Hero Of Broken History

The summoning circle had taken Thane three weeks to prepare.

Not because the ritual was complex – shadow spirits were among the easier entities to call. But finding one desperate enough to answer? That required research, bribes, and conversations with people who traded in the kind of knowledge that got you burned by the Church.

Now, in a forgotten cellar beneath the Veritas compound, Thane watched smoke rise from offerings that had cost him half his personal treasury. Shadow essence, crystallized darkness from the void between stars, and a vial of liquid midnight that supposedly came from the Shadow King's own realm.

Before that realm had collapsed. Before all the Spirit Kings had vanished in a single night, leaving their subjects scattered and purposeless.

"I call upon the forgotten," Thane intoned, reading from notes he'd memorize and burn after tonight. "I call upon the abandoned. I call upon those who once served the Umbral Throne, now empty. I offer contract, purpose, and power renewed."

The shadows in the room began to move wrong. Not away from the light, but toward it, hungry and seeking. The temperature dropped until his breath came out in clouds that dissolved into the gathering darkness.

Come on. One of you has to be desperate enough.

"I am Thane Veritas," he continued, putting every ounce of desire into the words. "Firstborn of a Great House. I offer not servitude but partnership. Not binding but mutual benefit. Answer me, spirits of shadow. Answer one who needs you as much as you need purpose."

The darkness laughed.

Not a pleasant sound. Like glass breaking in reverse, sharp edges coming together to form something that could cut. The shadows pooled in the center of his circle, rising up into a vaguely humanoid shape.

"Veritas," the shadow spoke, its voice like whispered threats. "That name... we remember that name. Your bloodline stood with the Betrayer. Fought alongside the one who—"

The spirit cut off, form flickering violently.

"The one who what?" Thane leaned forward, careful not to break the circle.

"I... cannot say. The binding remains even with my King gone." The shadow solidified slightly, revealing features that might have been a face if faces were made of smoke and spite. "You smell of desperation, little heir. Desperation and inadequacy. Why should one who served the Umbral Court lower themselves to contract with you?"

Thane had expected this. Spirits were proud, especially those old enough to remember the Spirit Kings. But he'd done his research.

"Because without me, you're nothing," he said flatly. "A remnant clinging to fading power, watching yourself diminish year by year. How long before you're just another wisp in the void? How long before even shadows forget you existed?"

The spirit hissed, form expanding to fill more of the circle. "Insolent—"

"Accurate." Thane pulled out his final offering – a mirror made of polished obsidian. "Look at yourself. Look at what five centuries without a King has made you."

He held up the mirror, and the spirit recoiled. In the obsidian surface, its true state was reflected. Not the imposing shadow it projected, but something threadbare and fading. Edges unraveling, core flickering like a candle in wind.

"I'm not asking you to serve," Thane said, setting down the mirror. "I'm offering you a chance to matter again. To have purpose beyond mere survival. Yes, I'm desperate. Yes, I'm unworthy by the old standards. But I'm here, and I'm willing, and I'm probably the best offer you'll get this century."

The shadow was silent for a long moment. When it spoke again, the arrogance had faded to something almost like hope.

"What do you want, Thane Veritas?"

"Power. Not cultivation – I know spirits can't grant that directly. But shadow magic, concealment, the ability to strike from darkness. I need to become something my father can't ignore. Something my brother can't simply overpower."

"Your brother..." The spirit leaned forward, and Thane felt its attention like cold fingers on his spine. "There is something wrong with your brother. Something that makes my essence recoil. He carries a weight that—"

Again, the abrupt stop. Whatever binding prevented the spirit from speaking of the past was still strong.

"Can you help me or not?"

"I can." The shadow contracted, becoming more solid, more real. "But know this, Thane Veritas. Shadow contracts are not like others. You won't command me like a servant. I will live in your shadow, share your senses, whisper in your darkness. You will have power, but never privacy. You will have strength, but never solitude. Do you accept?"

Thane thought of Avian's impossible advancement. Of his father's dismissive words. Of seventeen years of being exactly what was expected and never what was wanted.

"I accept."

The circle shattered.

Darkness rushed inward like water through a broken dam, but instead of drowning him, it sank into his shadow. The spirit's presence settled against his soul like a cold cloak, foreign but not painful. His shadow on the wall moved half a second after he did, and when he looked at it directly, he could swear it was smiling.

Well, well, a voice whispered in his mind, amused and ancient. What an interesting family you have. So many secrets hiding in plain sight. Shall we see what other shadows we can find, partner?

"What's your name?" Thane asked aloud.

I had a name once. A title bestowed by my King. But that was before the Sundering Night, before the cosmos shook and the Umbral Throne crumbled to nothing. The shadow's presence shifted, almost sad. Call me Whisper. It's as good a name as any for what I've become.

Thane stood, feeling the new weight in his shadow. Not physical, but present nonetheless. When he moved his hand, darkness trailed from his fingers like smoke. When he thought about concealment, the shadows around him deepened, eager to hide him from sight.

It wasn't the raw power Avian wielded. It wasn't advancement or cultivation or anything the traditional metrics would recognize.

But it was something. Something unique. Something that might let him carve his own path instead of forever chasing his brother's shadow.

Speaking of your brother, Whisper murmured, would you like to know what I sense when I look at him? The restrictions prevent me from speaking of the past, but the present... ah, the present is fascinating.

"Tell me everything."

With pleasure, partner. With pleasure.

Knight Commander Cassius Aurelius did not particularly enjoy mornings. Twenty years of military service had taught him that nothing good ever happened before noon – dawn raids, emergency deployments, and assassination attempts all seemed to favor the early hours.

So when Sergeant Chen burst into his office at six in the morning, Cassius was already prepared for aggravation.

"Report better be worth my coffee getting cold, Sergeant."

Chen, a compact woman who'd earned her rank by being utterly unflappable, actually looked excited. That was... concerning.

"Shadow division caught something interesting last night, Commander. Haskins was on surveillance rotation at the Merchantius compound."

"That bloated peacock?" Cassius set down his cup, interest piqued despite himself. "He finally slip up?"

"Better." Chen placed a report on his desk with the satisfaction of someone delivering excellent gossip. "Someone broke into his office yesterday. Professional job – came in through the balcony, picked the locks clean."

"Theft?"

"That's where it gets interesting. Nothing taken. In fact..." Chen's smile turned sharp. "Haskins believes something was left behind."

Cassius read through the report quickly, eyebrows climbing with each paragraph. Professional entry, evidence of document placement, the intruder hiding on ceiling beams when Goldus returned unexpectedly...

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Haskins let them go?"

"Said anyone planting evidence against Goldus was either working our side of the street or playing a game worth watching." Chen shrugged. "His call to make."

Cassius leaned back, mind already working through possibilities. Someone had planted evidence in a suspected smuggler's office. Someone professional enough to almost evade Shadow division detection. Someone with an agenda that aligned with Gold Knight interests...

"We received an anonymous tip this morning," Chen added oh-so-casually. "About Goldus's tax irregularities. Very specific. Very detailed. Almost like someone wanted us to look."

"How convenient." Cassius couldn't help but smile. "And if we happened to find additional evidence during a financial investigation..."

"We'd be obligated to investigate fully. Might even discover connections to larger criminal enterprises. Death magic, for instance."

"Which would give us cause to raid not just Goldus but his associates."

"Terrible how these smuggling rings connect to darker crimes," Chen agreed solemnly.

Cassius stood, energy filling him despite the early hour. This was an opportunity gift-wrapped and delivered to his door. Goldus had been a thorn in the Empire's side for years – too slippery to catch, too connected to pressure. But financial crimes? Those created paper trails. And paper trails led to larger fish.

"Assemble a strike team," he ordered. "Full authority, best investigators. We move this afternoon."

"Size of force?"

"Enough to handle complications. If Goldus is connected to what I think he is..." Cassius smiled, and it wasn't pleasant. "Let's say forty knights. Just in case we stumble onto something requiring immediate action."

"Forty?" Chen blinked. "For a tax investigation?"

"For a tax investigation that might accidentally uncover the largest death mancer ring in the capital." Cassius moved to his armor stand. "Funny how these things snowball."

"And the intruder? Should we investigate who's pulling strings?"

Cassius considered. Someone had orchestrated this beautifully – planted evidence, tipped off authorities, created justification for action the Knights had wanted to take for years. Professional work with an agenda that served the Empire's interests.

"Log it as an anonymous source. No need to look gift horses in the mouth." He paused. "Though do have someone discretely check which noble heirs have been unusually active lately. I have a suspicion about our benefactor."

Chen grinned. "The Veritas boy who's been hunting death mancers?"

"Pure speculation. But if young Lord Avian happened to orchestrate this..." Cassius fastened his sword belt. "Well, it would be rude not to acknowledge such civic-minded behavior."

"By eliminating his enemies?"

"By eliminating the Empire's enemies. The fact that they're also his is merely... efficient."

Cassius had served long enough to recognize the game being played. Someone had moved pieces to create an opportunity. The smart move was to capitalize on it while maintaining plausible deniability. Goldus would fall, the death mancers would be exposed, and the Gold Knights would get credit for uncovering a massive conspiracy.

As for the puppet master behind it all...

Young Lord Avian wants to play politics? Let's see how he handles owing the Gold Knights a favor.

"Send a message to headquarters," Cassius added as Chen prepared to leave. "Tell them we might need Inquisitor support. If we're hitting death mancers, I want divine backup."

"The Church's Inquisition? They'll want to take over—"

"Not if we present it as fait accompli. Raid first, then invite them to clean up." Cassius's smile turned predatory. "Besides, I'm curious to see their reaction to death mancers operating in the capital. Very curious indeed."

Chen departed to organize forces, leaving Cassius alone with his thoughts. The morning had become significantly more interesting. In a few hours, they'd strike at corruption that had festered for years.

All thanks to an anonymous benefactor with excellent timing.

Well played, young lord. Well played indeed.

He began composing mental notes for the after-action report. How fortuitous that their financial investigation had uncovered death mancer connections. How swift the Gold Knights' response to this unexpected threat. How grateful the Empire should be for their vigilance.

Politics was just warfare by other means. And Cassius Aurelius excelled at both.

The late morning sun beat down on the staging area as forty Gold Knights made final preparations. Armor polished to mirror brightness, weapons blessed and ready, faces set with professional determination.

Cassius surveyed his forces with satisfaction. Overkill for tax evasion. Exactly right for what they'd actually find.

"Commander," Lieutenant Hayes approached, a young knight with more enthusiasm than experience. "Scouts report Goldus is at his compound. Seems to be havin' a normal day, sir. No idea what's comin'."

Cassius noted the dropped consonants, the street accent bleeding through attempted formality. Hayes came from the lower districts, earned his knighthood through skill rather than birth. Good. Those were the ones who understood that justice wasn't just for the wealthy.

"Perimeter security?"

"Standard merchant guards. Couple fellows what look meaner than most, but nothin' we can't handle." Hayes caught himself. "That is, nothing beyond our capabilities, sir."

"Your first assessment was fine, Lieutenant. Save the formal speech for nobles who care." Cassius checked his sword one final time. "Remember, we enter as tax investigators. Only escalate if we encounter resistance or discover criminal activity requiring immediate action."

"And if we happen to discover such activity?"

"Then we respond with appropriate force." Cassius's smile was all teeth. "Purely in service to the Empire, of course."

The march through the merchant district drew attention as intended. Forty armored knights moving with purpose sent a clear message – someone had fucked up spectacularly, and consequences were arriving.

Goldus's compound tried to project wealth and stability. High walls, ornate gates, guards in matching uniforms. All of it crumbled like wet paper when Cassius presented his writ.

"Knight Commander Aurelius, on the Emperor's authority. Stand aside."

The guards looked at forty of the Empire's finest warriors and made the only intelligent choice. Gates opened. Weapons stayed sheathed.

Goldus himself appeared within moments, flushed and sweating despite the mild weather. His robes – purple and gold today, because subtlety was for the poor – billowed as he hurried forward.

"Commander! What is the meaning of this intrusion?"

Cassius let silence hang just long enough to be uncomfortable. Then: "Financial irregularities, Lord Merchantius. We're here to examine your records."

"Financial— This is outrageous! I demand—"

"You demand nothing." Cassius stepped forward, and Goldus stepped back. "You comply, or you resist. Choose quickly."

To his credit, Goldus recognized the trap. Resistance meant immediate arrest. Compliance meant they'd find whatever they were really looking for.

"My records are in order," he managed. "You'll find nothing improper."

"Excellent. Then this will be brief."

It was not brief.

Cassius had assigned his best investigators, knights trained to spot discrepancies and follow paper trails. They went through Goldus's office with methodical precision, checking every drawer, every ledger, every possible hiding spot.

It took them exactly forty-three minutes to find the false bottom drawer.

"Commander," Investigator Tam called out, voice carefully neutral. "You should see this."

The evidence was damning. Shipping manifests using coded language. Payment records to known criminal fronts. And letters... letters that made even Cassius's stomach turn.

"Specimen delivery," he read aloud. "Preservation supplies. Neural extract sampling." He looked up at Goldus, who'd gone the color of old cheese. "Care to explain?"

"I don't— Those aren't mine! Someone must have—"

"Planted evidence in your secret compartment?" Cassius let skepticism drip from every word. "How unfortunate."

More searching revealed more connections. Financial records linking to warehouses in the industrial district. Encoded communications mentioning times and locations. A web of corruption that grew with each discovered document.

"Sergeant Chen," Cassius called. "Take fifteen knights. Secure these warehouse locations immediately."

"Sir!"

"Lord Merchantius," Cassius turned back to the sweating merchant. "You're under arrest for financial crimes, suspected smuggling, and conspiracy to commit necromantic terrorism."

"Necromantic— I want my advocate!"

"You'll have one. After we finish investigating the full extent of your crimes." Cassius gestured to his men. "Take him."

As Goldus was dragged away, protesting his innocence and promising dire consequences, Cassius allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. The evidence was overwhelming. Even if some of it was planted, enough was real to ensure conviction.

But more importantly, they now had justification to raid those warehouses. To strike at death mancer operations that had hidden in shadows for too long.

Thank you, young Lord Avian. Your gift is appreciated.

"Commander," Lieutenant Hayes appeared at his elbow. "Scout reports from the warehouses. Definite death magic signatures. They're requestin' immediate backup."

"Send the rest of our force. Full combat protocols." Cassius began walking toward the gate. "And Lieutenant? Send word to the Inquisition. Tell them we've uncovered a major death mancer ring and could use their expertise in... cleansing."

"Think they'll come?"

"Oh yes. They can't resist the chance to burn corruption. Especially corruption this extensive."

As they prepared to move on the warehouses, Cassius considered the broader implications. Someone had orchestrated this perfectly, creating a cascade of justifications that let the Gold Knights strike at enemies they'd watched for years.

In one afternoon, they'd cripple death mancer operations in the capital. The Order would get credit. The Church would get to purge heretics. The Empire would be safer.

And somewhere, a young lord who'd pulled all the strings would have earned himself a very powerful ally.

Politics and warfare indeed. The boy learns fast.

Thunder rumbled overhead, promising a storm. Cassius smiled. Perfect weather for righteous violence.

Time to see what other gifts their anonymous benefactor had left for them to discover.

In the Golden Griffin's penthouse suite, Avian stood at the window watching Gold Knights march through the merchant district like armored justice incarnate. Forty of them, all gleaming metal and purposeful violence.

"That's... more than I expected for tax evasion," Kai observed from beside him.

"The Commander's not stupid," Avian replied. "He knows what he'll find. This is just theater to make it legal."

Behind them, Seren frantically took notes while Leontis composed what he called "The Ballad of Bureaucratic Vengeance." The afternoon had brought more success than they'd dared hope.

But Avian couldn't shake the feeling they'd just made things infinitely more complicated.

Two days until the Elder comes. Now with Gold Knights and probably Inquisitors crawling all over the death mancer sites.

And somewhere across the city, Thane Veritas sat in darkness that moved when he didn't, learning secrets from a shadow that remembered when gods walked the earth.