Stepan lay motionless under the pine trees. The smoke from a slowly burning building made breathing difficult. He needed clean air, but he had to stay under cover of the smoke to avoid the Black Soul Riders. The mercenary guild he spent over 15 years of his life with had now sent men after him. Misty rain with the smoke made it difficult to see anything as water poured freely from his shaven head to his eyes. He had to trust his hearing before doing anything.

They attacked his house while he was checking the hunting traps in the forest, and now his three sons were lying dead next to the burning house. Their bodies were burning slowly as their clothes had caught flames from the fire. Stepan could do nothing for them. Attackers were moving outside around the wooden house. A house that he had built himself for his family years ago. He knows they won’t back down until they either kill him or he kills them. 

There are five of them, two on horsebacks, two men on foot with swords ready, and their leader, who looked like he had done this many times before. They wear no armor, just like Black Soul riders preferred. Only rugged black clothes with a long coat on their shoulders. Armor only makes you slower in combat.  

Leader spits on the ground and starts yelling orders. “Horsebacks do a wider search around the house. Others check those pine trees. He can’t be far!”

Noise from the leather boots is getting closer to Stepan. The Black Soul advances, choosing carefully their steps under the smoke while scanning the area. Stepan sees one of his enemies within just an arm’s reach with sword ready and still fresh blood dripping from the sword. He's looking for an opportunity with only his hunting knife with him.

In an instant, Stepan’s hound Paddie lunges from the smoke onto the swordsman to protect his master, and brings the attacker to the ground as the hound has a tight grip on the man’s arm. Black Soul yells for his mates for help.

Stepan reacts with the opportunity he was looking for. He forces himself up and with a ruthless strike; he hits his knife to the man’s throat, and yanks it off violently. Man goes silent as the blood flows from his throat and spills over Stepan's arm. He takes the sword from the dead man’s hand and whispers, “Good boy, Paddie. Now stay!” 

A hard swing from behind almost hits him, but Stepan makes a last second roll to the side and evades a killing blow, as another Black Soul almost caught him by surprise. Stepan gets up and puts his sword up for parry as the enemy unleashes a ruthless swinging from side to side, trying to break Stepan’s defence. Stepan has to withdraw as his opponent lands a few scratches on his stomach. Swinging a longsword with heavy blows can break a man, but Stepan repels attacks.

A thundering voice of horses was closing in on them as the blades clashed. Stepan was already bleeding. He made a feigned swing to the left and then rammed into his enemy. Enemy stumbled back a couple of steps and lost his guard, which was all Stepan needed as he thrusted his sword into opponent’s stomach, who fell to the ground moaning in agony. 

Paddie started barking. Shadows emerged from the curtain of mist and smoke as the riders whipped their steeds forward to run over Stepan, who left the wounded Black Soul to his agony and turned to face the riders. Stepan stood his ground. He waited until those black steeds were just 30 paces from him. He made a high pitch whistle, and both horses stumbled down hard to both sides of Stepan, while sending their now surprised riders into uncontrollable flight past Stepan, smashing onto the ground. One rider got up to his knees and saw his companion lying on the ground with a broken neck and Stepan advancing towards him. Black Soul tried to stumble up, but Stepan kicked him in the ribs, taking a breath out of his lungs. Then Stepan made a full swing to the neck, beheading the man. Whoever sent the Black Souls had not told them that Stepan has control over animals with his voice. 

Black Soul Rider’s leader was the only one left to deal with. Stepan readied himself for the attack, but the man had disappeared into the shadows. He started listening, but he could only hear the fire rattling on the burning building. The hound needed to do his magic. “Paddie, search!”

Paddie rushed right past Stepan and vanished from sight as the visibility faded from smoke and darkness. He knew where the leader was with one bark. 

Stepan kept his eyes focused on the prey, raised his arms and started howling in a high pitch tenor voice. It sounded like a hundred songs bound in silence, but free again to hurt the unprepared. Like a scratch forming into a mirror, opening a rift in a place that should not exist. Voices form in the distance, creeps closer, and the fear takes over the leader, as he realizes hundred of bats engulfing him. A scream of fear and despair fills the air as he tries to swing his sword all around as the bats circle around, biting and hitting their wings against the man everywhere in his body. Stepan watches until the leader drops to the ground, still screaming. He whispers a gentle word, Käelen, which opens up a rift where bats vanish with the poor man, who is still trying to scream even he has lost his voice already.

Stepan dropped to his knees, exhausted and shivering with guilt after pushing the man to damnation without the afterlife. It was done, and he had to live with it until days to come. This was not the way he was supposed to use his powers. Tears fall on his cheeks. Because of his sons, but also for the lost soul that will torment him until the end of days.

Crows were watching over him on the trees.