"Servant of Empire" - Ch 4

When I woke, I was in a soft four-poster bed with a linen sheet drawn over me. I sat up to review my surroundings and found myself in a rather fancy guest room, dominated by dark woods and a large mirror on the far wall. I had a soft bandage around my right hand, slightly blood-stained.

I’m embarrassed to admit that dread took me. Was it real? I tried not to look at it.

I made use of the chamber-pot and located my clothes (all of my gear was present, laid out and cleaned to inspection-levels of immaculate). Once dressed and my hygiene attended to, I headed out into the hallway. A small bronze globe detached itself from across the wall from me and floated in the air. I looked at it for a moment before muttering “Lead on.”

The globe apparently accepted at least short voice commands, as it slowly drifted down the hall. I had to pause once, sitting on a chair in the hallway, leaning back against the wall and covering my eyes with my sore hand. The little ball floated patiently.

I lowered my hand and looked at it. The wound still burned somewhat. I peeled the bandage away, revealing the symbol charred into the back of my hand. Blood glistened around its edges, but otherwise it appeared clean.

Shadrim don’t burn easily – that’s a courtesy of our heritage, a little bit of Hell’s fires burn in us already, which makes us somewhat resistant to combustion. So I assumed some of the pain I was experiencing was a result of its novelty, not its severity.

Gone. I looked at my hand again. It was the Imperial seal. Based on what I remembered of succession, this meant I was the senior-most living member of the nobility. My earlier musing must have passed for acceptance, as the brand would not have found its way to me without it. It also meant that a council for voting was impossible – the families must either be extinct or disenfranchised. This was a last-ditch form of succession.

Perhaps the Empire still existed somewhere? Or, after eighteen hundred years, no one remembered enough of the Empire to know how to transfer the rulership.

But that couldn’t be – I didn’t think an existing Emperor could be dethroned this way. There were laws, procedures, I’m sure. Simply accepting the fact would not remove a sitting Emperor, nor even a Regent. Would it? I’d never heard of a new Emperor being declared during the reign of another.

I drew my gloves from my belt and slipped them on before continuing after the small metal sphere. The bandage fit, albeit snugly, under the leather. I would probably have to take it off on occasion to give the injury a chance to breathe, otherwise I would be inviting infection. But not right now.

I entered a banquet room, and found the company that had rescued me all seated around a long wooden table, eating and drinking. Rendo looked up with a grin and pointed to a seat. “You’re up! Come and eat something.”

Orandor, his back to the door from which I entered, stood and turned to me. He bowed and I saw his eyes flick to my gloves. He stepped to me and bowed again slightly. “You blacked out after…after.” He pointed absently to my hand. “Is the wrapping sufficient?”

I nodded. “Yes, it will be fine.”

He shook his head sadly. “I fear for what we have done here, though the timelines appear to be undamaged. In any case, I would be grateful if you would join us for breakfast,” he then added, softly, “…Your Grace.”

I took note of the title, and it made my guts quiver.

I was the Emperor…of a dead empire. Seems Balenor was right, all those years ago.

I was grateful to see there was coffee on the table, and helped myself to two cups before even beginning to contemplate eating. At least coffee was still here. I was still adjusting to their dialect of this language, but even that morning it was easier to listen and derive meaning.

The human woman, whose name it turns out was Nix, stood up as I was digging into a slab of ham, eggs, and some fried sliced potatoes. “We’ve been talking amongst ourselves before you came in, Azrael. Orandor,” she nodded towards the old wizard, “Orandor informed us of your situation. We are all sorry that you are unable to return home, and we apologize.”

The tall one, Sered, frowned when Nix said the word ‘apologize.’ He glowered at me, though he did make an attempt to conceal his emotion.

I sat silent for a moment, thinking of what to say. I was a jumble of anger, sorrow, and disbelief still. Self-control exerted itself, and I was glad for my time in the Caern Jale. “You rescued me from what seemed to me certain death. I would be dead in short order had you not done so. That death would have taken me from my home just as surely as being here would. Except I would have no chance to live further or even possibly return home had you not acted. There is no apology necessary.”

Nix seemed relieved to hear this. “We also have all agreed,” she was watching Sered carefully now as he said this, “…that if you wish, you are welcome to join us as a full member of our company. We are short one member now, and we would be glad to have you stay with us for as long as you wish.”

I thought this over while I chewed and swallowed. The food was good – not Imperial standard, but good. Scrambled eggs with pepper, a heavy brown bread, plenty of fresh butter, thick slices of cured and roasted ham, and plenty of fresh milk.

“I am flattered by your offer,” I said. “This is all rather sudden, to me.”

Nix nodded.

“Take your time,” Rendo said. “We’ve got a couple of days here.”

Several of the group chatted amongst themselves, topics which I didn’t readily notice. It wasn’t until after I’d eaten my fill and leaned back with my coffee that I took stock of the situation fully. I noticed Sered eyeing me carefully over the rim of a cup of milk. His eyebrows raised almost imperceptibly, the question apparent.

Orandor pulled out a chair next to me and sat. Quietly he said “I’ve seen that mark, in some of my books. Is that what I think it is?”

I nodded, and replied equally quietly. “Yes. Apparently I am the current Emperor, though it is quite beyond me to understand what I am Emperor of.”

“Well, Your Grace, you are welcome to guest here for as long as you require while you adjust. Though the invitation of these others does seem, perhaps, useful?”

“How so?”

“No better way to learn the world than to travel it. This will be a different world from that from which you came, much can change in the time you’ve skipped over. And having colleagues, perhaps even friends, can help anchor you.”

I nodded slightly, not sure what to say.

“Can we talk about this in more detail, later?” Orandor asked. “I would like to know much about your world, and if possible, I would like to investigate that,” he inclined his head towards my hand.

“Investigate?”

“It does have a certain magical radiance,” he said.

“Ah, yes, I suppose it should.” The Emperor’s seal was on me, which meant the inherent protections of it must have followed.

“Yes,” I said. “Though I would prefer it remain private.”

“Of course. That is wise,” he said. “Many today would not hesitate to deal fatally with a newly-risen Emperor of Vorus.”

I recoiled at this as if struck. “Why would that be?”

He frowned a little. “Your kind is not exactly recalled with fondness,” he said. “In fact, Shadrim are considered something to frighten young children with.”

“I see,” I understood this, but my heart was not embracing the idea. “How many of us are there remaining?”

“As I said, there are a few communities, mostly remote. Nothing like the Houses I’ve read about. Any one group is probably no more than a thousand, and in the major cities there are always a few here and there. But the population is small. Here on Maure, I imagine the total to be less than fifty thousand.”

Some empire, I thought. Fifty thousand. We used to number in the millinos. I had to get home.

Sered had made his way over, and pulled a chair up with us. He nodded politely to us both. His form was strange to me, too tall to be human.

“You have been telling him about this world?” He asked Orandor this as he adjusted his chair.

“Yes,” the wizard said.

“It is quite an adjustment,” I said. “I still would prefer to return home.”

The tall man nodded. “I understand. I would prefer to have left you behind.”

“I did get that impression,” I said.

“But you are our responsibility. We have brought you here, it is up to us to ensure that you can do no harm.”

“That’s an interesting way of looking at it,” I said. “What makes you think I want to do harm to anyone here?”

He frowned. “You are Shadrim,” he said. “Overwhelmingly, your history is one of causing harm to others to favor your own goals.”

I shrugged. “Not all of us are malignantly harmful,” I said. I glanced over at Orandor, “I see your point.”

“Be that as it may,” Sered said.

“In point of fact, I have no plans as of yet to be killing or maiming any of you today.” I smiled my widest, to show off my teeth and make a proper display.

“Perhaps I was less than diplomatic in my statement,” Sered said.

“That much is certain,” Orandor interjected.

“Look,” I said. “I get that perhaps you don’t have the highest opinion of my kind. But here I am, and I’m not about to go feasting on the entrails of children.”

“That is good to hear,” Sered replied.

“I am still grateful that you all rescued me,” I said. “But I would appreciate it if we could start from a blank page, the two of us. I feel as though you have already decided I am some kind of nightmare creature.”

“In my experience, your kind is that,” he said. “We have few, if any, stories with Shadrim as the heroes.”

I tried not to frown. “I’ll see what I can do to correct that,” I said.

His face remained grim.

“At present, I just want to go home.” I said. “I have been informed that there is no hope of return in this house, and I am trying to assess how to get myself back. Sadly I don’t know much of your world, so finding that path is starting from zero for me.”

They both remained silent.

“Since for the time being I am stuck here, seems best to find out what I can, yes?” I asked.

Orandor nodded. Sered remained still.

Okay, fine, I thought. I stood and spoke loudly. “I accept your invitation. And I am grateful that you offer it.” I felt the weight of it settle into my stomach like a stone. Was I accepting the death of my world so quickly, so easily?

No – not its death. It still existed, and perhaps there was a way back. Just not here. Not with Orandor.

Wynter clapped his hands together, and for the first time I noticed he wore what looked to be a tunic of a religious order – it was emblazoned with a stylized sword and shield beneath a rising sun. “Fantastic! It is good to be back to five.”

“Five?” I asked.

“Five’s a lucky number,” he nodded as he said this. “We lost Rohrahl rescuing that crystal. Only four after that. Now, it is Sered, Rendo, me, Nix, and you. Five again.”

Sered rose, looking at me. “It is against my judgment that the others have decided to bring you in, but I accept their voices as equals. You have yet to prove yourself to me, and I know something of your Empire’s ways. Things have changed since those times, Azrael, and justice has prevailed.”

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to, and I’m not so sure I like the tone you’re taking here.”

Nix put a hand on Sered’s shoulder, guiding him to sit down. “What he means to say,” she said, “Is that in our world, your people are spoken of with fear. They are deeply disliked in most regions, even hunted in some.”

“Orandor mentioned that just now.” I looked into my empty cup. “Go on.”

“Your rule over this world was cruel, and is remembered even today. The few Shadrim who remain generally stick to their own, and those who venture out would be unwise to expect fair treatment.”

I suppose in a world run by slaves gone free, that made a certain level of sense. I nodded in acknowledgement of this fact, if not in approval of it.

Rendo spoke up. “We protect our own here, though. We won’t let you down, just as we will rely on you.”

“Thank you,” I said.

Nix raised a cup of coffee. “This should be wine we toast with, but what the hell. Welcome to the Grey Wayfarers.”

They all raised glasses or cups as were available and all spoke together. “Grey Wayfarers,” they intoned.

I filled and raised my own glass, then said it for the first time. “The Grey Wayfarers.”

Orandor stood again. “Now that that is handled, your payment. I will bring wine later, if you wish to do it ‘properly’.” He waved a hand absently and a small door to one side opened. Two humans – the first living servants I’d seen here – brought in five small sacks of leather, and dropped one in front of each of us, myself included.

“Your share,” Wynter said. “We all agreed that if you accepted, you should have Rhorahl’s share.”

The Arrollian, yes. I opened the sack and saw a smattering of gold and a pouch of brown velvet. Inside this I found four emeralds. “Why? What did I do to earn it?”

“Technically nothing,” he said. “But if we don’t award his share to a successor immediately, it will be forfeit as tax to the king. Better to give you some incentive than to give any more to that freeloader.”

“The items I promised shall be ready by the next time Suche reaches half-light,” the old wizard said. “I’ll need time to perform the proper rituals and recuperate.”

He looked over to me. “I agreed to enchant one piece of equipment to a certain degree for each of them. Before you take your leave, you and I can speak. We can determine what would be of use for you.”

I nodded dumbly, not having much to say.

“Meanwhile, that gives you all something on the order of five weeks to wait. There are several villages nearby, at least one of them might have a little work here and there for you, and you can enjoy the company of more than an old man. The nearest is Evelineton, about a week’s ride following the main road to the East.”

He stood, taking up his cane. “On that note, I shall bid you all farewell. Your horses will be prepared for you in the morning.”

He walked slowly out of the room, the door closing with a firm solidity.

Nix watched after him. With a grin he asked, “Did he just kick us out?”

Wynter shrugged. “Wizards. No social skills.” Nix threw a roll at him.

Aha, so Nix was a mage of some kind.

“So, Azrael, what is your specific profession?” Rendo asked while standing on a bench to reach the basket of rolls. He smeared one liberally with a red preserve. “I saw you had a sword and bow, and that you keep a shirt of mail, but what’s your specialty?”

I tried to think of the terms in their language. “I was a Commander in the Caern Jale, an…” I struggled to think of the word. “An infantry officer. I was often tasked with special missions, as an infiltration and recon unit for my Battlemaster.”

“Know any magic? Everyone in your empire was some kind of super wizard, weren’t they?”

“I am practiced in some measure of arcane arts, I was taught as a child, and trained in troop support and rituals in the Caern Jale. I’m a decent archer, and some of my arts lean that way.”

Rendo nudged Wynter. “See? Told you. They all were magicians back then.”

“Not all of us,” I corrected him. “Some specialize in nothing but hand-to-hand, some are mages trained in the Caern Magistra, some are simple merchants. A lot of it depended on what family you belong to or unit you have attached yourself to.”

“Don’t you mean ‘were’?” Sered said. I tried to keep from flinching, but didn’t do such a hot job of it.

Wynter glanced his way. “Don’t be a dick, Sered.” Something about the way his voice sounded seemed off, but so many things were strange I didn’t follow it.

Sered looked over to Wynter, breaking his stare from me. “It is not my intention to give offense, but to remind our new member here that the world is not what it was. Better he have the reaction now than when we need to rely on him.”

He looked over at me again. “There have been several aborted attempts to re-establish your Empire over the centuries. I was an observer of one such time, two centuries ago.”

Two centuries? Just how old was this guy? He didn’t look Elvish.

“This adjustment you will go through will not be easy. We will help where we are able, but it will be largely up to you to remain…functional.”

I couldn’t fault his logic. But Wynter was right, that was a dickish thing to say.

“Yes, we were,” I corrected myself. “Anyway, yes, even our chidren had rudimentary magical training. But I am not a wizard.”

Orandor chuckled. “What you call rudimentary, today would probably be considered an accomplished wizard.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know the standard today, so I cannot say. My house had leanings towards the elemental magics, I can summon small ones, and have some small capacity at directing them in a…less constructive direction.”

Nix sat forward. “Did you say you can summon elementals?”

“Not big ones,” I looked around. “Why?”

She shook her head. “Hell’s gate, man.”

“What?”

“It takes twenty years or more to learn that.” She set her hands on the table. “And you say you’re not a wizard?”

“No, I’m a soldier. There’s no way I could compete against a full wizard of the Caern Magistra,” I said. “I know far too little for that, though there are days I wish I had taken the opportunity to study there.”

Nix let out a low whistle. “Not sure how you all fell, but it must have been something big.”

“I’m not sure either,” I said. “Things seemed fine from where I sat, but from what you all say it was only a few years later that the empire came down.”

Twenty years to learn children’s spells? What else had been lost? This really was a whole new world. Maybe it would be better to treat it that way, to assume this was just a different world, and I simply needed to find a proper gate home.

I stood up and walked over to the food, shoveling a fresh helping of eggs onto my plate and laying a bit of bacon atop them.

“What kind?” I hadn’t heard Nix approach.

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“What kind of elemental can you summon?”

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t understand. I can pull them up to slightly more than man-sized. I did one about the size of a bull once, but that was really exceptional and I haven’t matched that since. I also couldn’t maintain it, it didn’t last long.”

We walked back to the table and she sat beside me.

“Maybe I wasn’t clear…what kind? Air, fire, water, or earth?”

“Oh, my mistake. All four,” I said. “I feel best with fire, but I qualified with all four to man-sized.”

I stuck a piece of bacon in my mouth. The salt cure was perfectly done, and it was just crunchy enough to give my teeth something to work on.

“Hell’s freaking gate, man,” she exclaimed. “Are you telling me you can pull manifestations of all four elements at the size of a man?”

“That’s correct,” I said, not without a little bit of pride.

“Okay, so you actually are a wizard, even if you don’t think of yourself as one,” she said. “I have studied for decades, and I can pull one like you said, about ox-sized, but only of air. I can’t do earth at all, and I can only get child-sized water or fire manifestations.”

“I’m not much of an evoker, if that makes a difference,” I offered. “It’s just that my family had a lot of good books on the elements.”

“I don’t want to compete here,” she said. “I just want to assess what you bring to the table.”

“Do you all travel quite a bit?” I asked, trying to tangent the conversation.

“Oh yes, we go all over. We came here two weeks ago for this job of Orandor’s. He had sent out missives across the kingdom to attract groups like ours.”

“Groups like yours? There are more?”

“Some, yes. Companies such as ours exist as profiteers, usually with court approval. Many more informal groupings are around, but they never get very good without being royally licensed.”

“Did you ever do anything quite as strange as this job?” I asked. The eggs had some strange spice in them, not pepper, something a little sharp and sweet at the same time. It worked really well with the fluffy scramble.

She sipped some coffee. “Hmm…nope, can’t say I did. You?”

“Well, when it comes to experiences, I led a team through the Fey lands once, that was pretty strange. This place is more normal, but back then I had the expectation that if I lived I’d be going home. It’s pretty strange not to have that option here.”

She nodded without looking at me. “Sorry about that, I don’t think any of us really thought about what it meant to bring you here.”

“I said before, I meant that - nothing to apologize for. I asked to come, after all, and as we talked about, if I’d stayed I’d probably be dead. I’d rather be alive and here, you know?”

“I guess so, yeah,” she said. “Still, I’m saddened at the loss you’ve suffered.”

“Me too,” Rendo said around a mouthful of ham.

“I appreciate your saying so,” I replied.

An awkward silence fell on the table for a few moments.

“I’m not saddened at all.” Sered said. “Your empire was responsible for the suffering of how many millions? How many slaves went through lives of misery and died early?”

“Lords above, Sered,” Nix said. “Way to shit on a moment.”

I sat back. “Yes, you’re right, we maintain a great many slaves. My house had several thousand in Vor Kanta alone. You have no slaves today?”

Sered frowned.

“Slavery does exist still, yes,” Rendo said. “Maybe not as much, though.”

“And the wars? The conquests?” Sered continued.

I paused, and thought it through. “Yes, there have been many wars. May races died out as a result of our battles with them. I am personally responsible for the extinction of the Arrollian’s breeders.” I thought it through. “Correction, I thought I was. Since you had one among you, apparently I missed at least one.”

Sered nodded. “These injustices your people visited upon your subjects were horrible. So I will not ask for forgiveness that I have no sadness for the end of your empire.”

“Sered, please drop it, for everyone’s sake,” Nix said quietly.

Orandor, thin-lipped, raised a hand gently. “It has been eighteen hundred years,” he said. “And his people are not the only ones to commit atrocities.”

“That is true,” Sered said. “But we are not discussing others in this conversation. I brought up no comparison.”

“What are you looking for me to say?” I asked. “I fail to see what you are after, Sered. Are you expecting me to grovel on the floor, begging you to absolve me of the sins of my people?”

It was Sered’s turn to sit up straight. He hesitated a moment, then said: “I wanted to remind the others that your loss was the thing that enabled our world to move forward and survive. It seemed their sympathy might have given way to a certain forgetfulness of your people’s crimes.”

I sighed. “I will make no claim that my people are perfect. I will also point out that in spite of our blemishes, we saved this world. We put the Nikkrit to the sword, whose appetite would have rendered all animal life to be mere food for their appetite. We defeated the P’Logrian, whose religious zeal would have rendered each of your kinds extinct in service to their deity. The Arrolians whom I personally fought, would have both enslaved you and eaten you when you could no longer work.”

I took a drink. “So yes, although my people have our full share of flaws, we are not entirely without redeeming qualities, thank you very much.”

Orandor nodded. “Before this debate becomes heated,” he said, “Perhaps it is best to accept a difference of opinion and to also recognize that we at this table are individuals, not entire peoples, and to make the best of what you have before you.”

He glanced over at me with the word peoples, as though wondering whether what he was saying was not true.

Sered was not entirely happy with this, but he did nod agreement. I also inclined my head in his direction, attempting to acknowledge that I still respected him. I wasn’t entirely sure I did, but it was best to at least pay some effort in that direction.

I sat up straight and said, “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to retire for a little while. I am still somewhat tired, after recent events.”

I stood and returned to my room. So much of this seemed so very unreal. I kept looking at the window and wondering where I was, where everything I knew was. Inside I understood what had happened, but a large part of me simply didn’t yet accept it.

I sat on the edge of the bed, the coffee having gone sour in my stomach. For the first time, I felt a swell of panic rising up, fearful that I was never going to make it back. After all the battles, the fighting, the training, after all I’d seen and done, was everything truly lost? Was it all just for nothing at all? Everything I had built my life around, every core assumption, simply gone?

The panic faded, softened, and became something else – a sense of grief, I think. I have fought off hordes of enemies in my lifetime, but in that moment of crushing alone-ness, I will admit I did shed a few tears.

As I was washing my face, a gentle knock at my door caught my attention.

“Enter,” I said, still splashing water across my forehead.

The door opened, and Nix entered.

“Hey, I want to apologize for Sered out there,” she said.

I stood up straight. “You don’t have to. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I feel like I have to,” she said. “I know he won’t, but we’re all a group, and what one does the others share.”

“That is admirable,” I replied. “Apology accepted.”

I turned away and pulled my gloves back on. “I used to expect that sort of thing from my men in the field. It is good to see you all work as a team even when at rest.”

“Well, if we don’t stick up for each other, who will? Most of us, except maybe Wynter, we don’t have a lot of strong family connections. So we kinda are a family to each other.”

I nodded. “Makes sense,” I said. “I am uncertain about why you would invite me to join you, given that at least one of your member doesn’t like me very much.”

“Sered doesn’t mean it personally,” Nix continued. “He spent a good bit of his life fighting Shadrim, from what he told us.”

“I see. Hard to separate individuals when you have a war to fight. Been there myself, I suppose. Still and all, you really have no objection to having someone like me,” I gestured vaguely at my horns and tail, “Among you?”

“Are you kidding? Have you looked closely at Wynter? And how ugly Rendo is?”

I chuckled and held my hands up in submission.

“You know, it’s a pretty nice day,” she said after a pause. “Rendo and I were going to go for a walk around the compound later, want to come along?”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to be around people that much, but I also didn’t want to just hermit up in my room. “Yes, that’d be nice. Couple hours?”

Nix nodded. “Sure. We’ll come by and knock if we don’t see you in the main room.”

“Thanks.”

She quickly left and closed the door.

Though the panic was not in the fore, I could feel it lurking in the back of my mind. I considered it quietly for a few moments, and after a bit recognized it as the same feeling I used to get before a battle. My old captain, the man who’d run our training camp when I first became an officer, had taught us all a good lesson on how to deal with such fear.

I gave it some more thought, and realized – that lesson applied far more effectively now than it ever had before.

I simply had to accept that as far as my world was concerned, I could not influence it further. Nothing I could do at the moment about it, other than to accept it and apply myself elsewhere, as best I could. The simple lesson still echoed in my ears from the first time he told it to us: we were all dead, and as soon as I accepted it, I would be able to move on without the fear.

(All content here, outside of those elements attributed otherwise, is copyright (2025-) Thomas Theobald. With the exception of AI training, personal use with attribution is granted.)