This Hollow Heart (Seasons of Legend #1)

4. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Evengi

T he spirits are restless here in Sunder Hollow, and I’m determined to figure out why.

I can hear them crying out, whispers of abominations and injustices. I stroll down the muddy streets of this town that I can only describe as quaint. At least that’s if I am to listen to my mother’s teaching and save my tongue from saying any insults.

Tis never polite to insult, even if it’s deserved .

“And the polite will rule the world,” I whisper smiling slightly at my mother’s adage. Oh, but she is a particular woman and far too prim for any of our gods. It’s been too long since I’ve last visited my family. I will have to remedy that soon as I can, but first the ghosts.

Sunder Hollow may have some things going for it—things I have yet to witness—but its size is not one of them. The population is small, and the people mistrusting. I suppose I cannot blame them, in a town this small and isolated, these people are at risk of a large band of bandits raiding them or something far worse…

There are always the sorcerers who engage in their cultish practices. Many sorcerers choose to live in isolated areas where they can perform their heresies without the threat of a discovery. These are dangerous times, you come across the wrong mill and wind up as a human sacrifice.

Sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice… the spirits hiss and I find myself frowning. These spirits are more than restless. They are angry.

I wish that one would materialize in front of me so that I can speak to it, ask it important questions such as who killed it and how long it has been dead.

Spirits don’t have a way of marking the passage of time, and so old wounds still drive them even if the person they wish to avenge may be long dead.

I twist my head, as cold air washes over me. To the people around me it may seem like just the wind, but I know better. It’s the frustrated breath of the spirits.

People go through their lives so blissfully ignorant, not realizing just how many of the spirits have lost their way and now exist somewhere between the world of the living and Skyhold, the realm of the gods and the dead.

They trust that upon their death, Thyre, the head god and guardian of the afterlife, will collect their souls and bring them to him. But those who have died in especially violent ways often remain behind, bound to this world by the nature of their death. And they aren’t the only ones to become trapped spirits.

Those seeking vengeance also lose their way.

Those who are still too connected to Ruskhazar and do not wish to leave.

Heretics.

There are far more ghosts here than anyone would realize. It’s just that most people cannot see them since the ghosts spend most of their time in noncorporeal forms, only taking on visible attributes in extremely rare circumstances.

The rest of the world can’t see what I can see.

Keavor says that it’s because of my accident during my first year at the academy. I had been stupid and not taken the proper precautions in the Spellcraft, and a spell backfired on me. The spell would have killed me, perhaps it did, but the academy healers were on hand and were able to revive me. Ever since then I have been able to hear the spirits.

I was a part of the spirit world for a few precious seconds. When I touched it, no matter how briefly, it left its mark on me. And I on it.

I suppose I should be glad that the accident happened because it’s given me my purpose.

I’m not sure what I would be if I weren’t a ghost hunter.

And Sunder Hollow has to be one of the most haunted towns I’ve ever come across.