Shadow of the Conqueror

by Shad M Brooks

  Well, she was a knight.

  Though far more expensive Skycoaches were more common within cities than their ground-based darkstone-driven cousins as they helped decongest the streets and were much faster. The skycoach that landed in front of them was fully enclosed with fine glass windows and gold-leafed carvings embroidering its body.

  The valet opened the door for them and they entered after giving their destination to the pilot.

  Once seated, the coach softly lurched as it left the ground.

  “What was your problem just now?” Lyrah asked.

  Daylen took in a deep breath, knowing that this was a sensitive topic and that he was going to have to lie through his teeth to learn the truth.

  “Dayless. He had many women brought to him.”

  “Girls!” Lyrah spat back at him. “He raped countless young and vulnerable girls, Daylen.”

  “I know, all right? I’m not trying to lessen his crimes. Look, I’ve only recently learned that Dayless fathered children with those girls—my half brothers and sisters. Dayless himself had thought precautions were taken to prevent that. I want to meet them and see what kind of people they are. So…”

  Lyrah interrupted him and answered in a cold voice, “I never had any children.”

  Daylen nodded, feeling such great relief. “Thank you. I’m sorry for asking.”

  Lyrah looked away and stared out the window. “You have a right to know of your siblings.”

  Daylen let silence settle for a time before saying, “Blackheart was one of them.”

  “What?” she said, looking at him with wide eyes.

  “Yeah, I found irrefutable evidence. That’s how I learned I have…that I have siblings.” Not siblings—children. “I should have hundreds of them, and I just can’t help but wonder how many have turned out like Blackheart.”

  “Some, maybe.”

  “Just like their father.”

  “No,” Lyrah said. “I used to think that an evil parent would always produce corrupt children…” She struggled with emotion. “But meeting you has proven me wrong.” With wet eyes, Lyrah looked out the window of the coach, clearly not wanting to talk.

  It wouldn’t be right for him to pry, so Daylen let her be. He wondered about his children making their way in the world. He hoped that one day he would meet one who was a good person.

  Or, in other words, meet one who was nothing like himself.

  Lyrah and Daylen sat in silence until they arrived at the Prime Constabulary. Daylen was happy to be left alone with his thoughts and it looked to be the same for the knight.

  The Prime Constabulary was a long building made up of several larger square-like sections that were all joined between. It was a brick building with stone frames over all the windows and doors. The largest square section sat in front and in the middle of the rest of the building, about seven stories tall with a large double door at the front.

  Once out of the coach, it didn’t take long for a constable to notice them and race inside.

  And now I’ll get to find out how much of my past they’ve discovered is fake. Light, this might go badly.

  Daylen and Lyrah were greeted by several officials the moment they walked through the front doors.

  Daylen looked about. They stood in a large marble floored foyer that had two wide staircases on either side leading to an upper hallway. A reception desk sat in the mid-back of the room. Daylen stepped forward. “My name is Daylen Namaran. I’m here to turn myself in and answer to the charges against me.”

  “We know who you are,” a conner said, weighing a pair of manacles in his hand. “I don’t suppose there’s any point to putting these on you.”

  “Not really,” Daylen replied.

  The conner looked to Lyrah. “Thank you for escorting him, Lady Archon.”

  “I’m not an escort,” she replied smoothly. “I’m his custodian, and as such will be remaining at his side at all times.”

  “Ah, yes. Of course,” the conner replied, slightly nervous. “This way, then.”

  Many people stared at them as they were led through the constabulary, some even nodding respectfully. Daylen would have suspected this deference was aimed at Lyrah, but several people looked directly at him when doing so. One rather attractive woman even winked.

  Daylen and Lyrah were shown to a small square room that that was plaster-white and brightly lit from sunstone sconces. It had a rectangular table in the middle with two chairs on each side and a large mirror to the right wall. They were directed to sit in the chairs facing the mirror.

  Daylen could sense seven people standing in the room behind the mirror with his light sense. They were looking through the mirror as if it were glass.

  The mirror must have acted like a window from the other side. When was that invented? Daylen wondered. If sound could travel into that hidden room, those people would be able to spy on everything. It was very clever.

  Once sitting, one of the men in the spying room left and walked to enter the room with himself and Lyrah. He was a middle-aged man in a tailed suit and top hat holding a clipboard and a newspaper under his arm; a sturdy man with a round face. He had a trimmed dark-purple beard with soft streaks of green, wore a cravat and had a rapier at his side.

  The man took off his hat, revealing evenly streaked hair of dark purple and green, and dropped the broadsheet on the desk in front of Daylen.

  The paper had a drawing of Daylen front and center with the headline: Daylen, Son of the Conqueror, Defeats Blackheart!

  “You made the front page,” the man said as he sat in the chair across from them.

  “And it only took a fall from when I arrived,” Daylen replied, grabbing the paper.

  “That’s the press for you,” the man said.

  A subheading sitting at the bottom corner caught his attention. It read: Delavian Council of Dukes Deny Rumors of Having Intimate Relations with Goats.

  Daylen burst out laughing.

  “Something funny?” the man asked as he took his seat on the other side of the table.

  “Oh, the spot about the Dukes.”

  “I thought you’d be more interested in the article about you.”

  “Nah, I know that story, but the Dukes getting knocked off their high horses…that’s interesting.”

  “Yeah, sickening stuff. You think it’s true?”

  “Absolutely,” Daylen said with a grin.

  “We’d better get underway,” the man said and nodded to Lyrah. “Lady Archon, might I ask why you’re accompanying this young man?”

  “She’s my lawyer,” Daylen said.

  Lyrah didn’t look at him, but smiled and stomped on Daylen’s foot. Judging by the crack and searing pain shooting up Daylen’s leg, she broken a toe or two.

  Daylen grunted, drawing on the light from the sunstones in the room to heal. Lyrah had obviously used such force because of that, and honestly he liked that no-fuss strength about her.

  Besides, getting in that little rib was worth it.

  “I’m his custodian,” Lyrah replied cordially, sounding quite satisfied with herself.

  “Are you okay?” the man asked Daylen.

  “Oh, it’s just a little pain in the ass.”

  That one made her glare at him.

  He smiled back with juvenile pleasure.

  “Right… I’m Detective Dain,” the man said matter-of-factly, “and I’ve been assigned to your case.” He flipped through the papers on the clipboard. “Typically you would be shipped back to Treremain, as the crimes you’re accused of were committed within that jurisdiction, but this isn’t a regular case by any light. So here we are. Let’s start with the most serious charge: murder.” The detective put down his clipboard and placed his hands on the desk, one on top of the other. “Mr. Namaran, did you kill anyone while in Treremain?”

  Good, Daylen thought, he’s focusing on the charges and not my past. With any luck, it won’t come up.

  “Yes,” Daylen said.

  “Who?”r />
  “Six people. Two men I caught in the act of rape, a woman sexually molesting a young girl, another woman trying to murder her husband, and a man who had just murdered some poor young boy.” Daylen let his anger resonate as he added, “I didn’t arrive soon enough to prevent that last one. There was also a beggar in the Freysian city of Laybourn. That one was actually self-defense. He tried to slit my throat as I slept.”

  “Reports say that the beggar was decapitated and his head pinned to the wall with a knife. Rather excessive for self-defense.”

  “I was in a bad mood.”

  Lyrah tsked next to him.

  “Look,” Daylen said, “that beggar was a murdering piece of drack. How many other people do you think he killed before he found me? He deserved what he got, and the world is a bit brighter for it.”

  “Then you’re claiming justification?” the detective said flatly.

  “Of course.”

  “Then explain each homicide in every step and why they were justified.”

  Daylen knew why the detective was asking this—he wanted to see if Daylen’s account of the events would match the evidence at the crime scenes, which they would. All he had to do was tell the truth, but that might complicate things regarding his powers. Daylen turned to look at Lyrah. “I would like to, but that would mean talking about some sensitive information regarding my abilities.”

  Lyrah’s mouth pressed into a thin line. Her eyes glanced to him, clearly weighing up her options, and then she looked at the detective. “Daylen is a Lightbinder,” Lyrah said. “He dedicated his life to our cause and received the powers. This is why most of the crime scenes were left in such an unnatural state.”

  Daylen smiled. Lyrah clearly understood that people would quickly figure out that his powers were the same as the knight’s and lying now would only cause problems later on.

  “Hmm, that would explain the holes in the walls and the eyewitness accounts,” Detective Dain said, “and the Order’s interest in this young man. I thought you had to be a knight to have such powers?”

  “You do,” Lyrah said, “in practice at least. You have to dedicate your life to the cause of the Archknights.” Lyrah looked at Daylen. “This young man did, and then received the powers…”

  “In my sleep,” Daylen said, butting in. “I just woke up one day and had them.”

  “Do you still have these powers?” the detective asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I need more than just your word.”

  Daylen sighed. He placed his left hand flat on the table and hammered his fist down on his thumb with enhanced strength, crushing it. He groaned in pain, holding his eyes shut tight, blood having sprayed out like spilled ink. Then, opening his eyes, he raised his fist, revealing a bloody mess. His thumb then slowly began to reform.

  Once it was healed, the detective breathed in and nodded. “Right, that settles it. I expect the charges will be dropped by the end of the fall.”

  “What do you mean dropped?” Lyrah asked.

  “He’s an Archknight, or effectively one, and therefore has power of arrest and sentencing.”

  “But there are some charges that have no witnesses to validate Archknight intervention. We work in twos for a reason.”

  “Yes,” the detective said, “but because of the precedent of the witnesses to the other interventions, I don’t see any reason to challenge Archknight authority in this case.”

  “But he is not technically a knight,” Lyrah said.

  “He could only have his power if he hadn’t broken his oath, right?” the detective asked.

  Daylen looked to Lyrah, smiling cheekily. She wanted him to be found guilty of murder so he could serve out his sentence with the knights, but being guilty would mean the killings were unjustified, revealing the ugly truth that anyone with a knight’s powers could break the oath that supposedly granted them, which might lead to the greater truth: that anyone, regardless of oath, could become a Lightbinder.

  Lyrah was doing her best to hide her frustration, not acknowledging Daylen at all. “Yes,” she said flatly.

  “Exactly. There’s plenty of corroborating evidence, as well as direct witnesses, proving that most of the criminals were engaged in the same crimes as Daylen claims. And on top of that, there’s evidence that Archon powers were used in each intervention, meaning that Daylen was keeping his oaths by intervening, which is fighting evil, I believe. What better witness than the Light that his actions were justified?”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Daylen added.

  Lyrah said nothing.

  “Typically you would be free to go, but there’s a separate standing order to keep you in custody.”

  “What?” Daylen asked.

  “There’s a lot of people wanting to question you about your father.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “Personally, I don’t care, as it’s not your fault who your father was, and the papers seem to have explained enough—if what they say is true?”

  “It is,” Daylen said before adding in his mind, not.

  “You’re supposed to wait here while we fetch whoever wants to question you, but seeing as you have an Archknight custodian, you’re technically already in custody. If you let me know where you’re staying, I’ll pass it up the chain and you can leave.”

  “The Fallton.”

  “Nice place, that. You’re free to go, though officially you can’t leave the city until the charges have been formally dropped.”

  “Thank you,” Daylen said, rising. Those people wanting to question him had probably already dug into his fake past. That conversation was going to be tricky.

  “Pleasure,” Detective Dain said while standing, “and might I say, you’re a fine addition to the knights’ ranks. I can see why the Light chose you. Killing Blackheart!” the man suddenly exclaimed with a fierce smile. “We’ve been after that bastard for years. Well done, lad. Well done indeed.” And with that, Detective Dain nodded and left.

  “Now there’s a lad who’s good at his job,” Daylen said, turning to Lyrah, “don’t you think?”

  Lyrah didn’t respond, and left the room without him.

  Daylen took a moment feeling very smug about himself before he followed. Every person he passed was looking at him, and some even gave him a pat on the back, congratulating him for killing Blackheart and freeing those girls.

  It was great to see that law enforcement considered him to be on their side.

  Lyrah was waiting for him in the foyer, of course; no chance that he would be rid of her so easily.

  “Look, I’m sorry for being a smartass, but you haven’t exactly been a ray of sunshine, either.”

  “You got off because I lied,” She hissed under her breath. “A lie that you knew I had to say!”

  “I would have gotten off anyway and you know it—it’s just that now your Order’s secrets are kept.”

  Lyrah looked at him with hard eyes. “It’s time we have a proper conversation.”

  “Fine.”

  “Follow me.”

  Lyrah walked out of the building, and once on the sidewalk, she crouched before suddenly shooting up into the air in a massive jump and onto the roof of the large constabulary building.

  Daylen was gazing up. With her sudden acceleration, she must have done the same jumping trick Daylen performed through manipulating mass.

  Daylen crouched and increased his mass with one bond, which seemed to make him weigh about a ton, and then jumped, releasing the bond an instant before his feet left the ground.

  Wind suddenly rushed past him as he shot into the air, clearing the building’s height entirely. He slowly began to arc, and when he reached his greatest height he enhanced his strength and landed with ease.

  The roof above was terraced and flat. Lyrah was standing with crossed arms, looking at him. “Who taught you how to do that?”

  “I figured it out.”

  “No one just figures out how to power jump.”

  “That’s wh
at you call it, power jump?”

  “Yes, now answer the question.”

  “I already have: I taught myself. I also figured out how to absorb sunucles, remember.”

  “Absorption is different. It can be done by accident. Power jumping is far more sophisticated.”

  “I agree with you there. Look, all it took was a good understanding of physics and a bit of experimentation.”

  “Then stop it! Experimenting with mass, as well as some other properties, can be extremely dangerous.”

  Daylen laughed. “Yeah, I found that out the hard way.”

  Lyrah sighed in frustration. “What happened?”

  “Oh, I made my feet explode.”

  Lyrah looked confused. “That could only happen by reducing your mass with a level-four bond.”

  “Yeah, what of it?”

  “You’ve specialized mass?”

  What did she mean specialize? Lyrah looked genuinely surprised. “Are you talking about stacking bonds?” Daylen asked.

  “No, I’m talking about specializing. Don’t tell me that you’ve specialized a bond without knowing.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what specializing is?”

  Lyrah paused, smiling. “No, not until you join the knights.”

  “Oh, so it’s going to be like that, is it?”

  “Exactly. If you want to learn how to use your powers properly, and safely, you’ll join the knights.”

  “I’ve done all right by myself so far.”

  Lyrah’s eyebrows rose. “Exploding your feet is ‘all right’?”

  “I survived.”

  “And what if you were around innocent bystanders?”

  “I’m more careful than that.”

  “Doesn’t look like that to me.”

  “I didn’t ask you.”

  Lyrah sighed. “I’m not going to teach you anything until you join the knights, but I can’t have you be a danger to others.”

  “Danger is subjective.”

  “Can I test something?”

  “It depends.”

  “Light, you’re as stubborn as a goat!”

  “The feeling’s mutual!” Daylen said, raising his voice.

  “Argh!” Lyrah yelled and paced back and forth. “Look, just channel all of your bonds into strength, will you?”