To whomever finds this,

I am dressed in the garb of a soldier, yes, but I am no soldier. Not anymore. I suspect that by the time anyone reads this I will be either dead or near death. If I am still alive, please help me recover. I will repay your kindness in whatever way I can. Invictan or Valer, I no longer care. You are not my enemy. I am done with enemies.

Please. No more enemies.

-Hand-scrawled note found on Arshay’s corpse

244 YT, Winter: Kurikuneku

The mountains in the north cared nothing for Zoe Bari’s regard, but still she could not help staring at them in the distance. They were majestic, dark and unbothered. She crouched in the back bed of the vehicle and looked at the mountains. She felt as though they were watching her, judging her, and finding her wanting.

The gates of Kurikuneku were less a single set of gates than a series of paths bordering the edge of the city. As the truck rolled and rattled on across roads that went from dirt to gravel to light pavement, Zoe tried to remember the names of the squadmates sitting around her. She couldn’t recall a single one. It had been a difficult trip back from the north, stumbling into the border town of Carakhte after Zoe realized that she could not, in fact, invade the strongest Valer city on her own. Her rations had been spent for almost a week, she was ill from drinking filthy still water, and there was more blood on her mind than rational thought. And the wound on her shoulder had become horribly infected by the time she arrived.

But she survived, and she fell in with a squad headed back to the great city at the center of Gaurlante, the city nestled by mountains, the city that cast a glow against the very sky. She was headed home – the countryside far behind her, the ocean and the mountains in the distant north with the Wanderer’s Vale beyond them. The ground army was still massing at Carakhte even as Zoe’s small group headed back to Kurikuneku – she’d passed many caravans of soldiers headed the opposite direction on the way, had even fought alongside them when the Adma ambushed a group. Her most recent injury, a bullet that had grazed her calf, had come from that skirmish. The fighter who’d shot her, she paid back more than in full though. She’d given that Adma fighter a nasty hand injury that would keep her from firing any weapon for a long time, assuming she ever recovered.

She still remembered their defiant shouts as they vanished into the mountains again, routed by Invictan mettle. “We won’t be guests in someone else’s world!” As though the world was theirs by right. As though they had the right to breathe the same air Zoe breathed. It was absurd. Absurd that she could remember their defiant slogans, but not the name of the man next to her.

He smelled like the road, and sweat, and misery. She was sure she smelled the same. She wanted to reach out, if only for the ambiguous comfort of human touch, but what good was it? What is your name? Silently, Zoe stared out of the back of the truck. The countryside disappeared behind rows of buildings and walls and posts as the truck entered the city proper.

There was, of course, no solid line in the ground to show when they had officially entered Kurikuneku. Zoe decided it was good enough when they passed the first glowing neon sign. A bright artificial light shining during the day was a sure enough mark of Kurikuneku. No where else in the world, she thought, then realized that might be wrong. How far had she really journeyed? A few hundred miles? It felt as though she’d walked the length of the earth, but no – what did she really know of the world?

I wonder whether that Adma died after I shot her. Serve her right if that wound got infected. We ought to dip our bullets in poison, or fill the slugs with rust.

Another sign that they had fully entered the city: civilians started to come streaming out of their homes to watch. The truck was not announced – no trumpets and horns of victory or remembrance guided them along into the town. No voice called out their names when they passed. But a military truck passing into the city was a rare enough sight, compared to a truck departing. The people of Kurikuneku satisfied their curiosity and boredom by staring at Zoe.

And she stared back. Oh, she stared back and she saw them – dressed in their mundane clothes, carrying their mundane things. At first it was refreshing to see people dressed in the Gaurl way – everyone wore multiple loose layers, sheets of thin fabric in many colors stacked atop one another to create a full garment. Beads ornamented at least the sleeves of nearly every civilian they passed. In the cold – though the city was far warmer than its surroundings – a few wore their long coats, almost down to their ankles. Some of the women had cloth belts tied with tapestries too fine in detail for Zoe to read, while the men wore enamel on their chests, from the finest glassworkers in the city.

It was comforting to see them, yes. But they kept staring, and there were so many, all coming out of their houses to line the streets as Zoe passed. And a few of them even waved to her.

Her new comrades seemed to take to this easily enough. They waved back, and the man next to her – smelling of the road and of sweat and of misery – laughed and waved back. Zoe wondered how sincere his laugh could really be. She clutched her rifle in rest position, hunched forward, lowering her eyes toward her feet to shield them from the stares of the civilians.

They don’t know what’s happening out there, she thought as she watched them. It was the only explanation for their enthusiasm. Zoe was, to those she passed, a hero returning from a great journey. As the truck trundled through the central street, turned off onto a side street, and made for the barracks, the engine roared beneath Zoe. It shook her feet, sending shockwaves of vibration through her legs. They don’t know how brutal the frontier really is. And then something occurred to her, as she saw two youngsters in the crowd, arm-in-arm, holding up a banner of the Gaurl Core. A banner of the Emperor.

Even if they did know… even if they do.

She couldn’t catch what they were saying, the youngsters, but she could imagine it well enough. We love you, thank you for your service, blah, blah. Kivv hadn’t even fallen yet. Why were they thanking her when she hadn’t reduced the Valers’ city to ash? She couldn’t even manage to kill one stupid little psychopathic –

Her fingers curled and tightened, and she imagined Kamila Zelenko’s throat. She imagined herself, standing over Hilda Zelenko’s corpse, ripping out Luca Buday’s heart, and

Arshay.

She stared at the youngsters waving the banner, and they must have seen her, because their eyes lit up with excitement for a moment, only to die back down when they saw the hateful glare in her expression. The banner ceased waving and the youngsters backed slowly from the side of the road.

Even if they knew… they’d cheer for it all the more. They killed Plato. They killed Fatih. They killed Cigdem. They killed Arshay.

These people… they’re the ones who killed us.

Zoe’s grip on her rifle was tight enough that through her gloves she felt the cold press of the metal. She didn’t lighten her grip until the truck came to a stop, and she looked up, and they were inside. A large garage door made a slow descent behind them, and the soldiers stepped out of their vehicle.

Finally their voices came into focus, in the quiet of the garage and the isolation of Zoe’s separate military world. “And that’s why we don’t just take boats across the sea, irontoes. Besides, better to wait in Carakhte until the order comes and the real heavy-hitters show up. I’m talking about aerial support, artillery, the best Devotees in Gaurlante…”

The squad made their way into the barracks, guided by a sergeant whose name slipped over Zoe’s mind like the waves. “Each of your names is printed on one of the doors down this hall,” the officer said. “For the duration of your time here you’ll have your own private rooms, so enjoy that – you won’t get private rooms when you go back to Carakhte. I want to see all of you at 7 in the morning tomorrow, but for the rest of today you have no specific orders. That’s all.”

Zoe immediately started down the hallway, paying no attention to her squadmates around her. They continued their idle conversation while she checked the doors, until finally she found the correct one.

The door opened, and Zoe stepped into the barely furnished room. It was small, with no windows, a desk in one corner and a narrow bed in the other. Zoe dropped her backpack on the ground next to the bed and lay down, and closed her eyes until the angry buzzing began to fade into the background.

She opened her backpack and reached inside, retrieving an object she’d barely touched in the week since leaving Carakhte – a music player. One of the other squad members had given it to her during a late-night card game. She wished that she could remember who had given her the gift…

Zoe didn’t know much about music, at least not the tape on this player. But the music was comforting, repeating the same rhythm again and again with slight variations while strings and trumpets wailed in the background.

She must have listened to that song a dozen times before the knock came on her door. She had just enough time to put away the tape player and sit up on her bed before the door opened and her commanding officer (whose name she still could not remember) stepped inside.

His hands were folded behind his back, his back stiff. “My apologies for contradicting myself, but you have an important visitor. Stand at attention.”

A man entered the room – a man Zoe recognized. Clad in the garb of a High Priest, that simple white robe with its gold-threaded trim. The thread gleamed even in the artificial overhead light. The man was clean-shaven, face and head, and he wore golden armlets and silver rings. The armlets were intricately engraved, and Zoe wondered for a moment how high this man must have ranked to have such intricate armlets. Then she recognized his face.

“…High Priest?” she ventured, not letting her arm fall down from its salute. She tried not to make direct eye contact as Zhiren stepped forward, toward Zoe.

“yes,” Zhiren said, his voice soft and quiet. “You’re to have an audience with the Emperor.”

“…Me? Why?”

“It seems you have been chosen for an important mission. My lord will give you the details when you meet with him. This will happen tomorrow at sunrise.”

“I… see…” Still Zoe tried not to let her eyes meet the High Priest’s. an animal instinct inside her told her to tear past him, to run out of the building. But she was being chosen for an important mission, wasn’t she? This could be her chance.

The fingers of her saluting fist tightened, the nails digging against her palms.

“Get some rest, Zoe,” Zhiren said. “And may you be at peace this evening.”

And before she could muster the breath to respond, he left.

“Wait a second…” Zoe said. “This is…”

Her commanding officer gave a sharp nod and turned toward the door. “Get some rest, Zoe. I don’t know what is happening but it must be important. Don’t worry about reporting to me tomorrow, just get to your audience. I assume you know where to go?”

Zoe nodded. She knew where to go, well enough. She’d been there once before, under different circumstances. Whether those circumstances were worse or better, she still wasn’t sure.

Zoe did eventually sleep that night, if only because she was exhausted from the road. But rest was rest.

In the morning she was woken up by the sudden flashing of the light overhead. With no natural light from outside it was the only thing to give her an impression of day or night. She blinked away the sudden tears and pushed herself up from the bed, stumbling bleary-eyed into the wall. After she recovered, Zoe looked up at the light, still bright enough to make her eyes water.

She grabbed her backpack from the floor and made her way to the door, checking that she had her identification on her before rushing out into the hall. The others were beginning to emerge from their rooms as well – groaning in exhaustion at their sudden wake-up call. A few rushed down the hallway toward the showers, but Zoe didn’t have time for that. She didn’t know when the sun outside would rise, or what the official time of day was, but she had to rush either way.

The gravity of what was about to happen only hit her as she rushed down the hallway toward the barracks exit, and her squadmates pushed past her in the opposite direction. “Hey, Scout! Where do you think you’re headed?” One soldier she didn’t recognize (she thought she should have recognized him) reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder.

“I have an assignment to get to,” she muttered in response and pulled away, moving on past.

Outside, the sun still hadn’t risen – thank God. She was about to stand before the Emperor – the very center of everything she’d fought for.

And he just happened to be incarnated in the flesh of the man who’d ruined her life.

Zoe dashed through the city, recalling her training in Carakhte. It was like she was running with Cigdem again, or with Arshay and the other scouts. Their backs laden with heavy equipment, stepping efficiently while Cigdem shouted commands. Turn left! and she swiveled on her heel, catching the confused glances from civilians out for pre-dawn walks. She paid them no mind – they were irrelevant. The Tower of God gleamed, loomed over the city. It wasn’t far now.

When she reached it the guards did not stop her. Adorned in white and gold, wearing tabards of red and black, they slammed the butts of their spears against the ground to greet her, and they gestured her through. “You’re expected,” the two gate guards said in unison, and the door slid open for her. She didn’t see the guards touch anything – the door simply opened with a hiss, like magic. Inside, the light was almost overwhelming. Zoe walked though a glass chamber, circular, with shrines around the outside perimeter. Each shrine, draped in white and gold and black and red, held rolls of paper. Zoe couldn’t touch them, of course, but she knew each was brightly painted, with prayers to the Emperor made flesh written in elaborate calligraphic hand. She walked to the center of the room, where a platform was surrounded by low walls. When she entered, with a grinding metallic noise the walls closed in behind her. The platform began to rise.

It was a slow ascent, and as she went Zoe found her eyes wandering from he shrines and the statues and the paintings to the windows. The windows overlooked the entire city of Kurikuneku – even in the early morning it glowed. The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon as Zoe herself rose, and it bathed the city’s skyline in orange. She’d almost forgotten how beautiful the city was, out there in the countryside and the Vale and the outlying villages. Kurikuneku was… special. The most modern city in the world, that was what everybody said. And though she hadn’t seen much of the world herself, Zoe didn’t doubt that it was true.

Staring out at the city, she had plenty of time to wait and ponder, even while she grew more nervous and her heart thudded in her chest. The Emperor… she was about to meet him again.

He stole everything from me.

I owe him everything.

He took my research and made me into a soldier, made me something I wasn’t.

He gave me life, he gave me loyalty, meaning.

And besides – he has something I want.

Power.

Revenge.

It had to be revenge. There was no other conceivable reason why she would be called to the Emperor. As the elevator continued to rise, past shrines that grew closer as the walls of the tower slanted inward, she came to that realization. Zoe was going back to the Vale. She was going to Kivv. She was going to kill the Mirshalites. It was the only explanation that made sense. Her mouth curled in a smile as the elevator approached the top of the tower.

Above, she saw a flat ceiling. She was approaching rapidly. If the elevator did not stop, she would be crushed. But she had been here before. She knew she was safe. The circular gates opened in the center and the elevator passed up through them, coming to a slow stop and clicking into place with the rest of the floor.

Behind her a door opened, and she started to turn slowly, anticipating the bright light on which she was about to look.

And a gentle voice said in her mind:

“Do you want to hurt the ones who rejected you, Zoe?”