Barely escaping the prying questions of the princes, the heavy suffocating feeling started to weigh in his body like a rock. An overwhelming pressure pressed him causing him to almost stumble over his steps: overstimulating and a risky move. Cain's body could go numb for hours, shaking the whole time and even letting the anger of the Bastard Emperor's memory.
Cain stared at the ceiling of his chamber, deep in his thoughts, although empty in mind. All he could ever register in his mind was the red silk pouch scented of strong medicine that lingered in his nose. That strong scent of medicine smelt like an iron in the furnace, like fresh soil and blood.
Cain is not a fool. He accepted Prince Abel's gift personally. The silence that followed was deafening, and the intensity of the gaze made him feel as though he was being scrutinized by a thousand eyes. The moment felt frozen in time, and Cain knew that he had screwed up badly. He should have known better that he should not have touched anything that belonged to Abel, because everyone inside the room knew what happened back then. Even Lucien, his unrelenting face distorted into an offensive scrunch.
It would be soon for them to raise suspicions just alone from speaking to his brother, potentially starting something anyone from an ancient civilization could do. He heard that people from a thousand years ago were obsessed with burning, to what the generation he was in called the "Knowledge killers" They let anyone they found suspicious aflame. Those who looked stupid yet spouted knowledge are considered the demon incarnates that cause havoc in the land. And do not get him started, if not burning people alive, just a hundred years later they'll cook someone in lead them into their downfall. Cain might find himself engulfed in flames once more, burning like a morsel without oil. How many times must he be burned? It's been twice already, his past life, this guy and he doesn't want it to be a third time!
He quickly rose in his bed, grabbing his wooden cane that lay resting near him. Cain could only sigh when he had to rely on a walking stick just because he hit his knee on the table which now had become a pain in the ass, as if his bones were already not on the brink of breaking. The cane was sturdy when he held onto it. He could feel his legs going numb when he tried to stand. Eventually, he squirmed from the pain.
Cain reached for the mirror, wanting to confirm his appearance one more time. "I look like a bastard," was all he could say because, indeed, he was one. He couldn't deny who he is now. As he gazed at his reflection, he noticed an uncanny resemblance between his current face and his past one. Perhaps it was the determined look in his eyes or the ruby hues that were identical to his former self. It reminded his appearance before he became a scientist at Ark Laboratory. A pretty young lad, that's what everyone used to say. Pretty lotus in the middle of a wretched soul full of corpses and rats. Only to be plucked so ungracefully.
His focus shifted to the windows, below the pillars where armies with dark iron-clad armors, robes painted red, and a pointy headdress with the tip a tassel of gold and feathers. He heard the loud grunts of the soldiers as they all carried spears, positioning themselves in a protective stance. They were like a pillar of the fortress, steadfast and unrelenting even by the dust of wind, they were untouchable. He saw Lucien and stood there in authority as he commanded all the armies. The face he put on is fierce and adamant, a command he spoke is something to tremble. Cain thought that his Uncle had given him the unsettling suspicion.
Lucien has military power, a power only granted of seal which is personally handed over by the Padishah of Empire. He is the Duke as he is remembered as indirectly Khan, his ultimate power lies within the armies of Ja, consisting of hundreds of thousands of armies with intense training and learned different styles of combat. They are pillars of Emyrs, the Empire wouldn't be an unbreakable fortress without formidable soldiers. He does not only control the Armies of Ja but also the whole army of the Empire. The Capital of Ja maintained peace, while the other cities were also divided armies centralized with roles and also becoming Pasha, a high military status that makes a sort of noble in society.
Raan Army is not an exception to this rule, Demir Pasha is the heralded General of Kashgar. Armies in the City are ranked according to merits and good deeds as well as slaying beasts and legendaries. It might be Lucien's out of control to see Demir's motive. Unless he did know it, maybe Lucien is the real perpetrator behind the scenes of a well-made brutal assassination. He remembered how Lucien used to have the power of regent king before the Emperor arose in his adulthood.
Lucien holds more authority than it appears. He is as dangerous as a viper can be.
Given the intricacy of the plan, Demir must have been driven by a strong motivation to be so bold. Cain stared into the mirror, pulling silly faces to lighten his mood. He propped his cane against the mirror and turned away, but it slipped, knocking over the lamp. The lamp fell but did not shatter. Beneath where it had stood, Cain discovered a round metal disc etched with a moon-like design. He paused, rubbing his temple as he tried to process the situation. The lamp's base was similarly engraved. When he returned the lamp to its metal disc, he observed that the disc had two layers, hinting at a hidden mechanism. As he twisted the lamp clockwise, it clicked into place. The sound of turning gears echoed from behind the wall, reminiscent of a ticking clock. In each rotation of the lamp, a metallic groan from the wall keeps tuning. Until it moved no further. The mirror's reflection had vanished, only left by a frame into an open passage. A stairs leading to the unknown abyss, it was even barely wide enough for a single person. He mused from what saw, a small dry laugh escaped from his lips, "What a sly fox."
He attempted to use his cane on the stairs but found it difficult as the steps were only about three inches each. He was concerned he might fall into the void, the uncertainty dawned on him terrifying. He huffed when he tried to sit on the stairs and slowly descended, using his cane for support. Cain swore for his whole life that he just wanna cry his lungs out for such a humiliating circumstance. He internally cried out even for God to hear out his pleas in this manner.
When he felt that he had reached the end of the stairs, it was still dark, hot, and suffocating. The thought of no light in the room made him panic for no apparent reason. He let his cane guide him, and for a moment, he understood what it felt like to be fully blind. Darkness engulfed the entire room as if a monster could emerge at any moment and take his life. Even a single light seemed a rare find. "Where is the light?" Cain muttered. His hands wandered in the corners, hoping to find something a switch might just suddenly light up the whole pitch-dark room. "The light..." he kept muttering as he tried to find it, reminding himself of what he sought.
Click.
In a sudden mishap, he inadvertently set off a hidden mechanism embedded in the ancient wall. As if responding to an unseen command, the room was thrown into a sudden burst of light as flames erupted from the once dormant torches with startling immediacy. The unexpected ignition of the torches made him freeze in his tracks, and a yelp of surprise caught in his throat. His heart pounded against his chest like a wild drum, threatening to leap right out of his mouth with the shock. The rich, heavy scent of burning oil filled the room, invading his nostrils and making his senses reel with the sudden change.
His eyes darted around the room, the magnificent reveal awed him. A round golden globe illuminated the room from the center, nestled within two rings reminiscent of a solar planet. The ceiling was draped with hanging silks dyed in shades of violet, and small globes that replicated the universe's planets adorned the room. A few steps towards the center revealed a semi-large circle marked with red scribbles and various shapes, under which a large ornate clock resided. The clock's mechanisms resembled a compass, including a thin, large dial attached to the red scribbled circle. As it slowly rotated, a sun and moon appeared on opposite sides. The room held an unusual detail; an intricate clock mechanism embedded into the floor. Cain found himself dividing his attention between the peculiar installation and the various other intriguing items scattered throughout the room. There were jars of unknown substances, bottles with aged labels, chests probably filled with forgotten artifacts, and books left open as if in mid-read. Each object seemed to hold a story of its own, left unattended and forgotten. Looking back, the room had the atmosphere of a mysterious hideaway, a sanctuary for the peculiar and arcane, yet the more he looked around the more he knew it was an occult room.
He carefully retraced the steps towards the nearby woven mat, meticulously observing the surroundings. A small, wooden table stood alone in the center of the room, an unattended book left open, its pages rustling slightly in the gentle breeze. The book seemed to have been abandoned mid-read, he deduced that the Emperor may have cut out in his study. The hardened wax from a spent candle had dripped onto the table, hinting at the many hours the Emperor may have spent engrossed in the text, reading until the candle had no more light to burn. On the corner of the table lay an inkstone, it used to be vibrant black ink yet now dried and cracked from the abandon. A solitary brush lay on the floor nearby. He picked up the lone brush and reached for the book that the Emperor had used to read, and in rough and thick edges of the paper was a large character written with great haste.
The disorder of time, Entrepein, is a natural order of the universe.
Cain's curiosity fueled him to flip every page of the book, as he did his best to understand the contents of it. He had read various theories, drawings, ancient myths, and the magi existing in this universe. A new world was introduced to him. Alchemy and astrology almost sound like a branch of science expertise, using components to create and decipher.
Was it possible that he had been performing this unsightly ritual right under the palace's nose? He hesitated for a moment, pondering the question of whether a God could be called in this manner. Would God even pardon such a method of calling? The use of unnecessary blood and sacrifice is unsanitary and spreads so much bacteria, thinking of it made Cain gagged from the amount of possible bad bacteria roaming around.
When the water switched in the tub, it was magic all along. This world has magic. Although Cain is never fascinated with the thought of it, does he feel the need to fantasize about the idea of it?
He has created scientific inventions, deserving of his title and fame. His era is forwarding more into a magic of advancement. Flying cars that accelerated from ten thousand kilometers away in the blink of an eye, teleportation even existed, a home that could function itself with the tip of its owner's finger, flying wings that soar you into the sky with different designs to choose, weapons that are charged with solar beams and even flying cities exist. Cain no longer finds any joy in the wonders of magic.
He read another chapter in the book. "The truth lies beyond the reach of human perception. God's perception is beyond our comprehension, and we can only perceive what humans are capable of perceiving. If ye are willing to make the ultimate sacrifice, they may be able to access the realm and find what ye are looking for, even if it seems incomprehensible. God exists in a world beyond ours, where neither heaven nor hell exists, only a place in between." his brow furrowed, his eyes lingering back to each sentence so he could comprehend. Beneath the paragraph is a handwritten sentence etched in fine cursive.
If seeking an answer needed to sacrifice a greater one, do it all thy worst even if it's the price of thy soul. Beware for God may not exist but a greater vast, answer will meet a dead end.
The Emperor's handwritten annotation. It was the nicest handwriting that he could ever read, languid and steady as if determined on its own, the curves of each letter intrigued him more. Cain traced those in his fingertips, attempting to copy the written strokes for himself. It was amusing how the Emperor's is indeed a beautiful calligraphy to behold, for such a cruel man like him. He flicked another page in the book, and a new topic was shown in the paper.
There were drawings of what may be called the Overseer. They were depicted as half-bodied humans with features of animals, and they were the high beings that were born, their birth was like the stars of the night skies, with skins that were untouchable and their names even gave them dyslexia. One of the overseers that caught his eye was the one who had six eyes on his head, the hands of a hawk with feathers, and the, claws t, that had a sharpened end. The Overseer of Time, Korslyx Ryimn, is a being born in the space of time that transcends the universe.
Cain pondered if the Emperor is indeed a God in some way because a human's soul should have been somewhere that put them in peace. Yet the Emperor is just standing there in the empty void while who knows how he spent his eternity in a blank space. The ritual circle was also almost similar to the one in the void, yet he couldn't be too sure. All of these are too unfamiliar to him, a variable that he doesn't know, a word he needs to decipher. It was like puzzle pieces that he needed to find in able to fit them all for a bigger picture.
For a moment, he slowly retrieved the book to where it was and took a deep breath. Pacing around the room, his mind racing at a fast speed in symphony in his beating heart. All he could ever grasp was this one thing—an occult hideaway beneath the palace is far more terrifying than a basement of non-permitted laboratory research. There is this psychological effect of meeting an unknown is more scary than being curious about knowledge. It only gives him a shiver down his spine.
If he had to do the same method then would he be able to come back to the so-called place of in-between? After all, that circle made him transport in this world. He saw it unveil in his eyes, only the question remained. If only he knew how to do it, the drawing of the circle is one thing, yet to manifest and make it work is another work to achieve. For Cain who had no clue where to do it, he's stuck on the obstacle of the road until a sign is leading him somewhere.
He has read about those scientific research suggests that our world is multidimensional, the numerous layers existing simultaneously. Beings in the higher dimensions can potentially observe those in the lower ones. He interpreted it as the existence of heaven and hell or even aliens. Ms. Jei, his colleague, would constantly yap about the universe, it's her fixation. She finds the available literature inadequate for her insatiable thirst for knowledge. One day, she disappeared in the sight of humans, not being able to come back for years. She never came back, all that was left was her empty room like she was never there, to begin with.
Cain would not want to believe those things, but being a dead person who possessed someone's body, he is given a chance at life in a world different from his. Doubting is baseless. Curiosity is power. He takes a step into the circle and somehow that same feeling of being dragged down with hands on his feet almost surreal. Every feeling of it. Every bit of it is the same. His ankle throbbed in pain, the ache blossomed into a searing protest with every agonizing inch he could feel the burning sensation.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. It was a loud knock that echoed to the room.
Cain's heart hammered a frantic beat against his chest, almost lurching and with intensity. Blood rushed into his heart, almost drowning in the catch of the act. "Heavens—," he cursed and spared no other moment from pulsating pain and the intense pull, searching desperately for his cane. When he took a step, it was like moving a whole mountain at the tip of his toes, he winced in pain once and bit his tongue to hold it.
"Your Imperial Majesty, are you there?" the voice echoed from above.
With a desperate sigh that escaped his lips, Cain had no choice but to unforgivingly crawl onto the floor. He could almost feel the taste of his blood, the sweat and slick in his forehead, streamed down in his face, as he reached out in the cane. The time is ticking. The insistent knock on his door made his ear feel like it was grated against his skull. An annoyed curse escaped in his breath, a harsh rasp against the panic in his mind. He protested any further of the humiliating crawl that agonized his own feet more as he took each step like climbing a mountain with bare hands.
Clear lights in the afternoon, welcomed him like a kiss on his cheeks, a warm one and the scent of the sun enveloped his nostrils. The medicine's overpowering smell almost gagged him, it was putrid and spicy making his head almost spin. But the knock outside the room still goes on, mimicking the frantic of his mind. Trembling hands scurry to the side of the cabinet, reaching for the heavy lamp and turning it counterclockwise, a faint click from the back can be heard. Cain looked back at the mirror, the reflection of his own glimpsed the sweat and disheveled appearance.
"Come in." his hoarse voice rushed, as he was finally able to catch his breath. Cain scrambled to sit up in his bed, smoothing his disarranged himself to appear normal. His eyes anxiously followed the door being opened slowly.
The sound of jingling coins was familiar. The black robe with its annoyingly draped collar rounded at the top of the center front, the raven hair styled in various braids, and the cape resting on his shoulder was all too recognizable. His jaw clenched as he locked eyes with those piercing teal orbs of a scarred eye. hat held his breath in fear. A silent air enveloped them. Lucien grimaced, a glint of disapproval displayed on his face.
"Y-your Grace––no––Uncle," Cain greeted. "To what honor do I have this visit?" he stammered trying to not give away his act, however, Lucien looked more disappointed than he ever was. The raven-haired man sat on the floor mat, with a small table full of fruits a few meters from the mirror.
Lucien cleared his throat. "Did some jinn possess you?" he chided. "You're letting that little brat do what he wants. Seeing him getting coy with you just gives me the most displeasure. Has the assassination messed up your mind?"
"I am well." Cain drew his breath. "I am quite distressed in myself."
There was something about this guy that reeks of a dangerous poison seeping into every corner of his skin. His piercing blue eyes haunted his mind, the uncanny almost made him want to chuckle. Yet his instincts to fight for survival kicked him right into the mind that he should be serious.
"Distressed?" Lucien's voice trailed off into the stillness of the room, a question hanging in the air like a delicate string as if it were going to snap. His hand moved slowly, reaching out to take a ripe pomegranate from the ornate bowl that sat between them on the table. "You should have understood your situation right now," he added, his voice a soft murmur against the hushed silence, "Ignoring it will only give rise to more distressing matters."
His gaze never shifted from the pomegranate in his hand, the rich red color of the fruit a stark contrast to the paleness of his skin. "You may feel distressed now, but Demir's conviction does not signify the end of the road." his gaze shifted back to Cain, he could see his nephew's face masking with a vigilant stare, "There are still twigs in our path that we need to sever, roots that we must pull. We would not want to soil the good things."
He paused then, his hand moving to reveal a dagger hidden from his waist. In a single swift, precise motion, he plunged the blade into the heart of the pomegranate. The fruit erupted, its juices spattering across the table and staining the pristine linen with a vibrant burst of red, becoming a mess on the table. Across the room, Cain clenched his hands in the comforts of his bed, the thick scent of the medicine muddled his mind making less of the concentration. "You can't find the fire without the smoke," Cain added, his voice echoing in the silence that followed.
He's one real psycho. A crop does bore on the same tree.
He bolted from the comfort of bed and accompanied Lucien. He knelt on the mat, offering Lucien a good slice of the pomegranate, the juice of the pomegranate splattered on the table stained his clothes, and the stain on the table bothered him like a mosquito bugging him in his mind. "Killing Demir won't make things better. We are fueling more of this fiery fire." the Khan went silent, gnawing at the pomegranate. When he finished a slice, he sighed in disappointment. Cain panicked and tried to muster any conversation he could do to make him not give away that he was not the Emperor. "He led Raan Army, those who served under him would rally. Kashgar netizens might be rebelling." Cain continued the conversation as he tried to reason with him.
All he could ever do was to say anything and anything he could do to please Lucien and give him some time. He is not yet able to grasp the situation of the assassination and he's yet to determine the life of someone.
Lucien's brow furrowed in confusion at Cain's words, "Punishing a traitor and hanging him in front for the people to see would back down their silly fantasies. You're an Emperor, you have the power to command." the dagger in his hand stabbed into the table."Make use of that authority, Cain."
Do not be a coward. He's beyond angry that his expression is trying to keep him in check with his emotions.
"Uncle, that is too risky. You know who is involved in this matter."
Lucien stopped eating the fruits on the table, the words struck him like a chord. "Cain!" his voice thundered as the bolt, the table shook violently his hands gripped into the edge, and the eyes of his glinted fury. Lucien's calm face contorts with rage almost giving Cain the fright in his life. The ornaments on the table crash onto the floor and the ripe pomegranate rolled on Cain's side, the crimson stain of the table and the mess reminiscence of a murder. The fury of Lucien finally started to show the colors.
"Uncle, please calm yourself." Cain pleaded, internally panicked. Yet, Lucien looked like a storm that could not be calmed. "Calm me? You almost died at the hands of that lowlife and yet you dare not punish them?!" the grip on the table looked like it almost broke in half.
Lucien's expression was all over his face, it was the look of bloodshot. Cain sighed, "I do want to kill all of them. However, I need to get to the bottom of this, we cannot waste this opportunity to investigate—"
He cut off Cain's words, "What do you even need for investigation? We trusted Demir Pasha and he planned the assassination because of the Kashgar Prefecture. They hated the Emperor that they planned this for too long and they took the opportunity when you visited. What is more plausible?!"
Cain looked him eye to eye, the fear in his mind no longer lingers in him but the feeling to stand on his own. "I read the first draft of the royal scribe, there were fifty assassins, twenty-five are Kashgar citizens, and I assumed the remaining were dead on the spot. As far as I could remember, there were hundreds of soldiers accompanying the trip."
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to retrace the memories. "I saw someone, draped in a robe and their face hidden beneath the mask. They looked like not someone they were not from the army nor planted assassins," Cain said. Lucien seemed to be interested and his body tensed.
"How can you say so..?" a frown formed in the facade of his cold face. "Do you remember the day? What do you remember? What happened?" his voice sharp in disbelief, his body leaned closer to him and grabbed his shoulder. "It's a blur…" Cain clenched a fistful of his hair, "After Demir Pasha pushed me into the river, someone knocked him down. As I thought it was Duke Kryous… but it was that man."
"Who?"
The grip on Cain's shoulder almost hurt him, clutching into him. Cain tried to do anything, he squeezed his eyes shut as a strangled cry escaped in his lips. Memories flickering at the back of his mind, a blurring vision emerges the sight of a green-scaled reptile. Razor-sharp fangs glinted, a forked tongue hissing and piercing eyes. "Snake… I see a snake… In their hands.."
Snakes. The very word and sight of this creature can send an Empire of Emrys into turmoil. A history of the snake extinguished the Emperor and Empress in a sliver of blood. As the events unfurled, and the sight of it is an ominous sign; snakes have become restricted in the sight of every border in Emrys. Lucien detested the idea of snakes, detested the idea of his sister dying in the hands of a mere, lowly, fanged, treacherous snake. The mention of it almost sent Lucien to burn in anger once more, his grip loosened from Cain's shoulder. His wandering eyes glanced at the red stain on the table. A damned serpent is at again to come again to his loved ones.
The silence went on for a minute.
"I will give you three weeks to investigate." he finally said. "Three weeks and nothing more, If you did not present me a sufficient evidence. The judgment shall proceed to the Sulh Faction, and determine the faith of the traitor. Oh, and do not talk about the snake you see."
"Thank you, Uncle." a brief of relief washed over him.
Lucien looked at the red stain on his nephew's shirt and he softened. "You should wash that up, I might have frightened you." Lucien voice's softened, softening his cold features into a hint of concern. He reached out and gently tried to rub the stain. Resting his hand on Cain's shoulder and patted him, giving him a reassuring smile— a smile that crept into Cain, as if this guy had not gone frantic a few seconds ago.
A forced awkward smile formed on his lips. His uncle doted on his nephew since child, the most shocking how they can even pass up as brothers by their ages are only five years apart. Lucien treated him like a child.
Lucien was left in the room with mess scattered there and here as if nothing happened to him. Cain's legs gave up in fright and sprawled into the floor cushions. A lace of grief washed over him, there was a sense of nostalgia rippling into his mind. Then there is this memory again, it poured him overwhelmingly. The raw and vivid scent of lilies suddenly registered in his mind, as the memories of the Imperial Majesties death became more apparent.
—
The horrible stench of blood, rancid and musty, enveloped the air of a confined place. Screams, sharp as a knife, and the pleas of the sinners echoed in the cells. There were groaning sounds of the dying men rotting in every corner to end their hell of demise. The only light that gave them a glimmer of hope was the flickering torch, an obtainable light while the darkness seemed to gallop their mind and body awaiting the judgment of the horrors they shall face.
Lucien navigated every corner, the sound of the prisoners no longer echoed, and more prisoners almost died in the cell, and the only sound was the jingling sound of his jewelry. A harsh grating sound of the iron door swaying open. A scene of blood-soaked and beaten Demir Pasha, kneeling on the ground and the both hands bound to the dirt floor. While Zhiruo's eyes could not see how blood already splattered on the floor nor see the gut-wrenching pain in his blind eyes, Zhiruo could not spare a glance of sympathy. He can only keep ordering to torture him till Demir drops to death.
Demir's eyes looked out of it, his breath ragged from the torment of the whip. When he a dark figure in his vision, lifted his head and gazed at the cold eyes of Lucien.
"Look at such grace, walking like a king…" Demir slurred his words, trying to keep his strength in front of the Khan. Zhiruo tried to look around who Demir spoke of. "Who are you talking to?" he asked.
"Ha. His Grace, the Khan."
"Ah, his grace! Welcome, pardon for my lack of sense in your presence." Zhiruo eagerly greeted the Khan, a servant guided him to Lucien, an off-putting smile made Lucien irked in annoyance. "I can sense the heat of your head radiating, like a volcano on the verge of eruption. Perchance you'd wield fire by now." he chuckled, an amusement in his voice. "What news have you come bearing to have your presence in this filthy cell?" Zhiruo smiled.
Lucien cast a quick glance at the person holding Zhiruo, his trusted guide. As they moved out of sight, Lucien leaned in close to Zhiruo and whispered, "The Emperor has decided to keep Demir Pasha on hold. He's the one to investigate it." Zhiruo's smile vanished instantly, his brow furrowing in confusion. "And the reason is?" the blind prince asked in disbelief. Although Lucien appeared uncertain, he replied, "We shall give him time, he is convinced that Demir isn't the only one behind the assassination."