Fallen Ambitions
Page 1
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, countries, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 Eric J. Vann
Map by Jessica Khoury
Character Art by Eudia
Contents
Map
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Author's Note
Characters
Chapter 1
Moonlight shone on the cobbled streets of the port city of Arna, illuminating the neglected state of the buildings as well as the heaped filth and rotting corpses which had gathered since the quarantine was imposed.
Emily shook her head as she stepped over a young boy’s corpse. Even after so many trips in and out of the southern district, it was still astonishing how quickly this once lively neighborhood and its bustling peasant marketplace had turned to ruin. She glanced down, noting the dead boy’s patchy hair, his dried but blood-coated lips, and how clearly his ribs showed against his pallid skin. This one had died recently, she guessed, and yet he was practically a skeleton already.
A low growl and the sound of crunching bone caught her attention. Emily’s gaze snapped up, landing on one of the larger heaps of refuse the City Guard had previously dumped the dead upon, back when they still patrolled this district. A large hound was feeding there. It didn’t seem to appreciate her watching; biting down on the shoulder of what—from the remaining clothing Emily could see—had once been a young girl, it dragged the corpse into a side street.
Pulling her woolen cape closer, Emily continued grimly on her way, ignoring the gaze of the few remaining residents peering out from behind the curtains of their homes. With her clean hair and skin, well-maintained leather cuirass, and dagger, she must look quite out of place amidst the misery. But then, she didn’t live in these districts; she was here on a job.
She stopped in front of a house where a wooden plank etched with the number “26” had been nailed to the wall. It was similar to most in Arna, with the same iconic white bricks and blue roof, except there were deep scratches in the wood of the door. Emily unfurled the note Jaz had given her, and after a quick glance at it, nodded to herself.
This was the place.
She stepped closer and knocked twice, then paused before knocking once more. The sound of shuffling came from within.
“What brings you to our home?” a male voice called out stiffly.
“Black clouds gather,” Emily replied, “and I seek a friend amongst the green.”
The lock clicked, and the door swung open to reveal a haggard-looking man holding a kitchen knife at his side. Noticing her gaze, the man quickly placed the knife on a stool beside him. “Just being cautious, didn’t mean nothing by it,” he said.
“Andre, I presume?” When the man nodded, Emily glanced swiftly beyond him, taking in the sparsely furnished interior. He must have sold everything to pay for the contract. “Where are the others? We’re short on time.”
The man disappeared into a side room, and a few moments later reappeared with a young woman who couldn’t have been much older than fifteen. His daughter, Emily decided. Like the man, this girl looked tired, worn out.
“The contract stated three,” Emily said tersely.
“Risa, my wife…” The man dropped his head. “The Curse took her two days ago.”
Emily let out a sigh. “No reimbursements. You know that?”
The man nodded. “I understand.”
Emily conducted a last, rapid check through her equipment, ensuring her throwing knifes and alchemic vials were all accounted for before gesturing for the pair to follow her. “Stay quiet, stay close. Got it?” she demanded, taking a moment to look each of them square in the eyes.
Then she led them out of the house and into the desolate streets.
* * *
Emily wove deftly through the maze of small alleys and inner pathways, heading for one of the hidden tunnels the Green Threads had dug beneath the city. Smuggling people out of the quarantined districts had quickly become one of the most lucrative trades in Arna. The people inside would give everything they had for the chance of escape.
Emily couldn’t fault them. The longer they stayed, the more likely they would be inflicted with the Blood Curse… or encounter a thrall.
Or worse, become one.
Her charges tried their best to keep up with her, but in their tired and weakened state, they could only run for so long before needing a break. Emily stopped at a small courtyard where the surrounding houses appeared deserted—their inhabitants fled, or more likely deceased.
“Five minutes,” she instructed, taking a seat against a gable wall. “Then we have to keep going.” She glanced up at the now-cloudy sky. “Don’t want to be out here when it rains.”
Andre helped his daughter lay down on the hard cobbles, using the few pieces of cloth he carried with him to protect her from the night’s biting cold. The girl smiled, but did not speak.
“Will the guards let us through the gate?” Andre asked, his back still to Emily.
“Unless you’re nobles or merchants living in Milt Road, the guard would sooner kill you then let you through.”
“Then how—?”
“We have our own way out,” Emily interrupted. “Since you seem insistent on filling the time with talk, tell me your story?”
Andre turned heavily and sat beside his daughter, letting out a deep sigh. “Just like everyone else’s, I reckon,” he said. “Lived here all my life. Was planning to stay till my death, too, but…”
“Responsibilities of a parent?” Emily asked, looking at the girl. The man nodded. “What’s wrong with her, anyway? She hadn’t said a word since we left.”
“She’s mute.” Andre shifted to find a more comfortable seat on the cobbles. “Been this way since birth. Her moth—”
In one rapid movement, Emily stood, raising a hand to silence him, her eyes locked on the alleyway they had come from, then flicking to the narrow path they would soon be taking. Twin red orbs shone from the darkness there.
Emily swore under her breath. This was not how she had planned her night.
At first glance, the creature that emerged from the dark had the appearance of a human male. This was to be expected, since it had once indeed been human. Now, however, long claws extended from its fingers, and a low and guttural growl escaped its throat as it bared its fangs at her. Emily shivered instinctively.
A thrall.
She had hoped to avoid one, but that had become ever more difficult with each job. Every day, more and more were infected by the Blood Curse, and while only a few were destined to become one of these mindless vampiric creatures, it was
enough. There were even those who sought the Curse, hoping to escape their fate as the hunted for a chance to join the hunters. What fools, Emily thought grimly, activating her Inspection skill as her right hand slowly made its way to her belt. Gray runes appeared before her.
You have successfully Inspected your target.
* * *
Name: Slade
Race: Hybrid, Thrall
Rank: Varied
Level: 6
* * *
“Quick,” she barked, pulling out a pair of knifes with one swift motion. “Get into a house and bar the door!” Her sudden movement caused the thrall to let out a high-pitched shriek before sprinting forward, its head low. Too fast, Emily thought, as she tossed a pair of knifes in its direction. The thrall ducked under one, but the same movement caused her second knife to bury itself deep into its chest. The creature didn’t even react.
Emily ran forward and slid across the slick cobbles, allowing her momentum to push her under the creature’s arm as it swiped its long claws at her—then she drew her dagger and spun, slashing at the back of its ankles. She could smell the awful scent of decay coming from it as its blood spattered across the ground.
The thrall screeched, then leaped at her, pushing off so forcefully that its injured feet cracked sharply. Even so, it tackled her to the ground and Emily let out a cry of pain as it sunk its sharp fangs through her leather cuirass and into her shoulder.
A sucking and swallowing sound reached her ears. Zar’s glowing balls! The thing was actually feeding on her in the middle of a fight! Emily brought her dagger out from under the monster and stabbed at it repeatedly. The thrall shrieked as it jerked away from the blade, giving her the space she needed to roll free and scramble back to her feet, wincing as the sting of the bite flared in her shoulder.
Aware of the thrall’s ability to heal, Emily knew she needed to end this—and quickly. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she dashed at the creature as it writhed on the ground, then leaped and brought her blade downward. The tip sank into the thrall’s skull, the clang of metal on cobbles marking her blade’s exit on the far side. The thrall’s struggles ceased and it fell still as its cursed blood pooled around it.
Emily stayed there for a moment, panting, gathering her strength. Footsteps sounded from behind her.
“You’re hurt!” Andre said, staring at the blood.
“No shit—going to tell me it’s dark next?” Emily snapped.
Damn, she realized, it was already happening. The Blood Curse had first been brought to Arna through tainted food; someone or something had introduced vampire blood into a tureen of soup served to the city’s poor and helpless. After that, it had kept spreading.
A bite or any exchange of bodily fluid with a Curse-bearer was enough. An infection quickly turned even the tamest and most peace-loving people to violence, and then their eyes reddened and they began killing and biting anything that moved, like rabid dogs. Thankfully, she had not reached that stage yet. There were ways to stop the Curse when it was still fresh to the body—if you could afford them, that was.
Emily reached unsteadily for her belt and unclipped two vials. The first contained a lime-green liquid, which she drank in one quick gulp. That would help with the pain. The next vial was a deep blue with what looked to be flakes of gold and silver suspended within it. Emily did not understand how the cure worked, but she’d seen it in action enough times to trust it.
Pulling out a piece of cloth, she bit down hard onto it before pouring the contents of the vial onto her injured shoulder. She let out a muffled scream as the wound bubbled and steam rose from the point of contact. Her shoulder and arm felt like they were on fire, and she could sense the liquid as it moved through her veins, scorching everything as it did.
Spitting out the cloth, Emily sheathed her dagger with difficulty. “Come on,” she grunted, her breathing heavy. “We have to keep moving.”
Andre glanced at her, then at the dead thrall. “Maybe you should rest up first…”
“The longer we stay, the more of those things we fight,” Emily replied sharply. “Unless you want a crack at one, we’re moving. Now.”
Andre said nothing after that. He pulled his daughter close and Emily guided them both on through the eerie streets, toward the hidden tunnel and salvation.
* * *
The alcohol burned on its way down before settling warmly in her belly. Emily remembered the first time she had tried White Bruiser, the favored drink of the Fermont underground. Its name was derived from its milky color, while the bruiser part—well, that was because it knocked people out. Emily took another grateful swallow. “What an awful night, ha?” she remarked before letting out a long sigh.
The older man opposite her grunted as he filled his own glass, his white-haired and grizzled face illuminated by the only candle in The Boiling Heart still lit. “’Twas, wasn’t it?”
After delivering Andre and his daughter into the more peaceful and still-functioning eastern port district of Arna, Emily had made her way to the tavern to report her success, and to seek some more effective medication for the pain she was still in. She took another swallow of her drink.
The man opposite her was both her barkeep and her employer. As the head of the Green Threads, he was also a ranking member of the powerful Fermont Syndicate which united groups such as his across the satrapy. Jaz had kept the tavern as a cover for his other, less legal dealings. They were the only ones in here tonight, and both stared out the window. The streets were empty as rain began to fall.
“How did things end up like this?” Emily asked, softly.
Arna was the second largest city within the Fermont Satrapy, a formerly proud nation which had spent most of its history serving another: first the Caelian Empire, and now the Ejani. But even so, Arna had remained one of the richest cities in the area, thanks to its position as the gateway to the Ejani markets for the factions of the Eastern Peninsula, and the other way around.
“Just gonna get worse,” Jaz complained, then hiccupped. Emily let out a short laugh, but then noticed his brow furrow.
“Jaz? What is it?”
Her employer placed both hands on the table. “Seems nobles and influential Ejani merchants have been evacuatin’ the city in secret for the last few days, along with half the guard.”
“They left? Did the city administrator lift the quarantine?”
Jaz scoffed. “Nah. Not for us normal folk, anyway. I sent word for Ness to return as soon as I heard. Should get ‘ere sometime today if he left immediately.”
Emily winced at this news. “Was that really necessary?”
Jaz smiled, but it faded almost as quickly as it appeared. “Heard about what happened on the west side?”
Emily shook her head. The western districts were where most of the foreign dignitaries and merchants stayed.
“News is Joran went mad last night,” Jaz said as he refilled his glass then raised the pitcher to offer her the same.
Emily declined with a shake of her head. “Joran? The Odanian dried meats guy?”
“Yeh. They say he grabbed his cleaver and started hackin’ at people. Killed two and hurt more than a dozen before the guards got to him.”
“Dead?” she asked, mulling over this news. It sounded awfully reminiscent of the beginnings of the Blood Curse, only this time in a far richer district.
Jaz nodded. “Had to stab him a dozen times before he went down.”
“What did they do with his supplies?”
“Burned them,” Jaz replied with a shrug. “Guards ain’t taking chances with tainted food no more.”
Emily pursed her lips and returned to nursing her drink. She could only hope the city avoided another catastrophe—but then again, smuggling rich people would be infinitely more profitable than the inhabitants of the grimy southern district. That was assuming any of them were even left in the city, if what Jaz said was true.
The leader of the Green Threads suddenly stood, his chair scraping again
st the old wooden floors as he bent forward to peer through the window and into the empty cobbled streets, his expression focused.
“Jaz?” she asked. “What’s the matter?” She followed his gaze outside—and that was when she noticed it too.
Movement, and lots of it.
There were figures darting about in the rain. She activated her Keen Sense, and after a brief blinding flash of white across her vision, everything became as clear as day. Emily stared, open-mouthed, at the figures’ weapons and heavy, glinting armor—as well as the emblem woven onto their tabards.
“Gold Serpents,” she whispered.
“Huh?” Jaz’s frown deepened. “What in the endless Abyss’re they doing here?”
Emily didn’t know. The Serpents were an elite military order whose main duty was to serve the Ejani’s Prime Divinity and protect the Imperial Family. They were allowed free rein to do whatever they deemed necessary to fulfill their orders without consequences, something they took full advantage of. Common folk still used stories of them to frighten children, such was their brutality when unleashed in the past.
Emily’s hand gripped the hilt of her blade. “We need to get out of here,” she said. Jaz looked at her for a second, then nodded tightly before hurrying away to root for something behind the bar.
And that’s when she heard it: a high-pitched whistle, cutting through the roar of the intensifying storm.
She knew that sound. Magitech cannons. But why would they be using such a destructive weapon on their own subjects? Their own city?
As if to underline her thoughts, a loud series of booms erupted in the distance, followed by another at closer quarters, as the night sky lit up with magical fires.
Emily gazed up in shock. The barrier meant to protect the city from attacks such as this were not working. Why hadn’t they activated? Or had the Gold Serpents seized control of them already?
“Jaz!” she yelled as she saw a pair of heavily armored men break down the door of the general goods store opposite the tavern and rush in, blades drawn. Panicked screams engulfed the city as citizens ran into the wet cobbled streets only to be pursued and cut down without hesitation. Men, women, and children—Emily watched in horror. She took a step back from the window, unable to believe what she was seeing. It was indiscriminate, brutal violence.