Emperor's Shadow (Elite Book 1) Read online

  A glimpse of light caught his attention, and Vince moved closer to investigate. Reaching out, he tried to touch a warped alchemical weapon, and quickly recoiled in pain. The metal had heated up during the intense surge of electricity, and was searing to the touch. Frustrated, he eyed the prize, uncertain what to do next.

  Having always been a boy who thinks on his feet, Vince began taking off his shirt, intending to use it to salvage the precious metals that would undoubtedly still fetch a good price.

  “So eager to get naked in public?” a familiar voice teased from the end of the alley. Minzy appeared from behind the corner, flanked by an entire entourage of Dragons. The enforcer let out a loud whistle. “This is your handiwork no doubt; pretty impressive, V. Pretty damn impressive,” he mocked, clapping lazily.

  Vince quickly pulled the shirt back on over his head.

  The group of Dragons behind Minzy rapidly fanned out and began sifting through the site of the battle, a dozen pairs of gloved hands digging into the charred remains.

  “It took you a while to get here,” Vince commented, straightening his shirt.

  “And you are too stupid to stay away. Our trackers reported on the Elites’ movements the moment they entered the zone; we just had too much common sense to get this close,” Minzy retorted, pointing at Vince. All around him, flashes of metallic gleam quickly flickered as the scavengers picked up and pocketed the parts with efficiency. The Dragon took several steps toward Vince, but stopped at arm’s length. Reaching out, he pinched the Wolf’s bicep. “Still got a long way to go, kid,” he declared, shaking his head in disapproval.

  Vince shook off his friend’s hand. “I’m older than you.”

  A scavenger gracefully stepped up behind Minzy, and tapped the bigger boy on the shoulder. The two broke into a quiet exchange. Vince stood by and watched in silence, as it wasn’t a bright idea to intrude on the affairs of other gangs. Especially since his presence at this site could be considered an act of aggression. According to the pact between the gangs, the Dragons would have proper cause to get violent, since the site was within Dragon territory, and Vince did not receive their patriarch's blessing.

  Certain that with whatever was going on, he would have a few moments to himself, Vince took the chance to mull over the events. The battle that just happened was undoubtedly triggered by political reasons. But why was such an elite company heading south, led by one of the most powerful men in the nation?

  Looking around, he was forced to admit to himself that he envied the combat prowess of the Shadow. Although the man had the help of eight other elites, the sheer destructive force of the lightning blast was unbelievable.

  Among the exterminated assassins there had been other alchemists doing their best to shield themselves, yet the result was still numerous smoldering corpses.

  That was the kind of power Vince wanted, the kind of power he needed to change the world.

  “Don’t hurt yourself thinking,” Minzy interrupted his musing. The enforcer had finished his little conference, and the scavengers dispersed in all directions. Now he stood grinning at Vince while toying with something metal in his right hand. “They weren’t happy to see someone from another gang at such a treasure trove.”

  Vince snickered. “What are you going to do, kill me?”

  “They want me to search you to make sure you didn’t pocket anything,” Minzy admitted. “And if you are wondering, they ran away just in case a fight breaks out.”

  “That’s pretty stupid; you shouldn’t fight me without backup,” Vince attempted to dismiss casually, but he found his fist tightening, and his body preparing for battle. As much as the two orphans shared an understanding, and maybe even friendship, the highest loyalty was always to the gang. Had Lucia commanded it, Vince would strike down Minzy despite his personal feelings. Maybe this was the moment he would have to kill a friend.

  Killing wasn’t something Vince shied away from, as mercy wasn't a luxury the orphans could afford. Violence was simply another part of life on the streets. He had been only eight when it first became necessary to take the life of another child. Granted, it was in self-defense, but Vince never felt good about it. Over time, the body count had slowly but steadily added up. But sometimes, when he was alone, the voices of the dead haunted him, whispering his name. Could he ever sleep again? Hearing Minzy’s voice calling out to him in the middle of the night?

  A metal projectile flew toward him, and reflexively, Vince caught it with his hands. Quickly, he gritted his teeth in anticipation, and clenched his fists. His heels dug into the ground behind him, and his thighs and calves tensed up, ready to push off in an instant to propel his body forward in a full sprint. But as Vince looked up to seek out a weak spot, Minzy was standing completely still, grinning with a look of intense satisfaction.

  The Dragon laughed heartily. “Wow, you are really uptight.” Minzy picked his nose casually. “Geez.”

  Vince stood upright, embarrassed, but still attempted to salvage some pride. He opened his palm to examine the projectile. “This?” Vince’s eyebrows perked up in surprise.

  “Something to keep you motivated,” the Dragon said dismissively, and flicked his booger onto the ground.

  Vince stood speechless as he cupped the Academy Sigil in his palm. Whatever material it was made from, the shape had not changed at all from the powerful alchemical blast. The Ivy Leaf remained as bright and beautiful as ever.

  “That could be us one day; we’ll have the power to do that,” Minzy exclaimed, pointing to the carnage with hopeful eyes.

  Vince looked at his friend with uncertainty. Does he realize how close we were to fighting to the death?

  Minzy turned back, and their eyes met. It was then that Vince realized there was no doubt the two of them were on the same page. Should push come to shove, neither would hold back.

  Minzy patted his pockets, which made sounds of metal rattling. “I got a couple more; amazing how many people died to take out just a few Elite Alchemists.” Without sparing a glance, the Dragon enforcer began leaving down the other end of the alley. “See you in two months, my friend. I’ll be ready, and I expect you to be, too.” He paused for a moment to glance back. “And you should probably get out of here. The army will arrive at any moment.” With that, the enforcer disappeared behind a corner.

  Vince turned the Sigil over in his hand, and then took his friend’s advice. As the boy sprinted home, he tucked the prize under his shirt.

  Chapter 7: Accusation

  Slowly, the head advisor backed off, unwilling to risk the emperor's ire. After all, as reasonable as Triton was, he could be … touchy at times. Having survived years in the Imperial Court, the advisor knew when to simply bow and give the emperor some space.

  “Why are the missives always so damn verbose? Suspected rebel activity? You've been suspecting the same thing every day for years!” grunted Triton. “Unless something new happens, do not bother me with this same old report.” Triton waved his arms and dismissed the royal court. Despite their devotion to the emperor, the Elites took their leave without protest, bowing courteously on the way out.

  As the room cleared out, Triton once again lost himself in his own mind. Something was bothering him, he just couldn't figure out what. He tapped a finger against the throne in contemplation. And before long, a commotion could be heard from outside the hall. Moments later, the door burst open with more force than usual, and Manus entered, combat boots clomping against the cold marble floor.

  “You are usually much more subtle, dear brother,” Triton teased, before catching the bitter look on Manus's face. “Again?”

  “More than a hundred this time.” Manus scanned the room, and found none of the Imperial Guards willing to meet his eyes.

  Triton shook his head in disapproval. “That won't do.” Setting the missives aside, he descended the stairs to take a closer look at his Shadow. The emperor examined his brother from head to toe, checking for signs of injury.

  Manus cleared
his throat uncomfortably. “I'm fine.” Even though it had been decades since Triton had ascended to the throne, brotherly instincts never go away.

  “This is my fault.” Triton sighed softly.

  “No. This is simply the greed of lesser men,” Manus dismissed. Reaching out, he touched the right side of the emperor's stomach, where numerous scars were concealed under the elegant robe.

  Reflexively, Triton took a step back.

  “Are you getting worse?” Manus inquired, voice laced with concern. The Imperial Guards might overhear him, but it mattered little. Those men and women spent all their waking hours guarding the emperor; they would have to be blind to not notice something wrong with their liege.

  The emperor's sigh answered the question well enough.

  Manus clenched his fists angrily. “Well, they couldn't even wait for nature to take its course.”

  Triton shook his head. “I still got a few good years left in me, dear brother. I don't suppose you want this throne?”

  “I'll pass.” Manus allowed himself a smile. “Anyway, there aren't that many people who can field an assassination squad that size. I bet my money on that Lucien.”

  “You just don't like how he insists on you addressing him as High Chancellor. Besides, there’s also Emelia, whom you never seem to suspect,” Triton replied.

  “Nothing happened between us,” the Shadow protested.

  “What if I command you to be honest?”

  “Then I'll have to tell people your embarrassing stories about women.”

  Triton smirked. “Well played, Brother.”

  “I accept your surrender,” Manus dismissed, and took a mocking bow. “However, perhaps it is time to pay her a visit.”

  With that, he fired a grapple toward a tall window. The hook latched on without difficulty, and the gear began to spin immediately. Effortlessly, the Shadow made a dramatic exit through the window.

  Triton shrugged at a Royal Guard who had glanced over. “He’s the showoff in the family.”

  Supreme General Emelia sat quietly in her study, her expression unreadable. Despite being a woman of extreme wealth and power, she never placed much value in opulence. Even though she spent large portions of her day in this room, her crimson hair provided the only hint of color in the otherwise drab space.

  Two large cups of tea steeped in front of her; the vapor rising from them attested to the warmth and freshness of this brew.

  Emelia absentmindedly reached for her mug and took a tiny sip, her eyes fixated on the reading. For a well-staffed manor, today was strangely quiet. A gentle breeze made the general look up in amusement. All the windows and doors were shut; the flow of air could only mean one thing.

  “A bit rusty aren't you, Manus?” the general inquired with disinterest, to no particular direction.

  A moment later, the Shadow dropped down from the ceiling and landed softly on the other side of her desk.

  “Merely surprised you remember my favorite brand,” Manus explained, and reached for the untouched cup of tea.

  “I never forget,” Emelia replied as she examined Manus, her olive eyes sizing him up. She then sighed, as if disappointed by what her eyes beheld.

  “It seems you knew I would come.”

  “Of course I did; you are always so predictable.” The general finally put down her book after carefully marking the page. Without taking her eyes off the visitor, she took a sip of her tea with casual motion.

  “Yet you didn't take precautions in case I'm here to kill you,” Manus mused.

  “Like I said, you are always so predictable.” She stood up and walked around the desk to stand next to Manus. “Besides, you wouldn't hurt dear old me.” Reaching out, she playfully pinched his biceps through his thick combat robe.

  Manus felt his heart stir, part of his instinct urging him to reach out and take her into his arms. Years of training and well-honed discipline barely allowed him to keep his composure. By the Rift, she is still beautiful and cunning as ever. Dangerous, too, no doubt, he reminded himself. Besides, it's been ... must have been decades since they first drifted apart. Maybe she no longer held it against him. “You mean you would love to see me try,” he answered finally. As skilled and experienced as Manus had become over the years, the supreme general's prowess was peerless.

  “Perhaps.” She sat back down, seemingly unimpressed with what she felt. “Say what you came here to say, then get out. I'm busy.”

  “Such a drastic change of tone, my dear.”

  “Because you never come to me with good news. In fact, you never come see me anymore at all.”

  Manus had waited for years to address this issue, but it was not the right time. After all, he was here on official business. He began, “Did you—”

  “No,” Emelia snapped, and before Manus could interrupt, she continued. “Just because I manage the military doesn't mean I don't have my sources in other affairs. And before you go on a wild hunt to find my spies, it wasn't any of the Imperial Guards. It's quite amazing how blindly loyal they are.”

  Of course they are, Manus thought. All the guards around Triton were raised from a young age to respect and worship the crown. Their lack of families also robbed them of the most common vulnerabilities. A group of people deprived of most pleasures in life fiercely defending the most privileged in the realm. Even Manus had to acknowledge the irony in that.

  Emelia set her teacup down, with perhaps bit more force than was necessary. “I am still trying to decide whether to be flattered or offended you would suspect me.”

  “I guess you are going to tell me that if it were you, you wouldn't have failed?” Manus snapped, tired of being talked down to.

  Emelia merely looked at him, her expression blank.

  Seizing the moment, the Shadow continued, “You thought you were so clever, Lia, you always did. Everything's a game to you.” How appropriate that, after years of not speaking to each other, they would get into a fight in less than five minutes. “I lost some of my most trusted Elites, and my Riftborn Rend today in the attack. I'm not in the mood to be trifled with.”

  For the first time, the general seemed troubled. “I find it strange you give those creatures names,” she let out finally.

  That was just the wrong thing to say.

  Throughout the years, Manus had been fortunate enough to be given three different Riftborns to command. While in public, he kept them chained up, as demanded by Imperial law. But he treated them with the same respect given to the rest of his troops when in the privacy of his manor. He was always too proud to admit it, but there were certain codes of the Empire that troubled him. “That's your problem, Lia. People mean nothing to you. Just because we treat them like animals, it doesn't make them less human.” In his anger, Manus seized Fye without realizing it, and his clenched first pulsed with power.

  Despite knowing he'd be outgunned, Manus called upon alchemy, and the chemicals around him converged and funneled into his body. Meanwhile, Emelia made no move at all, but merely looked at him with an expression he wasn't familiar with.

  Empowered by the fuel burning within him, Manus took a step forward with an air of authority. “You are under suspicion of treason against the throne. And I represent the will of the emperor, whose authority supersedes all. Now, I ask you, what do you have to say in your defense?”

  For a few moments, two of the most powerful alchemists in the realm simply locked eyes. Then, finally, the general broke the silence. “It wasn't me because,” she looked away, “I forgave you years ago.”

  To Manus, she might as well have broken into a song professing her love. For all the years they had known each other, this was as personal and emotional as she had ever allowed herself to get. All the anger and sense of duty melted away in the moment of surprise. For all of Emelia’s strength and will, she actually looked hurt.

  For the first time in a long while, Manus wasn't sure what to do. And so the Shadow pulled up a chair, sat himself down, and sipped his tea quietly.


  Chapter 8: Confrontation

  Vince arrived back home to see his worst nightmare come true.

  It was business as usual in the zone. Very few people walked around as the daylight began to fade, but that was to be expected. The few residents who passed by the front of the orphanage paid the children no mind in their rush to return home. But the moment Vince approached the entrance to the orphanage, his heart sank.

  There stood Lucia, her arms crossed, feet tapping impatiently. Despite it being completely illogical, his mind told him that, somehow, she knew everything. PANIC! his adrenaline-filled body told him. JUST RUN AND LIVE! Luckily, what was left of his common sense prevailed, and he slowed to wave at his sister, while putting forth an innocent look. The last thing he wanted to do was let her know how close he had been to danger.

  Lucia spoke first as he approached. “Really? You had to sneak out?”

  Oh, please, let this be the reason she’s upset, Vince thought. “I got a little curious, about the parade, I mean.”

  The naturally suspicious gang leader looked at her brother from head to toe, and sniffed the air. “Something is different,” she decided with a nod.

  “What are you, an actual wolf?”

  “Don't get wise with me, V. Not after what you did today,” Lucia stated as her face turned sour.

  Assuming the cat was out of the bag already, Vince took the emblem out of a fold in his shirt, and tossed it to Lucia, who caught it lazily. Instead of being alarmed, she simply flipped it over, unimpressed. “This is where that nasty burnt smell came from.” She tossed it back, and the metal bounced off of his forehead.

  “Ouch!” the boy cried out indignantly. “It's made of real Rudium.”

  At the mention of the precious substance, several passersby turned their heads, their interest suddenly piqued.