by Yi Zhu
Isha looked back at him with a soft smile.
“Isha,” Vince continued, “you are what changed me into who I am.”
“The day you found me?” she asked.
“Saving you was the first selfless thing I remember doing. You know how it was as an orphan: You either lived for yourself, or you died like the rest.” Vince’s hands locked with hers. “I thought about leaving you behind that day, everything I’d learned told me to do just that.”
Vince paused briefly, and part of him expected Isha to be upset, but her smile did not waver. “But I couldn’t do it. When I looked at you, I saw your future if I chose to leave. It was you who made me look up into the heavens and finally cry out: ‘Enough’.”
“Yes, you are my big hero,” Isha teased. “Why are you telling me all this now?”
“Because I see you as the symbol of everything pure. And I … I am tainted. You are my center, Isha, the one I hold on to, to keep my sanity. You are the proof of my humanity.”
Isha looked back at him, and wiped away her tears. “Oh, please, you are so full of yourself. Is that you telling me you are not interested in me? Pfft, so melodramatic.” She snickered. “In what world do you think an evil old man like you can land a beauty such as myself?” She flicked her hair for emphasis.
She is pretty, Vince admitted, but Isha’s mannerism caught him completely off guard.
A faintly familiar feeling crept up on Vince and took over his body. To his own surprise, Vince laughed. Not the subtle chuckle, or the fake smile as part of his facade, but true, uninhibited laughter. The volume was so high that the bystanders all around paused in their tracks briefly to glance over. But, for the first time in years, Vince didn’t care about who might see him, or what might happen next. Even as his belly ached, he felt content.
“Vince,” Isha said finally, as he settled down. “Your life is hard, and your path seems impossible. But you know we are here for you, right?”
He nodded.
“You don’t have to be alone, never again,” Isha said as she gave his hands one more squeeze.
Never again ...
“We’ll be back soon, when the time is right. You love us, Vince, I know that. But you have to trust us, not just to have your back, but to be able to take care of ourselves.”
Isha let go of Vince’s hand, and she perked up cheerfully as she turned to leave. “Well! It’s awkward to drag out these things. Don’t get in trouble while we are gone! And who knows, maybe when we come back, we’ll protect you instead.”
Chapter 18: Monster
“Six days prior, reports from Zone 841 indicated that a rogue faction of the population had made an attempt on the life of Elite Falek Damen, Liege lord of 84x. Though the assassins failed in their mission, they managed to take the life of another Elite under Falek’s employment. By imperial law Section 831 … protocol demanded… retaliation must be swift, and effective.
The mission is extremely dangerous, and I, Resident Scholar Venin of 84x, request the matter to brought to the Shadow, Dr. Manus. I would normally be hesitant to suggest such a drastic course of action, but the situation is dire, as the criminals are well trained and armed.
- Venin Onele
I have considered your request carefully, and decided that it is best not to bother the Shadow at this time. Instead, I have commissioned the service of a new Elite, Vince. He will arrive within the week and take care of the problem.
Should he fail in this mission, I will send over an abundance of aid, both physical, and financial. I hope we have an understanding.
• Highlord Gideon”
An exchange of documents, recovered by Sentinel XXI.
Sawyn’s mind struggled to process the horrifying details in the pages before her.
Civilians, elderly, the children. He spared no one.
So far, she had only gone through half of the piles on the desk, but Vince’s kill count had already gone well over the hundreds. And all of that was within a single year. In the service of the crown, he had raided tinkers, crushed dissenters, even performed public executions.
Bastard, Sawyn thought angrily. But in a way, reading about Vince’s sins allowed Sawyn to come to terms with her mission.
She had dreamed of avenging her brother for years. When she first heard the news of Zed’s death from Mother, Sawyn had refused to believe it. But as reality sank in, and her loneliness intensified, it was only the thought of vengeance that filled her void.
She was so close now. In the same house as the man who shattered her world, it was the waiting that killed her. But the others were right. She had to wait.
What was another month for a vendetta years in the making?
Sawyn turned the page, and scanned the facts. Here was another mission undergone by Vince. Performed solo, completed with efficiency, and high body count. An inner voice raised an interesting question: are the reports proof of the evil within the Shadow, or simply a product of others conspiring to kill him through brutal, suicidal missions?
The latter possibility made perfect sense. Here was a man born … different, at least from those in power. Through immense sacrifice and talents, he rose through the ranks, but who among the Elites would trust in a man, who, by his very existence, threatened the ideals on which the Empire was founded: That those born with Alchemy are the only ones fit to rule?
This train of logic raised another question that Sawyn quickly dismissed.
No. He is not a victim of the system, just another evil man who deserves what will come, she decided harshly.
Sawyn slammed the book shut, startling the Sentinel, who had continued reading his novel hours before, when he realized Sawyn was there to stay.
Eager to find a distraction, Sawyn smiled toward Sentinel II. “Sorry, reports make for dry reading.”
Perhaps I can probe him for information.
The masked man faced her without saying a word. Though from his posture, Sawyn assumed the man was smiling back.
“What’s your name?” she inquired.
“Sorry, we can’t talk about that,” he replied with a shrug.
“Why did you start working here?” she continued.
“That one either.”
Sawyn leaned back in her chair, and regarded him with interest. “Fair enough,” she conceded with a grin. “No details then. You are taking a rather long break, aren’t you?”
The Sentinel shrugged once again, his friendly demeanor looking strange in his lethal-looking uniform. “When our lord is out of the house, we are allowed to act upon our own discretion. And we already have the perimeter adequately manned, so some light reading was in order.”
“The Shadow would accept reading a romantic novel as your explanation?” Sawyn asked, surprised.
“Who do you think recommended this book?” he answered, nonchalant.
Just when I thought these people couldn’t be any more strange… Her interest piqued, she leaned forward, to continue the conversation.
A wolf’s cry sounded in the distance, and the Sentinel went stiff with attention. The noise then began repeating itself. As the third cry began, the man leapt up with haste, and bolted out the door, full speed.
Sawyn saw the novel tossed on the ground, forgotten. Something urgent had happened, that much was obvious. Shoving the reports aside, she followed suit, heading out the door, toward the commotion.
A large metal cart rushed down the courtyard, carrying an unconscious figure. Dozens of Sentinels flanked the transport as the entire group hurried toward Vince’s bedchamber. Even from a distance, Sawyn could see that it was the Shadow himself who was injured, and judging by the Sentinels crowded around him, the condition was critical.
To give the Sentinels credit, though obviously worried, those guarding the perimeter stood their ground. Most of them either clutched hands to their chest, or heads; their postures alone betrayed the genuine concern over the fate of that man.
They really care for him, Sawyn noted, as she fell in with the
cart.
Though Vince still clung to life, his breathing appeared labored and face feverish. Bandages wrapped around his waist tightly, but failed to stem the loss of blood. Despite the odds stacked against him, the Shadow fought on.
The group arrived inside Vince’s chambers, and the Sentinels moved him into his bed gently, using a stretcher. A frenzied panic ensued, as they sorted through the medicine supply for anything helpful.
“We sent for the medic, but she was found dead in her clinic,” someone cried out.
X pulled out a bottle of medicine, and mixed the content into a bowl of water.
Venirn Grass. Great for easing pain, but wrong for this situation.
Before the Sentinel could administer the drug, Sawyn intercepted. Her brother’s killer would have to die for his sins, but not today. “That will make the bleeding worse. Please, let me handle this.”
Though Sawyn never studied in the Academy, Mother made sure to pass on all of her knowledge. The amount of information Sawyn had learned over the years was so vast, it made her wonder how anyone could handle the curriculum firsthand. Despite resenting the boring lectures, and procrastinating frequently, much to Mother’s frustration, Sawyn eventually learned to appreciate the value of expertise.
Sentinel X looked into Sawyn’s confident eyes, and conceded.
Sawyn rolled up her sleeves. “I will need the medical kit and your knife.”
The Sentinels quickly gathered everything she required.
Vince twisted and groaned in pain, and Sawyn put a hand on his forehead. The moment they touched, the injured Shadow mumbled deliriously. “Lucia?”
What?
Sawyn wet a towel, and placed it over his head. The patient was running an extremely high fever, while the body fought to stay alive. “Cut off his clothes, and cover him with something thin; he is heating up.”
Several Sentinels produced blades and, with a few concise cuts on the fabric, removed the uniform. With the outer layer gone, X sliced through the straps that held the Rudium chainmail together. As two others gently lifted Vince’s upper body, X removed the armor. After she tossed the priceless weave aside, X grabbed an extra bed sheet, and tenderly draped it over the uninjured parts of the Shadow.
With the knife, Sawyn cut away the makeshift bandage, and began treating the wound.
The injury is bad, but he will live.
“Lucia?” Vince repeated, weakly.
Though the situation was urgent, the softness of his voice gave Sawyn pause. There was so much sorrow behind his cry, a tragic longing. It reminded her of her brother, back in the years they spent in the South. With the same heartbreaking tone, Zed used to call out night after night for the parents he lost.
Focus, Sawyn, she reprimanded herself, and hovered the bottle of pungent disinfectant over the wound. Though the resulting pain was sure to be excruciating, it was a necessary step to ensure the man didn’t perish from an infection. As she tipped the container, Sawyn instinctively flinched, and braced herself for the violent reaction that was bound to come.
Vince spasmed briefly as the liquid flowed across the opening, but he did not scream.
At Sawyn’s direction, several Sentinels moved to apply clean bandages, as she listed the items to be acquired from the dead medic’s clinic.
In moments, the room cleared out, and left Sawyn alone with the patient. Knowing that there was nothing she could do without more supplies, she took a deep breath and looked at the man twisting and rambling before her.
“Lucia,” he begged, and his hand reached out slowly.
The rush of adrenaline faded away, and Sawyn regarded him coldly. She wasn’t about to feel sorry for this man. She refused to. But why didn’t he scream? Sawyn puzzled. Sawyn ignored his outstretched hand, and instead pulled back the thin sheet that covered the rest of his upper body.
Sawyn was strong, of that she had no doubt. Death, pain, suffering, she was no stranger to such human miseries. But despite her dulled sensitivity to such things, what she beheld now shocked Sawyn into a gasp.
How can anyone live with so many?
Though she failed to see them during the heat of the moment earlier, dozens of scars covered Vince’s body. Some of them looked so old that much of it had faded away. But Sawyn could deduce from what remained how grievous the original wounds must have been.
And how much pain he endured.
For a brief moment, her hatred for the Shadow was put on hold, and Sawyn was forced to ask herself the question she had dismissed earlier. She pulled up a chair next to the bed, and settled herself down. Despite her best efforts, Mother’s note was beginning to make sense. In a way, Sawyn was beginning to understand that maybe the Shadow wasn’t as evil as his actions portrayed him to be.
This man, Vince. Is he really a cold-blooded murderer, or another victim of this messed up world?
Sawyn let out a sigh of relief. Vince’s wounds had closed, and his condition was finally stable, after three days of intensive care. But despite the physical recovery, he still seemed trapped inside a prison of his memories.
At various points, Sawyn heard him cry out her brother’s name, but despite her every effort to combat the fever, the ramble continued. Exhausted, Sawyn sat down in the chair and did her best to relax.
A gloved hand extended before her face with a fresh jug of water. Gratefully, Sawyn accepted the container and took a hearty swig.
“Thank you,” Sawyn said, feeling slightly more refreshed.
Sentinel X nodded and set the jug down on the nightstand. She slipped off her gloves with a practiced motion and sat down on the other side of the bed. Like she’d done for the past three days, X held Vince’s hand tenderly and simply sat in silence.
“You don’t have to be here, you know,” Sawyn said. “I mean, no offense, just that he will be fine.”
X lifted Vince’s hand up and pressed it to her mask.
“You don’t have do that,” Sawyn said, and began to get up. “I can leave, if you wish to be alone with him. Without the…” She gestured toward X’s headgear.
The Sentinel regarded Sawyn for a few seconds, and then shook her head. X reached behind her head, and unlatched a hook. With the straps loosened, the mask fell away to reveal a young, determined face. Though she looked proud, the bags under the eyes showed just how sleep-deprived X had been.
Beautiful, Sawyn thought, and although it was not appropriate for the situation, felt just a bit self-conscious.
Once again, X lifted Vince’s hand up, and kissed it tenderly.
“Thank you for saving his life,” X said, turning to Sawyn.
“It wasn’t easy.”
“I know,” X agreed. “He was bleeding out rather fast.”
Sawyn took a deep breath. She was so tired, of sitting here, of waiting, but most importantly, of the lies. “No, it wasn’t that.”
X tilted her head, confused.
Without the mask on, the Sentinel looked almost childish. Despite the blood on X’s hands, there was an aura of innocence about her that Sawyn found strangely comforting. “I … he killed someone I used to know. He killed a lot of people,” Sawyn admitted, to her own surprise.
“Yet you still saved him. Thank you,” X said, sincerely.
An awkward silence followed. But Sawyn was glad to let the truth out, at least part of it.
“Are you two … together?” Sawyn asked, eager to break the tension.
X’s face flushed bright pink, and she shook her head. “I love him, and he loves us. But we are not in love. If that makes sense.” She finished with a nervous chuckle.
“‘Us’?”
X answered with a shrug. “This is kind of awkward, but I think he likes you.”
“What?” Sawyn blurted.
“He used to dream about you, all the time. Because you saved his life a long time ago too,” X said, with what Sawyn suspected to be a hint of jealousy.
Does this woman honestly think that’s romance? Sawyn pondered. Then again, I know noth
ing about romance, except from books…
“He trusts you, he cares about you, even cooked for you. He hates cooking,” X continued. “And when he talks about the dreams … he smiles. Oh, and you are the first person he kissed.”
What? “It didn’t count; he wasn’t breathing at the time!” Sawyn protested.
“Oh, so it was a one-sided kiss.”
Sawyn almost yelled out of frustration, until she realized that X was joking around. Instead, she laughed. We both need this, after the last few days.
“I know you might hate him,” X said, suddenly serious. “But he always has a strong reason for what he does. Most of the time, he forces himself to do unthinkable things, just so that the rest of us won’t have to.”
“There’s always a choice,” Sawyn countered half-heartedly. Deep down, she had seen enough in her lifetime to know that was not always true.
“He could have walked away. But then someone else would have to step in and suffer through the consequences. Vince might get away clean, but he wouldn’t forgive himself for bloodying the hands of another,” X said, and leaned closer to the bed. “In a way, it’s ironic. He chose to be a monster, because he is a good man.”
X stood up.
“The best I know,” she concluded sadly. “I have to attend to my duties. Please get some rest.”
With that, the Sentinel left the room.
Sawyn sat quietly in her chair, eyes focused on the scars all over Vince’s body. For hours, she mulled over what X had said, until the fatigue caught up to her and pulled Sawyn into blissful slumber.
Sawyn jerked awake to screams in the distance. Alarmed, she stood up and armed herself with the medical scalpel. Next to her, Vince was still unconscious and mumbling.
“Vince,” she said to him with a gentle nudge on the shoulder, but received no response.
Footsteps echoed throughout the hallway outside, and Sawyn readied herself for combat. The door burst open, and X rushed in.
“Help me move him to the study, quickly,” the Sentinel said, urgently.