The Last Son of Dominus: Chapter 1

Pure, untainted, blood sprayed along an altar constructed from the forgotten ruins of Castle Dominus, the ancestral home of the ShadowFire clan. Crimson streamed from the jagged edge of a dagger, still hot from plunging repeatedly into the heart of the now gruesome sacrifice. Ragged breaths echoed behind a once gleaming mask of silver, now splattered with blood and smudged in areas from a brief, yet futile struggle. The cries of a young child still echoed in the ears of the hooded executioner as he stood in the darkened chamber, those desperate screams of agony and pleas for mercy forever haunting this place of evil. Storm grey eyes surveyed the altar before him, taking in the still form of a young man just entering his manhood. His once white robes were ruined, as was his breast, which had only moments before drew breath. The boy’s body sprawled across the black altar, the evidence of his thrashing and squirming before the blade pierced his flesh.  His face was frozen in terror, and those steel-blue eyes stared into the empty depths of the void.

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Vieft’s eyes opened violently, only to find a frightened mirror image staring back at him. Beads of sweat had formed on his brow and his heart raced to pass boiling blood through his veins. Closing out he vision from his mind, he took a deep breath to regain his composure, as he had countless times before. The servants continued their work in ignorance of the nightmarish vision their young lord had endured, dressing him in simple robes of white, green, and gold adorned with bronze shoulder plates held together with a thick forest green cord. The prince of the growing Dominus Imperium had seen fifteen autumns and would soon prove his worth in the eyes of a harsh taskmaster – Emperor Magnis himself. Vieft had endured years of grueling training sessions in preparation for his coming trials, yet he still did not feel he was ready. His father had become increasingly callous in recent months, despite the successful annexing of the neighboring kingdom of Cedagald. Though there was little challenge to this recent conquest, the expansion of the Imperium to the Cedagald River was cause enough for a victory feast. It was a time for all of the generals and their wives to gather in praise before their leader and compete for his favor. Vieft always felt out of place during the celebration of the slaughter of otherwise peaceful nations, but to deny the great and mighty Magnis was akin to welcoming death itself.

With smiles of approval, the house mistress that supervised the servants adorned Vieft’s head with a bronze circlet with white cloth that would cover all but his face. “Milord, I so hope that you approve,” she said in a well-rehearsed and practiced tone. Dark hair spilled over the circlet in most places, and the robes were bigger than he would have normally preferred. Regardless, he nodded in agreement so that the servants might finally depart his chambers for the night. Following the gesture of acceptance they departed, one after another with the house mistress closing the door once the last had exited. The entire room was then filled a dreadful silence as Vieft tried to mentally prepare for the masquerade that lay ahead. Inside, he wanted to flee in fear and leave all he knew behind. He was not so naïve. Though the war was over for now, marital law was ever-present within the palace and in the lands in its proximity. If the rumors of the Emperor being all-seeing were true, then Vieft would not even make it to the main gates before being set upon by his father’s honored band of thugs and enforcers. For now, the game would be played and the masquerade would continue – for his sake as much as for those he cared for.

A soft knock upon his chamber door brought Vieft from his darkening thoughts. “It is unlocked,” his voice called out after taking a steadying deep breath. He reached for his white gloves as one of the palace guards entered the room, although he did not turn immediately to face him. He could feel the man’s glare upon him, impatiently awaiting the young prince to finish his preparations so that they could escort him to the dining hall. While commoners would have seen this as an honor to nobility, it was much more like prison interment. He was not to leave his chambers unsupervised and not without at least one of these embittered soldiers to watch his every move like a hawk. Many were disgraced warriors who sought redemption in the eyes of their lords by taking duties that seemed menial and beneath them. Others simply did not see a future or any chance for upward mobility, and their frustration had lead to corruption and apathy for their assignments. Either way, Vieft rarely felt he was safe while one of the guards were present, and time would tell if his instincts proved true.

After several more moments, the young ShadowFire steeled his will and turned to face the young guard. Without a word to him, or any of the guards who waited outside, Vieft strode gracefully from his sleeping chambers and down the hall towards their inevitable destination. The marble and gold that few but the Emperor could afford were merely decoration to Vieft, even as he passed by the endless treasures that lined the hall leading to where dignitaries from all over the territories were already gathering. Familiarity with the path and the knowledge that a bloody price was paid for many of the artifacts and trophies of conquest removed the luster of the entire palace and everything in it. His steps sounded much lighter than the seasoned soldiers to his left, right and rear, though they were with equal purpose. They were all united in their desire to see tonight’s festivities done with good haste. As they quickly walked to the tall and heavy wooden doors that would lead to the banquet hall, Vieft’s pace slowed drastically, causing the guards to pause. Before they could react, Vieft’s hands opened the door wide and he entered the room like a triumphant warrior, full of confidence and grace. It was the mask he was given to wear, the disguise prescribed to one in such a visible place in the Imperium. He arrogantly walked past the servant who announced his arrival and moved towards the throne of the Emperor and his bride. Coming to a halt between the two velvet-lined marble thrones, Vieft bowed deeply in reverence to Magnis with practiced precision.

“Mighty Lord and Sovereign of Dominus, your name echoes through the land, and praises to you reach the heavens. May the gods expand your empire and favor you from now until eternity.”

A single gesture of Magnis’s hand dismissed Vieft. Thankfully, he rose and  avoiding the gaze of the Emperor the best he could.  There was no need to go beyond the formality of their exchange, as Vieft knew well his place in his father’s eyes—an heir to be groomed to maintain their lineage and little else.  The prince recalled the last time their eyes met, when the illusion of a father-son relationship between them was shattered for all time.  It was shortly after his sixth birthday nearly a decade ago, in the early winter.  The Legions returned from a failed invasion on the Kingdom of Teska, one that Magnis had hoped would have succeeded far before the harsh winter beset his armies.  On his journey to the capitol in the footholds of the Inion mountains, he stopped at the palace where Vieft had awaited his arrival with baited breath.  Instead of a warm greeting from his father, he was dismissed and ignored for several weeks. 

Upon one morning, he finally sought out his father and found him in preparations to depart.  When he tried to embrace Magnis and prevent his departure, he met those cold blue eyes which froze him down to the core of his very being.  "Weakness shall not be tolerated from you, boy.  Have no doubt in your mind that the moment you yield to your petty emotions and your fickle heart, that is when one with no emotion and no heart will take from you all that you hold dear. It is only the strong that shall survive in this world, those with iron wills and the means to claim that which is yours.  Until you understand this, you shall be unfit for the blood that flows in your veins.  Until then, you are unworthy of the ShadowFire name. Now be gone, your Emperor has duties of greater import." With a firm push, the young prince was cast aside, his cheeks still red and wet from the tears he could not help but shed.  As he watched the armored emperor depart with his retinue of soldiers, he vowed that man would never see weakness in him again—never again would he shed a tear. After that day, he would never seek the gaze of the man he called father.

“And to you, Lady ShadowFire and bride of the Emperor, may your beauty be remembered through the ages and your wisdom bring great fortune to our family and to the people of our great Imperium.”

His steel-blue eyes met that of the lady ShadowFire – his mother. She was a vision of beauty and elegance, her skin fair and white without blemish. Long, dark brown hair was braided tightly with threads of gold woven into her hair to further its shine in the torchlight. Vieft remembered a time when he was very young when her brilliant azure eyes flickered with life and shined like sapphires in the sunlight. Her hands once nurtured the great gardens that surrounded their home when he was still a very small boy. Flowers, both exotic and mundane, brought brilliant color to the fields and perfumed the very air for great distances.  He still remembered the soft touches she would give him, the little ways in which she expressed her love to her only son.  Now they were dulled and dim, weary from hiding the sorrow and pain she had endured for many years.  Vieft knew that his father’s frequent absence and harsh words had stolen her vitality as surely as he knew the sun would rise in the morning.  Her son could see through the curtains and over the walls she built to keep others from seeing her suffering, though there was little he could do to console her. She lived for her children and wept over the distance between her and those she cared for most.  Arianna, the brave and sorrowful empress, gave her prince a loving, although brief smile before looking onward again and allowing that wondrous smile to fade once more into nothing.

After the conclusion of his performance in honoring Magnis, the prince moved off towards his appointed place for this occasion, a decorated table to the far side of the chambers. A man no older than he humbly pulled out the chair Vieft was to sit in and with the wave of the young man’s hand he left to attend other matters now that the royal family was seated.

“I was impressed,” a soft voice said to him from across the table, causing Vieft to look up and smile knowingly to one so familiar to him. His sister, Alis, who now sat across from him with a beauty and grace that rival their mother, was the closest friend and confidant he had ever had. As long as they could remember, they were the only children within the palace gates and thus could only play with one another while their father was away. Late at night, they would run the fields around the palace while under guard, enjoying each other’s company in the warm summer night’s air. They had always shared their most intimate secrets with each other, as well as their fears.

Vieft smiled at the older girl, her blonde ringlets framing her face like a masterful portrait. “My practice has been worth it then. Was it so obvious?”

Alis raised her chin as she always did when she engaged in a battle of wits. “To some,” she whispered before shifting in her seat to observe the growing roar amongst the dignitaries. Vieft postponed their playful exchanges and directed his attention to a well-dressed man with the features of a blue-blooded nobleman desperately trying to hide the effect of time on his aging face. The young ShadowFire knew Minister Bost by reputation alone, an aristocratic governor who believed that that oppression led to commoner obedience – he was overtly cruel to his enemies and subjects both, but would never dirty his hands or risk endangering his own life. He was one of the many men that sought favor with the emperor and as a result Vieft could barely stand his presence.

“Lords and Ladies,” he began, motioning his hands to the others that they might grant him the floor. “I am sure that we are all eager to begin the nights festivities in honor of our grand Emperor and his many conquests. Perhaps we should begin with toasts and words of praise, following the example of young prince Vieft?”

A flush of both embarrassment and anger filled Vieft’s face at the man’s usage of his name. Somehow it made him uncomfortable to be a reference or tool in the courts, his name being so lightly used by a traitorous, cruel, and sinister viper of a man. He would not let his discomfort show and was among the first to take the toasting glass in hand. Alis followed suit, smirking as her brother convincingly concealed his inner turmoil. It seemed like hours passed as the majority of the dignitaries all stood to offer a greeting and toast from their respective nations, each vying for the attention of their liege and attempting to better the one who spoke before. Vieft nearly had to refill his glass, though the final toast was made before he would resort to such an embarrassment. A nod to the majordomo from his highness signified the beginning of the feast. Roasted pork, fowl, and other delicacies were delivered systematically to each table and the most beautiful of the palace servants were chosen to pour the finest wine for each patron. Soon the aroma of the dining hall grew thick with exotic spices and savory dishes, enough to make even the most reserved parties eager.  Once each table was served, the Emperor himself took part in the bounty, signifying the time for all to eat as well.

During the course of the meal, the dignitaries talked shop, bragged of their gains and undoubtedly plotted and schemed against one another. Alis and Vieft shared a simple meal as they always had with light, witty conversation. Theirs was a world devoid of politics and intrigue, yet to be corrupted by the realities of the harsh world outside of the palace walls. This night, they were simply privileged young adults with little care in the world. Even the startling vision Vieft experienced only a few hours earlier escaped his active thoughts – for now.

“I am being given a duty abroad soon, Vieft,” Alis shared after a long pause in conversation.  “It would seem that I have been asked to become an ambassador to the rulers of our protectorates, spreading good will and such on behalf of the Emperor and our family.”

“Is that right?” Vieft would reply, giving her an analytic eye. “Perhaps a mistake has been made?”

“And why would you say such a thing, milord?” Alis replied in mock anguish at his accusation.

“For someone so accustomed to a life of privilege, this may be quite a difficult endeavor… you may have to ask a sovereign to reschedule because of a lack of expensive dresses,” Vieft continued, winking to ensure she knew he was jesting.

“I will not!” Alis reassured him as she flicked his hand with a well-manicured nail.  Both of them shared a smile and laugh at the idea before continuing with the food before them.

At the conclusion of the meal, when most of the guests were full of spirits and more loud and arrogant than when they had arrived, a group of entertainers from the kingdom of Aradan took the floor. A quartet placed themselves opposite the Imperial throne across the hall while several scantily clad dancers aligned themselves in the middle of the gathered dignitaries. With a clap of the conductor’s hand, a sweet, sensual song and dance commenced, rousing the drunken crowd of men and women alike. The young prince could not help but watch, his boyish curiosity getting the better of him to the amusement of his older and wiser sibling. Though her brother was noble and genuine of heart, his knowledge of women was obviously lacking. The group went through several sets of various moods and styles, from passionate to sorrowful with none lacking beauty before Vieft got a feeling of uneasiness. From Vieft’s blindside, one of the Emperor’s Enforcers approached the throne of his master. He tried not to glace towards the exchange, as the dark-haired and battle hardened warrior knelt and spoke to Magnis in hushed tones. Briefly, he looked away to his mother, who displayed the appearance of mirth though its degree, authenticity, and comfort to her soul were all questionable. His eyes wandered back as the Enforcer stood again, bowed deeply, and looked about for interlopers or those who paid too much attention to the brief audience. Before suspicion could be placed on the young prince, his interest returned to the dancers and he poured his attention on their gyrations and their cheering audience. The feeling of unease only grew stronger and stronger until he felt his gaze wander back to the Emperor’s throne where he met a gaze so frigid that it seemed to dispel the previous warmth of the dining hall. For a moment, their eyes were fixed, Vieft’s wide as he sensed a certain familiarity within them – something akin to deja’vu.

“Brother?” Alis questioned softly, placing her smooth hand over her brother’s even as it trembled on the table. It was enough to break the trance and grace Vieft’s passage back to reality. He shuddered visibly, shaken from the soul-chilling moments his eyes met those of his father after so many years. He could hear his sister’s voice calling him by name but it was drowned out by the cacophony of thoughts and emotions that threatened to overcome him. Finally, the ShadowFire heir stood from his seat and simply left the hall with few of the attendants the wiser.

“Vieft!” Alis’s voice called out into the darkness, her slippers whispering along the marble floor in pursuit of her friend. Panting softly from running about the halls, the princess slowed to a stop to regain her composure.  Hazel eyes searched the darkened halls for signs of his passage, but it was a long shadow that gave the necessary sign she needed. Soon, she joined her troubled brother on a balcony overlooking the vast mountainous landscape east of the palace. Two of the four Gentarian moons, Ral and Massa, filled the night sky with pale silver light enough to read or travel by. Slowly, Alis moved to her brother’s side and let the silken trim of her amber gown touch the ground. There was a thick silence between them, uncharacteristic of their close relationship, as Vieft seemed completely oblivious to her presence.

“Did the dancers finally become too much for you brother?” she teased, though her goal of opening conversation failed. Vieft remained distant, his clouded vision directed far away from her and his mind farther still.

“Emor,” she called him as she took one of his hands into hers, hoping that the contact and term of endearment given to him during their childhood would free his mind to share his thoughts. “What is it that troubles you so?”

“I had a terrible vision tonight, the same that has haunted me for some time,” he began, looking down at his older sister to reassure her she had his attention. In her eyes he saw genuine concern, her face betraying the worry in her heart. “Nothing more. Nothing to worry you with.”

“Vieft!” she exclaimed, loud enough to express her displeasure but not enough to alert anyone who might be walking past the balcony. “Do not leave me in darkness ‘for my own protection.’ Tell me what has upset you.”

The prince sighed and then nodded. “I apologize, Alis,” he began anew, his gaze drifting back towards the ever-darkening horizon. “I have noticed something different in our father – in the palace at large. Something sinister is to occur. I cannot explain it, but I can feel it in my soul.”

Alis’s eyes diverted from that of her brother’s. “I have felt it as well. I fear for Mother and her welfare – and I fear for you.” Her eyes returned to him now, her will chasing away her doubt and uncertainty. “Remember we are ShadowFire. The blood of kings flows through us. Our hearts must be brave, and our wills resolute if we are to bring pride onto our family name. One day, you will be the ruler of this vast empire that is expanding even now. Let nothing hinder you and the claiming of you birth right.”

Vieft smiled warmly for a moment, having longed for such words from his beloved sister. She had a tongue of gold able to inspire men to great deeds though it seemed she only used it to lift his discouraged spirit to glory. “I shall retire now, brother,” she whispered, rising to place a gentle kiss upon her brother’s brow – a blessing meant to ease his mind and better his sleep. “Dwell on my words and abandon your fear. The gods bless the days coming before you.”

The two siblings bid each other goodnight, Alis squeezing her brother’s hand before departing to her chamber. Vieft remained on the balcony a while longer, his eyes still seeing nothing but strife on the horizon.

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"Your technique still needs work Vieft," words he often heard during his training sessions. Despite his respect for the art of swordsmanship, he was frankly tired of repeating the same drills and performing the same moves only to get the same criticism. Regardless, he sat with his legs crossed and his wooden sword at his side and watched the officer that had become his instructor and the closest thing to a brother he had. The blonde-haired soldier, who would only give his last name to discourage attachment between himself and his young pupil, was among the few of the palace guard that could be trusted. Honor was his touchstone, and he believed that he was destined for a greater purpose, for his life to mean something more than fruitless details and meaningless assignments. Yet over the last year, they had become somewhat fond of one another, though neither would admit it. Under his tutelage, Vieft had become a fairly proficient swordsman; able to spar long enough with his teacher to prove he was ready for yet more training. His steel-blue eyes watched the subtle movements and graceful foot work of the young officer and felt a tinge of jealously. He heard Pennock's voice, but did not listen to his words as he corrected the prince in the same way he always did.

"Now do you understand?" he asked in a controlled tone, trying not to reveal his frustrations. Vieft was better than half-hearted effort, and could be even better than he ever expected if he only committed himself to the art. After a nod of acknowledgement, Pennock motioned for Vieft to stand and secure his weapon. The two met swords together, an act of respect before their next exercise would occur. Pennock set a slow speed as they reviewed each move, a high slash, low slash, lunge to both sides and ending with a parry as the other initiated the same combination. All went well through the first and second rotations, but as the speed increased, Vieft's recklessness became apparent. His attacks were too obvious and too aggressive for his level of skill. On the defense, he hesitated while trying to remember where the next blow would come from. Pennock groaned at his pupil's shortcomings and turned his back to a seemingly apathetic student.

"We have come too far for games, Vieft. Soon enough you will be expected to defend the honor of your family name and prove yourself worthy as a heir." Pennock turned back towards the dark haired prince. "We will continue until you have mastered this drill."

Again, they repeated the steps. "Use your senses! Feel where your opponent is vulnerable-feel where he will strike you next and foil him."

"I do not have the skill," Vieft responded, his own frustrations getting the better of him. Yet as his anger grew, so did his skill, as the fear of failure seemed distant from his mind. The pace of the drill increased, nearly matching that of a true battle. Sensing that Vieft had broken through whatever had hampered his efforts before, Pennock parried his last attack, and spun into a finishing slash, the tip of the wooden sword and inch away from meeting the bridge of the prince's nose. Vieft instinctively leaned back, nearly losing his balance before his wide eyes lock onto his instructor.

"Good, Vieft. I am sure you could tell the improvement. But never become overzealous enough to forget there are better swordsmen. There is always going to be one greater with the blade."

Vieft nodded in agreement, humbled by the potentially fatal error. Losing control in battle could be the death of an overzealous swordsman. Pennock motioned for him to be seated and Vieft obeyed. The young officer had every quality of knighthood, and among his virtues was his wisdom. He had first wielded a sword as a young boy against bandits who assaulted his family as they traveled to their farm from a trip to town. His father, a former knight, had raised each of his sons to defend themselves and his persistence had paid off when together, his valiant sons defeated the highwaymen. Pennock had fought in several other conflicts, but his superiors upon enlistment questioned his loyalty to the Imperium. Despite the setback, he proved his mettle in countless battles during the Imperium's expansion, earning himself field promotions but no lasting change to his tethered ambitions.

"Your skills have improved greatly since we began these sessions, young prince. I have no doubt that you can now hold your own with your peers and will become a great warrior with time and practice. We are, however, an Empire at war." Those dark brown eyes held those of his pupil, ensuring that every word was digested. "There will be those who would cause you harm out of revenge or desperation. You are the future of this great nation with great glory and burden on the path before you." His eyes softened and he paused before starting again. "I do not yet believe you are ready to begin your trials."

"Then we will have to get him ready!" another man called out, his voice much more hoarse then that of Pennock.

Both teacher and student turned to the origin of the voice just beyond sight. From down the trail appeared the dark-haired and sinister Enforcer that had spoken with Magnis the day before. Pennock stiffened noticeably, his mind divided between outrage at the arrogant minion’s interruption of their lesson and the honorable requirement expected of him in the presence of a superior. Vieft's eyes narrowed slightly, his dread of any enforcer only natural considering their place in the Imperium. It was said that the darker the robes of an Imperial soldier, the closer they were to the Emperor, and the blacker their hearts in equal measure.

"Lord Caron," Pennock finally greeted, "your presence is most unexpected."

"I carry word from the Emperor, prelate. You are being relieved of this duty. Report to your first-line leader for further instruction."

Pennock's shoulders instantly slumped in defeat; he wanted to protest on behalf of himself and his inexperienced pupil. However, to challenge an enforcer was to challenge the emperor - a foolish choice for one in his position. Grudgingly, he bowed before the enforcer and took a step back. "As my lord wishes." With a sharp facing movement, the loyal soldier marched towards the stairs leading to the exit.

Now there remained Vieft and the servant of his father. Once Pennock was out of sight, he dared to look upon the one called Caron. His hair was dark and kept low. The man looked much older than he should have, the elements
having taken their toll on his facial features. His status as a seasoned, battle-hardened warrior was apparent in the way he carried himself and took charge of the situation and those unfortunate to be around him.

"I shall be your new instructor," he informed the young ShadowFire. "I shall be strong where the prelate was weak and I shall mold you into a warrior fit for the blood within your veins. Now let us begin your first lesson."

A motion of the hand instructed Vieft to rise and another one for him to take his wooden sword in hand. Before he could even ready himself for a defense, the enforcer struck his left shoulder with enough force to send a shockwave of pain through the young man's body. The result was a groan of both pain and surprise as the prince reeled back away from the harsh new teacher. Caron looked over the wooden sword he used to strike his charge, waiting for Vieft to regain his composure.

"You must overcome everything that hinders you, young boy. That which you regard as weakness must become your strength if you are to survive." A dark smile came over his face as he regarded Vieft like a new toy. "Unlike your prelate teacher, I will show you little mercy."

To drive his point home, he stepped forward and struck again in the same place, increasing the painful bruise that was already forming. Vieft growled loudly, but retained control of himself despite the swelling anger in his heart. Caron simply chuckled at his apparent inability to defend himself. A third time he swung to strike Vieft's left shoulder, but this time his strike was blocked and pushed away.

"Good," he offered, though the praise was hollow. "Let your anger channel your focus to the battle at hand. Let your fury fuel the warrior's fire within your soul."

Enforcer Caron attacked again, and was again deflected by Vieft. For several more moves, Vieft proved the value of Pennock's training until a feint was followed by an elbow to the nose and a front kick to the abdomen. Vieft alternated between hisses, groans, and growls as he tried to stop the blood from escaping his nose and to regain his composure. He could feel the Enforcer standing above him and the tip of the wooden sword at his face was seen through squinted eyes.

"Upon the battlefield, no one will be present to coddle you, boy. Only the strong will survive."

Vieft nodded, taking deep breaths to settle his nerves and control the dark emotions that threatened to consume his mind-anger, wrath, hate. As his instructor moved away, the young swordsman sat up and slowly returned to his feet, readying his sword for another assault. Still hissing between his teeth and squinting through watery eyes, he saw the Enforcer beckon him to attack. Unleashing his frustration, pain, and fury into a growling battle cry, Vieft executed a number of practiced strikes only to have each blocked by a retreating Caron. Finally, after a high slash, the Enforcer grasped both of Vieft's hands and pulled him forward sharply. Assuming that the prince would lose his balance, Caron slashed at his back and was met by a masterfully executed block and the burning of Vieft's eyes. Impressed by the seemingly precognitive defense of his student, the Enforcer lowered his weapon and chuckled.

"That will be all for now. The Emperor wishes to see you in his chambers -- I suggest you prepare for the audience." After the message was relayed, the Enforcer cast aside the training weapon with a certain distain and dismissed the still battle-focused Vieft to clean himself up. The pain in his shoulder had dwindled, but his mind was still ablaze and his senses alive and buzzing. Turning away without a word, Vieft departed the training hall to head back towards his chambers. His fist was still wrapped tightly around the handle of the wooden sword, though he did not anticipate another attack. Nor did he expect a familiar voice to beckon him from behind a pillar as he passed.

"Would you grant me the privilege of escorting you, noble prince?" Pennock's eyes looked over the dazed Vieft, from his glazed eyes and bloodied nose to the weapon still tightly gripped and his tense body. Despite his apparent distance, his former pupil nodded in agreement. True to the bond they had established, the palace guard escorted his charge to his chamber with only a few words to ensure that his body could complete the short distance without assistance. The ShadowFire clan had the reputation of being a stubborn lot, and Vieft upheld his view despite his increasing weakness now that the adrenaline had drained from his veins and the throbbing pain in his head that now made even simple words and tasks more difficult. Once at his door, Pennock looked about for signs they were followed, then regarded Vieft with a measure of concern and guilt. His solemn eyes held that of his prince as he spoke softly.

"Though I have been replaced as your teacher, I will not abandon you, Vieft. I will do what I can to assist you in your coming training and trials, even risking the anger of the Emperor. I give my word that I shall not allow you to fail." Straightening up now that his pledge of loyalty was given, Pennock offered a friendly smile-something Vieft had rarely gotten from the jaded officer. "Take care for now, my Lord. My sword is at your service." He bowed, turning away, and departed to leave Vieft alone to prepare.

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The prince’s blackened, swollen eyes disturbed the guards, but Despite their initial reactions Vieft maintained his arrogant disguise as he appeared according to his father's summons. "He has been expecting you, my Lord," one of the palace guards finally said, motioning to the others to stand down. The soldiers managed to look respectful as they bowed and moved aside, and pulled the doors open for the Prince. Emperor Magnis stood in the center of the room, a towering man dressed in robes of crimson and black silk that covered both his hands and feet. Meticulously groomed hair cascaded down his back, and an aura of greatness seemed to surround him. His mere presence demanded respect and obedience, a trait befitting the Emperor of an ever-expanding empire.

"I assume that Caron did not cause you needless harm," he said in a tone that suggested sincerity - his son knew better, of course. There was little sincerity left in the man, a result of decades of political maneuvering. Vieft was not so naive as to truly believe that his welfare was of much importance to his unknowable father.

"No father," Vieft responded, his mind dwelling on his numb and tender shoulder and nose. "Nothing that won't make me stronger."

Magnis turned to face Vieft now, his hands within the hanging sleeves of his robes. There was no discernable expression of pleasure upon the emperor’s face as he turned, his broad chin unmoved and his lips as still as the grave.  The tall man crossed thick arms about his chest as he regarded the boy who aspired to inherit the throne upon some distant day. "Spoken like a true ShadowFire," he said knowingly, expressing his approval in Vieft’s response. "His prowess in battle was the reason I chose him to instruct you. Your former teacher could take you no further in your combative training."

The dark-haired young noble bowed low in acceptance, despite his disagreement. Abuse could hardly be equated to full learning of swordsmanship, but Vieft had no way to resist the desires of his father. "Yes, Father," he said before rising, hiding the distain he suddenly felt. The words of Pennock echoed in his mind for a moment before he noticed Magnis's attention leave him. A hand left its silken enclosure to beckon someone from the corner to the right behind Vieft. A bald, pale boy only a year or two younger than the prince came into view, dressed in a simple black robe and brown breeches secured by a black leather belt. Without a single word, he boldly approached the Emperor without reservation - something only the most loyal of Magnis's followers could do without impunity.

"This is Shaden, newly acquired ward of my advisor Count Nimor. The two of you will have an increasing amount of contact, as he will remain in the palace for some time." Magnis's eyes met with steel-blue, that same cold beginning to chill the air around Vieft. "Escort our guest about the palace and bring him back to my chambers when you are finished."

The young ShadowFire quickly bowed, both to express his obedience and to end their exchange once again. Vieft turned about and moved to open the door, the mysterious young man passing through the doorway without a moment's delay. The soldiers rendered the same respect to Shaden, it would seem as they did Vieft, causing the prince to wonder just who he was dealing with. As the two walked together, the prince noted the visitors posture and the way he carried himself which suggested he was far more experienced than most of the people Vieft had ever met.

"Shaden is it?" The dark-haired noble asked with the intention of breaking the silence between them. Not a word was returned.

"Have you visited the palace before? Where do you come from? What is the nature of your visit?" Every question asked was answered by unwavering silence. Vieft noticed that the guard escort had lagged further behind than usual, almost suggesting some sort of hesitation or fear on their part. Finally the two arrived at the training hall. After announcing such to Shaden, the prince turned towards the silent stranger. "Are you always so quiet?"

"Are you always so inquisitive?" Shaden retorted without even a pause or the slightest turn of his head.

Vieft hesitated a moment as he watched Shaden's expressionless face. "No," he finally replied.

"Therein lies your answer," Shaden said plainly, moving down the stairs to assess the conditions of the hall and available equipment. Vieft couldn't help but smile at the exchange and moved down the stairs to join Shaden. "There is little to tell of myself. I wake, I train, I eat, and I sleep. I was told I would remain here to facilitate in the training of an aspiring warrior."

Vieft's mind turned this revelation over in his head to get at it from all sides, as he watched the other man caress the hilt of a weapon. Competition, he thought to himself, I see now how this game will be played. "Then I assume you are proficient with the sword?"

The question caused Shaden to pause during the assessment of a training sword. "Better than any soldier in this palace, I assure you," he responded with a hint of arrogance - the second trait he exhibited during their tense conversation.

"Then I will look forward to our first spar," Vieft dared in response before turning back towards the entrance. "Now, I am sure there is much more to see. Shall we move on?"

Despite the distance which Shaden maintained to both Vieft and to his surroundings, there was one thing he could not hide - pain. It was the same expression Vieft saw in his mother, and if anyone knew what it was to live behind a mask, it was the crown prince himself. Yet while he could not aid his mother in her suffering, it would seem he had been given the opportunity to do just that for Shaden, before they parted ways.

As the tour continued, Vieft's mind returned to the trailing guards, who seemed wary of one so young. He wondered if they knew something that he didn't. Instead of dwelling on the possibility, however, he simply enjoyed the distance. It was a welcome respite from his usual act. An opportunity to let his mind rest from the exhausting duty of staying behind his mask.

The silence between the two young men, however, grew thin and prompted Vieft to speak yet again.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"No."

"Any family to speak of?"

"None. Count Nimor has been my only guardian since I was a child."

"How strange," Vieft commented, directing his attention to a painting on the wall that he had long taken for granted. "So you have been alone most of your life then?"

"Not really," Shaden responded, his pace slowing slightly due to their topic of conversation. They slowed even further when Shaden suddenly turned a piercing gaze on the prince. "Tell me, Vieft, do you know what it is to be free?"

The magnitude of the question dulled Vieft’s surprise that the ward had spoken his name without so much as a "my lord".

"What do you mean?" Vieft stammered finally, his steel blue eyes watching Shaden as they walked on.

"Do you know what it is to walk alone, without escorts and guards? To freely roam outside of these walls and live as your peers do?" There was a certain longing in his voice, perhaps the result of being denied those same experiences. Suddenly, Vieft did not feel so alone in the world.

"No," he replied, though the reaction he expected from Shaden did not come. Instead, he got a look of disappointment and a nod of understanding. It was almost as if the young man had hoped for grand tales of adventure or stories of youthful mischief. He would not find any in this temporary place of residence, just as he had not in the previous one.

"We will have to find an adventure," Vieft added quickly. He received a half-smile in response.

"Indeed we shall," Shaden replied, extending his hand in farewell, as they approached the private chambers of the Emperor once again. Vieft shook it firmly but one time, then allowed him to go onward alone. Shaden's smile quickly faded from his thin lips as he visibly steeled his will to prepare for more contact with Magnis.

We are all so very alone, even when in the company of others, Vieft thought to himself. His mind dwelled on Shaden's questions as the young prince journeyed back to his chambers. His exposure to the world beyond was limited, but his desire to explore that world was boundless. He crossed the room and stepped out onto the balcony. His eyes sought out the mountains that often captured his imagination. Another day, he promised.

With a sigh, he turned back toward his room, his mind already returning to his remaining tasks. As if in answer to his promise, a wind swept up out of the wild laced with the scent of freedom, and followed him back to his duties.