Emperor's Shadow (Elite Book 1) Read online

  It’s going to be really cool! he thought, even though his rational mind knew that, realistically, the odds were stacked against him. After all, he was just a self-taught child with a vendetta.

  Carefully, he unfastened the straps, and attached the weapon to his right arm. Setting his machine to the lowest setting, he hooked up the Fye container, and aimed the “lightning projector” out of the window, away from Sawyn.

  “Please work,” he prayed quietly, and hoped his parents were watching over him from the afterlife. Gingerly, he squeezed trigger. For several gut-wrenching seconds, nothing happened. Then, with a sizzling crackle, sparks of electricity shot out in an arc a few inches in length and fizzled out.

  I did it.

  Tears of exuberance streamed down his face as he watched his hours of hard work come to fruition.

  Memories flooded his mind of that fateful day. Fragments from his then five-year-old brain, combined with stories from the few survivors.

  Formations of Imperial troops equipped with gas masks and wielding large Fye tanks strapped to their backs advanced upon Zone S1. Instigators of the 12th Southern Rebellion gathered in a disordered mob numbering in the thousands.

  Zed’s parents were far from the action, having elected to watch the zone square through the window of a building three blocks away. He looked up, and saw two faces wrinkled with concern.

  Instead of engaging the Rebels head on, twenty-four Elite Imperial Alchemists marched forward in perfect unison. Slowly, the tension built up, until the mob exploded into action and charged toward the Northern lines. What followed could only be described as a bloodbath as two dozen Fye-fueled living weapons obliterated a quarter of the Rebel ranks in mere seconds. With one brutal strike, the Rebellion was broken by the Empire’s Finest.

  But the carnage didn’t end there. As the routed rebels attempted to flee, legions of soldiers armed with Techno-weapons gave chase. With the rebelling faction dispersing among the population, the emperor gave the order to exterminate the whole zone.

  As Zed went through the last memories of his parents tucking him away inside a container, his fingers began toying with the power gauge on his contraption. The fool of an emperor will die one day, he promised himself.

  “Zed?” Sawyn asked, finally stirring from her slumber.

  Zed turned and gave her the biggest smile she had ever seen. Holding up his right arm, he beamed with pride. “I got something to show you.”

  Chapter 5: Celebration

  Vince picked at the spot where the cuts had been just weeks ago, and the scabs came off easily. As Lucia predicted, the Beetles retaliated by force, but it was fended off without many injuries. As much as he pretended not to care, deep down, Vince was glad to not have more deaths weighing on his conscience.

  It was rare for the orphans to get a break, but in order to celebrate the prince’s tenth birthday, the emperor had declared a mandatory holiday. Without his shifts at the factory, Vince found himself growing restless. His own tenth was only days away, and unless the emperor himself appeared in an explosion of Alchemical flame to adopt Vince as his son, there wouldn’t be another chance for him to celebrate. And so he sneaked out of the orphanage, past the annoying little Isha, who tended to stick to him like a leech.

  On this festive day, the Dragon-controlled marketing zone was busier than usual, in anticipation for the cross country parade that the emperor himself had supposedly planned. Vince never cared for the Elites, and would love to drown them all in the River of Great Divide, or cast them into the Rift. Nevertheless, he decided to check it out anyway, to study the enemy, such was the excuse. It’s definitely not for the fireworks, Vince assured himself.

  The alleyways remained relatively empty as the adults stuck to the main roads. Robberies rarely occurred in those dark death traps, especially with the Dragons guarding their territory so zealously. Only one or two knifings slipped past the enforcers every month, but apparently, the adults considered those odds too risky. Vince could never understand that logic, as it was very obviously only the weak who died; the strong had nothing to fear.

  Already bored from walking, he kicked a pebble against one of the walls, and watched the ricochet with satisfaction. It was rare for him to be alone, he realized, ever since he found little Isha abandoned by the roadside and took her back to the orphanage with him. What a silly girl, he thought, so innocent. Perhaps that was what had made him stop on that stormy day, instead of ignoring her cries like all the others who simply walked by.

  “Minzy!” Vince called out, expecting his friend to come out of hiding. A figure approached from the other side of the alley, but the boy who appeared wasn’t Minzy, rather someone much skinnier. “You are a Dragon?” Vince asked.

  The other boy nodded. Almost a dozen pouches of various sizes dangled from a sash tied about his waist. “I’m Tin. Not an enforcer, sadly, and I have a father. Not my real father, mind you.” Tin spoke very quickly, almost too rapidly to be considered coherent. “He found me and took me in, but I’m still an orphan.” Noting the confused look on Vince’s face, Tin slowed down drastically. “I am part of Dragon. I’m a scavenger. And my adopted father is a ti—” He stopped abruptly, then paused. “A guy.”

  A tinker, Vince thought to himself. “You should probably rehearse that answer a bit more. Talking about tinkering could get everyone killed,” he warned. “Besides, you shouldn’t spill your life story to everyone you meet in an alley.”

  Tin nodded to show he understood. Tinkering was an offense punishable by death, as the Imperials wanted to maintain the monopoly on all technological innovations. The subject was so taboo among the general populace that mere mention of it set people on edge.

  “Better yet, don’t mention your father at all,” Vince said seriously, hoping Tin would take it to heart. “Any idea where Minzy is?”

  “Who’s asking?”

  Vince smiled. “That’s better. I’m Vince from the Wolf Gang,” he offered with a polite nod.

  Tin didn’t reply, but looked closely at Vince’s face. After a few seconds, he relaxed. “Yeah, you look just like the description,” he decided. After the scavenger took a step closer, the two shook hands. For a small boy, Tin had a very impressive grip.

  Vince wondered what the “description” was, but he decided it was something that he could wait to find out. “When you see him, tell him that Vince will be coming to the Tryout.” With that, he began walking past.

  Tin simply stood there, scratching his head while trying to remember the information.

  Before Vince had walked even three feet, sudden footsteps alerted him to several people quickly approaching. Out of reflex, he backtracked, grabbed Tin, and dragged him behind discarded crates.

  Vince silently prayed that the scavenger was at least competent at hiding. Luckily, a moment later, he heard Tin take a long, deliberate breath, and both of them went completely still. From behind the piles of discarded containers, Vince had a limited but serviceable view of the alley.

  The footsteps grew louder, until faces began to appear. At least, they could’ve been faces had they not been hidden behind dark and fearsome gas masks. It appeared Vince’s initial assessment was incorrect as a dozen pairs of boots flew past. Each of the masked figures carried with them heavy gas tanks on their backs. Yet, despite the obvious weight, their footsteps were impressively quiet. Armed to the teeth, the golden Ivy Sigils on each of their sleeves marked them as Elite Alchemists.

  What almost made Vince stumble out of hiding was the extravagant robes each of the masked figures were wearing. Surely, they weren't the most practical in design, but the material appeared so smooth and the patterns sewn so intricately, the boy had to consciously suppress his envy.

  Despite his deep hatred of the Elite, Vince couldn’t help but respect these deadly living weapons. He had heard rumors of the rigorous trainings people go through in the Academy, and part of him had dismissed them as mere myths. Seeing the efficiency and grace in their march washed away mos
t of his doubts.

  As the procession passed by, Vince identified the source of the more noticeable steps. A middle-aged man marched with easy grace across the empty alley, his hand holding a metal grip. Extending from the handle were two chains trailing behind him, which were attached to hooded figures with shackles around their wrists and locks across their necks. Metal chains draped around the two slaves’ entire bodies, with all the loose links connecting at the feet.

  This was the first time Vince had ever seen a Riftborn up close, and the sight sent chills of awe down his body. If the stories could be trusted, those creatures possessed unimaginable strength. The chains were locked so tightly that even when walking, there was no jingling sound of metal links striking against one another. Still, despite the tremendous amount of additional weight, the two had no difficulty keeping pace. Judging by their body shapes, he knew one of the two must be female.

  Something was familiar about the man holding the leash, and the recognition nagged at Vince. Where had he seen this man before? he pondered silently. Next to him, Tin remained perfectly still, thankfully. Seeing no course of action other than doing the same, Vince closed his eyes until the steps passed by and eventually faded away.

  Though the danger appeared to be over, Vince’s instincts told him to remain behind cover.

  Minutes passed, and the boys’ muscles began to cramp from holding their pose. Just as Vince considered stretching out, more footsteps thundered down the alley.

  A second group, this one much larger, began marching by, with much less subtlety and grace. Looking out through the tiny space between the containers, Vince began counting.

  Unlike the first party, this group was a mix of gas-tank-carrying Alchemists and soldiers wielding techno weaponry. There were some who completely omitted the uniform, instead opting for light form-fitting cloth and long, slender two-handed swords. Amidst this flood of new information, Vince noted the absence of Ivy Sigils.

  Somewhere after the fourth dozen, Vince lost track as his mind raced to process this development. Why is there such a large force mobilizing right now? he wondered as what must have been more than a hundred soldiers passed by. A force this size could lock down an entire zone, even wage a small-scale battle. Combined with the dozen Elite alchemists that already went by—

  It was then that Vince came to a shocking realization: The man whom he thought he recognized was none other than the Shadow. There could be no one else who shared so many features with the emperor, the posters of whom were plastered all over the districts. Although Vince couldn’t begin to surmise, such an important figure must be on a mission of utmost importance. This revelation explained the presence of Elite alchemists, along with not one, but two Riftborns.

  Whatever the agenda was, given the reputation of the Shadow, there shouldn't be any backup, which meant the second group could be assassins. And with any luck, there would soon be a titanic battle in the alleys of Market Zone.

  Tin let out a big sigh as the footsteps faded away, leaving the children alone in the alley once again. “We should probably get away from there,” he suggested while pointing south, the direction the alchemists were headed.

  Vince didn’t care to reply as thoughts raced in his mind. Gently, he nudged and gestured for Tin to leave, and the young scavenger wasn't in a mood to protest. After a few hesitant glances from the Dragon, Vince found himself alone with his thoughts. Looking around to make sure he wasn’t being followed, Vince began heading south, toward the impending battle.

  He admitted to himself that this was extremely dangerous, but this could be a golden opportunity, despite Lucia always warning him that if he sought out danger, she would kill him.

  What if he found both sides devastated, and had a chance to kill and loot an Alchemist? Surely, it was worth the risk. Throw on top of that the rare opportunity to watch the Shadow in battle, and Vince found himself picking up the pace.

  For a few minutes, he worried that the men had taken a detour and he would miss the action. But a deafening explosion echoed down the alleyways, bringing a smile to his face.

  Chapter 6: Treason

  “High treason!” Manus bellowed, a mixture of anger and surprise apparent in his voice. More than a dozen attackers lay dead before him, some of them barely recognizable as corpses. It was an impressively successful blitz by the unidentified attackers, as Manus had lost a staggering fourth of his convoy. Such losses were catastrophic, as each Elite contract cost more than a year's tax from any zone in the empire. But the financial losses weren’t what enraged him.

  Unlike other men of power, Manus treated all under his service as comrades. Michael, Darc, and Nera had all served with him for years, and their deaths demanded immediate retribution. When Manus found the person responsible, he planned to personally choke the life out of him ... or her.

  The enemy had struck with a powerful, coordinated attack. A large burst of flame caught his envoy while they attempted to shield themselves, and impacted with deadly precision. Nera was the first to spot the danger, and realized there was no time for warning. She dove apart from the rest of the group and erected a defensive ice barrier strong enough to slow yet not completely stop the blast. With her sacrifice, she saved most of the group from annihilation. But even as the Shadow's envoy snapped into defensive formation, a dozen blade masters trained for speed leapt from the smoke, and attacked the two still-leashed Riftborns. Even while shackled, the two fought valiantly, and with their fists and chains as weapons, they made short work of the sword-wielding enemies. Unfortunately, outnumbered and restricted, the male fell to the onslaught.

  Had both Riftborns perished, Manus might have considered retreating, but the female was still very much unharmed. Taking a deep breath, he channeled a small amount of Fye through his body, and willed for lightning. A destructive burst of electricity forked out from his hand, and struck the remaining Riftborn square in the chest, activating the lock that held her restraints.

  The creature shrugged it off as if nothing had happened. But a clicking noise signaled the beginning of the Shadow's counteroffensive. Chains unraveled and clinked to the ground around the Riftborn, revealing a slender yet toned woman garbed in pure black. She was covered from the neck down, and long black hair draped over her shoulders all the way to her waist. Her eyes were a piercing shade of blue, cold enough to extinguish fires.

  “Neruby, attack,” Manus commanded, and flipped a switch on his gas tank. A gentle hissing assured him the flow of gas had begun.

  The Riftborn did not wait for Manus to finish the sentence. Without missing a beat, before the last chain even met the floor, she was already upon the first group of enemy. Her speed bedazzled her foes as she drove a hidden blade through the hearts of one soldier after another. With another flurry of blows, an entire kill squad of six lay dead. In a state of panic, an alchemist shot flames toward Neruby, but the stream simply dissipated before contact, and a quick strike put down the unfortunate soul.

  With the enemy in a state of disarray, Manus and the Elite Alchemists began the combat routine rehearsed many times before. Most of the Fye in the surrounding air was consumed in the first attack by the assassins, but the Shadow’s envoy was prepared with a supply of their own. Even without turning to look, Manus knew all of the Elite Alchemists were ready to strike. Spreading his arms wide, he channeled as much of the chemical as his body would allow, almost emptying his entire tank.

  As Manus attacked, his fellow Elites mimicked the movements. All at once, they extended their hands forward, fingers spread apart. A tremendous lightning storm surged forth, and engulfed the traitorous assassins.

  Manus’s enemies turned out to be no pushovers either, as even amongst the chaos, defensive barriers began forming. Thanks to the sheer number advantage the assassins possessed, the electrical attack was stopped short a few feet from the impact. But the Shadow did not let up on the offense, and the channeling of lightning continued.

  In a straight-up battle of alchemy, the defenders
always have an advantage, but Manus’s envoy was assembled purposefully to fight as a cohesive unit. The maelstrom of lightning was met with a solid defensive barrier that fused Fye with the moisture in the air to divert the power into the ground. But the tide would soon change.

  Neruby shielded her eyes from the flash of light, but made no effort to avoid the electricity. She surged into motion once again, and crashed headfirst into the barrier. As she passed, the opening immediately mended itself behind her. Four blademasters attempted to intercept her, but were cut down effortlessly. Even before the bodies hit the ground, Neruby identified the alchemists responsible for the lightning shield. Without hesitation, without remorse, she leapt into the ranks.

  With each alchemist she felled, the defense waned. As the twin blades snuffed out the life of the sixth Fye-wielder, the barrier gave way, and lightning consumed all life this end of the alley.

  Hidden behind a barrel, Vince thought himself completely safe. Unfortunately, he underestimated the destructive potential of the Shadow’s Envoy.

  Vince felt himself blinded by the explosion of light followed by the death screams of soldiers. He had made sure to stay a safe distance away, but it did little to save his sight. The tremendous cracking noise echoed throughout the alleyway as sparks of electricity generated enough light to illuminate two blocks in every direction.

  When he regained all of his senses a minute later, Vince realized the entire alley was unusually quiet, especially considering the amount of violence that must have just ensued. Mustering up enough courage to investigate, he moved toward the battlefield, to find that the Shadow and his surviving entourage had disappeared. All that was left was a site of complete carnage. Charred remains littered the alleyway as the pungent smell of burnt flesh filled the air. Gingerly, Vince stepped forward, his eyes searching for anything salvageable. There was no point looking for survivors, as it was obvious there would be none for him to find.