Chapter LXV
No Way Out
When Adriaas regained consciousness hours later, she found herself in the moving cage pulled by horsed and escorted by Elkrachet soldiers, her body sore from the recent ordeal. Though the worst of the pain had subsided, the relentless motion exacerbated her discomfort. The mood among her companions, now fellow prisoners, had shifted noticeably. As she assessed their location, a structure appeared on the horizon—a castle.
Constructed from pristine rose-colored quarry stone, bathed in the afternoon sun, the castle stood as a privilege granted only to the closest allies of the empire or its enemies. Around Adriaas, each person coped with their predicament in their own way.
Pemula was tending to Indictur’s wounds.
“Did I pee my pants?” Adriaas felt a certain wetness enveloping her body.
“You’re awake, that’s good,” Vulnic responded, breaking his trance. He had spent the entire journey staring into the distance outside the cage.
Indictur helped Adriaas too rise from the wooden floor of the cage and lay on the metallic bars. “You didn’t wet yourself. It’s healing cream. It should ease some of your pain and reduce swelling, but it won’t heal your broken bones. We tried to immobilize your arm as best we could..”
Adriaas couldn’t help but ask anxiously, “Where are they taking us?”
“To be judged by Empress Sabina—a real treat,” Pemula replied, her voice tinged with grimness.
The news hit Adriaas like a bolt of lightning. She had only heard terrible things about Sabina. The three imperials accompanying her tried to distract themselves by devising an escape plan.
“As soon as they open the doors, we slam them shut. They won’t expect it,” Vulnic proposed , his idea brimming with optimism.
“There will be electric shock measures in place before we can even exit. They won’t risk it,” Pemula interjected, her fear evident.
“You’re thinking of the old days. These furkanos got lucky to catch us. Someone betrayed us and tipped them off about our plans,” Vulnic whispered. “We wouldn’t have caused as much havoc as we did if they knew about out plan and prepared for it. For me, it seems like we ran to an unexpected battalion arriving to Bistonia”
As they neared the end of the procession, with soldiers galloping only meters behind, the situation seemed nearly impossible to overcome.
“We need to enter the castle and confront Sabina. That’s our only chance of survival. She has her own sense of justice,” Indictur reasoned. With each plan being dashed, Adriaas focused her mind on observing and memorizing any signs or clues, pushing aside the pain of her broken bone.
They overheard a conversation between the gatekeeper and another figure as they reached a check point and the procession slowed down.
“The intel was accurate. We caught these traitors off guard, but we still neutralized them,” a woman with an authoritative voice declared. “Notify Empress Sabina of our success so she can pass judgment on these filthy Kapas.”
“We took showers today, you piece of furka. Come here, and I’ll show you who stinks worse,” Vulnic retorted defiantly and loudly, possibly upset with his failed assumption about their capture.
As expected, a different soldier approached the cage and electrocuted him with a small taser, causing Vulnic to convulse. Adriaas and the others watched in horror or averted their gazes, concerned for their own futures. Time after, with Vulnic still unconscious and, as the sun began to hide in the horizon, the procession halted, and the group of riding guards dispersed. A contingent of soldiers approached their cage and subjected them to a jolt of electricity from a distance, shocking even Adriaas in her weakened state, just as Pemula had predicted.
Numb yet aware, Adriaas struggled to walk when they removed her from the mobile cage, inflicting a great deal of pain to both her arm and ribs as they dragged her into the castle.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Walking through a large candle lit hall brought her to a massive, circular throne room, its high ceilings reminiscent of an ancient cathedral. At the center, the woman whom the imperials feared sat on her throne—Empress Sabina, engrossed in other imperial matters. Physically, she appeared older than most, bearing the physical age of seventy, a toll from being born in Sectum.
Extarri aged differently than Homo Synthesicus in Malkuth due to Xtracter injections received upon exile. They lacked the technorganic enhancements of synthesis that allowed humans to become so advanced. In Sectum, the Sephirot only took children too Malkuth if their parents willingly renounced them. Otherwise, the responsibility of their upbring fell on the progenitors.
As a result of being born on that continent, Homo Sapiens aged. In the 122nd century, humans could live up to 140 years in great conditions, and after synthesis, death became a timeless decision. In Adriaas’ world, people lived at their own pace, exploring galaxies or experiencing different paths of the kabbalah, possessing the power to choose when to transition to the next level of existence.
In Imperia, however, it was the opposite. Mortality was fragile, and those in power toyed with its delicate balance, pushing the limits of morality. With their actions, any extarri had prolonged their sentences to where it seemed unlikely they would live to see Malkuth once more. A few of those, accepting Sectum as their true home, cherished their time there. For their children, Aequiteism was a fantasy, and Sabina herself was a product born in exile.
Now, Sabina, the empress, sat upon the Twilight Throne—a seat resembling a cascade of blue ink suspended from the ceiling and reaching the flor symbolizing the night sky. Constructed generations before Adriaas' time, it remained timelessly imposing. Sabina's resolute voice reached the ears of the captives as she finished addressing her last subject before them.
“I will take the land, Omanar. Your debt to me could last a hundred years,” she declared as she stood up from her throne, allowing the group to see her in all her regal presence. “You have one week to pay those Onis, or my guards will come for you. Now, get out of my sight!”
The imperial left on the verge of tears, grateful to be alive. The soldiers then ushered Adriaas and her companions toward the almighty leader of Imperia. Their minds struggled to grasp the unfolding scene.
Adriaas found it difficult to focus, her thoughts scattered and overwhelmed with pain.
“What’s this?” Sabina’s disgusted voice echoed. “Isn’t it time for lunch yet?”
A tall man with dark blond hair whispered something to the empress, eliciting a beaming response from her.
“Apologies for my manners. We’ve been working tirelessly since early morning, fixing Imperia one citizen at a time,” Sabina declared, her energy palpable as she stood and stretched. “So, you attempted to sabotage our processions, which only bring food to the municipalities.”
She paced before them, exhilaration evident in her stride, Adriaas wondered if she was on drugs.
“Who will take responsibility for this attack? Be aware that I will execute one of you for this treason, regardless of the outcome,” the empress inquired with a smile, drawing close to them.
Those words snapped Adriaas from her pain-induced haze as Indictur spoke up.
“It was my idea, Your Majesty. Please, leave my friends out of this.”
“And who might you be, brave sir?” Sabina’s excitement was clear with small jumps, as a kid receiving a wonderful gift.
“He’s nobody. I did it, empress,” Vulnic interjected.
“Well, well, this is an unexpected turn of events, isn’t it, Ditcos?” Sabina turned to her assistant, amused.
“A rather intriguing development, Empress,” Ditcos responded. “What shall we do?”
“I’m not sure. What have we done in similar situations, my faithful servant?”
“Allow us a moment to consult the records, please,” the man requested, his voice tinged with fear.
“Take as much time as you need. I’ll attend to our guests in the meantime. Fetch my tools,” Sabina commanded.
The assistant hurried off as if pursued by death itself.
The empress demeanor hinted at an ulterior motive. Even Adriaas, who had just met her, could sense it. She held their fates in her hands yet it seemed it was all figured out in her mind.
“You know, I admire gentlemen like you, willing to lay down their lives for others,” Sabina remarked, moving closer to their faces. “Such bravery is a rare sight.”
“Please forgive us, Your Highness. We made a mistake,” Pemula pleaded.
“Did I grant you permission to speak, woman!?” Sabina’s voice boomed as she paced towards Pemula, raising a hand a slapping her right cheek with such strength the woman fell into the floor. Unable to use her hands, she broke her nose as she landed on it. “You shall only speak when directly addressed.”
“They were right when they said you were old, but they failed to mention the rancid smell of decay,” Adriaas blurted out impulsively, unable to comprehend why she had said it, defying the sadistic woman with a furious sight.
Her fellow imperials fell silent, stunned by her words, much like herself. In contrast, Sabina turned to her and burst into laughter.
“You’re audacious, furkana,” she locked eyes with Adriaas, leaving Pemula to bleed on the floor. “What’s your name? And remember, lying will not benefit you. As the sovereign of this country, I have access to my people’s information. All I need is a picture of you, and we’ll uncover your true identity within minutes.”
Adriaas had been concealing her name from everyone. Only Gidit knew her last name, and thanks to their advice, the rest of the group knew her as Zaraz. If Sabina was telling the truth, which seemed plausible, not revealing her true identity could lead to dire consequences.
“Adriaas,” the young woman offered her first name, hoping it would suffice.
She could feel the intensity emanating from the empress.
“Are you making me ask?” the warning in Sabina’s voice made Adriaas’s stomach churn.
“Ancaris,” she finally confessed, bracing herself for the consequences.