by E. M. Hardy
Things only got worse after she presented Imperial writs for half their harvests to feed the quarter-million men and beasts passing through their lands. No coins or goods would be supplied in return; the writ was basically a demand for supplies that were either voluntarily surrendered or forcefully taken.
Not as if the Empire had the funds to pay them with anyway.
The attacks from the Rats and the burgeoning bandit problem paralyzed trade, stifling commerce and striking fear into the hearts of people all over the land. Trade ground down to a halt without Martin’s postal service coordinating orders as cow-boxes hauled around goods for free.
The Empire’s coffers had yet to recover from Inagaki’s rebellion as well, doing all it could to pay the wages of the soldiers protecting it.
The Empire would normally scale back military spending, divert funds to the trading families, farming villages, and artisan guilds to reinvigorate commerce. With the threat of the rogues, however, the Empire simply didn’t have enough funds to finance both the army and the traders at the same time.
It only got worse with time since the Empire lacked the soldiers to watch over the extensive road networks that Martin built up.
The arteries that once connected the Empire together, and which made it easy to trade goods between one end of the land to the other, were now infested with bandits that would disappear into the wilds at the first sign of an Imperial patrol. Either that or the roads were blocked by felled trees or rocky debris intentionally left behind by the bandits or created by nature in one of her many disasters.
She wasn’t the only one who missed Martin.
The common folk propped up walkers on posts around the gates of their villages, placed dolls in rows around their fields, stabled cow-boxes with their beasts of burden, and placed recovered eyeballs atop the roofs of their homes. It disturbed her to see just how venerated Martin had become with the peasantry, as if his constructs supplanted the commoner’s reverence for the Empress.
This, more than anything, explained why Cui Dai wasn’t quite in the mood to join the jinn in their lighthearted teasing of her apprentice. She saw all these things more clearly now that she wasn’t single-mindedly hunting down the Rats and preventing them from blowing up yet another garrison, marketplace, shrine, or trading post.
These thoughts continued to haunt her even as she turned around a corner, revealing the ruined remains of an entrance merged within the cliffside—one that led to Martin’s hidden pyramid within the Yanshi Mountains.
“Oh,” Yao Xiu exclaimed numbly, her first time seeing the pyramid that used to house Martin’s core, where his soul once resided. “So this is what you wanted me to see.”
“Yes,” Cui Dai said with a nod, picking up her pace now that their objective was in sight. “A slight detour from the main roads leading to the Bashri Basin, nothing more. I want you to see what happened to Martin… and learn exactly how he died.”
Her statement immediately dampened the atmosphere around them, the young Balancer and the two jinni lapsing into solemn silence as they approached the pyramid. Or more accurately, as they approached the well-disguised entrance leading into a structure excavated within the steep mountainside. They could barely make out the pointed apex of the pyramid jutting out from the ground, what with loose gravel covering everything but the entrance.
“I… I appreciate this, honored master.”
Cui Dai nodded quickly, choosing brevity as a response to her apprentice’s earnest gratitude. “Enin, some light if you would?”
Her bonded partner nodded her affirmation, using sahar to summon a small, glowing sphere of concentrated light on the palm of her ethereal hand. Inqiz did the same, and the two jinn floated beside their respective partners to illuminate their path as they made their way inside the pyramid.
“Be mindful of your surroundings. The underground tunnels are still mostly intact, but keep an eye out for weakened struts and cracking walls. Watch out for fallen constructs as well.”
Yao Xiu tripped over a fallen doll right as Cui Dai made out her warning. The young apprentice squeaked as Inqiz’s globe of light revealed rows of collapsed dolls lining the tunnel.
Cui Dai fought down a chill as her own partner’s globe of light revealed an upright walker’s blank face staring right at her. It wasn’t quite standing on its own legs, however, for it leaned on a spear even as the wall behind it supported most of its weight.
This scene continued on for half an hour as Cui Dai navigated the pyramid’s tunnels by memory. This was actually her second time exploring Martin’s pyramid. The first was when she and other Balancers were investigating why Martin’s constructs suddenly failed, falling flat on their faces all at once.
Only later did they discover that Okuda was telling the truth—that his colleagues had indeed targeted Martin’s core all while pretending to attack the Empress during her wedding with Prince Suhaib.
A pity, that. What should have been a grand wedding that took more than a year to plan was instead cut short to a brief exchange of vows as the Empire faced yet another crisis on top of the one it was already struggling to deal with.
The group of two humans and two jinn wound their way through the darkened tunnels of Martin’s dead pyramid, the only source of light coming from the globes held up by the beings of ether. Her apprentice silently took in all the sights, from the inactive production vats filled with dried-out mud to silent pnevmatic generators that used to hum with soul-energies powering Martin’s constructs.
“This,” Cui Dai motioned with a sad wave of her hand as they approached their destination, “was Martin’s heart.”
Master and apprentice stood within a large chamber that should have housed a tall, gleaming tower of crystals reaching all the way up to the ceiling. Instead of a grand tower containing thousands of memory crystals, they instead walked among a blasted mess of broken crystalline shards covering the floor.
Scorch marks marred the walls around them, with dozens of shards embedded into the mud walls. The tower itself was reduced to a ruined base, the cracked crystals forming jagged edges that jutted upward like dozens of knives pointing to the sky. Larger chunks of the crystalline tower lay all across the room, dead and devoid of the energies that once constituted Martin’s soul.
“We found similar rooms in the other abandoned pyramids, most notably the one in the Leizhu Swamp. This one, however, was far larger than any other crystalline tower we’ve uncovered. It’s also the only one damaged to such an extent. This is most likely what the Rats targeted to end Martin for good.”
“How… how did it happen?”
Cui Dai sighed sadly as she swiveled her head all around, ready to explain the hypothesis of the Balancers. She held her tongue, however, and decided on a different course of action. “Open your eyes, apprentice Balancer. What did you notice coming into this room?”
“Honored master… please. I just want to know how a good friend of mine died. Must we go through this now?”
“You may not expect to take part in field operations, apprentice Balancer, but you are still part of Her Augustness’ most elite, most loyal cadre of retainers. Do you think a crisis will wait for your grief to lift, for the mood to strike you before you face what needs to be faced? Now… what did you notice coming into this room?”
Yao Xiu sniffed loudly, no doubt fighting the tears welling up in her eyes. She blinked once, twice, inhaled deeply, and settled her face into the neutral expression she wore when connecting with her jinni partner. Her eyes narrowed, a sign of her reviewing her memories as Inqiz guided her through the archives of her mind.
“I see… inactive constructs. Hundreds of them. All positioned strangely. No signs of resistance at all. They just fell over where they stood. Some dolls even spilled the mud they were carrying toward those strange, vat-like machines. This means… Martin died suddenly, without resistance. The Rats must have somehow managed to infiltrate this room without his knowledge.”
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She sucked in a breath of air, her eyes widening with alarm. “Shadow walking. That’s the only way the Rats could have managed to sneak past all of Martin’s constructs.
“If I recall correctly, some agents in the Order of Rats can control actual rats, see through their eyes and hear through their ears. They could get close enough, release their pets, and scout out the way. They would then have a much easier time navigating the tunnels, carrying crystal bombs with their enhanced ability to walk the shadows and heading straight to this room without running into any resistance.”
“Indeed,” Cui Dai replied with a nod of approval. Her apprentice only needed a minute to come to a conclusion that took other more experienced Balancers days to piece together.
“That means Okuda’s theories were more or less correct.”
Cui Dai grunted at that. She personally beheaded the Rat prisoner after the last of his brethren was hunted down, his usefulness coming to an end. “Yes. It would appear that he guessed right.”
Okuda’s warnings echoed in Cui Dai’s thoughts, of how the Empire would collapse under its own weight before the rogues even managed to get close to its borders.
Killing Martin, terrorizing the populace with regular bombings, striking while the Imperial armies were off fighting the rogues… all these had indeed taken their toll on the Empire.
They may have found the last den of Rats and hopefully culled them once and for all, but the damage had already been done. It would take time to repair Imperial prestige, find and eliminate the pockets of bandits that were hiding away in the wilderness around the highways.
And that was assuming that they rooted out all the Rats. The Balancers only traced out the dens of those cells that carried out attacks, yet it was extremely likely that other cells continued to lie dormant.
Perhaps it was fortunate then that the northern barbarians offered their help. The Empress’ original plan was to pull out all the armies to help defend her husband’s lands. The northern army under the command of the General of the Black Turtle, the central army under the command of the General of the White Tiger, the eastern army under the command of the General of the Azure Dragon—they would have all marched south to join the General of the Vermillion Bird in combating the rogues.
Only a token force would remain behind the fortress city of Gudan—a scarecrow army to frighten the barbarians of the north. And just like a scarecrow, it would be able to do nothing if the barbarians decided to end their infighting and ride south on a campaign of conquest.
With the Great Horde’s arrival to join the fight against the rogues, however, the Empress could at least leave behind troops from the central army to help maintain order.
Cui Dai shook the thoughts away from her mind and focused back on the present. “I brought you here, apprentice, to learn what happens when we become complacent in our vigilance.” She crouched down in a squat, touching a ruined piece of crystal at her feet.
“Martin believed he was untouchable, that nothing would be able to harm him. I warned him of the dangers of sharing power so recklessly, of allowing anyone and everyone to train under his obelisks. In his single-minded drive to empower our people, to prepare us for these invaders of his, he ended up like this—dead and unable to help us in our time of crisis.”
She rubbed the crystal with a tender touch, her mask obscuring the sad curve of her lips. “Such a fate could very easily befall us, which is why we need to do more than just sit around and wait for doom to darken our doorstep.
“I know you shared a special bond with him, that you honestly believed that he was doing the right thing, but you must always remember that you cannot accomplish anything if you are dead. It doesn’t matter if you are of flesh and blood or of clay and mud; there is always someone or something out there that can end your existence.”
Cui Dai stood up tall, pulling the taijitu medallion of the Balancers out from a hidden pocket. “We, the Balancers, protect Her Majesty from any and all threats to her rule—especially after what the Three Sages did to the Imperial family. We serve to prevent this from happening to Her Augustness, to the Empire she rules over.
“So always remember what happened here,” Cui Dai said. “It is our duty to find these threats before they can harm the Empire, and is the entire reason Her Augustness formed our order in the first place.”
Cui Dai softened her tone before laying a gentle hand on her apprentice’s shoulder. “That said, I can at least turn a blind eye as you grieve for your fallen friend.”
“I… gratitude, honored master,” Yao Xiu replied as she nodded solemnly, her face downcast. “Gratitude.”
Cui Dai stared at her apprentice for a few moments longer before releasing a sad sigh. “I must admit, apprentice, that Martin’s dream was an intoxicating one. He… made me see the world in a much different light. He opened possibilities that no one even had the heart to dream, of the powers we could unlock when we immerse ourselves in the talents of our former enemies.
“Though he was far too stubborn and flippant for his own good, I still wish that his dream would have been realized.”
“I too wish the same, honored master. He… he will be missed.”
Both master and apprentice maintained their silent vigil for a few more moments. Cui Dai rubbed the glowing shard in her hands, the byproduct of a weapon that ended Martin’s existence.
The light within already started to dim as the chi and prana began bleeding out of the little fragment.
She pushed her chi into the perfectly-shaped shard, gently pouring it into the cracks. She then opened her own core, leaking prana into the gem. The energies washed over the crystal, cascading through the cracks on its surface and brightening the dull glow within.
She accidentally cut her finger while doing so, a formerly dull edge suddenly sharpening to a razor’s edge. She pulled her finger back, flicking a few drops away and attributed the minor injury to her carelessness.
She then laid the small shard down upon the ruined pillar of crystals that served as Martin’s core. She whispered a prayer for the ancestors to watch over his soul, wherever it ended up going. Yao Xiu joined her, whispering her own prayers and asking her own ancestors to guide Martin’s soul to its rightful place.
Enin and Inqiz watched silently, contributing their own quiet prayers and hoping that Martin found his way to the gates of Jannah instead of the fiery pits of Jahannam.
They left a few moments later, making their way through the winding tunnels of Martin’s pyramid. They rejoined the Imperial army and the Grand Horde marching south toward the Bashri Basin. They checked in with other Balancers, sharing their reports and assessing potential threats to the combined armies.
Cui Dai’s gift to Martin, however, turned out to be far more valuable than she ever suspected.
Chapter 13
Martin woke up screaming into the empty abyss as darkness pressed down on him from all sides. He kept screaming and screaming until he realized his screams did nothing for him.
He shrank into himself, whimpering at the sense of emptiness he felt. He could neither sense as he did with his fleshy body, nor could he tap into the myriad windows of consciousness he commanded with his core. All he felt was nothingness, hovering in an empty void with nothing but his thoughts.
“What… what happened to me?”
“You died, fool,” barked a cold, angry voice that echoed in the emptiness. Martin startled, shifting his attention this way and that. He finally focused on a faint prickling of something in his vision. The little something seemed to solidify the more attention he paid to it, growing in size from a tiny dot to a more significant amalgamation of… something.
“Funny, I don’t feel dead. Are you sure—"
“You died because you were weak,” spat the voice, cutting whatever witty rejoinder Martin attempted to improvise. “Unwilling to take power when it was offered to you, unwilling to use it to further your own development. You could have reaped
an entire planet’s worth of souls for yourself.
“All that pnevma, focused so sharply within that laughable copy of a soul you call a core? You could have had everything you wanted, enforced your will upon those who refused to bend. Instead, you died pitifully without even understanding how it happened.”
Martin startled as recognition gradually dawned on him. That voice belonged to a part of him that he thought he banished when he broke and reformed his core—the same part that made him want to keep killing, get high on the rush of power that came from imprisoning their souls and torturing them for power.
And now that very same voice somehow came back to life, berating him for his choices.
“The cattle that you tried to protect?” the voice continued, seething with anger and frustration. “The livestock you held so near and dear? They were the ones that killed you in the end.”
Martin groaned out loud. “Oh, hell. It was the Rats, wasn’t it?”
“What difference does it make who betrayed you? All livestock are the same: simple chattel to be grown and culled when needed.”
“It makes a world of difference,” Martin snapped back, starting to get annoyed. “Some of them are decent enough to protect, to help out when they need it. Just because there are some crazies out there doesn’t mean I need to kill everyone else just to be on the safe side!”
“This is NOT your first experience with betrayal, nor will it be your last!”
Martin opened his nonexistent mouth to reply, but he couldn’t quite find the right words to say.
He remembered Shen Feng storming the pyramid at the Leizhu Swamp, then of Cui Dai all but admitting the Empress’ complicity.
He remembered the disgruntled executives in the League of Merchants hiring bandits to attack convoys he guarded, the same ones that tried to knock Isin off with poisoned darts.
Then there was Shogun Inagaki, who tricked the city of Yan Bao into surrendering before his troops raped, pillaged, and ultimately slaughtered the people within.