Emperor's Shadow (Elite Book 1)

by Yi Zhu

  Vince squatted down next to Isha, and felt her hand weakly brushing against his leg. Zed stood before him, the only clear object within his view.

  All this pain, and for what? To be misunderstood by all others? To do the deeds that taint your own soul?

  “I do this now, because I no longer have the strength to stand by and watch my whole world crash and burn for the third time. I’m sorry, Zed,” Vince confessed, as the last of his power faded away. As the air around him warmed up, he reached out, and connected with Isha’s hand. A weak squeeze from the Sentinel told him that his foolish stand wasn’t for nothing. Had Vince the ability to triumph, she could have been saved.

  A small comfort, all things considered, but Vince was grateful for it.

  Sawyn shook her head to regain focus. When X’s scream came from outside, the Shadow suddenly snapped awake, and charged out of the door with his gearbox in tow. From the brief glimpse she managed to catch, he had looked like a man possessed.

  Part of her told Sawyn to give chase, but her mind still struggled to process the information in the notebook. All that she’d been led to believe about this man, Vince, had been wrong. Under each design, blueprints drawn by Zed with painstaking detail, were the Shadow’s lighthearted comments and well-thought out analysis.

  The journal portion painted a grim tale of life filled with pain and guilt, with the weight of the world crushing a young boy’s shoulders. Orphaned, left for dead as a child, Vince had fought hard to earn what most of the world took for granted.

  Many pages in the book stuck together, fused by teardrops accumulated through years of sorrow.

  Sawyn lifted the tech-enhanced swords and felt her brother’s presence. The hilt fit perfectly in hand, as if designed with her in mind. She closed her eyes, and recalled the blueprints in the notebook. Part of the weapon reminded Sawyn of Zed’s first complete invention: the disk thrower.

  When she attempted to prime the launchers, the resistance was so high that the lever on the side of the hilt wiggled but barely budged.

  This is a weapon crafted for a Riftborn.

  Gut-wrenching screams flowed down the hall, and Sawyn took off full speed. The concentration of Fye felt unusually thin as she sped toward the commotion.

  Alchemy, Sawyn noted.

  As she came to a stop near the action, Sawyn found the Shadow erecting barriers while standing his ground.

  Fool, why isn’t he falling back?

  The body next to Vince moved, albeit barely. From the long dark hair drenched with blood and draped over the floor, Sawyn recognized Sentinel X. Vince was planning on defending her to his last breath.

  It was then that Sawyn understood the loyalty others felt toward this man.

  The scars, the journal, and now this.

  Sawyn watched as the Shadow staggered after throwing up one final barrier, and her grips on the weapons tightened. Adrenaline filled her body as emotions urged her into motion. With rapid leaps, she closed the gap toward the collapsing ice wall.

  “I do this now, because I no longer have the strength to stand by and watch my whole world crash and burn for the third time. I’m sorry, Zed,” Sawyn heard as she zipped past. At the mention of her brother’s name, time ground to a halt.

  An invisible sphere blossomed outward, and all traces of alchemy melted away without resistance. With her Rift-enhanced strength, Sawyn tried the levers once again, and this time, the gears clicked into place effortlessly.

  Within seconds, she weaved across the long, narrow hall, avoiding pools of blood on the way. The alchemists reacted to her appearance with surprise, and some of them attempted to draw weapons. Two of them hung their mouths wide as the Fye disappeared, their hands still stretched out in desperate attempts to summon lightning.

  It was already too late. Sawyn flipped a small switch on the side of the handle, and dozens of tiny projectiles shot forward. With sprays of blood, the battle was over.

  Every alchemist staggered and began falling backward, all of them dead upon impact.

  Subconsciously, Sawyn turned away to avoid watching the death she had wrought. Even before the first body hit the ground, she had already returned to Vince’s side.

  With the danger passed, Sawyn released her abilities, and felt time slowly speeding up to normal. Bones met the floor with loud crunches that echoed down the hall.

  “I have never seen a Riftborn this powerful,” Vince said, and his gaze wandered down to the weapons in her hands. “The blueprints didn’t make much sense, even as I built it.”

  Sawyn looked the Shadow in the eyes, and no longer felt any hatred. The man turned to X and began examining her injuries. “I think it was designed for me,” Sawyn answered.

  The Shadow paused in his tracks and whipped his head toward the wall. “You hear that? She lives!” he exclaimed happily, to no one.

  Sawyn looked at the madman before her, and couldn’t fight away the feeling of pity. Cries of Wolves flowed down the hallway, signaling the Sentinels’ return.

  Vince wiped the sweat off of his forehead, and let out a sigh. “You’ll be fine, Isha. The others have returned,” he whispered reassuringly to X. The Shadow reached down, and touched the spot where his new stitches had ripped open and blood was oozing through his clothes. Despite the obvious pain he must be feeling, the man appeared more concerned with the injured Sentinel.

  “I guess now you know who I am and why I came,” Sawyn said, and felt tremendous relief as the Shadow replied with a slow nod.

  “We have much to discuss, and time is running out,” he said seriously.

  Chapter 22: Crescendo

  News of the attack on the Shadow’s manor sent a shockwave throughout the Capital, as, all week long, citizens stocked up on basic necessities, in preparation for what was sure to come.

  Katherine slammed her gauntlet onto the war table, sending the wooden figurines flying in all directions. The military officers all around perked up, some shifting nervously in their chairs. “I gave you all one simple task: to find the traitors among us, to find the person responsible for the attack on the Shadow.”

  The new supreme general stood up off of her seat so fast that her chair rocked back and toppled over. As the furniture hit the floor, forgotten, Katherine scanned the room, glaring at the eight military officers in the semicircle across from her. Though some managed to meet her gaze, none dared to muster a challenge, especially considering the tension in the room.

  From behind her, Colonel Siera picked the chair up off the ground, and casually set it back in position. Ever since Emelia eloped, the loyal woman had stood fast by Katherine's side, vigilant against all dangers.

  “It is one thing to send assassins after the Shadow,” Katherine said, and began pacing around the room. As she made her round, the Elites tensed up in their chairs at her passing.

  “Curse it, during several imperial dynasties, doing so was considered a sign of respect. Any Shadow incompetent enough to fall to a rusty knife in the dark or droplet of poison in his or her tea does not deserve the important position entrusted to them. But a full-scale siege upon his residence? That’s pure treason,” Katherine said as she paced around the room. As she made her round, the Elites shuffled in their chairs, one by one. “You might have noticed the absence of several of your colleagues. When the Shadow’s manor was attacked, before the news even spread, my spymaster intercepted communications implicating four of my officers in the possible coup.”

  Katherine put a hand on the shoulder of the youngest officer, Marshall Mevine, and the unlucky man shook visibly. Nervous, Mevine closed his eyes and gulped.

  The door flew open, and in came Katherine's Riftborn, who made a straight line toward her. Mevine let out a sigh of relief, grateful for the interruption.

  “Hey, you,” she greeted the newcomer, and, for the first time, felt inconvenienced by the fact that she had never bothered to give him a name.

  The Riftborn leaned in and whispered into her ear for a moment. Without a second wasted, t
he man turned around and exited the room just as suddenly as he came.

  “Dismissed,” Katherine commanded the room, and the officers rushed to take their leave. As each member passed, they stopped to pay her a salute. Mevine was drenched in sweat as he forced a smile on the way out. Once the room cleared, Siera walked over, her face full of concern.

  “Mevine is a fool, but not a traitor,” Siera advised.

  Katherine stood perfectly still, frozen in thought. “Mother picked a hell of a time to elope,” she said, finally. Part of her expected more anger at this seemingly sudden change of events, but deep down, she knew that Emelia had earned this. So had Manus.

  In mere weeks, the stress of being the Shadow had already wreaked havoc on the calm, collected man she once loved. No, still loved. Poor, poor Vince. It took quite a toll on Manus, and now you …

  Siera reached out and gently tapped Katherine’s shoulder.

  “Gideon,” Katherine spat out. “I suspected him, of course, but he was too obvious a choice, and I expected more cleverness from him.”

  “What will you do?”

  “What I was commanded to do, wipe out the traitors,” Katherine said, and arranged the figurines on the maps on the table. “I want you to move south with the Riftborns and the remnant of Manus’s envoy, and make a straight line toward Vargi, Gideon’s home base. Apprehend the dissenters, and use any force necessary.”

  “Of course,” Siera replied. “But here in the Capital?”

  “I will strike first. With the remainder of our forces, lay waste to Gideon’s manor, and cut the head off this snake,” Katherine said decisively.

  Siera nodded, but stood her ground. The older woman looked down at the map with sorrow. “War. I had hoped once was enough for this lifetime. It’s always the same. The same struggle for dominance. Those with power seek dominion over one another, and those with nothing perish for the greed of those who should want for nothing.”

  “Some of us serve a greater cause,” Katherine countered, and flexed her hand. Had it been anyone other than Siera who spoke those words, the rebuke would have been much more violent. “Unlike the generals of old, my family has never hidden in the command tent and sent men and women to their deaths. When the fighting begins, I will be in the vanguard, exposed like any other.”

  Siera held a hand over the Fist Sigil over her heart. “Protected by alchemy and the status as an Elite. You never went through the formal training of the soldier. Do you know what the first year’s training focuses on?”

  Katherine shook her head.

  “From dusk to dawn, we are drilled, conditioned, lectured. Until, subconsciously, there was an objective that overruled all desire and instincts,” Siera said with a sigh. “To put our bodies between an Elite and harm. That is how the alchemical bloodline is preserved through all the centuries of warfare. For each stripe on an Elite’s shoulder, there are hundreds of soldiers that lie forgotten by time.”

  Siera lifted her hands and looked at them as if they were foreign to the body. “I suffered through a lifetime of hardship to climb through the ranks. My lowly birth kept me from ever becoming a general, despite my ascension to Highborn. I have a husband, two children, and a home that’s as important to me as life itself. But what haunts me till this day, is that when I see an Elite in danger, I feel the compulsion to rush forward, without regard to my own safety.” Siera clenched her fists. “Or whether I will ever see my children again.”

  Katherine looked at the woman she’d known her whole life, and didn’t know how to react. Did Siera’s loyalty come from just training? Or perhaps the subtle values imposed on her by society itself? She found herself questioning this for the first time.

  Siera walked closer and embraced Katherine gently. “Stay safe, General,” she said, and raised her hand in salute.

  No, it was much more, Katherine decided as she returned the gesture. “People will die, but …”

  Siera looked at her with a kind smile.

  “I hope it’s at least for something worthwhile,” Katherine finished.

  The older woman leaned in and kissed Katherine tenderly on the forehead. With that, the colonel walked out the door.

  With Vince gripped by madness and Siera marching south, Katherine felt herself jealous of her mother. For the first time in years, Katherine felt truly alone. But as the supreme general, she had a job to do.

  Before the day ended, countless lives would be lost. But there is no other way, the Empire must survive, she tried to convince herself.

  Chapter 23: Bond

  The city is burning.

  Neal Trevat stood on the highest point in the mountain range east of the Capital. Behind him, an army began striking camp. For the past ten days, they had marched north and avoided all major cities on the way.

  “High Ambassador.” A scout came ran up behind him with a bow.

  “It’s just Neal now. I left my title behind when we began this journey,” he corrected politely.

  “Of course,” the scout acknowledged. “Our spies have returned; there are still no signs of the former Shadow Manus or Supreme General Emelia.”

  “Thank you,” Neal said with a wave, and dismissed the scout.

  The rumors are true.

  A Sentinel had arrived two weeks prior in his manor with a sealed missive, and proved his identity as Derek, one of Vince’s most trusted. Not that it was particularly difficult for Neal to recognize the man, since he had trained all the Sentinels personally. Upon learning of Vince’s near-death at the hands of a child, the former ambassador took it as a call to action, and mobilized the Southern Coalition of Rebels.

  Speaking of the Sentinels.

  Amara marched up the hill, and came to a stop next to Neal.

  “I made contact with the other Sentinels in the city,” Amara began. “The manor was attacked by a rogue faction.”

  Neal regarded the young woman with concern. “Judging by your tone, Vince survived the ordeal?”

  The Sentinel replied with an affirmative nod. “We lost nine of us. And it seems that Mother dispatched her own agent, with the intent to kill Vince, along with the emperor.” Though it was clear she had tried to suppress it, Neal could sense the unspoken accusation and anger at the loss of her friends.

  “Oh.” Neal sighed. “I didn’t know.”

  It was the truth. Though Neal had suspected the other rebel leaders had made their own plans, he never managed to obtain enough details to form anything concrete. As for the hit on Vince, it made sense, considering the young man’s position as the Shadow.

  Communication between cells of the rebellion were limited by design—a measure to ensure the effort was more difficult to compromise as a whole. But part of Neal felt filthy for allowing a practice that endangered the members to be harmed by allies, simply due to lack of information.

  “No matter.” Amara shook her head. “It all worked out for the best … apparently. We gained a powerful Riftborn for the cause. V plans to enter the palace and challenge the emperor himself. And with any luck, topple the throne.”

  Then it will be time to strike. Against my own people, Neal thought, with a hint of regret. “How will we know when it’s time?” Neal asked.

  “If all goes well, it will be obvious,” she said, and descended the mountain.

  Neal stood alone, gazing toward the distant trails of smoke rising out of the Capital. Undoubtedly, the imperial troopers were locked in intense battle with the usurpers led by Highlord Gideon. Though this particular turn of events was working greatly in the rebels’ favor, Neal found it impossible to rejoice at so much death.

  We fight for a better world, but let’s hope there is a world left after the dust settles.

  The day is brighter than usual, Vince noted to himself as he marched toward the palace, his Sentinels moving in perfect unison closely behind. Next to him walked Sawyn, who had donned the uniform of Sentinel X. Isha had been transported South the morning following the attack, under the care of one of the finest Lowb
orn doctors in the capital. Before she was taken away, the injured but spirited lady lured Vince closer under the pretense of sharing a secret, but sneaked in a kiss on his cheek instead.

  Vince rubbed the spot where her lips had touched, and a smile appeared on his face.

  “Rather sunny day,” Sawyn commented.

  Vince looked up at the unusually thin layer of Fye in the atmosphere, and his smile faded away. “It’s because of alchemy. All over the city, alchemists are battling one another.”

  The palace gate swung open as the guards recognized the Shadow. Gigantic slabs of marble separated in the middle, set into motion by complex Fye-powered machinery. With a loud crack, the way was open, and an Imperial Guard captain greeted Vince with a wave.

  “Good morning, Lord Shadow,” the captain said with a bow. “You brought more than a hundred Sentinels with you?”

  “To reinforce the security. I have absolute confidence in your men, Captain Findel, but after my experiences of late, please excuse my paranoia,” Vince replied, and gestured to the visible bandages around his waist.

  “Of course, we all live to serve the emperor, and one can never be too careful when dealing with treasonous Elites,” the captain said, his eyes tearing up a little, touched by Vince’s apparent dedication. “I only wish that after we crush the traitor Gideon, the Lord Shadow can finally take some time to heal.”

  With the captain’s blessing, the group entered the palace grounds. As the last Sentinel passed through, the gate snapped shut.

  “Take your positions, and help secure the perimeter!” Vince commanded loudly. Immediately, all the Sentinels divided into teams of half a dozen, and dispersed throughout the compound.

  With Sawyn by his side, Vince entered through the palace doors.

  Vince pushed against the throne room entrance, and the door creaked open. Emperor Darius sat atop his throne, surrounded by ten Elites fresh from the Academy. At Vince’s entrance, the Ivy Sigil-wielding killers entered into battle formation, with their hands stretched forward.