Zeke examined the unprotected Soul in front of him. This was his first time ever seeing one. In his excitement, he hadn't even taken a closer look.
Soul perception was incredibly strange. It was like a mixture of seeing, hearing, and feeling. Even though there was no visual component involved, Zeke had a very clear image of what was in front of him. His sight was perfect — as if the fallacies of the human eye had been stripped away.
The longer Zeke examined it, the more confused he got. The thing in front of him didn't seem to have a fixed shape. It was a glowing silhouette that constantly shifted forms. Although it was always in flux, all shapes were vaguely human. From a tiny, muscular man to a fat woman; from a beautiful girl to a tall warrior — Zeke watched with great interest the many shapes it morphed into.
In contrast to its shifting form, the Soul's color remained constant. It was a muddled grayish brown, one of the most uninviting colors Zeke had ever seen. For some reason, the sight of it worsened his mood. The closer he focused on it, the more depressed and melancholic Zeke became.
When he averted his gaze his mood immediately soothed. Apparently, he wasn't immune to being influenced. After calming down, Zeke started on the task he had come to do. Now that he had found a way to access the prisoner's Soul directly, he actually had a chance to find out who had sent the man.
Zeke was determined to get everything out of him. It wasn't only because the man had tried to ruin him and destroyed his father's work. No, it was also important to find out if they had an enemy Zeke knew nothing about. If there was a hidden power that had stayed anonymous so far, then it would be of utmost importance to find out who.
Cautiously, he tried his Mind Magic. In place of his core, he utilized his very Soul to cast his Magic. He merely extended a tendril of Mind Mana as an experiment. To his surprise, it was almost effortless. The Gigers had a theory that the core was only a physical manifestation of a person's Soul. If that was true, then it made perfect sense that a Soul could use the same affinities.
Zeke handled the tendril smoothly. Even though this was his first attempt, it felt like his control was already better than ever. There was no awkwardness or delay in the way the Magic followed his every thought. This didn't even feel like casting, but like operating a part of his own body instead.
After a few minutes of experimenting, Zeke returned his attention to the glowing silhouette in front of him. Whenever he had tried to invade the spy's mind, he had to contest the man's mental barriers. However, that wasn't true anymore. Zeke increased the mana he poured into his tendril, and slowly closed in on the entity in front of him.
There were no walls, no traps, and no other defenses as Zeke's Magic approached the Soul uncontested. Upon reaching its target, the tendril immediately latched on to the man's soul. Zeke hadn't even commanded it to do so. Apparently, Mind Magic was very compatible with Souls. The connection seemed pretty stable and the tendril was locked on tight.
Back in the cell, the spy's body jolted. It was clear that he had felt this. He had started to spasm and twitch the moment the tendril made contact. His eyes opened wide as he stared at the boy in front of him in utter disbelief. "What did you do?"
Zeke didn't reply. He didn't even pay attention to the man anymore. His focus was entirely consumed by what he could sense from their connection. This was by far the strangest sensation Zeke had ever experienced. The more he focused on it, the stronger it grew.
Before this moment, Zeke had known almost nothing about the man. However, the connection they shared now allowed him to experience the man's very essence. It wasn't words that were transmitted, but pictures, feelings, and thoughts. For example, he learned that the man was a very contradictory being, full of contempt and envy at the same time. He had felt that way ever since he was a little kid, since… since… Zeke couldn't quite tell. There was something there, but it remained just out of reach.
He attached a second tendril. This did the trick.
The man had been jealous of almost everybody since he was a little kid. He had grown up in an orphanage. He hated it there. There was never enough food, and he was always hungry. But the worst was when he saw them, the other kids. All the kids outside the orphanage had parents and they all looked happy. Ohh, how he wished he could be one of them.
A third tendril, then a fourth.
Growing up in the capital as an orphan was tough. Everyone treated him like a pest. It was like he carried a contagious disease. He hated it. It wasn't his fault he had no parents. Then finally, the day came. The day that changed everything… Another tendril — today he would find out that he had a Flesh affinity.
He didn't know what it meant, but people congratulated him. He was approached that same day by a man he had never seen before. The man was wearing clean clothes and looked very neat. His hair also had the most exotic color he had ever seen. They promised him food, they promised him warmth, they promised him a home. The boy immediately accepted. To the fourteen-year-old, this was everything he had ever wanted — little did he know of the suffering that awaited him.
He didn't have to starve anymore, and he didn't feel cold during winter, but this was no home. It became immediately clear that the people around him were not his family. They didn't see him as an equal at all. In fact, to those people, he wasn't even human. No, he was a weapon, nothing more, and nothing less.
Still, he was better off than in the orphanage. Here, he at least had the chance to learn. He learned how to fight, how to read, write, and count. He learned manners and etiquette, but most important of all, he learned Magic. It didn't take him long before he could change his face, then his skin, hair, height, size, and eyes. By the time he had grown up, the very concept had lost all meaning. He could be anyone he wanted. He could be an old man in one moment, and a little girl in the next.
Then the day came when he was sent out on his first mission. He was tasked with infiltrating a house. He didn't need to steal or do anything. This was merely a test. He needed to stay undercover for a whole day and then return. His teachers made it very clear that he would be killed if he got caught, and nobody would come to save him. The boy absolutely believed them. He knew that he was nothing to them.
He was nervous at first and changed his form several times. He had been taught to copy the habits he had observed. By the time the day was over, he was completely relaxed. The people around him didn't even have the slightest clue. Was this supposed to be hard? This wasn't hard at all. Upon his return, he was praised for the first time in his life. What was this feeling? He craved it, craved it with all his being.
For years, he lived that same life. One mission was followed by the next. He would usually be sent to obtain information. He liked those missions, in and out, quick and easy. If this was all he would ever do, he might have even enjoyed his career. However, oftentimes, he was sent on sabotage missions. He didn't enjoy them much, but he was good at it. Burning a factory, destroying plans, stealing a carriage — he had done it all.
Sometimes, however, he would be sent to kill. He didn't like those missions; hated them, in fact. The first time he took a person's life was when he turned seventeen. He had prepared himself mentally and was certain he would be fine. But when his knife found the girl's heart… he wasn't fine. He saw the fear in her trembling gaze. She must have been about the same age as him at the time. He witnessed the moment all hope left her, as she bled out on the floor. He didn't know exactly what happened next, only that he ran — ran away in shame and guilt.
Zeke attached the 20th tendril, or maybe it was the 30th?
On his way home, he threw up constantly. Why couldn't he see? Why were his eyes so blurry? All he wanted to do was sleep, but sleep eluded him. He didn't find any rest that night, or the next. This was by far the worst experience of his young life, but as time passed, he slowly got used to it. No, that wasn't right, he never got used to it. A small part of him would always crumble away when he took a life. But at some point, there was just not enough left to crumble, dulling the impact.
Time passed, and eventually, he advanced to Grand Mage. With the advancement, his treatment got better. He even had the right to pick his own missions now. Heck, he was even getting paid, but as always, there were strings attached. Now, he was responsible for his own expenses. This didn't sound all too bad until he saw how expensive his affinity crystals were. This forced him to make a choice. He could either take the easy road and forgo any chance of advancement, or he could take the hard road and push on.
An easy life might have been tempting for some, but not for him. For a kid from the streets, power was everything. He would never be free if he didn't reach the top. For years, he worked mainly as an assassin, trading all his rewards for crystals. He didn't care anymore, having long since accepted his lot in life. This all continued until he was offered a very special deal — a long-term assignment, somewhere outside the empire. The mission was apparently very time sensitive, and he would be able to immediately meet the contact…
For some reason, Zeke had a hard time getting any further information at this point. It was like he was fighting against something. He used even more tendrils and pushed with all his might. He could hear a strange wailing but ignored it in favor of finding out about the mission. The next scene he witnessed was between the spy and a hazy figure.
"…going to Tradespire via airship. There will be hundreds of people on board, so it should be easy to blend in. You will be able to receive assistance from our personnel there. You will be able to contact them with the help of this device."
The person who spoke was a woman, her face shrouded. This wasn't unusual at all. The man had never seen the face of any of his handlers. Usually, they would even go out of their way to avoid a meeting like this. This arrangement seemed very rushed, almost unprofessionally so.
"What is my mission?"
"Information gathering, first and foremost," the woman explained. "You will be instructed on any further tasks by the people on the ground. Your contact goes by the name of Gigol. Anything else?"
"When do I leave?"
"Right now." The woman approached in order to hand him the device as well as his mission details. Just then, he caught a glimpse of her face — he knew that face!
Zeke was awoken from his trance as somebody yanked him off his chair. It took him a while to gain any sense of reality again. Who was he? Where was his contact? What about his mission? Was I discovered? Do I need to shift?
It took him a good minute until Zeke recognized where and more importantly who he was. Finally, he recognized the situation he was in. David was holding him by the shoulders, staring right into his eyes. Zeke had never seen the man so serious. "What happened?"
"That's what I would like to know, young lord," David said with a glance to the side. Zeke followed his line of sight until it also landed on the prisoner. He immediately gasped upon seeing the man's form.
The man, or at least what remained of him, looked like he had endured the most horrific torture imaginable before finally suffering death. His body was awash with blood, which had seemingly streamed out of every orifice. Many of the blood vessels in his eyes had ruptured, making him quite literally bleed from his empty, lifeless eyes. Even in death, his teeth were clenched so hard that many of them had broken. A dark red puddle of blood pooled under his chair.
Zeke's expression changed from shock to horror. He had done this! In his craving for answers, he had ignored everything and pushed on.
He had killed a man in the most horrifying way possible.