by David Oliver
Rikol, Scythe, Sophia and Ella murmured awestruck thanks at the godlike figure in front of them. He chuckled and waved us on before stopping Cassius and myself. “If it pleases you both I received some new information on the art we discussed last week, if you would like to come with me I will briefly show you.”
He led us in the direction of the study and soon we were in the bolted and magically shut room. “Welcome both,” he rumbled. Again the panel door slid open and Anatha stepped out. She shook her head at his questioning stare.
“Everyone in the hall already, aside from Cassius, has zero or minuscule levels of black seraph within them,” she said softly.
Cassius and I breathed audible sighs of relief which the Emperor noticed with an amused glance. “You’re glad that your friends aren’t tainted?” he murmured. “You should be, and I’m very glad that they are not. They are fine additions to the Academy and I would not wish to lose them.” He gave us both an intense look. “Everyone who was in that hall when you arrived can presumably be trusted. I will not bring you in here again if I can help it. Word will reach your ears of suspect individuals if needed. If anything happens, save who you can and put down those putting up resistance.”
“Kill them, sir?” Cassius asked, a pained look on his face. “Can’t you purge them like you did with me?”
The Emperor sighed heavily. “You were not fully in the control of black seraph when I got to you Cassius and even then it was hard going. Those who have been in the grip of the shadow can have powers which you will not have seen in your seraph classes. Do you think Rya was taught any of what she nearly killed you with? I fear that if I tried to purge one then if there is another in the audience he or she will wreak untold havoc. So no, I intend for them to be put down, and swiftly. Do what you can and make me proud.”
He gave us both a nod and then ushered us out of the room as Anatha slipped back into the hidden side panel. On our return to the main hall he gripped our shoulders tightly, nodded in a genial fashion and then moved on to mingle. With a dour look at each other Cassius and I did the same.
It’s a strange feeling trying to enjoy a ball whilst keeping your awareness on edge and looking for anything out of the ordinary. People try and get you drunk, bringing drinks and food, and you take it as you don’t want to raise suspicion - after all the Emperor had thrown this event purely for the Academy so why wouldn’t I be getting rip-roaringly drunk? Thankfully there were so many people pouring into the hall at this point that it was easy enough to distance myself from those who knew I was acting oddly and introduce myself to others. Cassius and I spent the majority of the evening near the entrance hall and saw nothing untoward for the first couple of hours. We didn’t see Anatha in our time there, didn’t receive any secretive notes or warnings and there was no suggestion from the Emperor’s smiling face and vocal attitude that anything was amiss.
I spent a pleasant half hour catching up with Simone and Merowyn, the two of them as inseparable as ever. Merowyn had more of a wild glint in her eyes than the last time I saw her and Simone a few more streaks of grey in his hair but other than that they were mostly the same. Both had been on missions around the globe that they largely refrained from talking about, only offering that some had been ‘difficult’. I could only imagine what ‘difficult’ might mean in the context of two Imperators who were that highly trained but I didn’t probe and neither did they regarding the fourth-year exam - just offering congratulations on passing and leaving it at that. Eventually the call for dinner rang and we made our goodbyes to join our respective friends.
The Emperor certainly hadn’t been underselling the promise of the meal. Each time I went to the citadel I was blown away by the quality of the cuisine, I guess it was to be expected when dining with the most powerful man in the world. For starters we had delicate cuts of beef that had been marinated in some kind of spicy sauce. For a cold dish it gave an impressive kick that set the senses aflame and perfectly prepared the taste buds for the next seven courses. Each one was exquisite in flavour and, judging from the noises of approval coming from the ever-hungry Imps, perfectly cooked. Wine was constantly on hand and glasses were never allowed to go empty, each rapidly filled by eagle-eyed servants. Imps and Imperators drank and ate their fill; cheeks becoming red and eyes glassy. The Emperor was matching the Imperators drink for drink, challenging those he obviously knew well to game after game and leaving an array of passed out Imperators in his wake. Whether it was his size or some other quirk of his mysterious abilities he was barely swaying as he demolished each challenger one after the other, each victory only spurring on others as the hope began afresh that they would be the one to bring him down.
For the happily unconscious members that the Emperor left behind in his wake, servants came forward to help them out towards carriages that stood waiting outside to transport anyone that wanted to go back to the Academy. Or at least that’s what I thought they were doing but as I extended my senses at least one pair of servants deviated from the course, taking a drunk Imperator who I had not met before on a different route. A number of people carrying blades and wearing armour closed in on the servants and quickly moved the Imperator down into the bowels of the citadel where my senses lost them.
Clever. He must have a high amount of black seraph and the Emperor has used a drinking game to remove him from the board.
It didn’t look like I was the only one to notice. At least two Imperators and three Imps were showing signs of stress with increased heart rates and body temperature. They either really didn’t enjoy drinking or had another reason for not wanting to join the group of stupefied Imperators in the Emperor’s wake. One of the Imps was a third year and the other two were fifth years and the panic on their faces as the Emperor approached was a hard thing to stomach. I had a good idea of what the Emperor would do if they chose to fight - though if they were truly corrupted by black seraph then I doubted that they had much choice in the matter at all. Thoughts of Rya and her all too fleeting moments of sanity where she had broken free of control ricocheted through my mind and my hand tightened on the glass I was holding subconsciously until it shattered with a loud crack, causing a number of heads to turn and the three nervous Imps to jump before offering me intense glares.
“Sorry,” I murmured sheepishly as servants came forward to clean up the broken glass. “My hand slipped.”
“Effan, running away so soon?” a voice like thunder rumbled and caused every head in the room to turn. I realised that one of the Imperators had used the distraction of my glass shattering to get up from the table and begin making his way towards the exit.
The Imperator stiffened and stopped in his tracks before slowly turning around. “My apologies my Lord but my stomach does not sit well with me today. I would like to return to the Academy to rest if it pleases you?”
“No need to apologise Effan, I am sorry to hear of your ailment. The best doctors in the empire are at your disposal, my men will escort you to them,” with a wave of his hand a number of servants swept forward, “please do not worry, you will be taken care of with the best care.”
Effan paled and I could have sworn that his heart must have been audible to everyone and not just me. His hand flexed and closed, as though itching to clutch the hilt of his sword. “That is not necessary my Lord, please do not worry yourself.”
“Nonsense,” the Emperor boomed. “Whenever one of my valued Imperators is afflicted,” he ground out the word in a voice like crumbling rocks, “then it is my duty to free them from that malady. I won’t take no for an answer - my staff will see to your needs.”
One of the servants stepped forward and bowed before holding out a hand to the entrance way. Effan tensed, his eyes darting around the room as though looking for a solution before locking onto the Emperor’s implacable stare. The Emperor made a gentle hand motion and Effan visibly swallowed before bowing and leaving in the direction that the servants indicated. Once again the servants directed him to the right where another
squad of armed and armoured men intercepted him. There was a brief struggle and then Effan was limp in their arms, though whether dead or alive I couldn’t tell before he disappeared into the underground.
This time it was almost like the remaining Imps and Imperator received a slap across the face at the same moment. Eyes twitched and their bodies flared in my senses as though everything within their systems was on fire. As the rest of the guests returned to their drinks the Imps and remaining Imperator stood as one. Black veins throbbed to the surface and I watched in curious horror as their eyes filled with swirling black until it was like looking into an abyss and in this instance I was very sure that the abyss would be staring right back.
A thunderous clap shook the air and the four controlled Academy members were flung across the room and into the wall with a splintering crunch. A cacophony of alarm rang throughout the hall as Imperators saw what was going on, many of the Imps panicking whilst the majority of the Imperators drew blades and drunkenly stumbled to guard the Emperor.
“It has gone far enough,” rumbled the Emperor, his gaze locked on the eyes of the lead Imperator. “Leave them and try again another time.” It was clear that his meaning was to whatever or whoever was controlling the four and not the unfortunate souls who had been taken.
There was a stamping of feet and a squad of guards rushed into the hall, each complete in gleaming obsidian armour. “Clear the room,” came a barked order from the lead guard.
Not a single Imperator moved.
“Imps below fourth year leave now,” thundered the Emperor, his face showing no strain at holding the four. “Take those too drunk to stand with you. Kane, Acana, Adronicus, escort them out and keep them safe.”
It showed the level of loyalty that the Imperators had to the Emperor as the three didn’t utter a single word of the protest that I could see on their faces. Not even Acana Wyckan, the High Imperator.
A harsh croaking sound splintered the silence as the Imps began to be herded out of the room. A sibilant voice began to be uttered in disturbing fashion from all four individuals at the same time. “So you finally caught on, congratulations.”
“It was inevitable,” rumbled the Emperor. “Just like your eventual defeat at my hands.”
The resulting cackle sent shivers down my spine. “How eventual, old friend?” the voice queried. “I have never been stronger and you still play empire builder. Have you got bored with this one yet?”
“Do not listen to his lies children,” the Emperor ground out between clenched teeth. “He is the Great Deceiver. And I am done listening.”
“You never were good at it,” sibilated the voice. “As predictable as ever. Enjoy this. I know I will.”
As the voice finished all four individuals squirmed and roared, black veins flaring throughout their bodies and black flames rushed out from their limbs. The wall splintered as the Emperor brought more weight to bear on those he had trapped.
“Children,” he said in a voice tinged with sorrow. “Three of you I wish I had known. Penye, you have been a faithful servant and if you are in there I want you to know that I appreciate all you have done for the empire.” He nodded at the guards who were waiting with weapons bared. “Do it.”
The four guards approached warily, each moving with the lithe grace of a dedicated weapon practitioner. I had no doubt that each knew Kaschan and that the armour they were wearing was likely custom tailored and a replica of the set that the Emperor wore so nonchalantly. If Tyrgan’s insight into the bodyguards was still accurate then each would be a force to be reckoned with; together they would be practically unstoppable.
The first guard reached the nearest Imp and without breaking stride thrust his blade through the poor Imp’s heart. Black eyes flickered and for a second I’m positive we saw the Imp’s fear-filled eyes shine through before the black flames roared and burst forward, consuming the Imp’s body and leaping towards the guardsman where it stopped dead as the Emperor raised his hand.
“Did you not think that I would anticipate the sacrifice of your pawns?” he asked, the scorn in his voice palpable.
“Absolutely,” answered the voice. “In fact I counted on it.”
The Emperor’s face held a look of complete shock as a burning fist erupted through his sternum. His scream of pain became a roar of anger and Erethea, our fourth-year seraph instructor, flew through the room along with everyone within twenty feet of the Emperor to crash upon the walls. A moment of stunned silence and then the Emperor collapsed to his knees, blood trickling from his mouth. His hand reached to touch the hole in his chest and he slowly tilted over to the side to collapse on the floor in a crunch of armour.
As he collapsed, the pressure that held the corrupted individuals released. Instantly all hell broke loose.
The two remaining Imps leapt forward and immediately launched an onslaught against the guards. The calibre of the Emperor’s elite was immediately noticeable as they drove off the horror of the last few moments and ducked into the fight. The two Imps were decent enough fighters but the only reason that they weren’t immediately brought down was that every time they got close to one of the guards black flame gushed forward. Fortunately, the obsidian armour looked to provide some protection against the fire but it spread onto everything else that it touched. Soon the inside of the hall was a nightmarish inferno with living flame that actively leapt at anyone foolish enough to be in range.
I firmly believed that those who were corrupted and held in thrall could learn new skills under the tutelage of whoever controlled the black seraph, Rya was a perfect example. She had possessed skills that would not have been taught at the Academy. Which is why the two Imps must have been fairly recently turned as beyond the flames they didn’t exhibit anything particularly impressive. And if the fight had just been the two Imps then things would likely have been over quickly.
As a normal Imperator, Penye must have been skilled.
As a corrupted Imperator he was a demon.
Twin whips of black flame lashed about him as he engaged the nearest two guards in a whirlwind of motion. The whips punished the guards, their armour allowing them to resist the fire but the impacts still sent them sprawling, and then he was amongst us. Screams of pain and horror erupted as the whips flicked along the Academy members. Some managed to get seraph shields up in time. Many others did not. The fire latched on to flesh and spread; turning people into tinderboxes. The air grew thick with acrid smoke, burning lungs and blocking sight. Penye didn’t seem to have any of those problems and took full advantage of all the inconveniences that we were suffering from to wreak untold havoc.
Even though the Emperor had told me to be wary I was still caught off guard at the sheer speed and brutality of our foes, not to mention the Emperor’s death - that shook me to my core. Thankfully I had done as the Emperor had asked and drawn as much strength and speed from Seya as I could currently hold. I’m certain that it was the only thing that saved me. A whip hurtled out of the smoke and if I had reacted any slower I would have been consumed in black flame. As it was I managed to dance aside, draw my sword and then rush towards Penye. I say rush, in reality it was more akin to a complex dance. The bewildering speed and fluidity of Penye’s weapon of choice was extraordinarily difficult to counter, and the whips themselves couldn’t be touched as they were composed entirely of pure flame. This meant that deflecting any blows was completely impossible unless you had armour like the guards or impressive control of seraph.
Looking back, I probably should have left tackling Penye to the Imperators. Simone and Merowyn were not far behind me and had much more experience of utilising seraph in such a manner, I essentially just had to rely on overwhelming speed. It sufficed until Penye saw me coming. If I’d thought his attacks were fast beforehand, when he knew that a threat was closing in they became a barely visible blur; any one hit of which would have ended me right there and then. Fortunately, and as I have thought many times in my life, I had Cassius.
And Ca
ssius? He had Asp.
As I ducked, weaved, flipped and twisted my way through the string of attacks, Cassius concentrated on the weapon at his side. He drew from his pool and channelled energy into the blade until it was thrumming with power. With a bark of effort he drew the blade from the sheath and as he did so sent a slice of energy whistling through the air to shear through one flame whip that had been about to send me to an ashen grave. As soon as the whip was cut any part of it not connected to the Imperator’s body flashed out of existence, giving me a much-needed momentary reprieve which I used to close the gap and deliver a sweeping cut from torso to neck. Or at least, that was the plan. I kept forgetting that his control of seraph was far, far beyond my own. My blade ricocheted off some kind of shield and shattered, the power behind the blow generating far too much stress for its nature to handle. For a moment I thought that was it - I could see the sneer on Penye’s face, a look of amusement at someone having come so close only to fail at the last hurdle. But thankfully that was when Simone burst onto the scene, echoing Cassius by sending a beam of blue light that forced the corrupted Imperator to turn from me and reinforce his seraph shield.
Without a blade I was worse than useless; unable to get in close to deliver any blows with my limbs due to the black fire that was running up and down the man’s frame. My seraph knowledge had not remotely gotten to the point where I would be able to generate magical attacks like Penye or Simone and so I ducked under a whirling whip, waited for Penye to focus on Simone and then attempted to drive the nub of broken blade into his armpit.
I hit him; of that I was sure. But if he felt any pain he certainly didn’t show it. Instead he flicked an arm at me and I was forced to dive out of the way to avoid being chargrilled. Another flick and another roll, the flame whip striking the wooden floor and adding to the conflagration that was building. He went for a third and then howled in agony as something thumped to the floor. Cassius had managed to send another blade of energy hurtling through the air and with barely any effort it had carved its way through the meat of Penye’s arm before hammering into the far wall.