Emperor's Shadow (Elite Book 1)

by Yi Zhu

  Both teenagers had spent the past six years training under the best instructors in the world, and for a minute, neither could gain a decisive edge. Zed attempted to disengage off the floor, and he succeeded, for just a second. A tripping move from Vince brought Zed back onto the ground.

  “Stop,” Zed conceded, as Vince gripped him in a stranglehold.

  Immediately, the hold loosened, and both of them got off of the ground. Zed opened his mouth, but Vince stopped him by holding up a hand.

  “It’s okay,” Vince said, and dusted himself off. “I understand the rage. I can only hope that outburst helped calm you down.”

  “It did,” Zed replied coldly. “I just need some time to cool off. I’m sorry, my friend.”

  Without waiting for Vince’s reply, Zed turned and walked out of the room. The hallway was unusually quiet, and for a moment, he was afraid that the Lowborn would follow. Luckily, nothing happened as Zed walked out of the building.

  Both of his handlers flanked Zed immediately, as they always did when he wasn’t working, sleeping, or eating.

  “Lover’s quarrel?” one of them mocked, after noticing the signs of struggle on Zed’s face.

  “Asked him for a favor, but he wouldn’t do it. Stingy bastard,” Zed answered.

  Zed subtly reached into his pocket, and felt around for a moment. A grin crept up on his face as he found the prize. The sudden attack on Vince had been a diversion. Because the Lowborn refused to help, Zed had to take what he needed.

  His finger ran across a smooth cold surface, and the impression of “V41.” With Vince’s seal, and Zed’s familiarity with his friend’s handwriting, it shouldn’t be too difficult to forge a convincing note.

  One quick strike, to make the emperor feel my pain.

  For two hours, Vince twisted and turned in his bed, unable to fall asleep. Something about the meeting with Zed felt off. It was a disturbing encounter, that was for certain, but there was something about the sudden aggression that was out of place.

  Zed had always been the level-headed one, Vince noted to himself as he sat up on the bed. A small breeze sneaked in through the crack in the window, and blew away part of his sleepiness. The Lowborn rubbed his eyes, and looked around.

  This was another cold, quiet night; the only sound was the distant clinking of gears in the basement of the Academy tower. Vince threw on his jacket and walked over to his desk. To satisfy his curiosity, he reenacted the fight on both sides. As he stood up next to the table just like Zed had done, he noticed one of the drawers was partially open. Without even opening it up, the horrible realization dawned on Vince: Zed was about to carry out his revenge.

  Without hesitation, Vince bolted out of the dorm, into the courtyard. There was only one place where the Southerner could act without his handlers present, yet remained open at night: the laboratories.

  Vince ran toward the large isolated structure with all the speed he could muster, and found lights coming from the windows of his lab on the second floor.

  I just need to find him in time, and then I can talk him out of it, Vince thought as he rushed up the stairway.

  As Vince looked down the hallway, he found Darius slowly walking toward the lab.

  “Hey!” Vince cried out.

  Darius stopped in his tracks, and turned to wave.

  Then, everything happened all at once. The lab door swung open silently, and Zed launched out, toward Darius’s back. Several feet away from the prince, it was impossible for Vince to close the distance in time. Simply crying a warning wouldn’t help, as the Southerner was already too close.

  This left Vince with only two options: To allow his friend’s hericide, which might lead to the death of thousands, or he could commit the unthinkable.

  For a millisecond, Vince and Zed met each other’s gaze, and the Lowborn allowed himself the hope that his friend would have a change of heart. But even the slightest glimpse into the Southerner’s eyes told the whole story. There will be blood.

  Vince’s mind raced to consider all the possibilities, to seek any possible way out of this horrible dilemma. Once the imperials discovered the note that drew the prince here, Vince would have to explain the forgery, in the hopes that Triton would stay his hand. But chances were, the emperor wouldn’t care for his pleas.

  Isha, Derek, and all the others. They would ultimately pay the price for Zed’s vendetta. Thousands more would die, yet all Vince could think about what his family, the Wolf Gang.

  Please don’t make me choose, Vince begged silently, yet he knew no one would hear him. At the next instant, his hands felt as if they were moving on their own. With his next breath, all of his fingers pointed forward, in an offensive stance. To command the forces of alchemy, Vince must know in his mind what he desired most.

  To save lives, came the answer. Though it was killing him on the inside, Vince knew that it was the choice he had to make. As his mind set in its course, a swath of lightning blazed forth.

  Used to fighting other alchemists at range, Darius’s training kicked in, and he barrel rolled sharply to his right as Vince assumed the stance. Zed, however, froze at the sight of Vince’s alchemy. For a brief second, Vince could have sworn he saw a sorrowful smile appear on his friend’s face. It was too late to change his course, and Vince found himself unable to look away.

  The attack hit its mark with deadly force, and alchemy granted Vince his wish.

  At the price of his heart, Vince saved lives that day.

  Chapter 14: Reunion

  This was perhaps the most exciting discovery I’ve had the fortune to study in my lifetime. It was tragic that the most venerable prince had to suffer through such a terrible scare (bless his heart, I shall most definitely thank him upon my successful analysis).

  Our subject, V41, was the most fascinating specimen. As the only person recorded to survive the Awakening, the Lowborn was able to manifest alchemy at an alarmingly high level (though nothing compared to the might of the Royal bloodline, of course). Interestingly, because his body wasn’t born with the ability to process Fye, but rather acquired it through adaptation, V41 experiences certain side effects similar to those exhibited by alchemists who dared to surpass his or her own limitations.

  During our study, the subject was asked to perform various tasks involving Fye, and the results were impressive. Although I’ve noted several instances when his gaze wandered consistently to the side, as if observing something that wasn’t there.

  -Log 35, Dr. Ophilia, Head Academy Physician

  In the private chamber of his manor, Vince lay awake in his bed and stared up toward the ceiling. Though he didn’t feel tired yet, there was just so much to process. Being in bed was a great excuse for most people to leave him alone.

  There was something mysterious about that woman who had just shown up at his door, something beyond occupying his dreams.

  What do you think, my friend? Vince wondered.

  The Shadow closed his eyes and breathed deeply; with ease, he converted the chemicals in his body. A tiny jolt of electricity forked out, and switched on a single Fye-lamp in the room. A sensation of euphoria washed over him, and temporarily took away his worries. This particular feeling was just another privilege of being an alchemist.

  But as always, a short wave of nausea followed, and Vince fought to suppress it. The amount of chemicals he consumed was small, minor enough for him to recover without a headache.

  A shadowy figure made his appearance, and sat down next to him.

  “Hello, Vince. Quite a day, huh?” Zed teased, and scratched his chin. “You got pretty friendly with that prince again, did you? And the redhead?”

  Vince closed his eyes.

  “Don’t be like that,” Zed said and threw up his hands. “I’m just messing with you.”

  “The woman,” Vince said, finally.

  “What about her?” Zed replied, while casually scratching his behind.

  “There’s something unique about the way … I don’t know.”
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br />   “Dream about someone often enough, you’ll find everything about them fascinating,” Zed dismissed.

  “There’s just something familiar about her. I feel as if I knew her somehow.”

  Zed shrugged. “I don’t know any more than you do. Usually you have something more interesting to complain about.”

  “But this is complicated,” Vince countered, and turned to face Zed. “I can’t get her out of my mind. There are so many questions I want to ask her, yet it took all my will just to exchange simple pleasantries.”

  Zed stood up with an eye roll.

  “I’m the damn Shadow. I’ve bested all my opponents and done the impossible, but look at me now,” Vince said, annoyed at Zed’s apathy.

  “Like I used to say: it is lonely at the top. Little Vince is in love,” Zed replied, and disappeared into the dark corner of the room.

  “I miss you, my friend,” Vince answered after a few moments of silence, and tears streamed freely.

  For hours, he wept, until the fatigue finally caught up to him, and finally brought him reprieve.

  Vince woke up the next morning to an anguished scream in the distance. By pure reflex, he leapt to his feet, and looked around cautiously. At the same time, Sentinel X rushed in the door, and came to a sudden stop right in front of Vince. Though it was impossible to gauge her expression through the mask, the slight tilt of her helmet made Vince blush and quickly wrap the bed sheet around his waist.

  “Report,” Vince commanded, and the Sentinel went down on one knee. Awkwardly, Vince realized how close they were to each other. Subtly, he took a nimble step backward.

  “Apologies, Lord Shadow,” Sentinel X began after clearing her throat. “We caught another assassin trying to sneak his way in. This one was actually quite good, put up a fight.”

  “Was?” Vince mused, and then nodded. “One assassin, quiet night.”

  “One that got the chance to react,” Sentinel X replied, and Vince could swear he heard smugness, even through the disguised voice.

  “Any casualties on our side?” Vince asked as Sentinel X began to leave.

  “None.”

  Vince reached out and touched Sentinel X’s arm. The deadly guardian froze in her tracks, and turned to face him. Through the mask, Vince heard her breathing becoming more rapid. To the Shadow’s surprise, the sentinel rested her hand gently on his.

  “Be careful, all right?” Vince said softly.

  “Of course, V.” The sentinel took a bow. “As our Lord Shadow commands.”

  With that, Sentinel X left the room.

  Sawyn sat alone in front of a large dining table, and shifted around in her dress. At the crack of dawn, several Sentinels showed up at her door with a choice of fresh attire. The selection ranged from casual combat fatigues, to impractical formal dresses. Much to her own surprise, she selected something more toward the flashy side. She had expected the fabrics to chafe against her skin, but as she ran her hand gently across the smooth material, the softness was very pleasing to her touch.

  It’s just to help me play the role, nothing more, she assured herself as she subconsciously caressed the lining.

  Sawyn had expected servants to rush out and fill the table with extravagant and wasteful dishes. But the Shadow surprised her once again. Vince walked in from the other room, and carried with him a large mug of steaming tea. Respectfully, he poured two cups, and ducked out without saying a word. Minutes later, he returned with a large tray, and set it down slowly on the table. Efficiently, he arranged the food onto the table. Two dishes, a soup and bread made up the entire course.

  “Sorry.” He smiled apologetically. “It is rather plain.”

  Another precaution against assassins, no doubt, Sawyn noted to herself. Shifting her chair closer, she looked at the food. A pleasant aroma filled her nostrils as she breathed in softly. Though the spices and ingredients looked cheap, the meal smelled quite delicious. When she looked up, the Shadow was already shoving a large chunk of bread into his mouth.

  Vince wolfed down the bite, and scooped a large helping of the soup for himself.

  Disarmed by his casual demeanor, and hit with a sudden surge of hunger, Sawyn joined in on the meal in earnest. As she sampled each dish, Sawyn was forced to wonder if the Shadow truly enjoyed cooking. The sound of chewing was the only thing heard in the room for the next few minutes, as both of them indulged in the carefully prepared lunch.

  As Sawyn soaked up the remaining soup with bread, then threw it in her mouth, she realized how hungry the week-long journey north had made her. Sadly, by the time she finished, the same boiling anger had resurfaced within her. Her eyes wandered over to the fork next to her plate, and she fought hard to suppress the urge to attack.

  Vince wiped his mouth with a small napkin, and began slowly sipping his tea. Though rumors Sawyn picked up all claimed Vince to be an overly cautious man, Sawyn saw plenty of opportunities to take him down.

  “Aren’t you afraid of people trying to kill you?” Sawyn blurted out, then quickly cursed her lack of self-control. Though Mother had trained her meticulously in the art of conversing with high society, the Shadow’s casual manner forced her to improvise. “I’m sorry, hardly the appropriate topic during a meal,” she added quickly.

  Unfazed, Vince put down the cup, and relaxed in his chair. “I’m not part of this world,” he answered, and pointed to the Ivy Sigil pinned to his chest. “It doesn’t make surviving assassinations easier directly, but it does make it easier to suspect everyone of ill will.”

  Vince pulled back his shirt to reveal an intricately crafted Rudium chainmail undershirt. “Of course, if someone wants to go for my head, this won’t help.” He looked down at the ground. “Even though one of my friends used to tease me about my ‘thick neck’.” His face darkened briefly.

  Sawyn listened in silence, her head nodding in understanding.

  “I can count on one hand the number of people I can trust outside of this manor. But honestly, I don’t know. I just don’t have the time to ever stop and think about it,” Vince finished, and chugged the rest of his tea.

  “What about the orphans you were with?” Part of Sawyn was dying to ask him about Zed, about why Vince had done what he did. But doing this too soon would only raise suspicion.

  “Men came and attacked us in the orphanage,” Vince began, and then trailed off.

  “I’m sorry,” Sawyn said softly. “Thank you for this wonderful meal. And sorry for asking such blunt questions.”

  With a smile, Vince stood up and began clearing away the leftovers.

  Sawyn made a mental note of the Rudium chainmail, happy for the newfound intel. Eager to get away before anger got the better of her, she excused herself to explore the city.

  Vince stacked the plates gently atop one another, and breathed a sigh of relief. Carefully, he took the silverware into the kitchen, and began rinsing them with soap. Though he could easily hire a servant for this task, Vince preferred doing most of the chores himself.

  Assassins? Of course I am afraid of assassins, he thought. But not for the reason everyone else thinks.

  Unlike other Elites who had a price on their heads, Vince was not afraid to die. In fact, there were times that he wanted to. After all, he never thought he would survive a hard life for so long, only to be crushed by his responsibilities.

  As he often stood around among the movers and shakers, Vince faced ostracism, distrust, and even disgust. It didn’t bother him, however, as he aimed to topple the system anyway.

  Death isn’t nearly as terrifying as life without purpose, Vince reminded himself. If I fear death, it is the fear of breaking my promises.

  So lost was Vince inside his own head, that he barely noticed when a new presence entered the room.

  “It’s me; don’t be so touchy like last time,” Katherine announced, as she walked closer.

  Vince kept his back to Katherine, and continued washing the dishes. “I see you recovered from your hangover.”

  �
��Wow, your tone is so cold. Did I get here too late?” Katherine said, as she pressed herself against Vince’s back.

  “What do you mean?”

  “One of my servants told me that a woman arrived here late last night, and that you greeted her with open arms,” Katherine complained as she rested her chin on Vince’s shoulder. “Secret lover? Should I be jealous?”

  “Childhood friend,” Vince replied.

  “That doesn’t answer my questions,” Katherine said as she began kissing Vince’s neck softly. Her left hand wrapped around his side, and began moving down his body.

  “Katherine,” Vince protested, and looked out the window.

  “Shhh,” Katherine whispered.

  Suddenly, Vince took a step away. Katherine’s brows furrowed in surprise.

  “Not today, Kat,” Vince said, and began heading out of the room.

  Katherine moved her body to block the doorway. An expression of intense anger was apparent on her face. “Why? Is it because of that woman?”

  “If you want me, fine. Just not today.”

  “You make it sound like I force myself on you!” Katherine spat out, wounded. “What do you want, Vince? Do you want me to be with you in public? It’s political suicide!”

  “No,” Vince said. But do I truly believe that? Even when they were both young, Katherine had always been fascinated by the Lowborn champion. And one lonely night, shortly after Zed’s death, as Vince was racked by guilt, she visited him. Though she found it impossible to sympathize, she had tried, and her companionship helped take away some of his loneliness. “I just wonder if we are right for each other. I understand you, Katherine, perhaps too well. But did you ever stop to try to understand who I am?”

  “You don’t know me at all,” Katherine protested.

  “Don’t I?” Vince took a step toward Katherine.

  She raised her hand as if to strike him in anger, but couldn’t go through with it.