by Yi Zhu
-Journal of V41, Year 7, day 81.
“Do you remember the drills Faima used to make us do?” Darius asked before downing an entire glass of wine. After six days of logistics and paperwork, the transfer of power was finally complete. The reign of Emperor Darius, the fifty-first ruler of the Glorious Empire, had officially begun.
Just as it used to be in the Academy, the unlikely trio gathered in secret, to unwind and gossip, or simply act below their stations. Katherine reached into a box at her side, and took out a piece of frozen steak. She searched around briefly, and then clamped the meat in a metal on the side of the workshop table.
“You brought meat? Inside my workshop?” Vince asked, incredulous.
Darius looked at the Shadow’s exasperated face, and refilled his glass while smirking in amusement.
“You said you keep your equipment clean,” Katherine said, nonchalant.
“Not clean enough to eat off of!” Vince said, exasperated.
“Rare?” Katherine turned to Darius and asked.
“Now I’m going to get bugs in here, just great.” Vince threw his hands up. “This is why we always had these gatherings in the palace.”
“You did claim your manor is the most secure location in the world,” Katherine rebuked.
“You did, and medium,” Darius chipped in, taking another sip.
“Medium? Really? I’m going to go a little on the rare side for your own good. Oh, and Vince, you think your Sentinels are more competent than the Imperial guards,” Katherine continued.
“What? I never said that,” Vince protested.
“That’s implied by the first statement,” Katherine finished with a wink. She turned to the steak, and conjured a small, even flame.
“Katherine the cook, that’s a first,” Darius mused, then immediately realized his mistake.
Katherine shot the emperor a nasty look, and the small fire flared up into a large searing blaze. “What was that? Very, very well done? Sure,” Katherine said as she released her alchemy. Trails of smoke rose from what used to be a steak.
“Bugs!” Vince cried out and sat down in his chair, defeated.
“Stop freaking out. I’m sure you have killed plenty of assassins in your workshop; still, even with all those dead bodies that used to be here, no bugs!” Katherine countered.
“That’s really disturbing,” Vince said, and scratched his chin. “I really hate you sometimes. Because that’s the dumbest logic I have ever heard. And I hate that it makes sense somehow.”
Darius stood up and filled two more glasses. One by one, every person held their wine up high. “For the Glorious Empire,” Darius toasted.
The glasses clinked, and the reminiscing continued well into the night.
Several hours later, Vince sat alone in his study, and flipped through an old journal. The pages were wrinkled and well read, so Vince handled it with care. Every page in the book served as a reminder of the days Zed had forced knowledge into him. Hundreds of pages with a thousand fond memories served as the reminder of a better time, a simpler time.
But that’s all relative in this screwed-up world.
Carefully, Vince retrieved a doodle of Zed from between the pages. Even at a young age, Vince had realized his talent at drawing. Of course, in a goal-oriented place like the Academy, Vince had kept his artistic side hidden.
On the day he'd drawn the sketch, Vince had used it as a tool to calm his friend down.
Zed was very upset, having just received news that one of the ruling elites performed public executions, immediately after a tax hike resulted in a minor uprising. Enraged, Zed vowed to take the life of that Elite’s son, a fellow student.
“An eye for an eye,” Zed had said.
Vince had sat his friend down, and made him mull over of the decision until the sketch was completed. With such small effort, a major incident was averted.
A solution without bloodshed.
With a sad shake of his head, Vince forced his mind back to the present; there was still much to do before he could sleep.
Loneliness washed over him once again, and he decided to get some air. With his new mobility units strapped on, Vince threw on his replacement coat, and walked out of his study.
The hallway appeared empty at first glance, but subtle movements in the dark corners betrayed the presence of the Sentinels. Surrounded by familiar figures, Vince relaxed. Casually, he began a walk around the manor.
The Sentinels all gave their reports as Vince made his round. Aside from a false alarm regarding the delivery of food, and difficulty escorting the drunk Katherine off the premise, it was an uneventful night.
Just as Vince began heading back to his quarters, Sentinel VI rushed up and bowed her head.
“There’s a woman at the gate. Dark brown hair, five foot six, wearing a cloak. From her movements, I am guessing military training. The slight bulge around her waist could be concealed blades. She is wearing a Fist Sigil, so we let her approach, but she refused to identify herself,” the Sentinel said with a bow.
“Assassin?” Vince asked, as the two of them ran toward the main gate in haste.
“Possibly,” the Sentinel replied, her voice distorted by the mask. “She claims you would want to see her at once. And … I don’t know why, but something about her looked familiar. I just can’t quite place her.”
“Thank you,” Vince said as the gate came into view. In the distance, there were two dozen Sentinels crowding around a lone figure. Each masked guardian had their grapples aimed at the woman, ready to strike her down at a moment’s notice. A hood obstructed the view of the woman’s face, as her head was tilted down.
The crowd split apart as Vince approached, but every Sentinel kept their weapons raised.
“You wanted to see me?” Vince asked.
Slowly, the mysterious woman raised her head, and pulled back her hood. Cold blue eyes looked back at Vince.
Sentinel VI was right; there is something familiar about her.
“What is your business with the Lord Shadow?” Sentinel X demanded.
“I am glad to see you have survived,” the woman said calmly, her hands relaxed at her sides.
“You!” Vince cried out in surprise. It had been so many years, though the face before him felt fresh to his mind. Even knowing the woman had aged differently than in his imagination, this was undoubtedly the same person who had changed his life.
The girl from my dreams.
Fifteen minutes later, Sawyn walked into the guest chambers, escorted by two masked guards. They introduced themselves as Sentinels, she reminded herself, and took mental note of the serial codes on the side of their helmets.
“Lady Merian,” Sentinel XLI said with a bow toward Sawyn, “should you want for anything, you have just to ask.”
Merian? Was that honestly the best fake name I could come up with on the way here? Sawyn thought.
“Thank you, how do I summon the servants?”
“There is no need, merely speak it, and the Sentinel stationed outside will see it done,” Sentinel XV replied matter-of-factly. The two guards bowed deeply, and took their leave.
The moment she was alone, Sawyn sorted through her bag. She had hidden any potentially incriminating items in a secret location near a slum, just in case she was searched. With a casual flourish of her hand, she untied the twin scabbards hidden around her back. To give the Sentinels credit, they noticed her weapons almost immediately, and held her up at the gate.
Not that they could have stopped me. Though, for some reason, they didn’t bother to seize these weapons, Sawyn thought, and cracked her knuckles. She looked around the room, and nodded her head, suitably impressed. Her personal feelings about the Shadow aside, the man had good taste. Complementing a large, well-padded bed, there was also a fully stocked work desk, and shelves full of scientific texts.
A gentle knock interrupted her thoughts. Swiftly, Sawyn tucked the blades under the bed.
“Come in,” Sawyn said as she sat down
on a chair.
The door swung open gently, and Vince walked in, his face gleaming with a childlike amazement.
“I can’t believe it’s you! I am sorry; you probably need your rest,” Vince apologized earnestly. “It’s just that, I spent years looking for you, but never—here you are! How have you been? Where have you been?”
Sawyn calmed her mind, and fought down the anger swelling inside. She squeezed her fist tightly, and prepared to lie.
“As well as you would expect, for an orphan. I haven’t really been hiding; the empire is a big place,” she replied with a smile.
“But I sent out some of the best finders.”
“You grew up an orphan too. Whenever you hear that a stranger is looking for you, do you ever assume it’s good news?” Sawyn dismissed casually.
“True, true. I would probably run and hide,” Vince admitted, and without missing a beat, he pointed to Sawyn’s chest. “How did you get that Sigil? I know you didn’t attend the Academy.”
What? The question caught Sawyn by surprise, and she barely maintained her calm composure. How could I have forgotten about this?
“I found it on a dead body. I know it’s illegal to keep something like this,” Sawyn said, making it up as she went. “But the woman who took care of me sometimes wore it to get us out of trouble.”
The Shadow looked at her with scrutinizing eyes.
Mentally, Sawyn began plotting out her course of attack. She could begin by reaching for the blades tucked under the bed, with her Rift-enhanced speed, Sawyn could charge at her opponent in under a second. Vince, as any alchemist, would attempt to attack her with Alchemy. The Fye-fueled attack would then fizzle on contact, and Sawyn could seize the moment of surprise to run him through.
It was a good plan, almost guaranteed to work, but Sawyn stopped herself. While she wanted the Shadow dead, if Vince was to fall on his own, the new emperor would be hidden away in the palace and be nigh untouchable.
I must find them in the same place; I have to bide my time, she reminded herself, and held her ground.
Luckily, Vince let out a hearty laugh. “That is brilliant.”
“Thank you?” Sawyn replied.
“I once looted an Ivy Sigil off of an Elite, but I never considered using it. That’s really clever. Well, I guess I was too young to pose as an Elite,” he said with a shrug. “Anyway, do you need anything? All you have to do is ask.”
“I’m fine.”
“I insist!” Vince cried out. “Feel free to explore the city. I can send you a Sentinel kill team for escort.”
“I know how to defend myself, don’t worry,” Sawyn said with a smile.
Vince regarded Sawyn carefully. His eyes scanned her up and down, but to his credit, Sawyn sensed no improper motivations.
“Very well. I would love to chat more, but it’s been quite a long day. Let’s get lunch tomorrow and formally catch up?” Vince finished, and began to leave.
“Of course,” Sawyn said as the door closed once again, leaving her alone.
She put a hand to her heart, and noted with pride that she was calm. The plan was going along quite well. Effortlessly, she had infiltrated her target’s home. But now, the real challenge would begin, because for the next two months, she would be forced to live with the man she had saved all those years ago.
Sawyn walked over to the blades, took them out, and caressed the hilt gently.
The same man who murdered my brother.
Chapter 13: Zed
Six years earlier:
Zed stood alone in the grand library, frozen in thought. Shreds of what used to be a letter littered the floor around him. Someone had sent him the envelope in the morning, and it took him hours to confirm the validity of the report. Now he knew without a doubt, that his worst fear had come to pass: there was no one waiting for him on the outside.
My handlers, they lied to me.
Quickly, he gathered the pieces on the ground, and stuffed them in his pocket. Just as the anonymous message stated, there was a report that he needed to see, about a search mission seven years prior. In the short summary filed into the archives, it mentioned a suspect, who evaded capture and instead leapt into the Great Divide.
At first, he didn’t want to believe it, but every relevant file in the Academy collaborated the events: The imperial army marched South in search of Riftborns, and their mission led them to the Yellow Soil Orphanage, where a girl matching Sawyn’s description was chased into the toxic river.
Every letter they brought me was a forgery, Zed realized. He should have been able to see through the deception, but he had wanted to believe—no, needed to believe—that his sister was waiting on the outside. Surrounded by guards who watched his every move, and forbidden to leave the confines of the Academy, Zed lived the life of a prisoner.
Each morning, when Zed woke up, he would remind himself what it was that he fought for. The empire had taken everything from him: his parents, his future, and now his freedom. But there was a silver lining, and for seven years, the boy forced himself to believe in a future with his sister.
It was all lies.
Surrounded by books, and filled with emotions, the boy tucked himself into a corner and wept. The gentle sobbing echoed around the empty library hall, and reminded him how alone he was in this messed up world. Idly, Zed stabbed at the ground with his dagger. The rhythmic clicking of metal against stone managed to calm him down somewhat.
Click, click, click. The tip of the blade chipped away at the floor, and tiny fragments of the stone splintered and scattered away. If not for the Rudium lining the edge of the weapon, the dagger would have been ruined.
Control yourself! Zed’s mind screamed out, and he tried hard to call upon his Focus training. Desperately, Zed searched for his center, his calm, and realized with horror that his sister had been the anchor all along. The realization caused his rage to overcome the grief, and all rationality washed away in a surge of anger. Someone had to answer for these crimes. Something must be done, and soon.
Zed got up on his feet, and tucked his weapon away. The man truly responsible for all the horror in the boy’s life was out of reach, so Zed would just have to make do with another. After putting the books back where they belonged, Zed walked off toward the dormitory.
“I need to do this. He trusts you; only you can get him alone,” Zed pleaded. He had found Vince sitting and working alone in his room. For the past hour, Zed shared all of his findings about his sister’s reported death.
Vince looked back with a troubled expression, but said nothing.
Zed looked at his best friend with surprise. If there was one person in the entire academy who shared his hatred for the empire, it was Vince.
“All you have to do is get him to meet you by the training grounds, and I’ll handle the rest,” Zed promised eagerly. With a note from Vince, Darius was sure to appear. Then all Zed had to do was pose as Vince, and allow the prince to approach. One swift strike with the hidden weapon, then it would all be over.
Still, Vince said nothing, but continued to regard Zed sadly.
“I never asked you for anything. Do this one thing for me, please. Don’t make me beg,” Zed said.
“I’m sorry,” Vince said, finally.
What?
“What do you mean? Why not!” Zed demanded. Part of him refused to believe that this was happening. Vince was his best friend, his comrade, how could he turn down this request?
“I cannot do this, I’m sorry,” Vince answered, and looked away.
“Tell me why!” Zed screamed out with outrage. “I thought you, out of all people, would understand! They killed your sister, too, isn’t that why you wanted power? To make they pay?”
“Yes,” Vince said after a few moments. “But what I feel about all this doesn’t matter. You cannot kill Darius. When a royal family member falls, innocent lives will be lost.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Zed said. “The Massacre of Zone S1 was the reason I ended
up an orphan!”
“So you should understand! Empress Cynthia’s death drove Triton to give the order.”
“SHUT UP!” Zed demanded. “Do you honestly think it made a difference? That he would have ended the rebellion without bloodshed?”
“No. There had to be blood, and examples had to be made. But the entire city didn’t have to die. Losing a loved one can drive anyone over the edge.”
“That’s not true,” Zed said, and shook his head.
“Take a good look at yourself!” Vince countered, finally raising his voice.
The two friends looked at one another in silence.
I will beg, if I have to, Zed decided. But his friend acted first.
Slowly, Vince went down on his knees. “I know you are hurting, and I know how difficult it is to think. When they killed Lucia … I …” Vince shuddered from recalling the horrible memory. “I killed them. I took three lives in an instant, and never gave it another thought.”
Zed shifted, his discomfort about the moment briefly distracting him from the anger.
“I’m not asking you to let it go,” Vince continued. “But I am begging you to think about the consequences. There is no justice in what happened, but one day, we can do something about it. One day, we will have the power to change the world, and then we can right at least some of the wrongs.”
It was now Zed’s turn to look at his friend silently. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure what to say.
“All I am asking,” Vince said while looking into Zed’s eyes, “is that you wait until the moment is right.”
“I can’t. I can’t wait for years, for a day that might never come,” Zed said, finally finding his voice. “I need you, Vince, help me, help me now.”
Vince shook his head. “I would kill for you, and I would die for you. Both of those I would do without hesitation. But I cannot condemn thousands to die for one man’s vengeance.”
Without warning, Zed charged, and caught Vince off-guard with a swift punch to the gut. Before he could land the second attack, the Lowborn countered with a grapple, and the two went down, locked in an intense struggle.