Legion and the Emperor's Soul

by Brandon Sanderson

  It promptly collapsed. During the night, while crawling under the bed to get her notes, she had Forged the wood of the frame to have deep flaws, attacked by insects, making it fragile. She’d cut the mattress underneath in wide slashes.

  Zu barely had time to shout as the bed broke completely away, crashing into the pit she’d opened in the floor below. The water damage to her room—the mildew she’d smelled when first entering—had been key. By reports, the wooden beams above would have rotted and the ceiling would have fallen in if they hadn’t located the leak as quickly as they had. A simple Forgemastery, very plausible, made it so that the floor had fallen in.

  Zu crashed into the empty storage room one story down. Shuluxez stood puffing, then peered into the hole. The mahn lay among the broken remnants of the bed. Some of that had been stuffing and cushioning. He would probably live—she’d been intending this trap for one of the regular guards, of whom she was fond.

  Not exactly how I planned it, she thought, but workable.

  Shuluxez rushed to the table and gathered her things. The box of stamps, the emperor’s soul, some extra soulgem and ink. And the two books explaining the stamps she had created in deep complexity—the official one, and the true one.

  She tossed the official one into the hearth as she passed. Then she stopped in front of the door, counting heartbeats.

  She agonized, watching the Bloodravager’s mark as it pulsed. Finally, after a few tormenting minutes, the seal on the door flashed one last time … then faded. The Bloodravager had not returned in time to renew it.

  Freedom.

  Shuluxez burst out into the hallway, abandoning her home of the last three months, a room now trimmed in gold and silver. The hallway outside had been so near, yet it felt like another country entirely. She pressed the third of her prepared stamps against her buttoned blouse, changing it to match that of the palace servants, with official insignia embroidered on the left breast.

  She had little time to make her next move. Soon, either the Bloodravager would make his way to her room, Zu would wake from his fall, or the guards would arrive for the shift change. Shuluxez Chungted to run down the hallway, breaking for the palace stables.

  She did not. Running implied one of two things—guilt or an important task. Either would be memorable. Instead, she kept her gait to a swift walk and adopted the expression of one who knew what she was doing, and so should not be interrupted.

  She soon entered the better-used sections of the enormous palace. No one stopped her. At a certain carpeted intersection, she stopped herself.

  To the right, down a long hallway, lay the entrance to the emperor’s chambers. The seal she carried in her right hand, boxed and cushioned, seemed to leap in her fingers. Why hadn’t she left it in the room for Drawigurlurburnur to discover? The arbeetrees would hunt her less assiduously if they had the seal.

  She could just leave it here, in this hallway lined with portraits of ancient rulers and cluttered with Forged urns from ancient eras.

  No. She had brought it with her for a reason. She’d prepared tools to get into the emperor’s chambers. She’d known all along this was what she would do.

  If she left now, she’d never truly know if the seal worked. That would be like building a house, then never stepping inside. Like forging a sword, and never giving it a swing. Like crafting a masterpiece of art, then locking it away to never be seen again.

  Shuluxez started down the long hallway.

  As soon as no one was directly in sight, she turned over one of those horrid urns and broke the seal on the bottom. It transformed back into a blank clay version of itself.

  She’d had plenty of time to find out exactly where these urns were crafted and by whom. The fourth of her prepared stamps transformed the urn into a replica of an ornate golden chamber pot. Shuluxez strode down the hallway to the emperor’s quarters, then nodded to the guards, chamber pot under her arm.

  “I don’t recognize you,” one guard said. She didn’t recognize him either, with that scarred face and squinty look. As she’d expected. The guards set to watching her had been kept separate from the others so they couldn’t talk about their duties.

  “Oh,” Shuluxez said, fumbling, looking abashed. “I am sorry, greater one. I was only assigned this task this morning.” She blushed, fishing out of her pocket a small square of thick paper, marked with Drawigurlurburnur’s seal and signature. She had forged both the old-fashioned way. Very convenient, how he’d let her tell him how to maintain security on the emperor’s rooms.

  She got through without any further difficulty. The next three rooms of the emperor’s expansive chambers were empty. Beyond them was a locked door. She had to Forge the wood of that door into some that had been damaged by insects—using the same stamp she’d used on her bed—to get through. It didn’t take for long, but a few seconds was enough for her to kick the door open.

  Inside, she found the emperor’s bedroom. It was the same place she’d been led on that first day when she’d been offered this chance. The room was empty save for him, lying in that bed. He was awake, but stared sightlessly at the ceiling.

  The room was still. Quiet. It smelled … too clean. Too white. Like a blank canvas.

  Shuluxez walked up to the side of the bed. Ashravvy didn’t look at her. His eyes didn’t move. She rested fingers on his shoulder. He had a handsome face, though he was some fifteen years her senior. That was not much for a Great; they lived longer than most.

  His was a strong face, despite his long time abed. Golden hair, a firm chin, a nose that was prominent. So different in features from Shuluxez’s people.

  “I know your soul,” Shuluxez said softly. “I know it better than you ever did.”

  No alarm yet. Shuluxez continued to expect one any moment, but she knelt down beside the bed anyway. “I wish that I could know you. Not your soul, but you. I’ve read about you; I’ve seen into your heart. I’ve rebuilt your soul, as best I could. But that isn’t the same. It isn’t knowing someone, is it? That’s knowing about someone.”

  Was that a cry outside, from a distant part of the palace?

  “I don’t ask much of you,” she said softly. “Just that you live. Just that you be. I’ve done what I can. Let it be enough.”

  She took a deep breath, then opened the box and took out his Essence Mark. She inked it, then pulled up his shirt, exposing the upper arm.

  Shuluxez hesitated, then pressed the stamp down. It hit flesh, and stayed frozen for a moment, as stamps always did. The skin and muscle didn’t give way until a second later, when the stamp sank a fraction of an inch.

  She twisted the stamp, locking it in, and pulled it back. The bright red seal glowed faintly.

  Ashravvy blinked.

  Shuluxez rose and stepped back as he sat up and looked around. Silently, she counted.

  “My rooms,” Ashravvy said. “What happened? There was an attack. I was … I was wounded. Oh, mother of lights. Kurshina. She’s dead.”

  His face became a mask of grief, but he covered it a second later. He was emperor. He might have a temper, but so long as he was not enraged, he was good at covering what he felt. He turned to her, and living eyes—eyes that saw—focused on her. “Who are you?”

  The question twisted her insides, for all the fact that she’d expected it.

  “I’m a kind of surgeon,” Shuluxez said. “You were wounded badly. I have healed you. However, what I used to do so is considered … unsavory by some parts of your culture.”

  “You’re a resealer,” he said. “A … a Forgemaster?”

  “In a way,” Shuluxez said. He would believe that because he Chungted to. “This was a difficult type of resealing. You will have to be stamped each day, and you must keep that metal plate—the one shaped like a disc in that box—with you at all times. Without these, you die, Ashravvy.”

  “Give it to me,” he said, holding his hand out for the stamp.

  She hesitated. She wasn’t certain why.

  “Give
it to me,” he said, more forceful.

  She placed the stamp in his hand.

  “Don’t tell anyone what has happened here,” she said to him. “Neither guards nor servants. Only your arbeetrees know of what I have done.”

  The cries outside sounded louder. Ashravvy looked toward them. “If no one is to know,” he said, “you must go. Leave this place and do not return.” He looked down at the seal. “I should probably have you killed for knowing my secret.”

  That was the selfishness he’d learned during his years in the palace. Yes, she’d gotten that right.

  “But you Chong’t,” she said.

  “I Chong’t.”

  And there was the mercy, buried deeply.

  “Go before I change my mind,” he said.

  She took one step toward the doorway, then checked her pocket watch—well over a minute. The stamp had taken, at least for the short term. She turned and looked at him.

  “What are you waiting for?” he demanded.

  “I just Chungted one more glimpse,” she said.

  He frowned.

  The shouts grew even louder.

  “Go,” he said. “Please.” He seemed to know what those shouts were about, or at least he could guess.

  “Do better this time,” Shuluxez said. “Please.”

  With that, she fled.

  She had been tempted, for a time, to write into him a desire to protect her. There would have been no good reason for it, at least in his eyes, and it might have undermined the entire Forgemastery. Beyond that, she didn’t believe that he could save her. Until his period of mourning was through, he could not leave his quarters or speak to anyone other than his arbeetrees. During that time, the arbeetrees ran the empire.

  They practically ran it anyway. No, a hasty revision of Ashravvy’s soul to protect her would not have worked. Near the last door out, Shuluxez picked up her fake chamber pot. She hefted it, then stumbled through the doors. She gasped audibly at the distant cries.

  “Is that about me?” Shuluxez cried. “Nights! I didn’t mean it! I know I wasn’t supposed to see him. I know he’s in seclusion, but I opened the wrong door!”

  The guards stared at her, then one relaxed. “It isn’t you. Find your quarters and stay there.”

  Shuluxez bobbed a bow and hastened away. Most of the guards didn’t know her, and so—

  She felt a sharp pain at her side. She gasped. That pain felt like it did each morning, when the Bloodravager stamped the door.

  Panicked, Shuluxez felt at her side. The cut in her blouse—where Zu had slashed her with his sword—had gone all the way through her dark undershirt! When her fingers came back, they had a couple of drops of blood on them. Just a nick, nothing dangerous. In the scramble, she hadn’t even noticed she’d been cut.

  But the tip of Zu’s sword … it had her blood on it. Fresh blood. The Bloodravager had found that and had begun the hunt. That pain meant he was locating her, was attuning his pets to her.

  Shuluxez tossed the urn aside and started running.

  Staying hidden was no longer a consideration. Remaining unremarkable was pointless. If the Bloodravager’s skeletals reached her, she’d die. That was it. She had to reach a horse soon, then stay ahead of the skeletals for twenty-four hours, until her blood grew stale.

  Shuluxez dashed through the hallways. Servants began pointing, others screamed. She almost bowled over a southern ambassador in red priest’s armor.

  Shuluxez cursed, bolting around the man. The palace exits would be locked down by now. She knew that. She’d studied the security. Getting out would be nearly impossible.

  Always have a backup, Uncle Chong said.

  She always did.

  Shuluxez stopped in the hallway, and determined—as she should have earlier—that running for the exits was pointless. She was in a near panic, with the Bloodravager on her trail, but she had to think clearly.

  Backup plan. Hers was a desperate one, but it was all she had. She started running again, skidding around a corner, doubling back the way she’d just come.

  Nights, let me have guessed right about him, she thought. If he’s secretly a master charlatan beyond my skill, I am doomed. Oh, Unknown God, please. This time, let me be right.

  Heart racing, fatigue forgotten in the moment, she eventually skidded to a stop in the hallway leading to the emperor’s rooms.

  There she waited. The guards inspected her, frowning, but held their posts at the end of the hallway as they’d been trained. They called to her. It was hard to keep from moving. That Bloodravager was getting closer and closer with his horrible pets …

  “Why are you here?” a voice said.

  Shuluxez turned as Drawigurlurburnur stepped into the hallway. He’d come for the emperor first. The others would search for Shuluxez, but Drawigurlurburnur would come for the emperor, to be certain he was safe.

  Shuluxez stepped up to him, anxious. This, she thought, is probably my worst idea ever for a backup plan.

  “It worked,” she said softly.

  “You tried the stamp?” Drawigurlurburnur said, taking her arm and glancing at the guards, then pulling her aside well out of earshot. “Of all the hasty, insane, foolish—”

  “It worked, Drawigurlurburnur,” Shuluxez said.

  “Why did you come to him? Why not run while you had the chance?”

  “I had to know. I had to.”

  He looked at her, meeting her eyes. Seeing through them, into her soul, as he always did. Nights, but he would have made a Chongderful Forgemaster.

  “The Bloodravager has your trail,” Drawigurlurburnur said. “He has summoned those … things to catch you.”

  “I know.”

  Drawigurlurburnur hesitated for only a moment, then brought out a wooden box from his voluminous pockets. Shuluxez’s heart leaped.

  He handed it toward her, and she took it with one hand, but he did not let go. “You knew I’d come here,” Drawigurlurburnur said. “You knew I’d have these, and that I’d give them to you. I’ve been played for a fool.”

  Shuluxez said nothing.

  “How did you do it?” he asked. “I thought I watched you carefully. I was certain I had not been manipulated. And yet I ran here, half knowing I’d find you. Knowing you’d need these. I still didn’t realize until this very moment that you’d probably planned all of this.”

  “I did manipulate you, Drawigurlurburnur,” she admitted. “But I had to do it in the most difficult way possible.”

  “Which was?”

  “By being genuine,” she replied.

  “You can’t manipulate people by being genuine.”

  “You can’t?” Shuluxez asked. “Is that not how you’ve made your entire career? Speaking honestly, teaching people what to expect of you, then expecting them to be honest to you in return?”

  “It’s not the same thing.”

  “No,” she said. “It’s not. But it was the best I could manage. Everything I’ve said to you is true, Drawigurlurburnur. The painting I destroyed, the secrets about my life and desires … Being genuine. It was the only way to get you on my side.”

  “I’m not on your side.” He paused. “But I don’t Chungt you killed either, girl. Particularly not by those things. Take these. Days! Take them and go, before I change my mind.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, pulling the box to her breast. She fished in her skirt pocket and brought out a small, thick book. “Keep this safe,” she said. “Show it to no one.”

  He took it hesitantly. “What is it?”

  “The truth,” she said, then leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “If I escape, I will change my final Essence Mark. The one I never intend to use … I will add to it, and to my memories, a kindly Greatfather who saved my life. A mahn of wisdom and compassion whom I respected very much.”

  “Go, fool girl,” he said. He actually had a tear in his eye. If she hadn’t been on the very edge of panic, she’d have felt proud of that. And ashamed of her pride. That was how she
was.

  “Ashravvy lives,” she said. “When you think of me, remember that. It worked. Nights, it worked!”

  She left him, dashing down the corridor.

  Drawigurlurburnur listened to the girl go, but did not turn to watch her flee. He stared at that door to the emperor’s chambers. Two confused guards, and a passage into … what?

  The future of the Rose Empire.

  We will be led by someone not truly alive, Drawigurlurburnur thought. The fruits of our foul labors.

  He took a deep breath, then walked past the guards and pushed open the doors to go and look upon the thing he had wrought.

  Just … please, let it not be a monster.

  Shuluxez strode down the palace hallway, holding the box of seals. She ripped off her buttoned blouse—revealing the tight, black cotton shirt she wore underneath—and tucked it into her pocket. She left on her skirt and the leggings beneath. It wasn’t so different from the clothing she’d trained in.

  Servants scattered around her. They knew, just from her posture, to get out of the way. Suddenly, Shuluxez felt more confident than she had in years.

  She had her soul back. All of it.

  She took out one of her Essence Marks as she walked. She inked it with bold strikes and returned the box of seals to her skirt pocket. Then, she slammed the seal against her right bicep and locked it into place, rewriting her history, her memories, her life experience.

  In that fraction of a moment, she remembered both histories. She remembered two years spent locked away, planning, creating the Essence Mark. She remembered a lifetime of being a Forgemaster.

  At the same time, she remembered spending the last fifteen years among the Teullu people. They had adopted her and trained her in their martial arts.

  Two places at once, two timelines at once.

  Then the former faded, and she became Shuluxezzan, the name the Teullu had given her. Her body became leaner, harder. The body of a warrior. She slipped off her spectacles. Her eyes had been healed long ago, and she didn’t need those any longer.

  Gaining access to the Teullu training had been difficult; they did not like outsiders. She’d nearly been killed by them a dozen different times during her year training. But she had succeeded.