Ch. 1 Traveling Abroad
Chapter One
Dane watched the procession march down the streets, his elevated height on the crumbling warehouse’s roof gave him an unobstructed view. Streamers and confetti fell on the assembled marching column, the young people in the parade waving and laughing, full of cheer and hearty celebration.
I should be down there. Standing shoulder to shoulder with the rest of them, Dane thought bitterly to himself.
He ran his hand over where he knew his demon brands were. Smooth as glass, they were unnatural against his skin, upraised and easily distinguishable. The hood was tugged further over his head to keep his head further concealed.
Dane looked toward where the leading elements of the parade were. Horses trotted with noble children astride them, decorated in silver and gold, flashing steel in the sunlight. Ranks of the nobles strode with scions of houses so ancient and grand that their origins were no longer known. Ahead of these ancient and powerful bloodlines, three rode in a delta.
His eyes lingered on those three, leading the parades in chariots drawn by massive horses whose coat’s gleamed in the light of the sun, silky black without a single spot marring them.
He forced his eyes away from the thousands who were marching in lockstep and started his way down the outside of the warehouse. The rusted steel ladder under his hand rasped at his calloused palms and then he was in a dank alley, the smell of urine and decay strong enough to make him wrinkle his nose.
A trio of vagabonds huddled around a burning pile of junk, the acrid smoke of whatever it was they were burning mingling cruelly with the scents already at play. He clung to the shadows as the adults looked at him with sunken, red rimmed eyes. Yellow teeth bared through their tight grimaces as they sneered at him. He stared back, meeting their eyes from the shadows of his hood until they grumbled under their breath and turned away from him.
Dane tugged at the hem of the hood of his cloak, the tips of his fingers brushing his shorn black hair that clung tight to his skull, and tightened the strap on his bag across his shoulder. He reached inside of his cloak and into the inner pocket of his vest, touching the hard shape there, as he had done so many times the last few days.
He followed parallel to the parade, worn boots silent on the damp streets. People flowed past him, dressed in festive colors, oranges, reds, pinks, autumns, peach, all of them wearing garland crowns or having fresh flowers in their festival clothes.
The contrast between them was stark, his dark green cloak ragged and brushing the ground, hem wet and black with filth. His pack was nothing special, simple plain canvas with ugly black stitching that held it together. Those festive goers shot him looks, but they streamed past him, flowing alongside streets to catch the last glimpses of the parade.
Dane followed along the path until the roar of the crowd began to batter him, picking up in volume until it was nearly deafening. He cut into the crowds and followed down the side street and into the heart of the crowd. Dane twisted and salmoned as he walked through the crowd, getting closer to the massive raised platform that the parade was filling up.
It was built into the middle of a wide courtyard, surrounded by tall brick buildings with stained glass.. Everyone could see it, stare down on it from their balconies that ringed the buildings, the red flowers grown in the planters giving a splash of color against the cream colored stone. All of it paled in comparison to the ancient platform made of black stone that glittered like a million stars had been placed inside the stone.
Dozens of wide steps led up to it with a giant, blue, stone arc covered in ancient runes that hummed with power he felt even from hundreds of feet away. Projectors shone into the sky, reflecting well even against the sun as Empress Laruan strode to the center of the platform in front of the arc. Her stern face was wide with a smile as she raised her arms up and the crowd began to slowly quiet.
Dane stopped moving, not wanting to attract attention to himself as the Empress spoke. She was dressed in silver steel with white scarves over her shoulders and a garland of white roses contrasting against her dark skin. She smiled widely as the crowd’s adulation quieted.
“My subjects! My people! It is the fifth year!” her voice was drowned out by the crowd as they erupted into the largest roar yet. The air rumbled and the ground shook as people stamped their feet in joy. Dane moved as the crowd surged, using the distraction to get closer to the wide steps.
“We have connected with our descendants from the last cycle! They have earned honor for us, for the Empire! Another world in our orbit!” The roars of joy again as the Empress’s face was replaced with hard eyed men and women, scarred and grim, belying their youth. They had smiles like wolves and eyes like pits. Dane got within a hundred yards of the steps, a line of royal blue armored guardsmen blocking any from getting closer.
I wonder who is under that armor today? Is it Leorin or Taun or maybe even Grenth? Rotten bastards.
“Now, we must send another wave. To further our honor, our prestige, our culture, our wealth! But this, my citizens, is a special cycle! For it shall be led for the first time in over a hundred years by one of the Royal Blood!” Empress Laruan pumped her fists in the air as the crowd exploded in joy.
“It is even more fortuitous that this special occasion is marked by the Cycle of the Dragon! A sign that our Empire shall prosper even further! Now, to commemorate this moment, as our youth venture forth into the universe, we shall hear words from my son, the prince, Xeroc!” Laruan stepped to the side as the crowd went wild as Xeroc walked into the spotlight.
Tall and handsome, the youth wore short cut hair and had a wild smile full of life and joy. He waved back and forth and the crowd’s exultations rose higher and higher.
“It is my greatest honor to lead this group out in the universe! The cream of the crop and I do not say that lightly. This is the most talented, hard-working, and ambitious group of warriors to venture forth since the founding! We shall honor our ancestors, we shall honor the Empire, and we shall bring even more glory to these decorated lands!” Xeroc finished off his speech with a wave of his hand before backpedaling.
The smile Dane had to suppress would have been wide and bright. Xeroc wore a good mask of being an outgoing person, but Dane knew the prince too well. He was a generally quiet man who preferred the practice yards, rather than standing out in the spotlight. Unlike his mother, who had cast him the most gentle of frowns as she stood back in the spotlight. She had undoubtedly planned for Xeroc to speak longer.
“Now, for the gate to open and the Incursion shall begin anew. As our founders fought for land with the System’s coming, so shall we bless foreign lands with the holy cleansing of battle. And if they shall prove too weak for our blessings, then we shall be caretakers for the lands they could not hold,” Empress Lauruan said. Dane couldn’t help the bitter smile that crossed his face.
It was after all how his father had been found. In the holy cleansing of battle on a newly integrated planet.
A gate behind her snapped into being, golden light filling the world as she turned and waved at it as the crowd screamed in joy. Xeroc walked toward the front of the line, his gold filigree armor sparkling as he threw back his cream-colored cloak and stepped bravely into the light. Two more of the High-Blood followed behind him, then the streams of the nobles. For minutes Dane watched the lines of people walking through the portal, then the well armored nobles were gone and it was time for the wealthy non-nobles.
They were dressed in lighter armor, less filigree but still well made. Children of merchants and wealthy artisans. All of them groomed for this moment when their family could hopefully take the next step up in the rankings of the Empire.
Then came the peasants. They wore the best finery they could get a hold of, armor underneath. There’d be a few decent pieces in there, but the vast majority of the horde entering the incursion were poor, though some would have decent training and armor. Those who had impressed in the games and earned sponsors. Or were legacies. Nearly ten thousand marched through the gate over the hours.
People began to leave and the crowd began to thin now that the rich and powerful were gone. They faded away like the mist in the afternoon sun, evaporating away. Until Dane was left standing there staring at the squad of armored soldiers protecting the landing steps. The Empress had managed to disappear minutes after her son, the line of nobles who had lined the platform to watch their progeny also off to war leaving moments after she did.
He walked toward the line of armored soldiers, his hand drifting into his cloak to finally pull free the coin. The hard piece of black iron absorbed the light around it, drinking it in and drawing the eyes to its gloomy surface. The guard’s looked at him, sneering through their half-helms before backing up.
Dane walked past them, coin held out like a shield, and started up the wide steps, mounting the platform in a few easy moments. He looked around and saw he wasn’t the only one. Seventeen others, all cloaked and hiding their features, held black coins outward as they climbed. None of the others spoke, just climbing to the top as they held their coins out.
Dane was the first though, the first of the outcast. Of the banished. Of the exiled. Of the Shadows.
He reached up and pricked his thumb on his elongated incisor, a drop of blood welling to pool on the surface. Dane smeared the droplet of blood on the coin before flicking his thumb and sending the coin spinning through the portal. There was a minute flash as the golden light when incandescent, and then Dane was stepping through and into the incursion.