Evan Currie - Heirs of Empire

William walked dutifully behind the crown prince as they negotiated the dark metal corridors of the palace. Over the generations the Imperial family had brought in touches to soften the hard feeling of the place, but you couldn’t quite get away from the cold steel that surrounded you.

Historically it was difficult to keep people in the palace, in truth. The Imperial family was known to be of sturdy stock, but even they were occasionally driven from the structure by mysterious happenings. Lights where none should be. Voices and music from the ether. On occasion, things would shift and move as though someone were there when no one possibly could be. The halls felt a little too squat for comfort, the doors a little too wide. None of the proportions were exactly what people felt they should be, even after lifetimes and generations had passed.

For all that, however, the palace was the symbol of the empire and never remained unoccupied for long.

It had been decades since the last vacancy. The current emperor refused to be pushed from his seat of power, and perhaps as a sign of his strength of character, the palace seemed to concur, becoming kinder and gentler in its moods and offerings. However, even without major incidents to terrify the occupants, it occasionally proved difficult to retain staff.

William had never encountered anything he couldn’t explain, but he knew the feeling of something being off as you moved through the metal halls.

Kayle had grown up in the palace, and like a true Scourwind he didn’t seem to notice the discomfort his home caused others. William suspected that he, like most of the Imperial family, actually enjoyed the notoriety the structure evoked.

“Did you look in on my sister before coming to fetch me, Will?” Kayle asked, barely tilting his head to see the Cadreman walking a half step behind him.

“Yes, my lord,” William answered immediately, his thoughts about the palace vanishing in an instant. “She is in science class at the moment.”

“We’ll check in on her, then,” Kayle said. “It’s on the way.”

William merely nodded, knowing that his opinion wasn’t being sought on the matter. Nor would he care to offer it.

Lydia Scourwind was staring at the display at the front of the class, her eyes slightly unfocused as her mind wandered from the lesson. She knew all this—really, she did. Why did they have to keep making her review it?

“My lady …” The attendant sighed. “Please describe the nature of the observed universe.”

Lydia sighed as well, but her eyes refocused on the attendant as she began speaking. “The observed universe exists as a sphere that is measured in the length of time light takes to cross from one side to the other,” she said simply. “Due to some variation in the speed of light, and the difficulty of getting a direct reading through the celestial flame, the precise measurement is under some debate, but most people accept that the universe, as we know it, is between two and three hours across at the speed of light. Of course, that speed is impossible to reach, and no expeditions have returned from more than three days’ travel beyond the world walls, largely due to lack of fuel, it’s speculated.”

“Very good.” The attendant nodded. “However, why did you say the ‘universe as we know it’?”

Lydia sighed again. “Advanced research speculates that there is more to it than that, and the math behind our understanding of physical laws seems to agree.”

“Excellent, though somewhat advanced for this class.” The woman smiled. “Now, if you could please try to pay attention from now on?”

“My apologies,” Lydia replied, not looking particularly apologetic.

The attendant took what she could get. Teaching members of the Imperial family could be a frustrating exercise, despite the fact that she had dispensation from the emperor to discipline them.

Lydia was, quite possibly, the worst of the lot.

The girl was frighteningly intelligent—there was no question of that—but she was a terrible brat who knew just how smart she was. It made for a bad combination with the privileged life she lived, but there was little to do about it than continue on.

A noise at the door caught the attendant’s attention, and she saw the uniform of the Imperial guard standing there as a familiar figure in royal colors stepped in.

“I do hope I’m not interrupting anything important?” Kayle asked with an easy smile and a tone that made his question sound far more like a statement than a question.

“No, sire, please …” The attendant gestured with a smile as the emperor’s senior Cadreman just smiled wanly in her direction.

“Brother!” Lydia squealed, leaping at Kayle.

Like her brother, Lydia had inherited the sharp features of their father, but her body was clearly inherited from her mother. Lithe, with only a hint of the curves that she was sure to grow into in a few short years, the young girl had long raven hair that contrasted her brother’s sandy blond as the two embraced.

“I didn’t know you’d gotten back. When did you get in?” she asked as he set her down.

“Late last night,” Kayle explained. “Just a training mission, Lyd, nothing to be concerned about.”

“You’re never around anymore.” She pouted, a look that rarely failed to get her whatever she wanted, even from those who were familiar with her tactics.

Kayle, however, just laughed at her.

“A few more years, Lyd, and you’ll be doing the same. The flag must be flown.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Yes, yes, I know.”

He smiled at her. “You’ll understand. I just wanted to check in and say hi while I was here. Father called me in. I’ll try and meet with you later.”

The teen pouted at her older brother, only to look immensely frustrated when he just laughed at her again.

That just made Kayle laugh even harder, much to her growing ire, as he backed out of the room and waved to both his sister and the attendant.

“Pay attention in classes, Lyd. They’re important,” he told her as he closed the door behind him.

Lydia glared at the door, wanting to shout out a comeback but knowing full well that he wouldn’t hear her.

He always gets the last word.

The Imperial throne was located in the largest hall of the palace, a place that always felt dark and foreboding no matter how many lights were on or how it was decorated. The dark metal that made up the entire construction of the palace felt more deeply black and otherworldly here than anywhere else.

Kayle personally felt that it was mostly psychological, but the size of the space also played a part. The sheer scope of the hall alone would have absorbed a majority of the area’s light, but the dark walls gave the empire one of its most enduring nicknames: the Throne of Shadows.

His father was sitting on the throne as Kayle walked down the length of the hall, the sound of his footsteps echoing steadily as he approached. He came to a stop twenty yards from the throne and inclined his head as the guards examined him for weapons. Only when he was cleared and the emperor had waved him forward did he approach.

“Father,” Kayle said as he came to a stop at the base of the metal throne, “you summoned me.”

“I did.”

Edvard Scourwind was neither an old man nor a particularly impressive one to look at. His thick beard was well maintained and his voice rumbled slightly as he spoke, but sitting on the large throne, he looked almost younger than his son.

“We lost contact with a supply train a week ago,” he said. “It was going to the Redoubt.”

Kayle stiffened, his mind racing.