Solus barely grabbed hold of the offered hand when his soul was ripped from his body. He felt as if dragged through fire, ice and steel arrows. He imagined his skin flayed from his bones and then those very bones shattered into a million pieces. The pain was beyond enduring as he watched his own body disintegrate until the only thing left was a translucent cloud, vaguely human-shaped, floating above a mound of grey dust. He waited for even this ethereal form to be stripped from him, too.
Drawn toward the black-winged man’s open palm, Solus felt his form – his soul – compress with a feeling of tightness, like his breath was being squeezed from his body except he had no body with which to breathe. He did not have a chance to feel or think as his soul took the shape of a ball of light and he was thrown into the air. But rather than hang in the ash and smoke of his ruined city, he instead found himself in blackness. Even that was short lived, and the blackness exploded into a dark forest.
Solus stood next to an old ornate iron gate, his translucent form floated just above the mossy ground. He could hear murmuring in the darkness beyond the trees and searched for its source. It was difficult to make his way to the edge of the forest. The usual command his brain would give his body to “walk” did not seem to work in this new form since he had no real legs to walk on. After a few frustrating moments, he came to understand that if he just looked in the direction he wanted to go and thought about being there, he moved in that direction, and with quite a bit of speed.
Breaking from the trees, he discovered a large castle sitting atop a small bluff overlooking what appeared to be a mist-covered lake. He could see ghostly figures, like himself, mingling in an open courtyard near a high stone wall that stood at the edge of the bluff. At the center of this wall was a heavy wooden double gate that shimmered with a dim light of its own. A path led from the forest to the castle and Solus chose to follow it.
When he reached the courtyard, he stared out at the crowd of souls and nearly wept. He recognized some of them as people from his city. But when he rushed up to greet them, the gate doors swung open from the wall and an enormous snake emerged from it. He reeled back in horror as the snake, which turned out to be a tentacle of some nightmarish sea monster, wrapped itself around a soul and pulled it toward the wall. The soul wailed feebly until the doors slammed shut after it and could be heard no more.
“Welcome to Limbus,” the familiar voice said.
Solus spun wildly to face the being that had sent him to this place. “What is happening?”
“Beyond that wall is Minos, the gatekeeper of the Lower Realm. He judges the souls who enter and decides their fates.” The man’s eyes gazed over the mass of souls. “However, not all of them will be judged. Some of these souls were Taken not because they sinned, but because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It is a pity for them.” He said the last part with a sigh.
“Am I to be judged, then?” Solus asked with a knot in his voice.
The man laughed. “No, of course not. You have greater things to accomplish, remember?” He stepped closer to Solus. “I can make you stronger, and isn’t that what you want? Strength to take back your wife?”
Solus grew suspicious. “Why would you do this for me?”
A glint appeared in the man’s eye as he spoke. “Ah, now see? I knew you would be the right choice. You are cunning, not at all naïve of the workings of the world. The power I can give you does have a price. Give up your soul and become a demon. And once you are Changed, you must swear loyalty to me and be my soldier. My goal is to destroy every single white-winged being, the Firsts called Guardians, and take back the realm that rightfully belongs to us. So my goal is your goal. Once the Guardians are no more, we may enter the Upper Realm and you will once more be reunited with your wife.”
Unconvinced, Solus responded, “To fight for someone’s cause, I must know who that person is. Who am I fighting for?”
“You are fighting for your wife, dear Solus. But we will help you. We are the Firsts known as the Fallen, and I am Andras, a Lord General of the Fallen.”
Again, Solus pondered briefly what he heard. The dull throbbing of anger he held tightly in his chest reminded him of his loss. What did he have to lose? He was already dead, a lost soul on the verge of punishment for an unknown transgression.
“Do you know why the Guardian would not take me?” Solus had to know.
Andras stared silently at him for a long moment. Then with a nod said, “You have war in your heart, child. That would be the reason.”
Solus was dumbfounded. “What does that mean? My city is constantly on the verge of attack by our enemies! What I do is for the protection of my family, my people, not because I enjoy war!”
Andras began walking toward the gate. The whispering souls moved out of his way as if afraid of his touch. “I believe the Guardians feared you. You have a strength within you that would have seen greatness in your lifetime.” He stopped abruptly and turned to face Solus. “And perhaps they rightfully should,” he added mysteriously.
Understanding evaded Solus. How could wanting to protect your home be a sin? And why would such powerful beings as these Firsts be fearful of him? Shaking his head clear, he decided only one thing mattered.
“I am yours to command, Master Andras. All I ask in return is to be with Katerine once more.”
“Good,” Andras breathed with a hint of approval. “Then let us make our way to the city of Dis. I will give you the means to get what you desire.”
Andras continued on to the gate, Solus followed warily behind. Up close, the massive fire-scarred doors exuded a despairing finality with its intricate design of skeletons dancing within a fire. Any who entered would not come back.
“Minos, come!” Andras shouted.
The immense doors shimmered brightly as they rumbled open. A great giant with a crown of horns growing from his head stepped forth. The souls moved back in panic, fearing his arms – the tentacles Solus had seen reaching through the gate – would grab them.
“I need you to send this soul,” Andras pointed to Solus, “to the demon city. He is not to be judged, do you understand?”
The giant bowed low. “Yes, Lord General,” he responded. Then one tentacle reached out and wrapped itself around Solus’s form.
Solus struggled, but he was held fast. Minos took him through the gate and hung him over the edge of the bluff. Below them was not the mist of a lake, but a spinning vortex littered with wailing souls. The wind was so powerful that it ripped the souls apart, only to have them reform and be torn apart again. Eyes widened in fear, Solus struggled harder to break free from his captor.
“Please,” he begged, hoping to be heard above the din. “Please, I do not want this fate!”
“Your fate does not belong to this or any Circle of the Lower Realm,” the giant’s voice rumbled like a mighty waterfall. “What awaits you may, or may not, be worse.” In one fluid motion, the giant unfurled his arm and sent Solus tumbling into the vortex.
Solus closed his eyes and waited for the wind to tear him to pieces. Instead, he was met by a sudden silence. He felt solidness against his back and a gentle vibrating hum passed through it to his body. He opened his eyes to find he was lying on cold, sandy ground. He willed his filmy body to stand up and took in his surroundings.
He was alone in a large courtyard surrounded by a high wall of black stone. There were low buildings visible over the wall. A great fortress stood behind the only entrance to the bare space. It glowed with an oppressive light that colored the sky. Two towering spires flanked the building like wings, each one chained to the ground as if they would fly away.
Solus then turned his attention to his translucent body. He looked closely at his arms and legs and saw that they trailed off into wispy tendrils of smoke. His soul was practically nothing but air, and yet he felt the ground when he arrived here. Spying a small stone, he reached down to pick it up. He could feel its solid mass, but could not wrap his hand around it. Frustrated, he tried again and again to pick up the stone.
“It’s no use, you know,” said a female voice.
Solus looked up to face the speaker. The woman leaned against the wall next to the entry and smiled at him. Her fiery red hair framed icy green eyes and ivory skin. The dark brown robe she wore did not hide her slender curves as she pushed herself away from the wall and walked toward him.
“Your current form can feel things, yet it cannot interact with its surroundings. But don’t worry, darling, you will have a new form soon enough.”
“Who are you?” Solus asked, struck by her cold beauty. “Are you a Fallen also?”
In answer, she gave a small laugh as large wings burst from her back and surrounded her with its ebony feathers. Still smiling, she reached out her hand and touched Solus’s body. Light at first, she began to put pressure until her hand sank through the clouded surface of his form. He felt pain spread from her touch all throughout his being. Her hand was where his heart should have been, and she slowly began to curl her fingers. Solus wanted to cry out, but his voice was frozen in his throat. She laughed once more and slowly unfurled her fingers and removed her hand from his body.
“Souls are such weak things,” she murmured lazily.
He dropped to the ground, reeling from the pain. A light whoosh of air filled his ears and he opened his eyes to see Andras standing beside the woman.
“Francesca,” Andras said her name chidingly, “that is no way to treat our guest.” He lifted a hand toward Solus and enveloped the gasping soul with a dull red light.
Solus felt the pain ease as the strange light faded away. He got up slowly, keeping a wary eye on the woman.
“Come now, Solus,” Andras began walking toward the entryway. “It is time to give you a new body.”
Francesca fell into step behind Andras and Solus trailed behind, the sheer horror of his situation now starting to penetrate his mind. He looked around him once more and realized there was no turning back.