Magister Verax lectured me as a child. He not only taught me the basic skills and subjects expected from someone residing on earth, but also about our history. A curious learner from an early age, I would constantly request information about who we were and why we seemed different.
“Magister, why all the secrecy and how did we develop our special skills in the first place?”
“These are not developed skills," the bulky two hundred and ten year old man explained. "They were granted from the heavens above. After Jesus Christ hung on the cross, the Lord of Life wanted to punish man for his evil deeds. Our kind was created to remove the souls of everyone who could no longer see the gifts bestowed upon them. In return for devoting our lives to stealing damaged souls, the better we did, the longer we could endure on earth. Comprised of fifty men, fifty women, all about the same age, and all from what is now present day Western Europe, they became the original disciples of the Lord of Life.”
“How were all these men and women chosen Magister?"
“The first chosen were a direct descendant of our leader, Charon Orcus. Charon's ancestor was given the task of finding another ninety-nine humans to follow the laws given to us. They would learn to thieve damaged souls. The Lord of Life gave the initial one hundred the amazing responsibility and power to see into a soul and steal it if necessary. A power we are never to exploit.”
“Magister, over time we have moved around the world, how do we know who belongs to our kind and who does not? After all, we do seem alike on the outside. And another question, why can’t we all see into souls or steal if we are all from the original one hundred as you imply?”
Veras smirked. “Caeles, our bloodlines have been a guarded secret and stored on the island of Crete throughout the generations. Because some in our history have comingled lives with pure human form as lovers, once they did, none of their offspring have been known to develop the ability to see into another’s soul. Taking a pure human as a partner is not forbidden, but it is not encouraged either. It has drawbacks since our secrets are then exposed to a wider audience. But then again try telling Mrs. Jones next door your husband will live nearly three hundred years and might remove your soul and get her reaction. If you get close enough to form a bond with our kind, you are not likely to advertise it. It is also one theory as to why our species is now struggling to survive here on earth.”
He continued on, “Eventually we all die dear boy, as will our Elders, but careful attention is paid to making sure our Elder’s bloodlines have remained pure throughout our history. It is one reason why they are the Elders and you and I will never carry that honor. No Elder through all the generations has ever mated with a pure human after the Lord of Life bestowed upon the original one hundred, the gift. It is carefully regulated how many of the purest of lines procreate. Your family has a history of taking humans as partners, the most recent being a grandfather on your mother’s side of the family tree. Even though you may develop the power to steal as you age, you will never develop the ability to see into another’s soul. Only the purest of the bloodlines ever develop that power. This is not theory, but proven history.”
I remained confused. “Magister, am I to understand that even though I may develop the power to steal, I will never develop the power to see into another’s soul? This is because my family has mated with pure human form thus interrupting the bloodlines? And only if I can see into another’s soul will I have the right to sit on the Council?”
Not sure of being totally committed to his response, he softly said, “That is correct Caeles, only the purest of bloodlines will ever have the power to see and therefore have the right to sit on the Council. Despite our dwindling numbers, the purest of the pure are still kept to a minimum.”
I must have muttered under my breather louder than I thought, “We will see about that,” since I clearly remember getting a stern look as I returned to my lessons.
I grew up in typical suburban neighborhoods outside of London, England and Madison, New Jersey, as well as Rome, Italy. We moved quite a bit during my youth. One issue we have is since we live up to four times longer than full-blooded humans, our appearance changes slower than your typical person. It is an odd thing for someone, who looks like a child to humans, yet is nearly forty years in numerical age. That was me. Our family had to move every few years not to draw attention. When my mother passed her one hundredth birthday, she had the beauty of a twenty something woman. Not an easy thing to explain to nosy neighbors.
It was not an easy childhood, since when I appeared to be a ten-year-old boy I already had the knowledge of a thirty five year old man.
My mother would tell me, “Most thirty five year old human men act like ten year old boys, so you will fit right in.” I assumed she was teasing me.
By the time I looked like your average teenager, I spoke several languages. I was well versed in the math and sciences as well as world history. I also had read many of the literary classics. It did have one big advantage. I was popular with local teen-age girls, who saw me as a genius. On the other side, some of the boys used me as a punching bag because of my perceived advanced brainpower. However, I kept a good journal of names, hoping I could pay them a return visit later in life, to rip their souls from their abusive bodies.
As well as my tutor, my father also explained to me that I was one in a long line of people given a special talent. One where I could possibly develop the ability to capture souls for the good of our own race’s survival. Not everyone in our bloodlines, not him, or my mother ever developed the gift to steal or see into another soul. Not even the Elders could explain why some developed the power to steal, while others did not.
Some wanted to believe it had to do with the bloodlines. Others wanted to believe even though we were granted the right, it was still a skill that needed to be learned and developed. Like any skill, some beings happen to be better at one thing over another. For me, I am not so sure, since I watched my father work at developing the skill for years when I was a child. It was a great honor among our people to remove souls. Most, if not all, worked diligently to develop the precious skill.
My mother never worked at developing the power. She would tell me that her bloodlines were filtered with too many pure humans over the generations and in her opinion, “I never had the patience or desire to put forth the effort needed to learn.”
In truth, I think she was happy to be a mother and support my father in making sure we had a peaceful home.
In numerical age, the number fifty remains important to our kind. It is the day the journey begins in learning how to steal souls. By that age, despite still looking like a young man of eighteen years, we have reached the age of “liberty.” We are educated to steal by our fathers, even if our own fathers never developed the skill themselves. The lessons are knowledge that has passed through the generations. It is not important if you are male or female, at the age of fifty, it is the duty of a father to administer your training. Some give up quickly, like my mother told me she did, but most take it to the final stage.
Training for me was a series of physical and mental challenges all designed to get my mind, body and soul in top form. It ranged from becoming a top player in chess and poker, to yoga, to being lost in the woods and using the brightest stars to guide me. Our kind produced several grand masters in chess, along with winners of top poker tournaments around the globe. We almost felt guilty in taking the prize money, but we also had our bills to pay.
In chess, we learned patience, as well as to learn how to think steps ahead of our opponents. In poker, we learned to read our opponents thoughts. We watched for facial expressions, and learned how to bluff. Yoga and other physical routines were to keep our bodies in top condition. Our mothers closely monitored our nutrition from the time we were born.
For me, I knew I would develop the skills after left to defend myself in the northern sections of Australia. It was when I first felt one with nature. While there, I thought I was spying on a tribe of Aborigines, watching thei
r every move, only to discover they had been watching me all along. I spent three months with the tribe learning about nature and their culture. The tribe leaders taught me how to value what grew from the ground and what lived in the local waterways.
It was the first time in my life that my conscience really got the better of me. Once the leader and I could communicate on a basic level, I knew he was suspicious why I was lost in his land. I knew I could not tell him anymore than I was attempting to “become one with the land.”
It had others in the tribe weary of me as well. However, once they realized I meant no harm, it became easier to enjoy and even occasionally participate in their rituals. If you look hard enough, you will find a drawing of my visit on a large rock in their region drawn by one of the elders of the tribe.
I spent too much time away. I was ordered to justify myself in front of the Council. My time allocated was to be no more than thirty days. I was gone ninety-three. Lucky for me, once the Council realized my skills had taken great leaps while in Australia, I only a stern warning was issued.
Despite there not being a hard and fast time for the training, it generally lasted about five years. My father schooled me with the idea, “The number five has a special power of healing.”
I never understood how learning to steal souls led to “healing” when I was younger, but possibly, I strived to understand. I always suspected my family had secrets they did not want me to fully understand until later in my life.
The hardest part of my training was when I expected to develop the power, knowing my father never would, and my mother forfeited her chance. I could see the envy in my father’s eyes. Yet, other times I felt his joy. He always stood by with words of encouragement, like his father did for him. His father was a master thief. I never knew if my grandfather was disappointed in my father or not.
For me, I knew there was sadness behind my father’s words when he spoke of never being able to achieve the skills. He did all he could to disguise it, but from time to time I could feel his emotions running deep inside me. Even though I could not see into his soul, I could sense more than I anticipated. I did not know exactly what the feeling was, but it became more evident the more I trained. My senses honed to others.
Before attempting the final stage of removing a soul, the last step in training was to become a salesman. It was so we would have to deal with society directly. It was a lesson in patience and empathy as well as attempting to understand what made humans tick. This was not my favorite part of training. I much preferred living in the back regions of Australia watching the stars. Humans can be rude, arrogant and insulting to people they perceive as weaker. It only showed me most times they were only masking their own insecurities, while attempting to act superior.
Little did any of them know, even though I looked to be a man in my early twenties, I had traveled the earth many times over, and my knowledge of the world was vastly superior to almost everyone I attempted to sell a car. Yet, I had to learn patience and not spill out my story. I will admit I came very close to attempting my first stolen soul with one incredibly rude ass of a man from New York. However, once again, I logged his credentials into my journal begging our paths would again cross.
My father made it to the same point I was at in my training years before me, but he never could complete the final task. I knew secretly he attempted the last test even at an advanced age, but he never succeeded. I wanted to believe deep down he was pleased with me, but he was also a proud man who never could accept the fact he failed at taking even the weakest of souls.
The final step was to remove the soul from a small animal. Even though our mission was to only take from humans, who had lost their ability to appreciate life, one exception was made to ensure we could succeed before investing time and energy on a much larger subject. Since we cannot sustain our kind on common animals, large or small, we limited our test to one success, on one small animal, generally a common rat.
“My son, even though the past few years have been difficult for you, this last step is the shortest in time to complete, yet only a small percentage of us complete the task at hand," Father said. "If you give it your total focus and desire, it will be over in a few minutes. Now, do something I was never able to do, feel the power of removing the soul from this rat. It will not give you the same sensation as a human. We do not feel it throughout our kind should you succeed like we do when we steal from a human. But you will feel the rush from removing a soul."
I wanted him to let me get on with it, but he refused to rush into anything.
I warn you," he said. "if you don’t feel it, do not lie about it and continue the journey to the Council. If you tell them you're ready, but never felt what you should, you will fail without question on your first mission with humans. Should you fail, you will never be given a second chance. Don't lie about it. I don't have the experience to tell you how the sensation feels, but you will know if you succeed. I wanted so many times to believe I felt it, but I knew I was only attempting to convince myself of a lie. ”
How was I supposed to know what it felt like if my father could not properly explain it to me? It did not matter. I had anticipated this moment for over fifty year. I shook inside, but careful not to let my father see the fear rooting deep inside me. He knew I was strong willed, but we both knew less than twenty percent of us now could remove even the smallest of souls.
We purchased a rat from a pet store, which was supposed to be snake food. I surrounded the brown rodent with my eyes and thoughts. I looked at the fear in his eyes as if somehow the creature knew what was about to happen.
I reached down and cupped him in the palm of my hand. I felt his fur. I felt the uneasiness in the rodent’s body. I closed my eyes. I tried to connect as best I could with the rat. I could clearly hear my father’s heart pound in his chest as he stood nearby. I could feel the breeze pick up as we stood in the open field. I could the smell the rain off in the distance. I felt and heard every movement in nature that surrounded me and the other living souls in my vicinity. I lowered the rat to a small patch of open dirt so that I could get a clear view, and snap, I took my first image as a soul stealer.
Instantly, a bolt of lightning touched the horizon in front of me. A surge went from my fingers up to my brain then down to my toes. It did not last long. I asked my father if he felt the ground shake or for a tiny instant feel the earth standstill. He did not. I knew my training had concluded.
Should I make my presence known to you, it could be as any name or occupation, though my given name is Caeles Novo. I will look to you as an ordinary person walking on the common streets across any section of the globe. Depending on how well I complete my mission, my life here on earth could extend close to three hundred years. Yet despite my unique aging process, my kind is very similar to the human species, with human emotions and human frailties. I am trained to take from you the one thing you should not ever want to lose. I am very, very good at my vocation. You might consider me an assassin. I was trained to believe I am doing society a favor by doing the work assigned from the heavens.
I’ve lost count at how many times I have taken a soul. In recent times, I fear my actions are not saving our existence, but damaging it. It is a painful transition when you question if your life has been a lie. Everything I taught to me now rushes through my brain on a daily basis. I question my mortality. I question if am truly doing the work I was destined to do. I am trapped in a world I spent more than fifty years of my life studying, yet I realize I know so little about who I am.
There are so many days I want to hide in a remote part on earth, never to be found. Yet, every time I succeed with a mission, my kind flourishes. I am recognized as a savior. I feel a rush inside me that ordinary humans only think they experience when they speak of a “rush” for winning a championship or doing something good for another.
I feel that same sensation, only it is magnified a thousand times over. The earth stops for me every time I steal a soul and for t
hat instant in time, I am one with the world. I should feel gratitude that I am able to experience something that so few who have lived on earth could ever know, yet inside, I am broken.
From the time we can speak, we are taught to recite our mantra. We are lectured to do it the first moment we awake, and when we lie down for the evening. I have recently had too many sleepless nights with those short words radiating in my brain, no longer convinced I utter the truth.
“You, the ungrateful fool, who dare to destroy your soul. We are the keepers of all things pure and righteous. In taking your soul, we are destroying the evil you have so carelessly allowed to enter your most prized possession.”
The High Council and Magister Verax have pounded this idea into my senses so deep, that I can’t fathom how I could question something so ingrained in every fiber of my being. What could be wrong in me correcting a wrong? Why should I pity your irresponsible acts? If you can’t take care of the perfect gift given to you at birth, then you don’t deserve to keep it, right? It was all I knew for many decades of soul stealing. I was led to believe this was my purpose in life. Is my life all a lie, or am I destined to be the greatest soul stealer who ever walked the planet earth?
CHAPTER Three