Page 1 of Empire of Wrath and Ruin
1
The city of Thal'Zereth defied every expectation I'd harboured about Talfen civilization. As Taveth led me through streets carved directly from the living mountain, I found myself constantly looking up, my neck craning to take in the impossible architecture that surrounded us. These weren't the crude dwellings of savages that Imperial propaganda had painted in my mind. This was artistry on a scale that put the greatest achievements of the Empire to shame.
The buildings rose in organic curves that seemed to flow like water frozen in stone, their surfaces covered in intricate carvings that caught and held the late afternoon light. Spiralling patterns wound around doorways and windows, depicting scenes I couldn't interpret but found them beautiful, nonetheless. Bridges of worked stone arced between structures, creating a network of walkways that existed on multiple levels, as if the entire city were a three-dimensional maze designed by artists rather than architects.
What struck me most was how normal it all felt. Despite the exotic architecture and foreign faces, this was clearly afunctioning city filled with people going about their daily lives. Vendors called out to potential customers in musical Talfen voices. Children darted between the legs of adults, their laughter echoing off stone walls. Elderly men sat in doorways, smoking pipes and playing games with carved pieces on wooden boards.
"It's incredible," I breathed, pausing to stare at a particularly elaborate carving that covered an entire wall. The design seemed to shift and move in my peripheral vision, though when I looked directly at it, it remained perfectly still. It was so different from the savage wasteland the Empire described in its propaganda that I felt a familiar surge of anger at the lies I'd been fed my entire life. These weren't monsters or primitives. They were people—artists and craftsmen, merchants and scholars, parents and children living their lives in a city that put Imperial architecture to shame.
"Your people are remarkable," I said to Taveth as we paused at an intersection where three streets converged. "The Empire has no idea what it's destroying, does it?"
His grip on my hand tightened almost imperceptibly. "The Empire knows exactly what it destroys," he replied, his voice carrying a bitter edge. "It simply doesn't care. Our people have lived in these mountains for over a thousand years," he said, pride evident in his voice. "Each generation adds to what came before, carving deeper, building higher. The Empire sees only what it wishes to see."
His words were a quiet condemnation, and a familiar shame, hot and sharp, pricked at me. He was right. We saw them as vermin to be scoured from the mountains, never as creators of such staggering beauty. I looked away from the carved walls and at the people we passed.
The Talfen were as formidable as their city. They moved with a predatory grace, their features sharp, their white hair braided with polished stones and what looked like bone. Their gazesfollowed me, heavy and unreadable. A child, no older than five, stopped and pointed, his mother quickly pulling his hand down, her eyes lingering on me with an expression I couldn't decipher. It wasn’t hatred, not exactly. It was colder. The kind of look one gives a dangerous animal, leashed for the moment but no less deadly.
I pressed closer to Taveth, the solid wall of his body a shield. He tugged me onward, his grip a firm anchor in the swirling current of the street. We moved from the wide thoroughfare into a +narrower, winding passage where the sky was a mere ribbon of deep blue far above. The air grew thick with the scent of roasting meat, unfamiliar spices, and something metallic and sharp, like freshly struck rock. The murmur of voices echoed from the stone, a language like flowing water that I couldn't grasp. A forge clanged somewhere in the distance, its rhythmic beat a steady heart for the city.
As we walked through the city, I became increasingly aware of the attention we were drawing. Conversations stopped mid-sentence as we passed, heads turning to follow our progress. Some faces showed simple curiosity—the natural interest of people seeing a stranger in their midst. Others held something harder, more challenging.
A woman about my age stepped directly into our path, her black eyes blazing with unmistakable hostility. She spoke rapidly in Talfen, her tone making her meaning clear even though I couldn't understand the words. Taveth responded in the same language, his voice low and controlled, but I could feel the tension radiating from his body like heat from a forge.
The woman spat on the ground at my feet before stalking away, and I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment and anger.
"What did she say?" I asked.
"Nothing of importance," Taveth replied, but his grip on my hand had become almost painful. "She is... unwise."
"She called me something, didn't she? Something about the Empire."
He was quiet for a long moment, his steps slowing as we approached a market square where dozens of stalls displayed goods I'd never seen before. "She called you an Imperial whore," he said finally. "She said you do not belong here."
The words hit me like a physical blow, not because they were particularly creative insults, but because of the venom behind them. This woman didn't even know me, yet she hated me with an intensity that spoke of deep, personal pain.
"She's lost someone," I said quietly. It wasn't a question.
"Her mate and two children. Taken in a raid three years ago. She has... strong feelings about the Empire and those who serve it."
I thought about that as we entered the market square, acutely aware of how I must appear to these people. My clothes, though travel-worn, were clearly of Imperial cut. My skin, although dark from the sun, was a warmer hue than the cooler hue of the Talfen. Everything about me marked me as the enemy, a representative of the force that had brought them nothing but suffering for generations.
For the first time, I truly understood what Tarshi must have felt every day in the capital. The weight of carrying an entire people's hatred simply because of what you were born as, where you came from, who had shaped your world before you were old enough to choose differently. No wonder he'd been so angry, so quick to lash out. No wonder he'd found comfort in violence when words failed to bridge the gap between what people saw and who he actually was.
The market stalls were a revelation in themselves. Vendors sold jewellery made from some kind of dark, iridescent stone that seemed to hold light within its depths. Textiles woven with metallic threads created patterns that shifted and changed as thefabric moved. Preserved foods gave off spices I couldn't identify, their scents both foreign and oddly appealing. There were books written in scripts I'd never seen, their pages made from some material that wasn't quite paper but felt substantial beneath my fingers when a vendor encouraged me to touch.
The vendor watched me, his expression unreadable, and I felt a fresh wave of shame. I was a tourist in their tragedy, a spectator to a culture my people were systematically erasing. Taveth’s hand tightened on mine, not with the painful pressure from before, but with a firm, guiding pull. He led me away from the stall and through the throng of people.After a few more minutes of weaving through the crowds, I noticed they began to thin out, as did the buildings. I looked up, no longer needing to concentrate on not bumping into people and then stopped still in the middle of the street, my attention caught by a massive structure rising from the mountainside ahead of us. Even from several streets away, it dominated the landscape temple carved directly from the living rock, its black stone gleaming like obsidian in the afternoon light. Towering columns supported a facade that must have been hundreds of feet tall, their surfaces covered in the same flowing carvings I'd seen throughout the city but on a scale that dwarfed everything else.
It should have been beautiful. The craftsmanship was obviously extraordinary, the architectural achievement staggering. But something about the temple made my skin crawl, as if the very air around it was charged with a malevolent energy that reached out to touch everyone who drew near.
The people on the street seemed to feel it too. I watched as conversations died when the temple came into view, as pedestrians unconsciously altered their paths to stay as far from it as possible. Even the children stopped playing, their voices falling silent as they hurried past with downcast eyes.
"What is that place?" I asked, unable to keep the unease from my voice.
"The Sanctum of Whispers," Taveth replied, and I noticed that his own voice had taken on a strange, distant quality. His pale eyes were fixed on the temple with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. "Where the shadow-touched come to learn their power. Where they come to..." He trailed off, his lips moving silently as if he were having a conversation with someone I couldn't see.
"Taveth?" I tugged on his hand, trying to draw his attention back to me. "Are you all right?"
He blinked, seeming to return to himself, but the change in him was immediate and alarming. His entire body had gone rigid, his breathing shallow and rapid. The hand holding mine was trembling, and when he looked at me, his eyes held a wild, almost feral quality that made my stomach clench with fear.
