Shane Gostick is a life-long author, however, this will be his

first published work. With over 25 years martial arts experience, he currently runs his own dojo in the community where he lives. He owes much of his writing success to his terminally ill mother

for whom he is full time carer and who encouraged him to finally complete and publish this story. He is a firm believer in humanity and what we can be capable of when we harness our

intellectual and spiritual powers to the full.

R E A L M O F S O U L S

To my mother who is my inspiration for starting and

finishing this book, and a true testament to the strength of a

human being, and its impact to the world around it.

S h a n e G o s t i c k

R E A L M O F S O U L S

Copyright © Shane Gostick

The right of Shane Gostick to be identified as author of this work

has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of

the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,

stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any

means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or

otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this

publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims

for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British

Library.

ISBN 978 1 84963 556 1

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2015)

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd.

25 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5LB

Printed and bound in Great Britain

Acknowledgments

A special thank you goes out to friends and family who have helped and encouraged me to finish this book, and continue with

the others shortly to follow.

Thank you to Neil Sawdon for designing the front cover. And finally thank you for everyone who buys this book.

Preface

My name is Jacob Rawn, I was born in England in 1893, for over a hundred years I have been a soldier, a wanderer, and a survivor.

I have fought in a war that has raged since before recorded time, a war which would not be shown in newspapers or on

television, and yet has claimed many lives. This war is not fought over borders or capital, but of the

earth’s greatest resource… the human soul.

Creatures from myth and legend travel through the dimensional rifts to our realm, our world, they feed and harvest the human soul for food and power.

Some brave men and woman are taken by a friend of humanity, the ancient race of Drakeions and trained to be sentinels, these mystical warriors are trained in the dragon arts

to use their souls as a power source for amazing abilities. Once trained they are returned to the earth realm to combat

the invading forces of the unnatural creatures feeding upon it, in secret we fight… and die.

Many friends have I lost in my time on earth, no one knows

of their sacrifice, no one knows of their struggle to keep humanity free and alive… until now.

My order, the sentinels were tasked by the Drakeions to

fight the evil spreading to our world, we failed… I am the last sentinel on earth, I wander this world searching

for my enemy, my sword ever ready to combat the unnatural creatures that threaten us, but I cannot last alone.

I watch this world almost destroy itself with its wars, its

pollution, its greed, as I wander the globe I cannot help but wonder if my friends’ sacrifice, if my sacrifice is worth it.

Humanity must learn to survive against the coming

onslaught, it’s only a matter of time now. As for your enemy… let me tell you my story.

Chapter One

The Story Begins

November 17th

2012, a dark and stormy night fell on the magnificent city of London, England.

The heavens open to reveal dark drops of cold heavy rain

pouring into the city streets soaking all beneath. Thunder and lightning struck through the skies with a

deafening rumble to follow the bright strobes.

The people of the city run around the streets trying to stay out of the rain, but the weather was the last thing on one man’s

mind this dark night. Deep in the fields of Hyde Park stands a man, his name is

Jacob Rawn.

This man, known to very few in the world is a soldier, a soldier like none other on earth, fighting a war that has raged for thousands of years.

For over seventy years he has fought Wars and battles which have never been seen by outsiders, in newspapers or on TV, with

thousands of deaths on battlefields not of this world, and yet Jacob survives.

Survives and continues to fight this same war he has fought

for many years and will do so till the day his spirit is freed from this place.

Standing alone in the park his attention is focused to the

open field around him. His short blond hair now dark and soaked drips down his

stern young face and into his blue eyes, yet he does not blink but

remains focused on the open field. His long grey trench coat fails to keep out the weather as the

open front allows the rain to soak his white t-shirt and blue jeans.

The weather refuses to alter as he stands seemingly unaware

of its effects.

His size and build well hid under his drenched coat are now betrayed by the see through wet t-shirt, revealing a well-toned and muscular physique.

In a sudden and sharp swift motion he spins around as his attention is caught by a faint sound behind him.

Turning round he readies himself as his eyes lock with that of his target.

A small black cat pushes through a small bush trying to

keep dry from the wet weather. A sigh comes from him as he relaxes once more closing his

eyes for a brief moment clearing his vision.

Opening his eyes and looking again to the open field his attention is grasped by a hooded lone figure.

Another sigh and a sharp flick of the head clears the rain from Jacob’s eyes and dripping hair, he walks towards the lone figure.

Anger festers within him as he looks intensely at the man as he approaches.

Both men walk towards the centre of the field until they

meet, both stopping within an arm’s reach of each other. The hooded man slowly raises his arm and pulls back the

hood hiding his face, to reveal a long blood-red haired man staring with a look of pure hatred towards Jacob.

“Well, well, the great man himself, the legendary Jacob

Rawn.” Jacob looks up towards the man’s face stirring deep into his

eyes and returning the look of pure hatred for him, as he listens

to the man’s husky deep voice. Towering over Jacob by a clear 2 feet, Jacob seems not to be

intimidated by his size or the anger directed within him.

“Been a long time Varamont.” “Indeed it has.”

Never removing their glare from each other both men seem unaware by the heavy rain and thunder.

“I missed you in L.A. by a day.”

The man’s face let slip a smirk grin at Jacobs’s remark. “So you have been hunting me.”

“Are you that eager to die, are you that eager to feed me your soul...Human.”

Jacobs gaze follows the man as he slowly walks around

Jacob as if measuring him up. “Die” Jacob replies.

“I have died a few times, once by one of your minions, once, I was nearly killed by your master.” Jacob adds.

Jacob’s fist clenches firm as he remembers those dark days.

The tall man’s face let slip a smile at the news. “Ha, petty humans are no match for the power of my kind.” “And we have no chance of besting one of you in battle,

blah, blah, blah, I have heard all this a thousand times over, and yet, many of your kind have fallen to me.”

Varamont’s smile vanishes and is replaced by the look of anger and hatred.

“That may be true...”

Jacob now returns the smile with a gesture of confidence. “You know it’s true, if the human spirit is trained and

nurtured properly, as I was, then your kind is in deep shit!”

Jacobs’s words cut deeply into the man as if remembering some wrong Jacob had done to him.

“Humanities numbers greatly over power even your hordes, and in time they will be strong enough to fight for themselves.” Jacob states.

Both men stare at each other, pure hatred runs through them. “We shall see, human, for when you fall tonight, no one will

stop me summoning my lord, and laying waste to this stink

infested back water realm, and claiming the souls of every living thing in it!.”

Jacob stands motionless as the man almost screams his last

words, his hands lay still in his trench coat pockets as he watches the tall man in front of him.

Reaching into the folds of his cloak wrapped around him, a long black covered blade emerges as if from nowhere.

The sword itself stands nearly three and a half feet in length

and is over three inches in width, the heavy two handed sword is filled with blood red rubies on the hilt and a black crystal at the pummel.

With one hand he pulls it from his cloak as if he was wielding a twig and brings it crashing down towards Jacob.

With his other hand he rips the cloak from his body

revealing a blood red silk martial arts GI suit, strange ancient golden silk symbols decorate the entire outfit.

Screaming with anger that burns within him he strikes at Jacob.

“NOW DIE!!”

A quick jump back send Jacob out of the danger zone of the mighty sword as it crashes into the muddy water and soil of the ground.

Regaining his footing he looks to his opponent, Jacob reaches into this long dripping wet coat and pulls a fine silver

blade from within. Jacob’s sword resembles that of the katana used by the

mighty samurai in times past.

Both the blade and the hilt are made from some silvery blue metal that gleams in the lights of the city.

The hilt has an engraving of a dragon wrapping itself around

a human stood upright and arms stretched out above its head, two blue gems as eyes for the dragon, and in the hands of the

human at the very pummel a large misty white crystal. Holding out his sword pointing to the ground Jacob walks

around his combatant never taking his eyes off him, finally he

settles into a ready position with his sword raised high at the side of his head.

Both men return the hatred gaze to each other, as Jacob

remains still, his opponent with a smirk on his face and a confidant walk slowly paces in front of him.

“You really think you can beat me?”

With anger in his eyes and voice, the man continues, beating on his chest like an ape declaring his dominance.

“ME! A horned blood lord from the hell realm itself, do you really think you have what it takes to kill me HUMAN!”

Once again the tall man swings with ease the massive two

handed in sword,

Hurling the blackened blade towards Jacob thrusting towards his stomach, Jacob wastes no time and quickly parries with precision and skill.

Blow after blow, parry after parry the two men lock in combat.

Jacob never losing his cool manages to contain his anger and focuses on his opponent, while his attacker relentlessly attacks.

His confidence builds as he notices Jacob not returning his attacks and is completely on the defensive.

Letting the confidence get the better of him he steadily lets

his great strength wane slightly thinking he has this battle won. Jacob takes advantage of this, waiting for his time to strike.

Jacob’s time has comes, his attacker comes in for a low stomach thrust with his mighty blade, Jacob pats down with his blade and at the same time steps in with his left hand aiming for

his opponents chest. Jacob summons from within him a spark of his power,

focusing on the centre of his open palm his hand glows a bright

blue, slightly shifting his hand out of view leaving only a faint outline surround in this hazy blue light.

At the same time as his pat down with his blade the left open palm thrusts into the open chest of his attacker striking true.

Jacob’s palm closes on its target but before actual contact occurs the light from his hand hits its target hurling the man away from Jacob.

Lifting his opponent off his feet his body hurls through the air some five feet slamming hard to the muddy wet ground sliding along the grass.

Looking to his enemy with surprise and pain, Varamont holds his chest and notices part of his fine silk suit now singed

ruined, leaving a blacken exposed chest the size of a basketball. Rising to his feet Varamont’s anger swirls within, his grip

tightens on the hilt of sword holding his chest with his free hand

he looks intensely at his enemy. “Improvement I see.” Varamont’s voice echo’s with rage.

“Am just full of surprises.” Jacob replied. Both men ready themselves for another burst, the wind and

rain continue to fall,

The thunder and lightning rage on relentless. Finally the peace is broken, both men move in for the attack,

blade clashes on blade, Strikes aimed high and low, parries save their owners flesh

from devastating blows aimed to dismember or kill.

Jacob’s eyes focus on his enemy trying to find a weakness as his fatigue builds within, yet shows no sign on the outside for his opponent to see.

Varamont struggles to match Jacob’s sword skills, compensating with brute strength, over powering Jacob’s blows

in order to shake him and knock him back slightly, saving him time for another strike.

Jacob presses his attacks speeding his body beyond that of

normal human beings, his arms and foot work become that of a fine dance.

His magnificent blade reaching out again and again

relentlessly for its target, only to be blocked by a now worried looking enemy.

Jacob’s arms become a steady blur, like an item out of focus on a photo.

Striking towards his opponent Jacob finally connects.

The silver blade disappears deep into the stomach of the tall man, then reappears as Jacob continues his attack, spinning on the spot Following through with another strike to his opponent’s

left upper thigh as the blade angles upward. The attack continues followed by a down angle strike to

Varamont’s left collar, down to his right hip as Jacob enters a

spin again as he disengages from the final attack and steps back. A flood of fresh crimson splashes from the now open

wounds, the man lets out no screams but mere grunts as if he barely felt them.

Holding back his anger and the small amount of pain he

now feels he looks back to his stomach wound. Pressing his hand to the wound and lifting to see the fresh

blood flowing from him. His eyes turn to Jacob.

The tall red haired man spins his mighty sword in his hand pointing the tip down to the ground he slams the blade deep into the ground letting the blade alone as he stands up.

Reaching to his now ruined fine silk GI he rips the cloth from his body never taking his eyes from his enemy.

The man’s strong muscular build is clearly well formed and the slight flow of crimson upon him does little to hide his size.

Suddenly Jacobs eyes change from a focused steady look to

a now curious slightly worried look. The tall man’s body now seems to grow in size, his eyes

never leaving Jacob but teeth gritted and a slow grunt comes

from him. His skin colour changes to a deeper shade of red like the

colour of blood itself. Watching in amazement Jacob lowers his guard and

watches.

The now demonic looking humanoid in front of him seems totally alien to the man that was stood before him.

Two large black horns curl out of his brow running round

the top of his eyes round towards his ears then up sharply towards the sky.

The black and sharp looking teeth are hard to spot in the blackness that is his mouth.

The giant sized man stands a huge 12 to 13 feet tall, with

muscles to match his size. The creature’s hand size could easily grasp Jacob’s upper

torso in one hand.

The large black sharp claws look like it could split timbers with a single stroke.

“Now, I’m pissed.”

The large bellowing voice comes from the towering beast looking towards Jacob with anger and anticipation.

Reading himself once more for the fight ahead Jacob refuses to let the size of his enemy affect him.

Reaching for his sword again the now huge beast swings for

Jacob again and again.

Parrying barely under the now even greater strength of his adversary, Jacob struggles to keep his footing, each blow staggering Jacob and his defence.

The rage now felt by the beast allows him to open a gap in Jacobs’s defence, with his mighty sword he swings up with a

back fist strike that could lift a truck from the ground. Jacobs’s nimble blade clashes with the beast’s blade, trying

to stop the blow but the beast’s strength is too great knocking

Jacob back a few steps. His sword knocked aside the beast lets fly his huge fist

striking Jacob’s head and upper torso at once.

The blow sends Jacob through the air flying backwards, his fine sword knocked from his hand.

The tree some ten feet from his old position splits in two as Jacob’s shoulder blades slam hard into them.

Falling under the strain it took, the tree topples over

crashing to the ground. Jacob barely hears the sound of timber splitting, or the

sound of the tree crashing into the now rain soaked ground.

The tree taking the impact stopped Jacob’s flight abruptly, sending him straight down face first with a heavy thud.

His body now throbbing with pain through his upper body and head remains still face down in the waterlogged grass as he struggles to get his breath.

Walking towards his fallen prey, the beast’s smile lets slip the dark liquid from his mouth like a slavering predator about to feast.

“Your feeble human body is incapable of the power you need to defeat me.”

Suddenly coming to his senses, as if a sudden electric jolt

had run through him, Jacob hears nothing of his attacker’s words, only feel the heavy thuds as his massive feet close in on

him. Staying where he lays making no attempt to move, Jacob

looks fanatically for his blade never lifting his head continuing

the rouse that he is badly wounded. Locating the fine blade down in the grass some twenty or so

feet from him, another plan comes to mind and the beast’s