With his very first fragment of soul fused to his own, Halbert Halburt, when last we saw him, had just left his companions on Mount Turtle.While possessing a new staggering power along with his same old rationality,Halbert’s new flux in control is such as a drunk 6 year old, who can’t have his own way, and is holding a fully loaded pistole’. He is unlearning what he knew. Losing total control, while at the same time, unleashing the parasitic deity within his veins. With an enigmatic and nearly insane holy knight as well as an assassin turned ally on his side, he presses forward. With nothing but blue pinpricks of light to guide him to his other fragments. The further he gets away from home, the twists come at him like diamond bullets, which shock him to his empty core, but bring him one step closer to his destiny....Much to His Chagrin.

Reclaiming the Soul of Halbert Halburt

Book II: SilverBy Zach Lawrence

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2010 Zach Lawrence
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4520-7932-5

Chapter One

Halbert Halburt thought he would never have to kill another child.

The voices of wind chimes skipped and danced on the breeze all around him, although in this certain instance there were none present. He stood with his arms at his side. White and pink apple blossoms drifted and swirled about in the early morning light, like a cascading waterfall of soft fingertips gingerly brushing his eyelashes. The smells seducing his nostrils with all of their supreme appleness had a mingling of orange riding on its heels, masking the acrid scent of blood somewhere in the vicinity.

Halbert was tired. There were no fancy words or interesting phrases to describe it. His recent escapades since last we left him had been great and strenuous for a man of Hal's fragility. It had left him weary.

Now standing before him, lined up like circus otters, were three. Three Tras' of the Kaniawan- child warriors of the Kaniawan. Laden with chain armor and buckled with protective plates, these misled youths brandished their gleaming weapons with a knowledgeable quality and eyed Hal suspiciously with looks of experience and delinquency. Their standoffish behavior proved to be not of a welcoming manner and Halbert stood firmly, or rather indifferently, in his place all the while playing this ongoing staring contest with the Tras'.

Five minutes now.

He realized how five silent minutes seemed like forever when you're in an awkward and uncomfortable setting. He counted the heartbeats drumming in his ears until they took a different rhythm and confused him, coupled with the unseen wind chimes producing a hauntingly invisible harmony that only he could hear. The lines of battle were drawn in the orchard dirt and no one was moving. It was apparent to him that this would end badly. This was fine with him, most things did, but he had a nagging question on his frontal lobe's stoop and it was knocking on his mind's door.

Why did all things he was involved with turn hostile?

Blood, death, deceit, betrayal, love, hate and all other things shrouded in this hazy mystery were on his back like some wailing demon and it was heavy. Also to compliment this new found grief like whipped sweet cream on a fresh pie was the fact that he was in his infancy walking in this vicious world. But there was Norene; Norene the Horse Faced Girl, who had shown him loyalty and love and absolute devotion through all times, bad or good. But he had walked away from her on top of the mountain some time ago now.

He consistently kicked his own ass for this, but the decision was not a spur of the moment thing. No, this was printed onto his fragment of a soul like a tiny note that a carrier sparrow may have tied to his ankle. He had faced the wind and the darkness alone and survived, but it had been an uneventful time for once. A time of reflection where he could see himself for what he was; ugly. Not ugly in a physical sense, but an emotional wreck that now had just enough of a soul inside of him to make him more human than he ever was before.

In the past he had been an animated mannequin walking through the streets with only a shadow cast off him and now he had feelings biting into his flesh and chewing on it like a rare steak. Halbert Halburt thought all these things during his stare down, which was why he was so indifferent. This was nothing compared to what he had dealt with before and what he was sure he would have to deal with in the future. This was just fly tracks in the butter. Nothing to fuss about. Now all he had to do was figure out a way to move forward because as of yet nothing was said except through the eyes.

The center child seemed to be the leader; he was about a foot in front of the other two and his sword had the burgundy crust of old blood spackled about the base of the blade. He wanted to kill Halbert. Hal knew it, and so did the children at his flanks. They seemed fidgety with the anticipation of the impending kill.

When he was a child himself, Halbert didn't get along the same way with the other children that one would expect. He had a different temperament almost like a hidden aggravation with the others on the playground. Not quite understanding their mind numbingly stupid immaturity and their tendency to be fascinated with activities Hal deemed a waste of his moments. Polishing a new pair of shoes, now that was something he could get fired up about. Sitting with a faint smile on his face at the age of six, he would delicately and meticulously buff his new shoes until they gleamed like the blade of a sword. He would then repeat the process again and again while the other children childishly cried, and had tantrums over insignificant toys and had shouting bouts of "Did not!" and "Did too!" He realized now all that lack of emotion was due to his newly discovered soullessness and attributed it entirely to that alone.

Being in the silent company of these children gave Halbert a brief sense of comfort he hadn't known since he parted ways with his companions, which in retrospect he now knew was as ridiculously stupid as this whole journey was to begin with. He imagined his cozy cottage with an infinitesimal roaring bonfire in his hearth while he busied himself with dusting his baseboards and awaiting the wonderful song of his teakettle. Ah, dreamy ignorant bliss, he longed for that feeling once more. He attempted to use it as a tool to take to pieces the ragged horror he felt that first night he ventured off away from his friends. Pumped full of audacity as the sun splashed its last rays against Mount Turtle before losing it's never ending battle with the night sky.

Yes, that brand new bit of soul that charged his cells was not just a brawny ally but also an insufferable enemy which lead his already frazzled nerves to be molested by a kind of fear he had never known until he was all alone that first night. Thinking of home made it worse, because he knew that every step he voluntarily took was one step further away from where he wanted to be the most.

There was also the upside of this, which was being the Scale of Humanity. He could possibly save the world from a vile and disturbing existence but the thought of that thus far seemed to do more damage than good. He wondered to himself if being soulless was what made him special and if getting his pieces back would make him the same as everyone else ...

Anyhow he was daydreaming once again before old father time tapped him on the shoulder with his withered and crooked finger, instantly reminding Hal that a whole other minute had gone by and he was still in the orchard.

The head child finally shouted something, which startled Halbert and made him jump. His ears and his brain were in agreement that this was not a language they knew and after letting Hal know this, he stood still in bewilderment. Again now the head child turned back to the other Tras' and spoke, then they all laughed, obviously at Hal's expense, and when their steely gaze fell back upon him they started stepping forward.

Halbert took a step back. He now cursed himself for using the diamond shot for his pistole to hunt squirrel when he was hungry some time back and he hoped that aiming it at them now would deter them from the bloodbath he was sure would ensue.

He was wrong.

They proceeded towards him. He could see the hunger for blood in their eyes and he was now all out of ideas. Suddenly something happened none of them expected. From the tree line behind the three Tras' walked a man. Adorned in a tarnished chest plate with one shoulder guard (the other apparently missing from battle) and black studded leather leggings, it appeared to Hal he may have pieced this suit of armor from numerous dead bodies. In the man's right hand he held onto a weathered looking bastard sword, fat and broad of width and looking too heavy to be carrying one handed. He dragged the tip in the dirt lazily behind him as he loudly clanked out to the rear of the child warriors.

They whirled around to the sound of their new threat and blinked in disbelief. His greasy blond hair blew slightly in the wind across his face and now Halbert could see he had several thongs of leather wrapped around the ricasso of the blade and wound tightly to his wrist, binding him to his sword. The children barely hesitated as they screamed and charged him, which confused Halbert immensely that this stranger wasn't subjected to a twenty minute staring contest before the onslaught.

The man held his sword before himself, and closed his eyes, and then it was over. With a blinding speed and cunning precision the man slashed once and all three Tras' of the Kaniawan fell, some in two pieces, the other whole. Blood sprayed his face and he opened his eyes slowly, almost with a relaxed intoxication to stare down at his kill.

Now and only now could Halbert see the emblem in the center of this mans chest plate. It was a symbol of the Six, which he figured could only mean this man was some sort of holy knight, but that was impossible. To kill children? Hal was baffled by this, but bit his tongue.

Now that this confrontation had ended, his dissipating anxiety was replaced by comforting warmth which he wrapped around himself like a blazing blanket made of flame and it enveloped him completely. The two of them locked eyes before the stranger spoke. "Halbert Halburt?"

"Yes, and you are?"

"Draidon, fallen Paladin of the Six."

"Fallen? Do you tag on that title for negative credibility?"

Draidon's icy gaze softened a bit as he thought about this, the apple blossoms churned about the two of them like eviscerated butterfly wings and added a sweet overture to the phantom wind chimes, complimenting the bloody heap of children at their feet.

"I have fallen from the favor of the Six, and I'm in the process of redemption."

"How do you know me?"

"I don't. But we must speak, for matters and issues that have arisen."

"They would be?" Halbert asked.

"Of a dire nature. Please, walk with me."

"Do you usually kill like this? I mean, at will?"

"Eater of Sin, which was a name I was branded by my peers. And you are the Unholy Sibyl. I admit we are not the most savory individuals, but ..." He trailed off after this comment. "And as for the killing, I am known for doing some evil for a superior good."

Halbert laughed out loud at this. He then redirected his gaze to the bodies as one of the smaller children writhed in half conscious agony. Draidon raised an eyebrow and peered down. "He needs help." Halbert said.

Draidon nodded solemnly and pushed the tip of his blade into the throat of the child whose eyes bulged as he reached for the wound and grasped the inevitability. "There's his help." Draidon said dryly and turned away.

Halbert glanced back down, soullessly unaffected and then hopped over the bodies to catch up with him, leaving the last child to choke on his own blood, bleeding and nurturing the dirt of the beautiful orchard with a different sort of liquid.

Chapter Two

Hal realized that this journey he had nonchalantly partaken of seemed to be a series of strange and random encounters, eccentric individuals and genuinely bizarre coincidences. However he also realized that if something happened to him twice, it was not a coincidence any longer but sensationally piss poor luck that in his situations could get him killed or even worse, end existence.

Now in the company of this fallen paladin, Halbert wondered to himself if everyone's path he meandered into sent them down a different road that wound towards some sort of altered and tainted destiny that they would not have let their eyes fall upon normally, had they not met Hal. Or, let him metaphorically crash his life into theirs. He frowned at this thought. He needed to remain optimistic to succeed at this quest and was fearful that these thoughts were dark and shadowy seeds somehow planted in his mind by the Demonon to crumble his resolve.

He looked at Draidon and studied him. Besides the fact that he was grimy, filthy and broken looking, Halbert could not deny the fact that this paladin was pretty like a woman. He wasn't physically attracted to him in that sense but this silent man of disgrace exuded an almost fluidic charisma of substance, like he could bottle it and sell it. His eyes were almost always glassed over like he was in some sort of realm of drunken soberness, and the gold flecks that lit his irises seemed to swirl from moment to moment. As they exited the borders of the orchard, Draidon began his story and Hal politely and silently listened as they began their trek across a lush green field that was the as expansive as the blue morning sky and eventually would become lovely rolling hills in the not so distant distance.

Draidon hailed all the way from the city of Ravus, which was a large pious conurbation that despite its size and population sat serenely along the Rael Sea minding its own business and remaining neutral among other warring countries. Indeed it had its fair share of war and skirmishes, but everything was kept unified by sentient guardians of the city, keepers of truth and honor ranking above even the most dignified of military council; the Paladins of Ravus. Holy knights who were themselves touched by the graces of the Six at birth, and granted surreptitious powers of healing and cunning proficiency in battle.

Whisked away from their orphanages literally days after birth, they were brought to the gilded halls of the temples of the Six Brothers. Being deemed worthy of Paladin-hood was something that teemed in their blood like some sort of undecipherable purity infection, and they were raised to be selfless protectors of the people and all things of the earth in the dark times, which were prophesized to possibly lie ahead.

Draidon was young still, only twenty years of age, but his soul seemed old to Halbert. He listened as the Paladin described leading an army of a hundred men against a force much larger at the age of only fifteen. He ascended the ranks quickly and devoutly, never swaying from the path of the Six. He made mention of the Scale of Humanity and how its loss had brought unrest to the realm for the past hundred years. Halbert didn't even bat an eye and continued listening as Draidon continued to explain that the Demonon's high priest Ammora had been amassing armies strategically placed all over the realm and no one knew why.

The more Draidon talked, the more Hal realized how intense he got about this, and realized the Paladin's impulses could possibly be his undoing because of his young age. Draidon relaxed a bit and had that dreamy, affectionate look etched into his eyes whilst describing his beloved city and temple. The peace was something you could almost smell on the cool sea breeze even up at the temple, which resided on a rocky plateau looking over the city and the palace below. He described how at sunset in the summer the light would splash the mountainside and make the temple halls and courtyard glow with golden tinged warmth as they recited their evening prayers and then feasted on a midsummer's venison roast with fresh berries for desert.

Even the civilians were welcome on the Day of Worship to traverse the winding path up the mountainside to worship alongside these warriors of the Six, which comforted the people by the equality the Paladins graced them with, which then lead them to feel closer to the Six themselves. The city was eloquently and evenly governed by six elders who were themselves unbiased priests, or elder Paladins of the yester ages who had military and governmental maturity. To Halbert this all seemed a wonderfully simplistic peace and a stunning city he would someday like his eyes to have an intimate fusion with, absorbing the beauty and hording some of the sublime loveliness for himself. He liked the idea of the happiness and the ocean, which he had never visited before. Plus there was that bonus that no one from there may want him dead like everywhere else he visited.

Quiet now fell between them and while Halbert was prancing through his fantasy city he was brought back down to notice Draidon had fallen silent. The sun glinted off his dented chest plate and made Hal squint some, he now understood this was probably Draidon's own unease before the actual story was going to come out, his fall from the graces.

"I killed another Paladin ..."

Halbert kept his stare fixed at the spread of the green fertility ahead. "He was a fellow student with me from youth, and advanced among the ranks quickly ... I was very fond of him."

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Reclaiming the Soul of Halbert Halburtby Zach Lawrence Copyright © 2010 by Zach Lawrence. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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