Fate of the Empires

Silence. Darkness. The night. These are the things that bring me comfort. I know hundreds of ways to kill a man and my conscience feels no guilt when I do. I am a weapon, expertly trained in the arts of subterfuge and assassination. I need no one and can survive in any civilization, but at this very moment I feel only fear. The hair raised on the back of my neck. A slight chill down my spine mixed with a nervous sweat that pours from my brow. My normally steady hand can barely hold the light weight of my dagger.

Shadows surround me yet they bring no solace. Why am I afraid? I have the advantage. My prey has his back to me, but I am frozen. All the hatred and rage that burn within my blood blind me from rational thought. I can’t seem to will myself to bury the sharp end of my blade into the back of this monster! I have waited a lifetime to get my revenge. I cannot fail now!

I attempt to make my move, but I am too late. He has sensed my presence and faces me. It’s almost like looking into a mirror. This Densetsu warrior has age on me, but the resemblance is uncanny. Is this how I will look when I’m older? Tired eyes. A battle-scarred face. Dark hair, graying on the sides. His skilled hand grasps the hilt of his curved-blade katana. His cold stare pierces deep into my soul. “Jun?”

He knows me? How is this possible? He’s never even seen me before. “How do you know my name?” I manage to choke out.

“Your mother was always fond of that name,” I cringe at his words, “It means truthful.”

“Don’t you ever mention my mother!”

“She always wanted a girl, but I knew a boy would be better suited to face the harshness of this world.”

“Shut up!”

My strength returns as my anger reaches its boiling point. I lunge forward and press my blade to his throat. He’s not surprised that I didn’t follow through. “Killing me is not the answer,” he says calmly, “Nor will it bring her back.”

“I said shut up!”

“I loved her, Jun!”

“You raped her! You killed her!”

“He killed her!”

His words break my focus for a split-second, but it is all he needs. Before I can react he knocks my weapon aside while simultaneously drawing his. He slashes me across the gut and I drop to my knees. I see my own blood yet I feel nothing. My mind races with thoughts, questions…memories. My life has been for nothing.

My executioner raises his sword above his head to strike down. “Turn to Amida, my son,” the last thing I see is the glint of the blade approaching my neck.

I jump out of my bunk grabbing my neck! It’s wet! I check my hands. The moisture is sweat…not blood. I am alive. My nightmares are getting steadily worse and they are feeling increasingly more real. What does it all mean? Are they premonitions? How could they be? I am no sorcerer nor do I place much faith in the gods. Perhaps I have just spent too much time at sea.

I look around the room. The dank, lower decks of the New Horizon that serve as crew quarters are empty. Everyone must be topside already. I try to compose myself, but I keep thinking about those last words in my dream. “Turn to Amida.”

Amida, the Densetsun god that welcomes the dead to the afterlife. As pleasing as paradise is supposed to be I’m not ready for it yet. The entire dream replays itself over and over in my mind as I get dressed. We will reach Akkarr by the end of the day. Hopefully being on solid ground again will help clear my head.

An ocean breeze sweeps down the steps as I make my way to the top deck. The cool wind feels soothing on my hot skin. I take a few deep breaths before stepping into the sunlight. My worries are concealed beneath a calm, collected exterior. I greet the ship’s crew as a confident leader.

The sky is clear and a healthy wind fills the ship’s sails propelling us swiftly across the water. The seamen of the New Horizon routinely perform their assigned tasks to ensure a safe journey. I look towards the helm to find the captain. It’s strange to see him letting another man control the ship and even stranger that Magnus is that man.

Over the last week Magnus has finally gained his sea legs and has become most fascinated with sailing. He spends most of his time at the captain’s side and when the captain is too busy he latches on to a member of the crew. A week ago he wanted nothing to do with this boat and now he takes part in every job on board. And for one who has spent his whole life studying age-old books of magic, Magnus is fairly good at manual labor. He is a peculiar man.

I find Draccus and Leaia near the bow of the ship. She prays while he meditates. The two of them have become fast friends. Comrades in arms. They spend each night gazing at the stars discussing the history of their two nations. Sometimes when we have no ship duties to attend to they will train with each other exploring the differences in their combat styles. I am glad to see Draccus make a connection with one of us, yet part of me almost feels jealous by the amount of time they spend together.

I would like to share in the kinship they have, but how can I? Almost everything they know about me is false. We all have our parts to play in this game and mine is one of deceit. From my feigned ignorance about the assassins in Lindara to the staged pirate attack on the New Horizon I have been leading the others by their noses. Even my overdramatic speech about betrayal from Lord Ratheburn was a machination of Ethan. While I don’t fully understand Ethan’s motives I am to follow orders without question. The rigors of my training have taught me the importance of that rule.

Growing up under Ethan’s guidance was not easy. If I spoke out of line or asked too many questions I was beaten. If I deviated from my studies or slacked off on my training I was beaten. I was beaten until I learned to defend myself. And when I could defend against one, I was then beaten by a group until I learned to take on multiple attackers. If there is one thing I can thank Ethan for it is my discipline. He has trained me to be the perfect weapon, but does my warrior spirit really come from my harsh upbringing or from the blood in my veins of a father I never knew? While it is not part of my mandate, I intend to uncover some truth about my parents. I have to be subtle in everything I do for Ethan surely has the eyes of his spy network on us at all times.

Magnus catches sight of me and hands the helm off to the captain. I can see he has something to say so I meet him half way. If I didn’t know better I’d say he almost looks concerned. “Jun, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” an odd question coming from him, “Why do you ask?”

“Well, I don’t know if anyone else has noticed, but you’ve had quite a bit of restless sleep lately. And just last night I heard you mumbling. Is something troubling you?”

“No, I have just spent too much time at sea.”

“Good. Since I’m risking my life for a man I do not trust I want to make sure you are thinking clearly.”

“You don’t trust me?” a stupid question on my part.

“I don’t trust anyone, but I was actually referring to Ethan.”

“Ethan?”

What cause would Magnus have to distrust him? “Yes. How much do you know about your master?”

I look around. There are crew members within earshot. “This is neither the time nor the place for this conversation,” I say softly.

Magnus glances from side to side. He gives me a look of understanding and nods before walking back up to the helm. What are you playing at, Mage?

Magnus is a man I have watched from the beginning. He is clever, but his training is in magic, not espionage. The others think he is careless, drinking and womanizing at every stop we make, when the truth is he hasn’t touched a woman nor suffered the effects of any ales since after the attack in Lindara.

Some magics can be performed with just a touch or a wave of a hand and I have been schooled to recognize such spellcasting. It looks as though Magnus always swirls his forefinger around in his ale and tastes it before drinking from the mug when in actuality he is purifying the toxins so that drinking the ale is like drinking water to him. The ale still smells and tastes the same, but has no adverse effects. I will say this; his acting is top notch. He must have learned well from when he actually was drunk. He’s very convincing.

While we were in Lexoria I went to collect Magnus from an inn room when I found the bar wench that accompanied him lying on the bed alone. She was in a magical sleep and still fully clothed with the mage nowhere to be found. He’s good, but I’m better. I will find out what he’s plotting. I cannot be too angry with him, however. I ask for honesty when I give very little of it in return.

The sun sets on the horizon as we reach Akkarr. Compared to the other stops we have made along the way Akkarr is a very unremarkable city. It is large and heavily populated, but it has no direct political or royal ties and the port is too small to be a major stop for traders. It is an easy place to blend into. It is the perfect vantage point to set up our reputation as mercenaries.

The attack on the New Horizon was intended as both a test and a means of acquiring some pieces of Densetsun armor. The test was designed to see how this team would react to an actual combat situation. Although the others came highly recommended, Ethan wasn’t entirely convinced of their abilities. Deacon Amberlin, 2nd degree archmage of the Black Flame and one of Magnus’ former masters, assisted us in the testing. Using a very powerful enslavement spell, Deacon controlled the actions of the captured Densetsun criminals from below the decks of the attacking ship. And the fog was a nice touch, especially when Magnus had to try twice to get rid of it.

The captain and the crew of the New Horizon bid us farewell at the docks of Akkarr. Magnus proposes one last night of drinking and celebration, but the captain has only brought his crew ashore to re-supply before they start the long trip back to Lindara. I am disappointed to see them go. After spending nearly a month living and working on board the ship with these men I have come to think of them as friends. The fact that I had hand in the event that cost one of these men their life will weigh heavily on my heart for the rest of mine.

With our few belongings Draccus, Leaia, Magnus, and I make our way towards a more centralized part of the city. Draccus carries a large sack that contains the various sections of armor I removed from the fallen Densetsun fighters. We are a motley looking bunch, having been at sea for so long. I think most of tonight will be spent grooming once we have found suitable lodgings.

Akkarr seems to have quite the active nightlife. The streets are alive with the atmosphere of a nomadic gypsy camp. Interesting characters of all ages perform dazzling tricks to shock and amaze the on-looking crowds. Fire-eaters, sword-swallowers, acrobats, contortionists, minstrels, singers, dancers, and thespians all entertain the masses while merchants peddle food and festive trinkets.

Magnus, of course, acts as though he is overjoyed at the prospect of getting to join in the fun. I know he intends to disappear into the crowds so he can get back to his own agenda. Perhaps letting him do so wouldn’t be such a bad idea. I could shadow him and find out what he’s up to.

Draccus remains silent as usual, but his wide eyes speak for him. His people do not have festivals or celebrations of this nature so he is taking in every spectacle on the way. Occasionally he actually stops to watch the acts and I have to usher him on like a small child.

Leaia is also caught up in the moment. She admires the dancers with the biggest smile from ear to ear. I can see in her face that she wants to be dancing along with them, yet she stays reserved. She is eternally loyal to her order. There must be so many experiences she’s never had growing up in the Temple of Arus. Ethan made certain to expose me to as much culture as possible, however, priests tend to keep their pupils very sheltered. It breaks my heart to pull her away, but we must find a place to stay.

In all honesty, I am nervous in these large crowds. I may not have been immediately forthcoming about the origin of our would-be assassins back in Lindara, but I really have no idea why they were sent. It could have been another test, but why? Why wouldn’t I have been told about it? And why would Ethan be in league with Lord Ratheburn? I have so many questions with no answers and until I have some I feel the need to be overly cautious.

We make our way to a more upscale part of town passed the street festivals. Although opinions differ on where we should stay I settle the arguments by choosing the Phoenix Down Inn. It is by far the nicest set of accommodations we have had yet on this mission. I feel we deserve at least one night in the lap of luxury. The Phoenix Down is a three-story building large enough to house nearly a hundred guests if you include the common room on the ground floor. The nightly rates are not cheap, but I have a little extra coin that the others don’t know about.

A large wooden sign hangs over the double-door entrance to the inn. A very detailed painting of a fiery phoenix flying over the inn decorates both sides of the sign. Some tail feathers trail behind the mythical bird and settle on the inn roof. Below the painting the words Phoenix Down Inn are carved into the wood. The majority of the populace is illiterate so signs have pictures drawn or carved into them that relate to the name of the establishment.

The interior of the inn is quite elegant. Even the common room has cots to sleep on instead of piles of hay. The front desk is near a wooden staircase leading to the second floor where the private rooms are located. The third floor seems to be one large master suite. A pricey room, no doubt.

The innkeeper is a middle-aged man with a well-kept beard. His eyes are tired, but they perk up the moment I approach his polished desk. I have not even reached for it yet and the innkeeper is already eyeing my coin bag. This is a man who has a weakness for anything shiny and is not to be trusted.

“Good evening, travelers!” the innkeeper uses big hand gestures as he talks, “Welcome to the Phoenix Down Inn, where the rest you get will make you feel reborn!”

What a line. “Good evening,” I reach for my silver, “I’d like three private rooms for tonight only.”

“Three? But there are four of you.”

“The Orrock will not be staying,” Draccus still refuses to sleep indoors.

“Very well. That will be fifteen silver pieces.”

I count out the silver. “Tell me, is your city always so…active at night?”

“Not usually. You and your friends have happened upon the week long festival of Orin.”

Orin, the god of magic and trickery. He is the only god to ever be cast out of the heavens. The legend says that Orin has an insatiable lust for gambling and lost a wager with Draco Magus, lord of air and the king of the gods. As a result, Orin was banished from Caeleum, the realm of the gods, to our world where he wanders in the guise of a crazy old sorcerer with a deck of magic cards that can reap untold fortunes or misfortunes to those who’ll play him in a game of chance.

Strange that there would be a celebration for a god that was cast out of the orthodox pantheon. I thought most followers of Orin worship only in secret cults these days. In any event, I don’t like the situation. If a trap were set for us this would be an ideal place to spring it. I collect the keys for the private rooms from the innkeeper and tell the others to meet me back in the common room in one hour.

Draccus waits in the common room while Leaia, Magnus, and I head upstairs to our rooms. I open the door to my room to discover a large well-kept bed. There is a window covered by frilly curtains behind the bed. The room itself is quite sizeable and across from the bed is a wooden bathtub. I imagine how nice the tub would be filled with clean, hot water. I can smell my own aroma in the air and know that a bath is long over due.

Although a hot bath was relaxing, I still cannot shake the feeling of dread that has been playing on my mind. Unfortunately, I do not have time to worry. Arrangements must be made for the road ahead so I must remain vigilant. I make my way downstairs to meet the others.

Draccus stands near the front door with his arms crossed. He keeps looking outside. He’s acting cautious, but I can tell he is trying to get a peek at the festival. His naïve curiosity is very refreshing.

Magnus looks very pleased with himself and I can only wonder what he’s so happy about. He gives me a nod and motions towards the front desk. I turn to see Leaia talking with the innkeeper. She has lost her peasant attire and now wears an emerald green gown. My blood runs hot as she looks my way. It is not a priestess that stands before me now, but a goddess. I take a deep breath and approach her. “Where did you get the dress?” I try to seem disinterested.

“Magnus bought it from one of the merchants outside,” Leaia admires the dress as she speaks.

“Yes, I thought she could wear it out to the festival,” Magnus gloats as he approaches us.

Rotten son of a whore! Magnus thinks that by doing this I will be looking after Leaia and Draccus all night so he can sneak off to continue his scheming. And now I’m going to look like the tyrant. “We have no time for pleasantries right now. There is planning to do.”

The quiet of the common room is disrupted by a handful of inn patrons coming in from outside. It is not the best place to discuss our mission at this time. I can still hear the sounds of the festival outside so that is not an option either. Perhaps business will have to wait for the morning. I sigh. You win this time, Mage. “Nevermind. We will talk tomorrow. Go and enjoy yourselves tonight. It will be the last chance you have for a while.”

“Very generous of you,” Magnus grins.

I am really beginning to dislike him. “Just be mindful of your environment out there,” I look to each of them.

“I won’t let anything happen,” Draccus replies.

“Alright, get out of here,” I say in an unenthusiastic tone.

Magnus doesn’t wait and is out the front door almost before I finish my statement. Leaia hesitates a moment. “Are you sure?” she looks deep into my eyes, “Is there something wrong?”

Those eyes…I feel like those eyes could peer right into my dark soul, yet I don’t even care. I could look into those eyes forever. I have never felt this way before. I need to focus. “Just be on guard out there,” I break eye contact.

“Always,” Leaia reveals the dagger she has strapped to her waist behind her back.

I watch as Leaia follows Draccus out the door. I shouldn’t worry. I know they are all capable of taking care of themselves. In the meantime, while they have fun at the festival I have work to do. I need to look up an old friend.

It’s interesting that dealing with the criminal element always takes you to the places you would least expect. Three years ago Ethan was set on infiltrating the Shadow Guild out of Cove. The Shadow Guild is the largest criminal organization on Athusia and Ethan has never been able to get a man on the inside. His last attempt involved me and my partner at the time, Sasha Rose.

Sasha and I established the Black Rose Guild here in Akkarr. We managed to set up communication with the Shadow Guild, but it was still impossible to get on the inside. In the end Ethan pulled me to go on other missions, but he kept Sasha here in Akkarr to run his own personal criminal organization for access to the black trade. Now I find myself back in the Akkarr cemetery standing in front of the “Nameless Tomb” with a black rose in hand.

The cemetery is empty this time of night, which makes this easy. The “Nameless Tomb” looks as menacing as ever tonight with its stone-carved gargoyle guardians on both sides of the entrance. I place the black rose into the open mouth of one of the stone statues and I wait. After a few moments I hear the lock mechanism moving from within the tomb. The right door opens and a figure emerges from inside.

“State your name,” the shadowed rogue says in hushed tone.

I can feel the presence of another behind me so I don’t waste time with words. I know these guards are just doing their jobs so I won’t hurt them too badly. I sidestep as my attacker lunges at me from behind. I grab him while he is off-balance and throw him into the tomb. I hear him collide with the guard that is still inside. The two hooded men fall into the doorway of the tomb. They look up at me, neither one completely sure of what just happened. “Now go and tell Sasha Rose that Jun Fang is here to see her,” I order as I look down on them.

“She already knows you’re here,” I hear a female voice from behind me.

That’s what I get for my arrogance. I turn around to find Sasha standing about ten feet back with a crossbow pointed at me. Her slender frame is wrapped in black leather armor. She has straight, black hair that is tied back to keep it out of her face. Ah, her face…skin like porcelain and blue eyes deeper than the sea. Sasha is not to be underestimated. She is deadly as she is beautiful. “It’s been a long time, Sasha,” I say as I bow playfully.

“What are you doing here, Jun?” Sasha asks suspiciously, “Ethan didn’t send word that you were coming.”

“Ethan doesn’t know I’m here.”

Sasha lowers her crossbow. “Well then,” Sasha smiles, “After you.”

The two guards stand aside and Sasha follows me into the darkness of the tomb. We travel down stone steps into the manmade catacombs beneath the cemetery. The catacombs are a series of tunnels that branch out underneath all of Akkarr. They were designed to give the guild easy access to any part of the city. The project is not yet complete, however. Each tunnel has to be planned very carefully so as not to cause any cave-ins or sinkholes from above.

Once below ground I follow Sasha’s lead to her chambers. The first series of tunnels are completely finished. They have stone walls, wooden doors, and furnishings. Sasha’s chambers are no exception and are very inviting. Two large armchairs sit opposite each other at a round oak table. Beyond an open doorway leading to a back room I can see a large bed with silk linens that brings back memories. Sasha closes the door to the halls after we enter. “So,” Sasha lets her hair down, “What brings you back here this time around?”

My past with Sasha is complicated. Our profession is a lonely one filled with lies, hollow friendships, and lovers who are usually out to kill you. The two of us worked together for six years and occasionally…okay frequently, found comfort in each other’s arms. Even after I was reassigned I would find ways to come back without Ethan’s knowledge. She is an addiction I haven’t the will to fight.

“I need some supplies and transportation,” I sit in one of the armchairs, “By tomorrow.”

Sasha sits across from me in the other chair. “Jun, you know I’m not one to ask questions, but why come to me? Why not get what you need from Ethan?”

There has never been a great love between Sasha and Ethan. I’m not sure why; she is one of our best, however, I think Ethan left Sasha in charge of the Black Rose to keep her out of his hair. “I’m going to Cove and I need the Black Rose to send word to the Shadow Guild that a mercenary group is looking to barter passage to Densetsu”

“Densetsu? Why there?”

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

“Then I’m not sure I can help you.”

“Look, I’m trying to prevent a war. That is all I can say.”

Sasha laughs. She stands and begins to remove her armor. “Prevent a war? Between Athusia and Densetsu? There’s no war to be prevented.”

“What do you mean?”

“How long are you going to blindly follow orders, Jun?”

She knows how to try my patience. I stand. “I do what is asked of me. Ethan already has my loyalty. What would he have to gain by lying to me?”

Sasha walks up to and puts her hand on my shoulder. “I’m not trying to upset you, but you know more about Densetsu than anyone in our organization. Do you really think they would attack our nation unprovoked?”

“My instincts tell me no, but it is my responsibility to go to Densetsu and see for myself.”

“Fair enough, but if I’m right I will rub your nose in it forever.”

She smiles as she taps my nose with her finger. I can’t help but smile. “Are you going to help me or not?” I ask as I take her hand.

She wraps her arms around me and pulls me into her. The scent of her skin is intoxicating. “I’ll see what I can do,” Sasha kisses my neck, “We’ll discuss the details later.”

A voice in the back of my mind tells me this is wrong, but I cannot help myself. I want her as she wants me. I may hate myself in the morning, but in this moment I don’t care. She presses her soft lips to mine and I am lost in her spell. This seductress is a master of her art and I am falling victim to it. Beaten at my own game…it’s going to be a good night!

I awoke early and have gathered Magnus, Leaia, and Draccus into my inn room to discuss the plan from here on out. I had very little sleep last night, but it was my own fault and I cannot let that hinder our progress. As I predicted the moment I set eyes on Leaia this morning a deep feeling of guilt came over me. I don’t get it. Either I’m developing a conscience or I have feelings for her. This is not good. Rule number one is never get too close. Even my relationship with Sasha I can walk away from at any time, but with Leaia I’m starting to feel an attachment.

Leaia and Draccus both seem to be in high spirits from their experience at the festival last night. What I gather from their conversations is that Leaia learned how to dance to the lively tunes of wandering minstrels. Draccus, on the other hand, dissects the differences in human behavior between his tavern experiences and last night. He feels that celebrations in honor of the gods are more positive and bring out the better side of human beings.

Magnus remains unusually quiet this morning. He claims he went to bed early last night, but I know that to be a lie. I checked his room when I returned from the cemetery and he was not there. If this keeps up I am going to have to confront him. I can’t risk him jeopardizing the safety of the others.

I lay out the pieces of Densetsun armor I collected on the bed. “Each of us will be using some pieces of this armor. From this point forward we are mercenaries and the armor will give us more credibility for having taken out some Densetsun warriors. The Shadow Guild will be expecting our arrival in Cove. We won’t seek them out; they will find us. I have arranged transportation for us, but don’t get too excited. We have two and a half weeks of hard riding ahead of us and we don’t know what waits for us on the way. Are there any questions?”

“Do we have supplies?” Leaia asks.

“We should have enough dried rations to make the journey and that’s assuming Draccus will be hunting his own food,” I reply.

“That I will,” Draccus nods to agree.

“Water?” Magnus questions.

“As long as we don’t go overboard we have enough water to last a week. Beyond that we have to get our own, but it shouldn’t be a problem. There will be some farms and villages along the way for us to get more supplies and water if we need it.”

“When do we leave? Draccus asks.

“We leave this afternoon. And bear in mind that once we leave here we are mercenaries. No more festivals. No more fancy clothes. No more private agendas. We have a job to do and any mistakes could cost us our lives.”

Magnus picks up a Densetsun bracer off the bed and puts it on his wrist to see how the leather armor fits. “Let’s do this then,” Magnus says as he adjusts the bracer.

My thoughts wander as we begin sifting through the armor and picking out pieces to fit each one of us. Everything ahead seems like it should be very cut and dry, but I have so many doubts…and Sasha’s words didn’t help matters. Am I just blindly going through life as Ethan’s puppet? The answers to my questions about Ethan and my past lie in Densetsu. It’s a long road ahead, but I will get there and find the truth!