The courtyard was silent
Ruvan stood upon cracked stone slick with morning dew and blood. Shadows rippled around his feet, trailing across shattered columns and broken braziers. Dawn light bathed the imperial palace in soft gold, illuminating destruction with gentle cruelty. The scent of charred flesh drifted from smoldering pyres where servants' bodies burned in twisted heaps
He tilted his head upwards. Beyond the courtyard gates, the imperial city stirred. Rooftops glowed beneath rising sun. Smoke curled from temple towers and kitchens preparing morning meals for nobles who still dreamed of power and gods that would never save them
A soft laugh escaped his lips. Shadows quivered in response, like dogs pricking their ears for command
He walked forward barefoot. Each step echoed across stone. The gates loomed ahead, massive iron slabs adorned with the Emperor's sigil. He raised his hand. Shadows slithered up the metal, sinking into hinges and bolts. With a low groan, the gates swung open
The city lay before him. Silent. Sleeping. Unaware
He stepped onto the broad avenue. The shadows followed, spreading along cobblestones slick with dawn mist. Merchants drowsed in wagons parked for morning markets. Guards slumped against towers, helmets tipped low. Peasants huddled near fountains, wrapped in thin blankets against cold dawn wind
He walked among them unseen. Shadows curled around his presence, bending light and silencing footfalls. Memories brushed his thoughts. As a boy he scrubbed these very streets with ragged cloth until his knuckles bled. Nobles rode past on silver carriages, horses' hooves spraying filthy water across his back. No one saw him then. No one would see him now
He paused before a grand temple. Marble stairs stretched upward to obsidian doors carved with god sigils. Two guards flanked the entrance, halberds resting against armored shoulders. Their eyes were dull with sleeplessness
Ruvan stepped forward. Shadows rippled outward, sinking into the temple's cracks and seams. The guards shivered. One glanced at the other
Did you hear
His voice trembled
Before the other could reply, darkness burst from beneath their feet. Tendrils wrapped around their throats, crushing bone and steel alike. Their bodies dropped to marble with twin thuds
He ascended the steps. Each footfall silent as drifting ash. Shadows slid along white stone like living oil. At the top he reached the great obsidian doors. He placed his palm upon their cool surface. Darkness pulsed from his fingers. The carvings flickered, god sigils glowing for an instant before shattering like brittle glass
The doors swung inward
Inside lay a vast sanctuary. Marble pillars rose into darkness. Braziers flickered between stained glass windows depicting gods and angels in radiant victory. The air smelled of incense and cold ashes. Rows of kneeling priests whispered morning prayers, robes rustling like dying leaves
Ruvan walked down the center aisle. Shadows fanned out behind him, creeping along the stone floor and crawling up pillars. The priests froze mid-prayer as the darkness slid between them
One priest raised his head. His mouth opened to speak
Blasphemer
The word died as shadows exploded around him. His body crumpled, crushed by invisible force. Panic spread. Priests screamed and scrambled to flee but shadows rose faster. Bodies slammed into pillars with sickening cracks. Robes torn apart. Blood sprayed across marble. The braziers flickered, flames wavering under the storm of darkness
Ruvan continued walking. His eyes flicked across mosaics of angels trampling demons beneath golden spears
Where were your gods when I prayed until my voice bled dry
He reached the dais. A massive golden idol loomed above him. Gemstone eyes stared down in silent judgment. He placed his palm against its cold surface. Shadows rippled from his fingers, sinking into the metal. Cracks spread across the idol's face
With a single flick of his wrist, the entire statue collapsed. Gold shattered upon marble like brittle bone. Dust billowed outward in choking clouds
He turned away from the ruins. Shadows slithered after him, weaving around corpses and broken pews. He walked back down the aisle. His bare feet left bloody prints across cold stone
At the temple doors he paused. Outside, the dawn burned brighter, spilling gold across palace walls and tiled rooftops. Merchants were beginning to stir. Dogs barked down alleyways. Birds took flight from temple towers
He stepped onto the stairs and raised his gaze to the capital spread before him. Shadows gathered at his feet
He whispered into the morning air
This city belongs to shadows now
A scream rang out
His gaze flicked toward the sound. At the base of the stairs, a boy no older than seven crouched beside the dead guards. Tears streamed down his dirt-streaked face. In his trembling hands he clutched a half-eaten crust of bread
Ruvan tilted his head. Shadows curled up his ankles
The boy stared at him, eyes wide with terror
Please dont hurt me
His voice cracked
Ruvan descended the stairs. Shadows parted before his steps. He stopped before the boy and crouched down. For a long moment he simply looked at the trembling child. Memories brushed his mind. He saw himself kneeling in filthy alleys, praying to gods who never listened
He reached out with bloodstained fingers and brushed the boy's hair from his forehead. The child flinched but did not run
Ruvan spoke softly
Run
The boy's eyes widened. He turned and sprinted down the street, bread clutched against his chest. Shadows parted before his fleeing steps
Ruvan rose. Darkness gathered at his shoulders, swirling in silent hunger. He turned away from the sunrise. Behind him the temple smoldered with ruin. Before him the imperial city waited. A kingdom unknowing it had already fallen
He walked forward, shadows curling around him like a living cloak
Today he would visit the nobles in their ivory towers. He would pull them from satin beds and drag them screaming onto palace balconies. He would force the people to watch as their lords died choking on blood and bile
Tomorrow he would tear down the academies where priests taught children to worship silent gods. He would burn their scriptures to ash and scatter their prayers upon sewer water
And the day after, he would walk into the vaults where the empire hoarded its secrets and bury its history beneath shadows so deep even gods would forget it ever existed
Mercy is for gods. And there are no gods here
He smiled. Dawn burned across the horizon as he stepped into the awakening city
The empire waited
And he would teach them fear