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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #1311070
The Return to Izibelica and the confessions of the Emperor's Assassin.
"What do you mean we cannot enter the city?" Vieft shouted in outrage. "Do you not see this seal?" he growled, waving the Imperial Seal at the gate guardsman who bared their passage.

"Still your tongue, boy," the guard warned through his teeth in a tone of controlled anger. "Let me remind you of a few things. First, you arrive dragging the robes of Imperial servants behind you just before nightfall. As far as I know, you two are only mere thieves who stole their robes to gain entry or even murderers who took them from the dead." As he made his point, Shaden made an effort to conceal the bloodied stains on his robes from the fight hours before.

"Secondly, you become hostile with a guardsman as soon as you are not obliged, which is an offense that could have placed in prison until your identities could be verified. And finally, I told you when you approached that an assassin was afoot and that one would enter or exit this city until that individual was captured by the city guard. Now," he said in a lower voice and subtly brought his hand to the weapon at his side, "I suggest you lads leave now in peace if your intentions are truly honorable."

"Come, Vrand," Shaden coaxed and grabbed the arm of his friend. "We will wait this out." He understood Vieft's sense of urgency to rejoin the caravan without them. But they had been through enough stress for one day, and getting hurt or jailed would be just as disastrous as being left behind.

Regardless of how logical their departure was, Vieft continued to fume as they headed for the closest place of civilization, in the form of a place called Greensfeld. Not a true town, Greensfeld was once a part of Izibellica, particularly the poorest community overall and reported to be the seedier part of the city. By building a wall between Greensfeld and Izibellica, the council assumed that crime and immorality would also be cut off from the city's population. Time would prove them wrong. Still, the landscape of the 'town' was haphazard, lacking the careful city-building planners who lived within the walls. The buildings they passed on the way into town were obviously occupied, appealing to travelers seeking diversion and debauchery close to the city gates. The further away they traveled from the gates, however, the more frequent that abandoned buildings became. Many were condemned, especially those gutted by a large fire that struck the town and nearly destroyed the place years ago. Windows were broken out by miscreant children and vermin found their home in many of the establishments. Despite the lifeless section of the town, the lights and smells of the inner city called to all who dared pass through the slums at night.

Beggars and drunkards lined the streets, the residents still celebrating the anniversary of the city a night longer. Laughter echoed about the streets, as did music, though nothing seemed to lift the weariness of fatigue from the two young wanderers. They moved from inn to inn, hostel to hostel in search of shelter, but none was to be found – the early closing of the gates meant that many were stranded and had already filled any vacancies. Still, the two shuffled from place to place, trying to remain inconspicuous the entire time.

Eventually, it was rain that ended their search. First it came in periodic sprinkles, then a torrential down pour. Desperate, they decided to find shelter in the first place they came across, an abandoned shop just outside of the inner city.

"And I thought this day couldn't possibly get any worse," Vieft groaned, standing under the vestibule of the abandoned building. "Ready?"

Shaden nodded in response, and the two entered the building with a bit of coercion on Vieft's part. Beyond the door was a fragile wooden counter covered in a mound of dust and debris that had collected over the years. An unstable looking staircase led to the upper-level. and a door hanging on by a single hinge led to what may have been a supply room. It looked as if the place hadn't been occupied in quite some time.

The blonde-haired young man quietly closed the door behind them, his eyes scanning his surroundings to discern a threat. After finding none, the two wet men began to dry out their clothes on whatever they could find. Having no intention of staying beyond the storm, they simply sat at the base of the stairs and waited there. Silence remained between the two, from both exhaustion from their hours of travel by foot and their battles before that.

"Do you think I am evil?" Shaden asked in a whisper. Pale blue eyes turned to Vieft, awaiting and hoping on a positive response.

The ShadowFire prince, however, did know how to respond. Shaden had never revealed much of himself during their friendship, but the level of violence he displayed at the tomb spoke much more than words could have. Yes, the shame he displayed showed that perhaps he had just gotten carried away–that he had a temporary lapse of control.

"No," Vieft responded finally, offering the troubled Shaden a smile. "I believe that you did what you felt necessary. That... creature would not have relented unless you had done what you did. In a way, you saved us all."

"Thank you," Shaden said with a smile, "it would seem that we make a formidable team."

The prince chuckled in response, leaning back on the he stairs. "So it would seem. Any ideas as to how we will get back to the caravan in time?"

"Well," Shaden began as he watched the storm's intensity pick up outside. "The gate will probably not be opened until tomorrow, and we have no chance at scaling the wall. Thus, we would do best by remaining under shelter until an hour before dawn and make our way to the northern gate to intercept the servants.

Vieft nodded in agreement, then looked up towards the upper level. "Then we should probably find a better place to rest our heads for the next few hours."

Their exploration of the shop's upper level revealed more three chambers. One was a room filled with dry-rotted furniture, covered in old linen and far too crowded and moldy for habitation. The second room used to be the bedroom of the shop owner, though much of the roof had collapsed into the actual chamber. Shaden closed the door quickly, scowling at being drenched once again after he had began to dry.

"I am going to the wash room," he mumbled, barely heard beneath the prince's laughter, before heading back down the staircase. As his laughter subsided, the squeaking of a door hinge grabbed his attention. Steel blue eyes looked to the third door, which had been closed when they ascended the stairs–or so they had thought. Cautiously, Vieft moved towards the open door to investigate the cause of its sudden movement. He set his hand on the handle and gave it a hard shove before taking a defensive step back.

Nothing. The window blew stormy winds into the room, but it was the most intact of the shop. We could take the door from below and board it up, he mused and continued to walk forward. Yet before he reached the window, a shadowed hand grasped his wrist. Before he could call for help, an arm was wrapped around his throat so tightly it cut off circulation to his head, making his vision explode with red stars as he struggled to free himself.

"I don't want to kill you, boy," a deep voice whispered in his ear. "But I will. Calmly tell me your name and your business here."

The pressure was released enough that the prince could hoarsely whisper the alias he had assumed. If this vagrant knew his true identity, he might have the idea of ransoming his prisoner back to the Emperor–or worse.

"My friend and I sought shelter from the storm. No more."

"Where is he now?" the man inquired, looking up at the door to ensure the staircase was blocked from view, and that his friend would not easily stumble upon their encounter.

"The washroom," Vieft answered compliantly. "Are you the assassin the guard is looking for?"

"I am, " he confessed, that hold drawing tighter. Almost instantly, Vieft regretted asking the question. Perhaps now they would either be slain or made hostages simply by knowing the man to be a fugitive. The situation was made worse as Shaden called out Vieft's name as if he had discovered something below.

"Vieft?" The man repeated the name in disbelief. Suddenly the choke was abandoned all together and the man dressed in dark robes moved to stand before the boy he had just held in his clutches. "Prince of Dominus?"

Vieft nodded sharply, prepared for the scenario he feared to become reality. Thus, he was unprepared when the man took a knee before him. "My liege! Forgive your humble servant, for I have dishonored you."

"Servant? Dishonored me?" Vieft repeated with a hint of suspicion.

"My name is Wiln, a former defender of the Emperor. I know of your family's plight and sympathize with the movement that shall return the rightful king to power–and you shall lead the Dominion people back to peace and prosperity."

"What are you saying?" Vieft said in disbelief, taking a step away from the man. "How can I be the rightful king when Magnis still rules the Imperium?"

"But it is a rule that was not meant to be and one that cannot last." For but a moment, his hand disappeared form sight. "Let me show you something,"

His expression changed from one of joy to shock with a single swing of a blade. This smile turned into a frown, then a grimace before falling at Vieft's feet. Pale blue eyes met the prince's and Shaden stood in the doorway with the bloodied weapon still in hand. That cold gaze then fell to the downed imperial defector. Steps were taken and the sword brought high to strike the fatal blow, though he would not deliver it.

"What are you doing?" Vieft demanded, righteous fury burning in his eyes. It was difficult to determine if the anger stemmed from the loss of Wiln's insight regarding the mysterious turn his life had taken or that a man's life was to be taken from him. "What have you done?"

Shaden looked to the dark-haired man before him in confusion. "He was reaching for a weapon to kill you. He was using whatever means he could think of to distract you until he could strike." For a brief moment, his _expression pleaded with the prince for acceptance. "I did what I felt I had to."

"I am sorry," a whisper interrupted the two from below. The man clutched at Vieft's pants leg, repeating the same words like a mantra. As the ShadowFire knelt down to tend to the dying man, Shaden turned his back to the entire scene. "I have something important to show you down stairs–when you are ready."

Vieft failed to see the irony of his situation, consoling the dying defector who had threatened to take his life only moments before. There wasn't much that could be done but, for Wiln, the presence of a future king was enough. Vieft had never seen a man die before, to see the light fade from his eyes and hear his last breath depart from his mouth. As the grip loosened on the prince's arm, he stood and looked down the staircase. I cannot allow myself to be distracted, he thought to himself. Someone surely saw him enter the shop, or has suspected us of being involved. We are not safe here.

With a deep breath to regain his composure, the ShadowFire stepped over the lifeless body and down the stairs to join his accomplice. In the rear of the shop, the door had been moved to the side, enough for the smaller of the two to fit. Pushing into the room, steel blue eyes noticed a store room filled with several old wooden crates and earth piled to one side. Between the two was a hole just big enough for either of them to maneuver through.

"I believe this is how he escaped the city," Shaden began, pointing at the pile of ratty blankets he had removed prior to Vieft's arrival. "If stuffed with these blankets and covered with a crate, the unsuspecting might never discover an entrance or exit."

Vieft nodded in understanding. The tunnel was probably going to be on of their best bets to enter the city in the dark of night, and their pre-dawn race to intercept the servants was not nearly as favorable. In a few hours, the city guard would most likely have completed searching the city and turn their attention to the dead areas of Greensfeld.

"Send word that the assassin was seen here and the guard will come sooner and, perhaps, pause their search long enough for us to slip into the city undetected."

With little further discussion, the two went off and started to work, one to bring forward the guard and the other to prepare for a hasty exit. In but a few minutes, Shaden returned successful to Vieft, who waved him into the hole. As soon as he jumped in and climbed into the vertical tunnel that would lead them under the walls of Izibelica, Vieft was right behind. Before he entered the tunnel, however, he grabbed the coarse rope he had found in the room and tied to the edge of the crate. With a tug and a duck, he covered their escape the best he could and sent them into an inky darkness only the earth could provide.

It would take nearly an hour of work and rest to navigate the tunnel, which narrowed in some places to give the larger Vieft a hassle. Eventually, they would emerge in a room much like the one they had found the hole in, though its upkeeping was far better than the desolate shop. Disheveled and covered in dirt, the two took a few moments to straighten their robes before opening the door before them. Beyond it was an open yard and what appeared to be a tavern ahead. The lights and laughter were much as had been the night earlier, suggesting that all was well.

"We need to hurry," Shaden reminded Vieft as he brought his robes up to shelter him from the waning rains. The prince's mind and body had become sluggish from the demands placed on him, but after a few moments he agreed. The hour was late and there was still the task of determining where they were in the city, then making the journey to the inn where the servants resided laid ahead. As the two moved to escape the storm, a voice shouted to them. "Halt! Don't you dare move!"

Both froze in place, at least long enough to assess their situation. Vieft cursed under his breath, regretting that he allowed his senses to be dulled that he could not feel the eyes that watched their every move since exiting the shed. As soon as an escape plan was formulated, several armed members of the guard advanced from all sides. Though their faces were not easily seen in the dark, their grim expressions were obvious. Unarmed and out-numbered, the two nobles surrendered to the authority of the Izibelican guard.
_________________________________________

The two young men could barely stay awake after being loaded into the back of a wagon. Several guards watched over them, their hands were bound behind their backs, and sacks of burlap were placed over their heads to ensure they would not know their whereabouts should they attempt to escape. There was little that either could do at this point but wait nervously until they reached their destination. Outside the vehicle, the man who had shouted at them was apparently negotiating for early bounty payment. The leader of the escort reminded him repeatedly that payment would no be provided until their involvement was confirmed. Eventually, he would part ways with the guards and allow his would-be assassins to be taken to the closest jail. The ShadowFire prince struggled to stay awake, though his efforts were mostly in vain. Several times, he would slip in and out of awareness, finally snapping awake once the wagon came to a halt.

"Move. Now." one of the two guards said as the back of the wagon was lowered. Forceful hands were placed on their arms to pull them to their feet and remained there to guide as they pleased. The two young prisoners did little to gain the ire of their guards, shuffling down the stone passage ways like blind mice. Once, Vieft nearly tripped, but was quickly caught and thrown back into motion. They walked a few minutes this way before being halted abruptly.

"State your names and regions," a thick, husky voice called out to them.

"Vrand Tarnos of...."

"Imperials, I see," the men interrupted, noticing the crests and cuts of their clothing. "Their crime?" He asked of the escorts.

“Suspects in the assassination plot. They were caught exiting a tunnel used as an escape route.”

“Take them down to our special unit for now then. Matters of the Imperium belong to the Imperium.”

With a shove, the group started again, this time descending down into a cold, damp dungeon. A variety of voices welcomed them, from bitter hails to maddened laughter. Vieft was glad he could not see the inmates, instead following the beacon of torchlight being carried a few feet before him. He did not know where Shaden was, though he could only hope they would be able to rely on one another until they escaped.

“Looks like you won’t leave any company”, one of the guards commented, loosening his bindings once they came to a halt. Simultaneously, his eyes were uncovered and he was imprisoned, thrown forcefully into the back wall. The cell was small and cold with a faint acrid scent from the numerous other prisoners who had dwelled in the cramped space. Surrounded by slick stone walls on three sides, his only real way of escape was through the barred door that the guards had locked. Vieft stilled his tongue until their torchlight was far down the corridor, plunging the cells into darkness. Once he felt it safe, he called out for Shaden till his voice was hoarse, never once getting a response. Alone in the darkness, he alternated between possibilities of escape and calling out for his friend before finally sitting against the wall in despair. It would seem that the proud ShadowFire would have to wait and pray for a favorable resolution.

Minutes faded into hours, the next indistinguishable from the last until the amber light returned. The sound of voices accompanied the torchlight, at least three distinct ones, but none familiar. Still, Vieft rose to his feet as they approached his cell. There were five silhouettes, four tall and one shorter then the rest. Three were soldiers, one of the guard and the other two of the Legions by the looks of their armor, and the middle wore a cloak and hood that prevented such easy recognition.

“Come forward, boy,” the guard called out impatiently. As Vieft drew closer, he squinted to shield his eyes from the bright light, but could still recognize the blonde-headed young swordsman dressed in soiled imperial robes.

“I do not recognize this one either,” a familiar voice informed the guard. “I shall require his presence for further questioning.”

“Yes, milord,” the guard replied, unlocking the gate to free Vieft. As the gate swung open, the man who ordered his release removed the hood that shadowed his features. Pennock stood before his prince with disappointment in his eyes and a face devoid of emotion. Though Vieft smiled briefly, it quickly faded as it was not returned. Shaden looked away as well when steel blue eyes fell upon him.

Looking at the two Legionaries who accompanied him, Pennock waved his hand to signal it was time to depart. Playing the part, the two young men were taken into custody and were escorted from the depths of the dungeon, past the desk and the stocky clerk who operated it, and out of the prison. An open field surrounded the two-stone building with a few storage buildings in the compound. A single carriage waited close to the entrance bearing the mark of the Imperium.

“Your services are no longer required,” the Imperial officer informed the guard, who hesitated at his dismissal. The middle-aged guardsman had a look of confusion in his eyes, but obediently bowed his head, turned, and returned to the prison to await the next set of prisoners.

“The two of you are lucky that it was I sent to find the one who attempted to assassinate the Emperor. Otherwise, things may have been quite…unfortunate.” His eyes rested primarily on his former pupil, who understood the wrath that would have befell everyone involved in their excursion. If his identity would have been made known to the local people, the result would not have been pleasant, nor would the nobility of the ShadowFire remain untarnished.

The guilty pair entered the carriage while the two Legionnaires mounted their horses in preparation to their departure. Pennock was the last to enter, the door secured behind him by the driver. Two candles still burned in the comfortable interior, though the prince wished they didn’t. Dark brown eyes bore into his skull for a long while and Vieft dared not meet the glare.

“Where did the two of you travel and with whom?” Pennock demanded, his tone much more like an interrogator and less of the ever-patient teacher of old.

“We came to the city with the supply caravan to attend festival,” Vieft offered, cautiously giving away the details of their adventure for their welfare's sake.

“ I knew that already, prince,” the officer retorted, “that is how I knew of the danger you had stumbled into. The servants were sick with worry over your welfare and my arrival was all that was necessary for them to express it. What I want to know is where you have been since the night you did not return until now.”

The dark-haired boy sighed, nodding in compliance. If he could not trust his fate to Pennock, there would be no one else to spare him from his father’s wrath.

“We found respite in a hostel during the night and traveled with an adventurer’s band during the day until night fall.”

“Were you recognized?”

“Not to my knowledge,” he said, leaving out the encounter with the assassin.

“Good. It would seem no one did,” Pennock said, relaxing slightly at the news. “I am sure we both are familiar with the consequences that may have resulted–especially if the would-be assassin had gained such knowledge.”

The memory of the dying director’s returned to the forefront of Vieft’s mind, causing him to shudder. “All is well then?” he dared, curious as to the situation at the palace.

“All is now, Vieft. At dusk, a trusted member of the Emperor’s Honor Guard attempted to shoot a poisoned arrow into the heart of your father. He was not successful.”

Vieft nodded to the news, wondering how such a well-trained soldier would have failed in his attempt, and why he would turn against his liege who had given him such privileged position.

“He then fled here, to the closest place with a dense population where he could have blended into the crowd long enough to avoid the Guard and Legions for a time. This plan failed and his body was found in an abandoned building outside of the city proper not long ago. The guards deemed that he had sustained an injury before arrival, but no blood trail was found, which suggests that he was cut down on the spot.”

Shaden remained silent and oblivious to their conversation, seemingly self-absorbed even as mention was made of his murderous deed. That silence would soon fill the carriage as the two young adventurers eventually surrendered to the slumber circumstance had denied them. Vieft would discuss further matters with his former teacher a while longer, though peace did find him at last. When they awoke, it was to the sound of voices. The door had opened and the bright light of the moon illuminated the forest wood line and the familiar wall that surrounded the palace compound. They were home.

Though they survived two nights of chaos and a day of battle, fatigue had claimed them wholly. Vieft walked the halls of the palace like the living dead, confident that no one would worry at such an early hour. After opening the door to his chamber, he navigated the living area in utter darkness, just as he had hundreds of times.

The foul robes, smelling of sweat, blood, and freshly turned earth, were cast into a pile next to his wardrobe before the young prince collapsed onto his bed and into a deep, and welcomed slumber.
______________________________________

Vieft sat on his sister's plush bed, kicking his feet about while his sister was being prepared. Several handmaidens surrounded the princess, styling her hair and applying a strange face paint to enhance her already pale complexion. Though young, her beauty and elegance were enough to make people take notice. Many had said that she was the fairest young lady in all the land, rivaled only by her mother. Alis sat erect in the chair as she had for the better part of an hour, and the discomfort was beginning to show. A wave of her hand made the maidens pause before their princess stood and stretched out her aching muscles. Vieft had never seen his sister as she was now, dressed in a tight, lacy corset of burgundy and a black silk dress. Her long, flowing hair was wrapped about her brows with intricate braids hanging from the back.

Unbeknownst to the prince, he had begun to stare. Alis blushed beneath the make-up, nervously rubbing her reddened shoulders. “Do you approve?” she asked in a small voice, now drawing attention to the young prince. As the hand maidens all looked to him and giggled, Vieft turned over onto his belly and hid his face from the girls. He would remain as such for the remainder of her preparation, occasionally peaking to note their progress.

In time, he would feel her sit next to him on the bed and run her long nails over her brother’s scalp. After laughing, he lifted himself onto his elbows and took in the vision of a woman he did not know. Alis smiled nervously and pushed some of the hair from her eyes. “Well?” she pleaded, hoping for a positive response from the boy who meant so much to her.

“You look beautiful,” the prince admitted, noting the silver bangles on her wrists, earrings in her ears and the light pink paint on her lips. She looked much older. Still, his response bolstered her confidence and she planted a gentle kiss on his brow in thanks.

“What are you preparing for?” he asked with child-like curiosity.

Alis paused for a moment, then looked away to think of how she would put words to something she loathed. “I am going away for a few days,” she began, pausing again in the middle of her sentence to regard her beloved brother, “to meet the man I am to marry”.

“I do not understand, Alis,” Vieft began, his eyes searching hers for an answer or the hint of a jest. He found neither but frowned when he saw the same expression on her face.

“I know you would not,” she sighed and looked away again. “I am old enough to marry now and Father has chosen a noble husband for me. It is my duty as a princess and I shall uphold the proud name of our family.”

Before he could protest any further, there was a knock upon her door–her carriage had arrived and it was time to depart. Alis grasped one of her brother’s hands and squeezed it gently before standing and moving away from the bed. As the prince came to his feet, the maidens applied the final touches–a few spurts of perfume and a thick robe of rich black fur. As he approached, they hurried to meet the driver at the door, then to the outer courtyard of the Imperial compound. Finally, the train came to an end once Alis saw the open door that awaited her. After a moment of indecision, she approached her dark-haired brother with tears brimming her eyes.

“Vieft,” she whispered with her soft fingers stroking his cheek as they stood face to face. Just as he began to speak, she held him close, doing her best to not smear the face paint on his cheek. “Wait on me,” she whispered in his ear.

When she brought her face back to look into his eyes, tears of bright crimson streamed down her face as if they were waterfalls. Quickly she turned away, never seeing Vieft reach out for her before she loaded the carriage. A pale man with the image of a corpse, with pallid skin and sunken eyes, closed the door behind her and bore the prince an evil grin before assuming his driving seat and whisking the princess away.

As the carriage vanished from sight, Vieft regarded the land around him, which now became distorted and withered. A strange light filled the place and steel-blue eyes drifted to the heavens and the image of a black orb surrounded by a halo of fire. As if it responded to his attention, it pulsed and sent a column flame from the heavens. It came upon him too quickly for him to flee, and found him just where he stood. In but moments it washed over the young prince with blinding light and scorching heat, leaving nothing but impenetrable darkness in its wake.


Vieft awoke in a start, his heart racing and pounding in his ears. His eyes struggled to pierce the darkness all around him and he was relieved to make out familiar shapes in the moonlight that filtered into his chambers. His breathing was still rapid as he leaned back onto his elbows and wiped his brow with one hand. Sweat dripped from his chin, his body sweating profusely in response to his mental and emotional stress.

“What just happened?" he wondered and closed his eyes to help sort his thoughts. "That took place years ago, so why would I dream of it now? What did it all mean?”

The prince remained deep in thought, searching his mind and emotions until finally abandoning the search for understanding with no answers and yet more questions. In frustration he laid back down and closed his eyes, trying to clear his mind and go back to sleep. He would need the following day to recover from his adventures before his training resumed.
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