The Vaid Empire

Vaid Empire: Conquest

Chapter 109

1st of Silla, 20 AVE. 

Kingdom of Narok, Near Fask. 

Like a dot upon the black dunes, their target stood miles ahead. The dark walls of Fask were all that rose from the desert sands. 

The warm sun beat down upon an already exhausted legion, though their rest could not come yet. They could not stop now. A mere five days after the battle of the mountain pass, they continued to march towards the town the Arkos army had hoped to spare from human blades. Always at the back of The God Emperor, their holy ruler drove them hard. 

Larger than a mere village, though not quite as grand as a full city, the town of Fask beckoned them like a welcoming oasis. They could not yet see the river that ran behind it, though they knew it was there from their maps. 

They would not find a desert more temperate in all the world, though still the heat washed over the black sand. If the lands of the Taziks were the harshest of all, and Wonakaros and the north desert were brimming with monstrosities, Narok was a merciful paradise in comparison. Even so, Vixin did not feel like she was in paradise. A single glance told her the legion did not either. 

The palanquin swayed as they marched. Sitting inside, the princess kept the silky curtains apart to watch their progress. She saw dark clouds hanging in the sky far in the distance, tinged with purple and too far to offer the others protection from the sun. 

Yisi sat at her side, while their daughters were kept far at the rear of the legion to protect them from the coming battle. As they approached, however, it didn’t appear as if there would be much of a battle at all. The vast majority of capable warriors in Fask had fallen in the mountain pass, and none stood upon the sands to greet them now. Mere boys and old men guarded the top of the walls, the last hope of a doomed population. 

Their victory had been easy, and the next would be easier still. Vixin tried to savor it while she could, knowing that every warrior that hadn’t already faced them would be gathering elsewhere. A few quick triumphs would not win a war, and the Arkos had yet to show their true strength. 

Every sway of the palanquin brought her closer to civilization. After months in the harsh mountains, Vixin desperately craved a bath. She wanted solid walls around her, a place to truly rest, safe from the arrows of those that wanted them dead. Even as she sat restlessly, the sight of Lalian’s trembling distracted from her own needs. Sitting across from the green man, she reached over to take his hand. “She’ll be alright, Lalian.” 

“Y…yes, princess,” was all he said, too lost in frantic thoughts. 

Far ahead, Anthara marched at the back of The God Emperor. When at last they reached the walls, the legion halted at his command. 

Terrified Arkos boys and weary old men readied their arrows and spears. Below, Dominax could have demanded their surrender. Perhaps they’d even negotiate, should he offer the right price. Instead, he glanced at Cendra and Nafalya at his sides, and along with their Knights and Truthseekers, they hurled a powerful wave of fire and electricity towards the gates. 

The horrid scream of shattering stone ripped through the air as the gates imploded, sending rubble tumbling down the street behind. As arrows flew and the population cried out in terror, a flood of white cloaks charged through the breach. 

*** 

Clin walked among the aftermath in a daze. When the sun began to fall towards the horizon, the last hint of resistance had been snuffed out. Fask was theirs, bloody and ruined. 

His orders came firmly, though in truth he wasn’t really there. He was a man lost to thought, his actions automatic and driven merely by experience. Wandering among the corpses of those brave and foolish enough to stand against the legion, he held the appearance of a capable, albeit exhausted, leader as he and the others under his command sought to secure and pacify the town. In truth, he was drowning. 

Barbarity would not be tolerated. His orders were as strict as ever. Little could be done in the heat of battle but to try and limit the damage they inflicted. Civilians were inevitably caught in the chaos, and their innocent blood would forever stain his hand. In the aftermath, however, his work truly began.  

Savages raided and burned homes. His warriors would not. The moment Fask surrendered, and the battle was done, he enacted the same laws any city in The Empire was entitled to. The Arkos population was offered the same protection as the humans in Domani. Legionaries were commanded to put out fires. When he came across a recruit forcing himself between the legs of a screaming Arkos girl, he ordered the man to be castrated. When a commander ordered her men to plunder the valuables of one of the larger homes, Clin removed her hand, the punishment for a thief. 

Horrors and purple blood filled the streets. Such was his legacy. He sought to minimize further harm. 

Kunir watched the sun set behind his mentor as they stood in the market, surrounded by marching legionaries and clusters of commanders and royals locked in a dozen separate discussions. The remnants of a last stand lay in ruins around them. 

“You look exhausted, old man,” the sandy-haired Knight greeted Clin as he sauntered through the chaos. “I’ve received word on the final number of casualties we suffered. I have a feeling it’ll liven your spirits.” 

Hardly did he hear. When the young man put his hand upon his shoulder, he finally snapped from his thoughts. “Hmm? Oh, yes. Thank you. Take it to The God Emperor himself.” 

Kunir grimaced, finding the thought foul. “He’s busy breaking in a new throne. Though if that is your wish…” He sighed, accepting his place. Lingering, the sight of Vixin strolling through the bloody market caught his eye. 

Returning his gaze, the princess offered a smile. Her gentle hand subconsciously moved to rest upon her flat midriff, the memory of the night she had made him a father never far from her mind whenever she encountered the handsome Knight. Their gazes held as she made her way to join Salduin’s side. When she glanced over at Clin, however, the hand upon her womb became a sin, and she pulled it away as her smile fell. Guilt met guilt, and a silent apology couldn’t help but fill her pretty features. 

Two men had tasted her passion. The Knight let her go with an unsaid gratitude that would not easily fade. Clin merely looked down, feeling as if yet another great weight strained his armored shoulders. 

Kunir made a move to begrudgingly carry out his orders, though he held back as he took in the sight of his mentor once more. “You should rest. It’s been a long and bloody day.” 

“There’s more to be done,” Clin countered, waving his hand in refusal. 

“And more commanders are gathered here than I ever learned to count. You look as if you’ll collapse, and I’d rather avoid having to haul you to the healers,” he chuckled. When Clin’s grim expression didn’t ease, his own hardened with sincerity. “Truly. Your work here is done. Trust us to do ours.” 

“I’ll rest when I’m certain I’ve done all I can. I…” He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I must be certain.” 

Kunir could not keep the concern from his gaze. Luckily, he knew his mentor well. “I’ll ensure your orders are carried out personally. The Empire’s laws will continue to protect these people, and any legionary that defies them will be punished. You have my word.” He touched the hilt of his sword, as if he could duel the entire legion himself. “After I remove myself from The God Emperor’s sight, of course. Trust me. I’ll watch over the citizens of Fask. Is that not what you trained me to do?” 

Hardly could Clin argue, seeing the fire of certainty in the young man’s eyes. With another sigh, he stood a little straighter, as if the weight of his burden had lessened. A small relief, though he’d gratefully accept any. “Ah…very well. Fine. An hour of rest, though not a minute more.” 

“Good.” As Kunir glanced over at the temple where The God Emperor had already made his temporary stronghold, he hesitated. Then, reaching beneath his white cloak, he pulled a small object free and held it loosely. “Though, before you rest, I suppose now is as good a time as any. I’ve been working on something. Something to pass the days while we marched.” 

For a mere moment Clin seemed to return to life as his curiosity bloomed. Letting the object drop into his hand, he discovered it to be a rock carved into the shape of a disc about the size of his palm. Upon its surface he saw the moonlight trace over the etched lines, forming the image of a sword atop the crescent moon of House Vaid. “What is this?” 

Kunir shrugged. “The Privictis Order has yet to claim an official symbol to mark our Knights. I thought…well, who knows? Maybe you’ve been waiting for inspiration.” 

Clin ran his thumb over the lines. “This would have required quite a bit of time to carve.” 

“A man can grow quite bored when waiting for the snow or an Arkos arrow to kill him.” Once more he grew serious. “Consider it a gift, a thank you for the cloak you once put upon my back.” 

He eyed the white cloak in question. Even as his own hung dirty and ragged, the young man’s had been painstakingly cleaned each morning, the holes patched and the tears mended. “Why the crescent moon?” 

“I won’t pretend that I give a damn about the royals now. But a Lord once showed me that some of the nobles care about the common people. Some are willing to defend the ordinary beings of this world.” He pointed to a Vaid banner that now hung from a nearby building. “If that is the symbol you fight under to serve the population, I suppose I’d be proud to wear it at your side.” 

The young man was a beacon in the darkness, though he threatened to drown Clin all the same. Legionaries and slaves continued to remove corpses from the market. He was not the good man Kunir believed him to be. “And the sword?” 

“You took the dagger of a thief and put the sword of a knight in my hand. You taught me how to use it to serve those in need.” Kunir gripped the hilt of his blade. “You made an orphaned boy into a man.” 

Clin could not keep the sorrow from his eyes. Among his mistakes, the young man was not one of them. “You did that yourself.” He offered a humble smile, grasping Kunir’s shoulder as he gestured with the disc. “Though you’re right, our Knights need a symbol. I can think of no other that is more worthy.” 

If Kunir hoped to conceal a grin of gratitude behind his nod of respect, he failed. “Thank you.” He gestured away from the market. “Now rest, old man. I’ll tend to the people in your absence. You have my word.” 

Clin departed, leaving the sandy-haired Knight in his wake. He knew Kunir would not fail him, nor the population. With a tight grip upon the disc, he made his way through the legion towards his personal quarters. 

Of course, he had little intention of actually resting. 

Pushing against the edge of the market, as close to the center of Fask’s trade as possible, the temple stood, squat and round, topped by a dark dome. The largest building of the town, it was considerably smaller than many of the castles that had risen throughout The Empire. Hardly was Fask the grand jewel of Narok. 

Clin avoided the main entrance as it sat open to the town. Even from a distance he could see the commotion inside the main hall as many sought to speak to The God Emperor. Instead, he found a side entrance that led into a connected structure, a multi-floored annex with many living quarters that the royals had already divided up as their own. 

Finding his new room by questioning the guards, he discovered that his belongings had already been placed inside by slaves. There was no door to lock, only a curtain of silk to pull across the empty doorway. 

Making his way to his desk, he fell into the chair as if his legs finally gave out. The bed called to him, promising rest, though he opened a drawer instead and lit a candle. If an hour of peace was all he had, he’d make the most of it. 

He retrieved a blank message cylinder from inside the desk. Upon the stick inside he began to spill his soul, his shoulders hunched beneath the weight of his guilt. 

“Cendra, my love, I have proven myself unworthy.” 

Always did his confessions begin the same. Always did they threaten to strangle him. When he could endure no more, he looked over his words, despising them, far from the explanation she deserved. He let it burn in the flame of the candle. 

Once more he tried to write. There had to be a way to make her understand what he had done. There had to be some perfect combination of words that would preserve their love and spare Vixin from the inevitable destruction such a confession would bring. With every symbol etched into the wood, he risked everything, yet withholding his guilt would undo him all the same. 

His strength was withering. Clin found his eyes drooping, dueling with his exhaustion as he snapped awake. He could not rest, though hardly had he slept at all in far too long. Once more his hand halted, unable to find the proper words, and thus the wood met the flame. 

“Cendra, my love, I have proven myself unworthy.” 

Again, he started anew. He wrote with words that served as a shield, dancing around the truth of Cilith until at last he grew disgusted with his cowardice and burned the message. 

Snapping awake without realizing he had begun to drift into sleep, he realized he was falling forward, catching himself. His work was not done. He could rest only when he… 

Staring at the blank wood, pondering, frozen with indecision, he dared to close his eyes for a moment longer than he should have. With his arms folded upon the desk, his head gradually sank down. Even the cool steel of his armored forearms did not stir him. 

With thoughts of Cendra, he drifted to sleep. 

*** 

Only the moonlight shimmering across the black sand guided their steps. As the lovers swiftly snuck from the walls of the conquered city, they did their best to avoid tripping. 

“Yisi, if my father finds out we left without guards, he’ll kill us himself,” Vixin said, trying to slow her bondmate’s pace as she was practically dragged along. 

“Hush.” She pulled the princess’s hand as she held it tight. 

Together in the darkness, they reached the shore of the river. The gentle waters carved through the sands, and glancing back, they could see the lights of the nearby town as legionaries patrolled the walls. 

Hardly was Yisi visible against the landscape at night. As she peeled the one-suit from her curves, however, the dark fabric slid down to reveal her fair skin. Vixin watched as the soft flesh of her lover nearly glowed in the moonlight, a pale goddess revealing herself in the darkness. When at last she kicked the suit away, she stood naked in the night. 

Biting her lip at the alluring sight, Vixin’s hesitation couldn’t help but wane. She too began to undress, casting aside the dark cloak she had donned to camouflage herself. Already the shimmering light trickled over her skin through her revealing leotard, and when she finished stripping, she joined Yisi’s nakedness. Despite her misgivings, she covered a grin. 

The water was cool to the touch, though not yet unpleasant. A royal toe dipped to test what awaited, though it was Yisi who dared to step deeper first. Taking her lover’s hand, she guided her into the water. 

“Yisi…” Vixin stepped forth into the shimmering river, letting it rise up her soft thighs as the shore sloped steadily. 

She pulled her along until they were waist deep, hardly a few steps from the edge of the river. “You should have let your fear die on the mountains.” 

“And when whatever lurks in these strange waters finds us?” Vixin countered with a hand upon her hip. It had been madness to sneak from Fask alone. “Will you drag my corpse back to Fask?” 

“The Lanthian claims there is little danger,” she replied. Though adventurous, she was hardly suicidal. “We spoke. Vile creatures infest the north and west. Here, so close to The Capital, only…oddities lurk.” 

“So far as Lalian’s documents know.” Though she peered around them with caution, Vixin made no move to retreat. The body of her lover was a lure, drawing her closer until they touched. 

Yisi found her hips beneath the gentle water. “I had to endure endless complaining about the dirt and dust atop the mountains. Now I bring you the bath you’ve craved, and still you continue.” The faintest hint of a smile touched her tight lips. 

“Then silence me.” Vixin claimed a kiss, feeling her warmth in their cool surroundings. Their time was short. If the night’s quickly fading heat didn’t drive them back first, their absence would certainly be noticed. For the moment, however, she cared little. 

Hands exploring, gliding over wet skin, they savored each other. Alone, gone was the conquest, The Empire, Fask. All but their bodies in the darkness had vanished. All but a single thought, one that made Vixin pull her lips away. 

“What now?” Yisi asked quietly. 

They could hear the gentle flow of water passing their nude forms. In the quiet of night, she touched her lips with guilt. “Forgive me.” Peering back at the town, she saw the torches burning to hold back the dark. “Just a thought of Clin.” 

“Again?” Wrapping her arms around the princess’s royal waist, she pulled her tight against her nakedness. 

“He suffers while we sneak away to enjoy ourselves.” With the walls in sight, she knew the legion was still at work. “I saw him before the sun set. He was a…husk, far worse than he has been of late.” 

Yisi sighed, though she would not let go. Long had her lover watched the man from afar while crossing the mountains. She would not let him ruin their moment. “He’ll still be there in the morning. Save your guilt until then.” 

Vixin offered her a distasteful glance, though her touch softened her expression. “And in the morning my deed shall remain. I believe I’ve ruined him, Yisi.” 

Hands caressed the sides of her lover as Yisi savored her royal curves. “He was a tormented man before you took his seed. The whispers of his nightmares still linger, do they not?” Gliding beneath the water, she explored her soft thighs. 

The touch was tempting, like a shadow over her guilt, yet it lingered. Fingers dragged over wet skin. They sought to explore every inch of her, bringing a tingle between her legs. “We’ve all heard his screams at night, yet I fear I’ve made them worse. A mere glance will tell you he’s exhausted.” 

Hands sliding upwards, Yisi bit her lip as she enjoyed the smoothness of Vixin’s subtle abs. “To watch this belly swell has certainly broken many men. You gave him a child. Instead of gratitude, he shatters.” 

“He betrayed my sister. A man like Clin doesn’t forgive himself easily,” Vixin said, feeling her unease tighten in her core. “I used a good man like a pawn for my vengeance, and now what remains?” 

“Us.” The word was a simple one, and Yisi guided her lover to the edge of the river. Easing the princess to rest against the submerged sand, she ran a hand up her inner thigh, pausing to enjoy its feminine shape. “Even tonight we could ride away. Kixsi is ready,” she urged her, thinking of her purple lixidion where it was kept with the others. 

The fingers resting tantalizingly close to where she craved them made Vixin tingle, though she shook her head. “You know how I feel.” When the hand began to retreat down her thigh, she grabbed it, holding it tight. “Forgive me.” 

“It’s a rarity when you require my forgiveness.” Yisi guided her royal legs apart, settling between them. Kneeling in the sand atop her lover, bodies half submerged, she met her lips once more. “Though it seems you need his more.” 

She craved her touch. Everywhere her lover caressed made her tingle, wanting more. “He is a good man, Yisi. I’ve wronged him.” She ran her fingers through Yisi’s dark hair, watching the moonlight glow upon her skin. Two daughters of The God Emperor, a bastard and a royal, their bodies pressed closer. 

Yisi saw the need in her silver gaze. Her touch answered. Gradually gliding up her thigh once more with tantalizing slowness, she heard a soft gasp as she found what she craved. Beneath the water she discovered a treasure, running a finger over petite folds. “Apologize to him, then. Apologize for letting him slide into this snug perfection.” 

A moan came as gently as the water passing their bodies. As her lover’s touch ventured inside, Vixin held her close. “You know…ah…I’ve tried.” It was her turn to explore. Her hands tasted the beauty of her lover’s form, caressing flawless skin. Fingers wet from the water left trails that shimmered in the light of Silla high above. 

Blood calling to blood, sister against sister, the soft breaths of the daughters of Dominax echoed quietly in the open air of the night. A princess’s legs parted further, surrendering to the hand that rested between them as it skillfully coaxed her pleasure. 

“You tried long ago. Fresh words might help.” Yisi’s free hand ran up Vixin’s side, obsessing over the artwork that was her body. It cupped her breast, worshiping the soft flesh at her mercy. 

The girl between her thighs was a glowing goddess, a bastard no more, if only for tonight. Vixin cared little for their titles, forgetting all but two, bondmate and sister. “Perhaps I…ahh…” Her eyes fluttered in pleasure, for Yisi knew her well. Her weaknesses, her most sensitive areas, all were at her mercy. 

Yisi hushed her, sinking down. Her lips found her royal breasts. With a lick, her tongue met the sweet bud of a pink nipple, already hard from the cool water. She circled her prey, granting her a flick, before beginning to suck. 

Vixin moaned, feeling guilty at the pleasure pulsating through her body with every touch. How could she enjoy herself while Clin appeared so…lost? 

“Forget the world. Forget your misdeeds.” Yisi grew forceful, pinning her against the sand as she worshiped her body. “Tonight, focus only upon my fingers, for you’re going to cum in the waters of a strange land.” 

She couldn’t help but purr in bliss, feeling a submissive tingle as she surrendered. Her hips moved with a mind of their own, craving more as Yisi’s fingers continued their work. 

Nothing was more pure than a sister’s touch. None knew her body better than someone with similar curves and identical loins. Their shared features proved the strength of the seed that had created them both, different mothers, though sired by the same divine cock. 

Enraptured by their incestuous bliss, Vixin wrapped her thighs around her lover, trapping the hand that served her as she cried out. With an expert touch, Yisi made her bondmate gush beneath the gentle water. 

Tingling in the aftermath, Vixin felt the familiar stain of guilt seep through her pleasure. Taking Yisi’s hand and guiding it away from her sensitive loins, she pulled the young woman closer. 

Beauty in the arms of beauty, they savored their silent moment, soft bodies pressed together as Vixin held her. When at last she had made up her mind, she dared to interrupt the quiet sounds of the river. 

“I’ll apologize again in the morning,” she promised. “It’ll likely change little, though perhaps it’ll be a start.” 

Caring only for her lover, Yisi traced the symbol tattooed upon her hand that sealed them as bondmates. “If that’ll ease your mind, do so.” 

Suddenly feeling eager for the sunrise, Vixin granted her a kiss as they lounged. When at last the water grew too cold to be considered pleasant, they departed naked from the waters and donned their clothing before crossing the dunes, returning to the conquered town. 

*** 

“Clin…h…help me!” 

He knew what would follow next. Looking down, he saw her struggling beneath the fallen branch. 

“Help…y…your mother…my boy…” 

The familiar water licked at his ankles, low as it pooled around the mouth of the horrid cave. Even now, the decades had done nothing to fade the details. The claw marks left in the mud by the vile monstrosity he and his mother had lured from its slumber, the damp and dark jungle, the screams, all reached from the depths of his memory to poison his dream. The tendrils of a nightmare wrapped around his awareness as it had countless times before, and he knew all that would follow. 

“C..Clin…I’m not strong enough…” 

He had tried to save her. He had stopped. The screams called to him through the trees, and he turned to see the boy. A young Hesin peered at him from the past, the sole witness to his deed. 

As the boy watched, frozen as his tribe was slaughtered by the monstrosity in the trees behind, Clin pushed his mother’s head beneath the water with his foot. Her struggle was brief. When it was done, she fell still. 

He didn’t want to hear the screams anymore. He pulled Hesin along by his hand, a stranger he had wronged. They fled, and fled, hearing the slaughter at their backs, the screams fading as the last of them were consumed. Only the boy remained. Only he could be saved. 

“Such a high claim for an outsider to make towards one of our own. Tell me boy, do you possess proof?” 

They were standing before the elders of Nitri. He listened to Hesin spew every terrible word of what had occurred. A confession would grant the boy justice. Clin stood silently. 

“There is nothing connecting young Clin here to the cause of the tragedy.” 

Justice would be the last of his victims to perish. 

“Is that not correct, boy?” 

Hesin looked to him to confess. Clin could be brave. Instead, he nodded, and Hesin’s justice was slain. 

The boy would live. Spared from the monstrosity, Clin vouched for Hesin to live in Nitri, as if one life would wash away the blood of all the rest. It never had. 

Years flowed by, decades, and Clin found himself atop The Grand Pyramid. Guilt was his guide. He was a man now, a father, and so too was Hesin. The memory of the celebration of Prince Atrix’s birth was but noise at the edge of the dream as he made his way across Crescent Plaza. The boy he had pulled through the rainforest was now a man, a mask concealing his scars. 

“Confess.” 

A single word, yet it echoed across the years. 

“Play at being a good man if you must, yet every day you deny my family justice is proof of what you truly are.” 

Hesin said the words, though Clin stood before a crowd. His mother stood at the masked man’s side. The noble family he had spared from Dominax’s wrath stood at the other. Faces of the dead, the broken, the conquered, all loomed before him. Humans, Lanthians, and the Arkos man that had fallen from the cliffside to bleed at his feet, all stared with bloody features and accusing, empty eyes. 

They reached forth with bloody hands. Clin shielded himself with his cloak, staining the white. 

“Confess.” 

In an instant he found himself awake, panting as he sat up in his chair. Reality was a fragile thing, slowly returning until he realized he had fallen asleep at his desk. Still the blank message sat before him in the low light, something real to cling to as he pulled himself from his nightmare with a racing heart. 

“You’re in Fask,” he thought to himself, trying to calm the pounding of his chest. “You’re in your new quarters.” 

Always had Cendra been able to calm him. Now she was gone, sleeping in a separate room with their son. Alone, he buried his face in his hands. 

It was an eternity before he could collect himself. Still wearing the armor of the man he should be, Clin finally rose to his feet. He took a final look at the blank message before donning his helmet, hiding greying strands. 

Long had the fresh candle burned low. The chamber brimmed with shadows as he lingered, still the quarters of a stranger. He’d find no home here. Worse, he knew with certainty he’d find no further sleep. Wishing to rid himself of the vile aftermath of his nightmare, he slipped through the silk curtain guarding his chamber. 

He fled the unfamiliar halls as if he could leave the memory of the dream behind. Even deep into the night, he found that many continued to roam the newly conquered streets. 

“High Peacekeeper?” a legionary asked, though he waved them to silence. There was much to be done. If his memories would not leave him, he’d drown them in his work. 

Legionaries patrolled the dark streets. Still the town was alive, a simmering resistance held back by swords. It seemed he was far from the only one that could not sleep in the wake of the bloody siege. 

In silence, he waded through the destruction and the dead. Still slaves and the lowest of the legion continued to haul bodies away, bringing order to the streets. He waved one aside, taking his place as he lifted the body of an old man, placing him gently into a cart brimming with corpses. 

Others watched The High Peacekeeper’s labor, the highest of them, reaching into the dirty aftermath of their slaughter at the side of slaves. Guards formed a perimeter, though none assisted. 

Elderly men, brave young boys, all littered the streets with horrid wounds that had been their end. They had fought with hope when there was none. Clin hauled them with an expression as firm and grim as their own cold features. 

Nearby, he heard the wailing of a woman. As Clin made his way down the dark street, he saw an Arkos kneeling over a fallen girl. He didn’t need to understand her strange words to hear her sorrow. 

She slashed her sharp nails at a legionary when he attempted to remove the corpse. Clin ordered him to back away as he approached. Peering down at the dead girl, he sank to his knees before the mourning woman, removing his helmet to show the man beneath. 

His gaze offered a pleading apology. It was met only by hate. With great care he reached forth, attempting to show that he meant her no harm, though she raked her nails deep across his cheek. 

Swords flashed into the hands of the guards in an instant, and the closest dragged the woman away before she could leap to continue her attack. As the others rushed forth, Clin stopped them with a shout. “No!” Touching his cheek, he felt blood pouring down his skin, wincing. 

The woman thrashed in their hold, weeping, shouting words he couldn’t understand. On his knees, he beheld her rage, her sorrow, her despair as the cold corpse rested before him. He stared down at the truth of the siege. 

A Knight shattered. He could bear no more. 

Donning his helmet, he picked up the girl as the woman wailed. Cradling her corpse with care, he marched towards the temple, his dirty cloak fluttering and his gaze grim with purpose. 

*** 

Dominax listened to the voices of his advisors echoing through the temple’s throne room. Seated upon his new throne, the latest of many, he watched Salduin and Lalian’s lively debate at the foot of the dais. 

Long had many of the royals retired to their quarters for the night. Even Cendra had eventually been convinced to sleep, annoyed that she still required rest when her father had little need of it. The two men before him, however, were far too enraptured by the conundrum of meeting the belief system of the Arkos population with that of The Empire to find sleep. 

“The gods of Narok differ from those further west. I believe if we-” Lalian was cut off as the double doors flew inward with a kick. 

Clin marched into the room. They saw the dead Arkos girl in his arms. 

“Leave us,” Dominax commanded, seeing Clin’s eyes. His tone offered no debate, and his advisors and guards obeyed. 

Lalian paused for only a moment. “You’re injured. Should I call for-” Another command from The God Emperor held a warning, and he quickly bowed his head and made for the exit. 

As the doors were sealed, leaving them alone, Clin lowered the dead girl to rest before the throne as he knelt. Her purple blood stained his hands, and he offered them to his ruler. “I’ve come to confess.” 

The God Emperor leaned forward upon his throne. “A confession requires a crime.” 

“I have many to choose from.” Upon his knees, his dirty cloak flowed down his back and lay spread out across the floor as he gazed up at his ruler. “Cities destroyed. Innocents slaughtered. These deeds I have committed in your name with faith we were forging a better world. Tell me they were not in vain! Tell me this girl died for a reason!” 

Dominax’s lips tightened. “You know our aims. Of all the beings beneath my throne, you know the world I seek to build. You know of my Eternal Peace.” 

Clin stared down at the child’s corpse. “Such a world requires justice. Punish me, for I caused the deaths of Hesin’s tribe! I killed his family.” There it was. He had said it. The horrid truth lingered in the silence of the throne room. 

The God Emperor stared down at his advisor. 

Looking up into his silver gaze, Clin continued. The words came forth like a bloody flood from his lips. “I lured a beast to the camp of his tribe at my mother’s command and watched as they were consumed! I drowned her when she needed my help! I stood before the elders of Nitri and lied when Hesin required justice!” 

Once more, Dominax remained silent as he peered down. 

“Grant him the justice he deserved all those years ago. Punish me now, and I shall submit to your judgement.” Once more Clin held his bloody hands open on display. “Prove to me that we’ve built a world where horrid deeds are rightfully punished!” He felt a wetness running down his cheek, either his blood, or tears. “Show me that all I’ve done meant something!” 

Once more silence lingered as The God Emperor stroked his pointed beard in thought. When he answered, his voice was a low rumble. “You’ve proven yourself to be a worthy being. I care little for the events that occurred decades ago. Let them rest in the past, for you’re of no use to me dead or imprisoned.” 

As if a dagger had plunged into his heart, Clin’s hands dropped into his lap. 

“Do you believe I’d let anyone lesser sire my first grandson? A man I did not trust entirely?” Dominax scowled, despising the position the man was placing him in. “You have fought at my side from the beginning. Let the result of what we’ve built together wash away your sins.” 

“All I see is death outside those doors,” Clin said. As he studied the dead girl’s cold face, his tone hardened. “My sins remain. Punish me! Let me face all I’ve done! Please.” 

If any other man knelt before him, Dominax’s wrath would wipe them aside. Instead, out of respect, he stood from his throne and descended the steps. He rested a firm hand upon his advisor’s shoulder. “No.” The word offered no debate. “I require you at my side, untainted by the shame of past crimes.” 

Shame was all he had, realizing he had been a fool to ever pretend to be a good man. He brushed aside the hand and stood up. “I shall kill no more.” 

Once more Dominax scowled. Few men had earned his respect. Now the Knight tested his restraint. “Explain yourself.” 

“You promised me long ago that we’d bring peace and stability to this chaotic world.” He jabbed a finger towards the dead child. “Now the cost lies at our feet!” 

“You’ve always known the cost!” Dominax bit back, losing his patience. “A world remade requires the spilling of blood, and so you have!” 

“Yet now I see the worth of the world we made, a lie atop countless corpses! An empire where vile deeds go unpunished and justice is cast aside!” 

“Careful, Clin. Your words border on treason.” Dominax’s warning was a low rumble. 

“Treason is punished, though the murder of innocents is not?” Once more Clin opened his hands, showing her blood in a final attempt to receive justice. “For the decades I’ve served you, for the love I hold for your daughter, I demand that you punish my deeds! Let the world know of my crimes! Let me face the judgment I escaped long ago!” Perhaps then his hands would finally be cleansed. “Prove our work had value! Prove this girl died to build something better! Prove my life wasn’t a lie!” His final words broke him, and he dared to grasp at Dominax’s chest plate. “Please…” 

Dominax met his gaze, his silver eyes brimming with restrained power, though his firm lips said nothing. The Knight received his answer. 

Clin stepped back and removed his helmet. He dropped it at his ruler’s feet. The sound of metal against stone echoed loudly through the throne room. “So be it.” 

Turning around, he marched towards the doors, leaving The God Emperor with the corpse, the result of all they had built together. 

“Don’t turn your back to me!” Dominax lifted a hand, letting lightning gather in his grasp. Still Clin marched, shoving open the doors. With rage in his gaze, The God Emperor clenched his hand into a fist, letting him go as he held back his power. 

He watched a worthy being slip from his grasp forever. 

*** 

The doors hurled open, and Salduin prepared for the worst. Waiting outside, he and Lalian watched Clin march from the temple. 

“Where’s Hesin?” Clin demanded before either of them could speak. 

“He departed for the river,” Salduin answered with questions lingering upon his tongue. “What happened in-” 

The Knight silenced him with words of his own, grasping his forearm firmly. “Thank you, old friend.” His tone held a finality the large man didn’t understand, and a moment later he was off again, driven with purpose. 

Salduin glanced at Lalian, seeing a concern that mirrored his own. Glancing back, they watched through the open doors as The God Emperor picked up Clin’s helmet from where it rested. 

*** 

Hesin sat at the edge of the river, watching the water flow by in the darkness. Behind his mask he savored his solitude, seeking to clear his mind. 

He ran his fingers through the water, remembering how his brother had taught him to swim. Here, none would disturb him. 

Or so he thought. The smallest of sounds continued to pull his attention, often expecting Nafalya to emerge from the shadows to join his side, despite his wishes to be alone. When he heard loud steps upon the dark sands, however, he didn’t bother to turn. The approach of his lover was always soundless. Whoever approached cared little about concealing their presence. He touched the knife hidden in his sleeve. 

“It’s done.” 

The familiar voice was a greater surprise than he expected. His mood soured in an instant. When at last he turned his hooded head around, his single eye fell upon the one man he wanted to see the least. “So Clin arrives to disturb my peace. What’s done?” 

“Everything.” The armored man sank to his knees. When he unsheathed his blade, Hesin prepared to yank his knife free, only to ease when Clin turned the sword to offer its hilt. 

With a skeptical gaze, Hesin rose, his cloak wrapped around him like the night itself. “What nonsense is this?” 

“I confessed.” Clin bowed his head. “Now put an end to this. Kill me or forgive me. I won’t endure this guilt for a moment more.” 

Utterly baffled, Hesin was grateful that his mask hid his lips as they parted in awe. Momentarily stunned to silence, he eyed the blade as moonlight gleamed off its white surface. “The God Emperor knows of your deeds?” 

Clin nodded, peering up with exhaustion. “He knows. Do it. Put an end to the years between us with blood or mercy. Please.” 

Lingering in silence, Hesin had longed dreamed of such a moment, a day when he’d receive the justice he so craved. Now, watching his old rival kneeling at his feet, he found only a bitter sneer upon his hidden lips. What was there to savor but the memory of a family long lost? What could he take satisfaction in but the surrender of a long-broken man? 

“Do it,” Clin urged him, his sword feeling as heavy as the world despite its light weight. “If you must cut me down, I ask only that you tell Cendra and my son why. Make them understand that my love for them never ceased, though I can bear this no longer.” 

Disgusted beneath his cloak, Hesin sneered. “You’d have me explain why you abandoned them?” He saw the shame in his rival’s expression. “They’ll hate you as I do, though tell me something, Clin. You’re here. I suppose that means I should expect no justice from The God Emperor, correct?” 

Clin nodded soberly. “The only justice you’ll find is the one you deliver now. Do it.” Every second wore him down. He thought of the dead girl, of the weeping woman, still feeling the sting from the fresh scars scratched across his cheek. “Please.” 

The masked assassin considered the offer before him in silence, hearing nothing but the gentle waves at his back. As they stood upon the shore, decades of resentment and guilt between them, he sealed Clin’s fate. “Here is my justice, then. Live. I think that’s a crueler punishment than whatever this would grant you.” He batted aside the sword with disdain. 

“Hesin…” 

“Live because the tribe you slaughtered cannot. Because the family I lost cannot. Because my brother cannot. Because I cannot, not entirely. You stand before a ghost, a man half-alive. I think I see the same kneeling before me now.” Hesin regarded him with absolute contempt. “That is my justice, and it gives me far more pleasure than a mere moment of hacking your head off ever could.” 

Clin lowered his sword, appearing lost. “Yet my life here is over. I cannot spend a second longer among the ruins of all we destroyed.” 

Hesin waved his hand. “You asked for my judgement. You have it. How you live is not my concern. Go. Disappear into the night for all I care.” 

Rising, Clin sheathed his sword. He would not force his hand. As they stood together in the dark desert, feeling the night air, he watched the assassin turn back towards the river. “Is that all you have to say, Hesin? After all these years, you’d send me on my way without another word?” 

He watched the water flowing by. He didn’t speak for a long moment, though finally he removed his mask. Glancing back, he met the man he had known longer than any other with the face of the boy Clin had led from the rainforest all those years ago, now scarred and mangled. “You could have left me to die with the rest of them. You didn’t.” Once more he turned away. “I haven’t forgotten that, nor does it wash the blood from your hands.” 

When he realized he’d get nothing more, Clin turned towards the lights of the nearby town. With a nod of sorrow, he left the assassin behind. “Goodbye, Hesin.” 

*** 

In the darkness she lurked. A shadow upon the desert dunes, Nafalya watched The High Peacekeeper leave her lover. The display had been most curious. 

Hesin would have to go without her watchful protection for the moment, even if he didn’t know she had been nearby. Moving silently across the sand, she followed Clin back into town. 

Unaware of the stalker at his back, Clin strode quickly through Fask. Every corpse he passed drove his steps faster. His decision was final. Drowning in blood, in guilt, he forced his way quickly through legionaries oblivious to his intentions, grateful to find that The God Emperor hadn’t called for his arrest, yet. To be imprisoned for treason or mere disobedience would do nothing to wash away the guilt of his deeds. 

Storming through the temple annex, he rushed into his quarters. His mind was a blur, his movements frantic as he ripped the chair from his desk and tossed it out of the way. To slow now risked his growing reluctance to catch up fully, stopping him from leaving. He had to go. He would suffocate if he stayed. 

His hand moved erratically as he etched the words into the blank stick of the message cylinder, messy, though legible. Upon it he spilled his full confession. 

“Cilith,” he etched the name, feeling his hand tremble. To hold the truth inside a moment longer would be his end. Perhaps that would be for the best, though still he wrote. 

Never had he hated Vixin for what she did to him. Not truly. He knew that such a confession would risk destroying the peace between royal sisters, though to withhold it would damage Cendra all the same. She needed to know the truth of why he could no longer stay, else she’d blame herself. Even the distance that had formed between them had been a misdeed, allowing her to question why his heart had grown cold. She needed to know that it never had. 

“Forgive me, Cendra, though if you cannot, know that I have always loved you. Until my final breath, I shall continue to love you.” 

He sealed the confession inside the message cylinder, holding the words she deserved to hear in person, though he wasn’t strong enough. Accepting his cowardice, he fled his quarters and hurried through the halls. He found where Cendra had made her temporary home upon the second floor. The guards made no move to stop him, and he gently pulled aside the silk curtain concealing the doorway. 

In the darkness he saw all he’d leave behind. The center of his life rested upon a grand bed, hauled across the mountains by slaves, while their son slept in his own nearby. 

Creeping forward, he knelt at her side. Beholding the beautiful face of his sleeping princess, Clin dared to caress the dark hair of the woman he loved. 

“Forgive me,” he whispered. His blood froze as she stirred, silver eyes glowing in the darkness as they peeked open. 

“Clin?” Half asleep, her eyes fell shut again. 

Panic easing, he couldn’t withhold a whisper. “I love you, Cendra.” 

“I love you…too…” she replied, trailing off as she was lost once more to a dream. He hoped it was a pleasant one. Reality would be crueler when she awoke. 

Gone was the bitterness in her dazed state. Absent was the distance between them. He kissed her cheek, pressing his forehead to hers, savoring her presence for what felt like an eternity. To pull away was a battle he could hardly endure. When he felt her soft skin leave his for the last time, he placed the message cylinder carefully beneath her pillow. “I’m so sorry.” 

Managing to pull himself from her side, he found a task ahead that was far harder. Sleeping peacefully, Prince Cliax’s gentle breaths echoed quietly from across the room. Clin approached. 

Sinking down once more, he took in the sight of his son. Another of the few things in his life he had done that was good and right, he gazed upon the young prince, allowing tears to fall silently. 

He saw much of the boy’s mother in his features, and more of his grandfather, though his golden hair was his, laying in long strands. Clin touched his small chest. He couldn’t face Cendra. The boy, however, slowly awoke at his touch. 

“F…father?” Cliax rubbed his silver eyes, though Clin quieted him. 

“Hush,” he urged him, keeping his voice nearly as low as a whisper. “Don’t wake your mother.” 

“Are you…well?” the prince asked, seeing his father’s tears as remnants of sleep cling to his own gaze. 

Clin nodded. “I’ll let you go back to sleep, though you must know that I love you and your mother. Whatever happens, you must promise to remember that always.” 

Cliax mirrored his father’s nod. 

“Good boy.” Clin patted his chest, doing all he could to hold himself together. “Do you remember what I told you? A single good man with good intentions in the right place can change the world for the better.” He saw the recognition in the boy’s sleepy gaze. “Follow your heart, and even if you fail, as I did, know that I have been proud to call you my son.” 

Such words were a weight upon a child that could not yet understand, though he would. In time, Clin knew he’d come to know their meaning, for better or worse. He had faith in his son, a faith he no longer held in himself. 

“Rest now.” Clin tried to smile, though found that he could not. “The days ahead will be long, and you’ve only just begun.” 

Cliax obeyed, closing his silver eyes. Clin remained at his side, enduring every instinct that begged him to snatch the boy and take him along, to save him from The Empire he could no longer stand. He couldn’t leave him, and he couldn’t take him. 

Cendra didn’t deserve to lose her son because of the guilt and cowardice of her lover. Yet the boy was half Clin, his responsibility all the same, a duty he’d be abandoning if he left him behind. 

His decision was already made, no matter how long he debated to change it. A single thought of Cliax and Arinax playing in the snow snuffed out his lingering doubts. The Empire was the boy’s home. House Vaid was his family. To destroy his son’s life in the hope of settling another, while Dominax hunted them down to reclaim his grandson, was no future at all. 

“I love you…father,” Cliax muttered as he fell back asleep. 

Still Clin remained. Still he hesitated, delaying the inevitable. Every ounce of his already failing strength was required to stand, retreating slowly from his son’s side. 

Pausing before the curtain of the doorway, he glanced back a final time at his family. 

“Forgive me.” 

Slipping out into the night, he left the world behind. 

As he departed, he didn’t see the shadow outside the open window. Silent save for royal breaths, no sound disturbed the chamber as Nafalya crept inside. 

She crossed the room with trained steps, careful not to disturb her sister as her hand slid beneath her pillow. She had seen what Clin had tried to hide. 

“Curious,” she whispered to herself, finding the message. 

Opening the cylinder, her amusement quickly fell as she read the confession, words that would tear her family in two. With a glance at Cendra’s sleeping form, oblivious to her intrusion, she made her decision. 

Without a word, Nafalya slid the cylinder into her belt. 

*** 

Clin could see the first hints of the sunrise as he passed through the ruined gates of Fask. No legionary dared to stop The High Peacekeeper. No guard cared to question his departure. He left the town behind, absent a mount nor supplies, venturing out into the open desert. Fate would see him atone for his deeds or perish. Preferably both. 

“CLIN!” a shout came from behind. 

In an instant he whipped around, drawing his blade with little intention to use it but as a threat. He had come too far to be dragged back now. When he saw Salduin and Lalian rushing after him, he paused. 

“You…are…a madman…” Lalian panted as they reached him, winded from the long sprint. In his grasp rested the helmet Clin had abandoned. 

“You’re not leaving,” Salduin warned. “Not like this.” 

“You don’t understand,” Clin replied. “I cannot stay.” 

“Talk to us,” Lalian urged. 

Salduin circled around the blond man, blocking his path. “Make us understand.” 

Still gripping his sword, Clin gritted his teeth. “I’ve stood before countless corpses. Innocent men, women, and children, all of which fell to our ambition. I…I cannot continue to serve an empire built atop their bones. I won’t.” 

“Every being that dies shall be replaced with millions that shall thrive beneath The Eternal Peace of his holiness,” Salduin countered. 

Clin spat in disgust at his feet. “A lie I can tell myself no longer. Look at Fask. Look at the destruction we caused!” He waved his hand back towards the conquered town. “They didn’t ask for our swords! Nor did Kinia, nor Spirexia, nor Harin! We conquered them because we could! Because we told ourselves that they deserved it! That we were building a world that was better than the one that destroyed our home!” He stepped closer to Salduin. “We were forged by the tragedy of Nitri, and in our pain, our loss, we blinded ourselves to the blood upon our own hands, spilled with each conquest!” 

Salduin stood firm. “We can debate further when you’ve returned home, safe from this madness of yours.” 

Clin readied his blade. Never would he harm either of them, though never could he go back. “Don’t stand in my way. Please, Salduin.” 

The large man readied his hammer, blocking his path. 

White steel met white steel, and Lalian gasped at their side. Neither sought to strike at the flesh of the other, attempting only to disarm. 

Salduin knew his companion well. His limp was subtle, though the memory of the spear piercing Clin’s thigh all those years ago would never fade. Striking, he maneuvered his hammer to force Clin’s weight onto his weakened leg. With a hard shove, the blond Knight toppled over. 

Driving his sword into the sand as he struggled to rise, Clin watched as Salduin offered his hand. With a sigh, he accepted his aid. 

“Y…you’re vital to The Empire,” Lalian said as Clin brushed the sand from his armor. “I don’t understand.” 

Salduin wasn’t the only one with an advantage. Clin too knew him well. “Every day that I remain, more blood stains my hands,” he said, meeting the gaze of the large man. “You named me a good man long ago. I’m not, and if I stay, I never will be.” He sheathed his sword. “Yet if I go, perhaps I’ll become one. Perhaps I’ll fail. I’d like to try, even if it means my death.” When the large man continued to stare, he continued. “Perhaps all a man must do to be good is to walk away when evil requests his blade.” 

Putting away his hammer, Salduin’s gaze was fierce, lost in thought. “Is that truly what you believe? After all these years serving to build The Empire together?” 

Clin nodded firmly. “For all the years we’ve known each other, as friends, as brothers, if not in blood, in our duty, I ask you to stand aside. Let me go. Please.” His resistance fell away, offering himself entirely to the mercy of his companion. “Let me do what I must.” 

Salduin stared at him. An orange glow began to bleed across the sky as the night gradually came to an end. At last he loosed a deep sigh, slapping his meaty hand down upon the blond man’s shoulder. “Ah curse you! Is this truly what you want?” 

“Man to man, brother to brother, this is what I want. Please.” 

Gritting his teeth, Salduin reluctantly nodded. 

Baffled, Lalian stepped closer. “We…we cannot sit by as he dooms himself!” 

“You wouldn’t understand,” Salduin said with a chuckle, though it held more sorrow than humor. “Forgive me, Clin. I cannot say I agree, nor can I follow. My place is here.” 

“Don’t apologize.” Clin’s features became grim. “Though make me a promise. Cendra…my boy…” 

He didn’t need to finish. Salduin cut him off. “Both will be taken care of. Until my last breath, I shall protect them.” He offered nothing but a firm certainty. “You have my word.” 

A weight left Clin’s shoulders, though many more remained. “Thank you, old friend.” 

“It’ll be a shame to see you go.” Salduin clasped Clin’s forearm, unable to keep the sorrow from his tone. “Damn you.” 

Lalian waited until they separated before offering the helmet in his grasp. “If you cannot be convinced to stay…I…I’d like you to take what you left behind.” He let the Knight reclaim his helmet. “You need all the protection you can carry out there. I’d hate to see a good man perish without purpose.” 

Clin nodded, donning his helmet once more. “Thank you, Lalian.” As his dirty cloak fluttered in the morning breeze, he prepared to depart. “Please, do what you can for those still beneath the throne. Let some good come from the blood we spilled.” 

As he turned away, Salduin called after him. “We’ll meet again. You have my word on that! Either in this life, or the next!” 

“Goodbye, old friend,” Clin said softly as he continued on his way. 

Beneath the rising sun, a Knight marched into exile, pulling the hood of his cloak over his helmet.  

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