Emperor's Shadow (Elite Book 1)

by Yi Zhu

  “Vince!” Darius cried out. “You are all right!” He waved his hand downward, and the Elites relaxed visibly, yet did not break their ranks. “I knew you would make it, my friend.”

  Darius took one step forward, but didn’t move far from the throne. There was a certain crack in the emperor’s voice that betrayed extreme fatigue. Darius’s right hand hovered near the armrest, and Vince saw the intricate wires that connected a trigger to dozens of gas tanks scattered around the room. With a flip of the switch, Fye would flood the room, providing a constant stream of fuel to power the alchemists.

  The emperor was prepared for battle.

  “Don’t you worry, Vince, we will hunt down Gideon, and then the throne will be secure,” Darius promised, smiling warmly. Even from a distance, Vince could sense that something was amiss. Figures moved behind him with alarming speed, and Vince whipped his head around, to find another dozen Elites standing menacingly between him and the door. Suddenly, the concentration of Fye thinned considerably.

  “Vince,” Sawyn warned, and began moving forward. He held her back with a gentle touch on the arm.

  “Why?” Vince called out.

  “I’m sorry, my friend,” Darius began, genuine hints of regret in his voice. “I didn’t want to acknowledge it, but the other Elites … They were right. Gideon’s treason, the unprecedented level of dissent, none of it would have happened if not for your ascension.”

  Darius fell back into his seat, and turned away. “For years, they tolerated your presence in the academy. If you had become a Scholar, or a Fist, we would have accepted you into Highborn society with open arms … But you actually manifested alchemy. You are the symbol of what we feared most.”

  How bitter the irony, Vince thought to himself. Though he tried to stay calm, anger gained its grip on him, and refused to let go.

  “So you set me up to fail,” Vince howled. “You knew that one day you would have to take me down.”

  “You could have died a hero!” Darius argued. “The most famous Lowborn to have ever lived. To fall in the defense of the Empire, as the Shadow … You would have been revered as a legend, your story passed down through the ages in the Academy as the perfect bridge between high society and the Lowborn.”

  “You are mad,” Vince said with pity.

  “I did all of this for you!” Darius jumped up once again, his fingers grazing the gas tank release trigger. “They wanted you killed in your sleep, but somehow, the attempts all failed miserably. Katherine … That foolish girl made it her mission to keep you safe. So I named you my Shadow, a duty that has brought great men and women to ruin, but somehow … here you are.” Darius looked around at the envoy, his eyes shifting insanely.

  Vince nodded. “There’s just one thing I would like to ask you: Had you not inherited the throne, what would you have done? If you didn’t have to shoulder the burden of rule?”

  Darius looked up, and their eyes met. The tension in the room threatened to explode as the standoff occurred in silence. Finally, Darius sighed. “Perhaps, in another lifetime, we can remain friends,” he confessed, and flipped the switch.

  All at once, the Elites began funneling Fye into their bodies. The gas flowed out from the tanks, and all the containers were immediately depleted.

  Vince reached out, and looked at Sawyn. With a nod, she opened her arms, and the two locked in a firm embrace. The Shadow closed his eyes in concentration, and began summoning Fye.

  “Lucia,” Vince whispered, as the memories of his sister once again unlocked his potential. An alchemist is only as powerful as their body's tolerance for alchemical byproducts. Unlike his opponents, Vince had successfully pushed his body beyond the limit once before.

  Cries of surprise echoed throughout the room as the envoy moved to attack. Though their movements were well-rehearsed, and their execution perfect, the source of their power was suddenly ripped away.

  The windows of the throne room shattered simultaneously as Fye from the atmosphere forced its way past all obstacles toward the Shadow. Excruciating pain began mounting in Vince’s body, as the chemical byproduct skyrocketed way beyond the lethal dose. Any moment now, his body should cease to function. As Vince’s muscles spasmed, Sawyn squeezed him tight.

  “This one is for my brother,” Sawyn said softly, and her Riftborn abilities manifested with unprecedented intensity. Every smile Zed ever directed at her, every comforting memory she had ever created with the foolish young boy all surfaced at once. Instead of focusing on neutralizing the Fye, Sawyn recalled the feelings she felt during her repeated visits to the Great Divide. Her aim was simple, to purify the alchemical byproducts inside the Shadow.

  Unimaginable amounts of Fye continued to funnel into the Shadow’s body, and coursed through his system. With each rapid beat of his heart, staggering amounts of Fye went through the conversion process, leaving only energy as the cycle continued at a backbreaking pace.

  Power, Vince thought, even as his body shook and his teeth rattled.

  Lucia’s phantom appeared as the alchemy-induced madness returned to Vince’s mind. “Fight through the pain, Brother; just a few more seconds, then you can be free.”

  Tears flowed down the Shadow’s cheeks as Vince expended every ounce of his strength and will to contain the alchemy now raging within.

  “You lived up to your promise, my dear brother,” the apparition said tenderly. “This is truly the power that can change the world.”

  Chapter 24: Remembrance

  Outside the Capital, Neal straightened the collar of a boy barely over fifteen. This young farmer, like the thousands of others behind him, risked everything in this difficult struggle for independence. The march north took a toll on everyone, but none more than on the Southern Rebels, who had spent their whole lives under the clear skies. Though no one would admit it to Neal, he could tell that the relative darkness in the North cast a net of gloom over the brave soldiers. During the treacherous journey, almost a third of their ranks had collapsed from breathing in too much Fye and were forced to return to the South. Yet, despite the low morale, the army stayed intact.

  The boy gave a nod of thanks, and Neal continued making his way around the army, offering gestures of encouragement.

  Little good it’s doing, Neal noted regretfully. They are trained, but most of them are not killers.

  Even with the fighting inside the Capital, and the surprisingly strong resistance Gideon’s faction had presented against the Royal Army, the rebels were still in for quite a fight.

  Leaders from other cells had finally begun communication, and if the words could be trusted, five different armies were in position, ready to charge into the city. Though victory was not guaranteed, by far, this appeared to be the strongest rebellion to date.

  Once again, Neal looked behind himself, at the thousands who stood firmly, united by their vision. No matter what happened next, the former ambassador was impressed by the tenacity of these people.

  The farmer boy looked up suddenly, his face full of surprise. Cries of joy rang out all around the ranks, as the soldiers perked up with renewed energy.

  Neal whipped his head around, and followed the crowd’s gaze.

  Impossible! he thought in shock, as a vortex formed miles away, in the sky above the palace. The atmosphere seemed to shimmer, as sunlight broke through the barrier and flooded in through the opening. Having readjusted to the dimmer environment of the North, Neal covered his eyes as the brightness made him flinch. To the citizens of the North, the surge of light must have been blinding.

  As quickly as it had come, the anomaly disappeared. Fye from all around rushed to fill in the gap, and within seconds, the sky appeared as if it had never been torn open mere moments before. Not even Emelia’s bloodline has such terrifying command of alchemy, so it must be an extremely large congregation of Elites. If this theory was correct, the odds would be stacked impossibly against the rebels, when the army clashed with the source of that power.

  Just as Neal’s res
olve began to crack, a loud boom shook the ground below. Alarmed, he looked toward the hill nearby and watched as a young female scout made a rapid descent. So eager was she to report the news that the steep decline nearly claimed her life many times over. A tense silence washed over the entire army as every pair of eyes set upon her movements. While she closed the gap, Neal saw the look of pure exuberance on her face.

  “The palace! It’s gone!” she cried out, massaging her arm, bruised in the excitement.

  What?

  “The blast!” she continued, and looked toward the crowd eagerly. “A gigantic blast made the building crack, and then it just crumbled!” she shouted at the top of her lungs.

  At the news, the Southerners perked up with renewed purpose.

  Vince, he did it, Neal thought. Though the old elite couldn’t fathom how it had occurred, the young Shadow had wrought tremendous amount of destruction upon the empire. And most importantly, he gave the rebels hope.

  Another scout ran up from the direction of the Capital, and Neal moved up to receive him.

  “Most of the troops are moving away from the gate, farther into the city,” the man reported, out of breath from the frantic run.

  Undoubtedly, the imperial soldiers had gone to investigate the explosion. The other rebel leaders had likely seen the sudden change in fortune, and began to move on the city as well.

  Everything was happening all at once, and for the first time, looking at the young faces of the rebels, Neal felt like an old man. Slowly ,he raised his fist, and felt the thrill of the moment fill his heart.

  “People of the South, I am not one for speeches,” Neal began, as thousands listened in perfect silence. “You all came here to fight for a common purpose, the one thing that’s been denied to you for countless centuries. Our brothers- and sisters-in-arms have undoubtedly begun besieging the city from all sides, and I will soon lead you into the fray. Nothing is for certain, but there is one thing I can tell you: Never before has any rebellion come so far, never before has any Southern army marched into the Capital. No matter what, we have set an unforgettable precedent. Even should we fall, the seed has been sown... Freedom has taken root.” With that, Neal turned toward the gate and began picking up his pace.

  A boy’s cheer broke the silence, followed by sounds of boots hitting the dirty road. Within seconds, row by row, the entire army began gradually speeding up to a run.

  Regardless of the outcome, history would be made this day. But as Neal ran toward the familiar city, the thought on his mind was bittersweet …

  I’m home.

  Where did these blasted rebels come from? Katherine cursed, as she signaled the ceasefire.

  “This is our chance to wipe out the rest of Gideon’s forces!” Mevine protested.

  Katherine was in no mood to deal with stupidity, especially not in a moment like this. But to give the young man credit, the marshal had stuck close to her back, and sustained two sword wounds for her protection.

  Not that I needed it...

  She shook her head. “The rebels are coming in from all directions; if we keep engaging the enemy we will be trapped in the middle.”

  “Where will we go?”

  Katherine looked across the battlefield as Gideon’s forces struggled to retreat toward the South.

  “The palace has fallen … literally, and we lost contact with the Royal Guards,” Mevine reminded her.

  Though Katherine loathed the idea of a retreat, the current situation was extremely dire. With the Imperial Army’s main forces scattered across the vast empire, and those stationed in the Capital weakened from Gideon’s treason, the surprisingly large rebel forces posed a legitimate danger. She looked around at the burning city, and the devastation barely registered on her mind.

  I hope Vince is okay, Katherine thought as she realized that the Sentinels had been absent from all the fighting. But for now, she had no choice other than to preserve as much of her force as possible.

  She pointed toward the South. “We’ll follow Gideon’s army.”

  “But you just—” Mevine began, confused.

  “We’ll keep them in sight, but keep at the maximum visible distance. They will have to fight their way out, past the rebels. Let those traitors suffer most of the casualties.”

  At Katherine’s command, the Imperial Army marched South, on the heels of Highlord Gideon. Soon, the supreme general planned to join up with Siera and rally the bulk of the Imperial forces. Once the odds were once again in her favor, she planned to return to the Capital in force, and search for the Shadow.

  You better stay alive, Vince.

  Amidst the chaos raging within the Capital, and the various factions battling for supremacy and survival, the citizens of the city paid little heed to the orphans roaming the street. Even the soldiers paid them no mind, leaving the children free to scavenge.

  A man and a woman, both donning Sentinel uniforms, watched from an alley as the Lowborns rushed past to take up arms against their Highlord. Occasionally, a child would poke his or her head in, but often, one look at the masks and grapple gear was enough to deter the curious young minds.

  What followed was a strange sight to all who stumbled across the scene. Slowly, the man knelt down, and reached behind his back. From inside the cloak, he pulled out a loaf of bread, oddly out of place among the huge assortment of weapons, and placed it gently on the ground.

  With his other hand, he placed a shiny piece of metal next to the food. For a few seconds, he rested silently.

  The woman put a hand on his shoulder, and the man stood up. Together, they began walking away.

  Before the duo managed to move more than a few feet, an orphan girl ran up, snatched the bread off the ground, and took a hearty bite. Upon seeing the two Sentinels stop and turn around, the bold urchin took off top speed, leaving the Sigil behind.

  “You don’t have to stay, you know; you have done enough,” the woman said, finally breaking her silence.

  The masked man watched the young child run off, taking small bites from her prize even as she ran as if her life depended on it. Then, when the girl was out of sight, he lowered his gaze to the Sigil on the ground.

  “The war has just begun.”

  Photo by Daniel Chen

  About the Author:

  After graduating from Duke University with a B.S. Degree in Economics, I spent the past few years working as a freelance photographer and filmmaker.

  Currently based in Durham, North Carolina.

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  Thelordofnerds@gmail.com

  www.ThatYiGuy.com