her and a little kid running around, playing something like tag. "Oh." She suddenly stopped as her gaze focused on the hill I just came from. I followed her gaze, then gasped.

It was Dorith. Wearing formal attire, he just landed on the hill and gazed upon the land stretching before him. Then, he slowly walked down and approached the little girl. "Is the Keeper home?" He asked, with a surprisingly gentle tone. The girl nodded, seemingly not intimidated by the powerful Demon's presence at all.

"Thank you." Dorith glanced at the building. "Could you please tell him that I'm here?"

"Sure," She said with a shrug, then motioned the younger kid to follow her as she dashed towards the building.

I gulped. When was this happening? Was it before that horrible battle, or after? I stepped closer to Dorith – I wanted to, no, needed to hear what they were going to talk about.

It took a while before a figure I knew too well stepped out of the gates. My predecessor approached Dorith with slow, somewhat hesitant steps. I furrowed my brows, how come was he so… apprehensive? What had happened to the incredible confidence and wisdom I had seen in him before?

"Dorith," He said. "I'm glad to see you well." 

"I would like to say the same to you, Keeper, but you don't seem too well." Dorith's response prompted me to look at my predecessor again. He was pale, but that was his usual skin colour. He didn't seem to different to me, but then again, I could be missing something.

"It is to be expected." The Keeper spoke. "I interfered with the flow of time – changed the fate of many." He glanced at the setting sun. "A price must be paid for such interference."

My eyes widened. 

Dorith looked away. "I understand," He said. It looked as if he had to force every word out. "Nevertheless, thank you, Keeper. You saved so many of us – perhaps even changed the outcome of this war. We are forever in your debt." He placed his hand on his heart. "If there is anything I can do, please-"

"Tale the young ones and the children." The Keeper's voice was low, but it carried enough weight to silence Dorith. 

"What?" Dorith asked in shock. "Why? I don't understand."

My predecessor glanced at the children. "As I said, a price must be paid for interfering with fate." His cold, emotionless gaze focused on a confused and clearly shocked Dorith. "I do not wish for them to pay it with me."

Dorith quickly shook his head. "No, wait. Is it a battle that awaits you? What is it? We can help, both me and the Lord. You know better than anyone we can help."

The Keeper shook his head. "No, if you wish to help, take them somewhere safe. To the Lord's castle, where they don't need to fear the Divine Matriarch or any of the invaders."

"But what will happen to you?" Dorith insisted. "That's what I want to know. What is going to happen to you that makes you so fearful of the future?"

The Keeper simply shrugged. "If I knew, I would tell you." He glanced at the sky. "It is dusk. Tomorrow, come and take them away. I will have them gather their things tonight." I glimpsed a hint of sorrow in his eyes. "Do not be late, Dorith."

With that, he turned his back on Dorith and returned to his home. As he walked among them, the children ran towards him, showing him flowers, rocks they had picked up or whatever new and exciting thing they had found. He stopped and took the time to talk with each of them, and Dorith watched him until he disappeared behind the gate of the building.

Once the Keeper was out of sight, Dorith's shoulders dropped. He seemed defeated. He stood there in silence for a little bit before finally stretching his wings and flying off. As soon as he took off, I felt dizzy. My vision blurred and darkened, the memory was ending.

A split second later, I found myself in the ice-cold water of the river. I swam to the surface immediately and took deep breaths. How much time had passed, I wondered as I looked around in a panic, only to find myself exactly where I was before. 

I quickly dried myself and put fresh, clean clothes on. Had I experienced that memory in such a short time? Seeing as I hadn't drowned or dragged away by the powerful water currents, I couldn't have been out for more than a split second. 

I shook my head in confusion. While the minimal passage of time was to my advantage, suddenly being dragged into a memory like that was dangerous to say the least. What would I do if it happened during battle? It could easily get me killed.

The stirring soul in my chest had calmed by now. I took a deep breath, then tried to find Dorith's soul out of the many resting. It was dormant, just like it was supposed to be. With furrowed brows, I made my way back to the ruined outpost. What was all that about? 

Had Dorith wanted me to see that memory? Why? Was that a message to stop me from interfering with the war between the Demons and Ereth? Would some horrible, terrible disaster fall upon me if I didn't stop?

I sighed. I had no way of knowing, and doing nothing while so many died, and while being threatened by the Demon Lord, was absolutely out of the question.

"You're back early." Lucius said with a grin as I pushed the old wooden door open and stepped inside. He was sitting on a bench, absentmindedly cleaning his sword.

"Washing myself doesn't take hours, Lucius." I forced a smile, then headed to the Keeper's study. "I'll be in the study if you need me. I want to check something."

I wondered, could I find a record of what happened in one of his journals?