Ashes of the Sterling Legacy

Chapter 9: The High Wall Escape

The air turns to poison long before your lungs realize they are burning.

Arthur held his breath, the green vapor rolling over the top of the document shelves like an incoming tide. It descended rapidly, the sweet, sickly scent of the paralyzing gas beginning to sting the exposed skin of his face. Behind him in the dark aisle, Kaelen let out a muffled, choked gasp as the cloud enveloped his motionless form, but Arthur was already looking toward the roof.

"I am not dying in a box, Victor," Arthur muttered, his voice muffled behind the iron visor of his helmet.

He looked up at the very top of the granite wall, where a massive, arched stained-glass window depicted the first imperial conquest. The reinforced glass was thick, crossed with heavy lead bars, but it was the only way out of the sealed Ministry.

Arthur planted his feet firmly into the stone floorboards. He abandoned his disguise protocols completely, digging deep into his core to pull every remaining drop of his cosmic energy to the surface. A violent, pale starlight aura exploded from his limbs, the sheer gravitational force of his true style pushing the green fog backward for a brief second. He focused the entire spinning mass of energy directly into his right fist, his knuckles glowing with the intensity of a dying star.

He leaped upward, using the momentum of his cosmic burst to launch himself twenty feet into the air. He slammed his glowing fist directly into the center of the reinforced stained-glass window.

The impact sounded like a lightning strike. The thick lead bars snapped instantly, and the massive window shattered into thousands of colored glass fragments that rained down into the midnight air outside. Arthur tumbled through the gap, throwing his arms over his face as he plunged multiple stories down toward the dark palace rooftops below.

He hit the sloped slate roof of the lower judicial pavilion with a heavy, sliding thud, his silver armor sparking against the stone tiles as he tumbled into a desperate roll to absorb the immense kinetic drop. He caught the edge of a marble gutter with his gloved hands, his legs dangling over a fifty-foot drop before he swung himself up onto a flat maintenance walkway.

Instantly, the grand brass bells of the inner ring began to toll in a frantic, rhythmic pattern, their deep vibrations echoing across the entire capital city.

"Intruder in the records sector," a voice roared from the courtyards below. "The archive window is breached. Raise the magical barriers and seal the sector gates."

Arthur scrambled to his feet, ignoring the sharp pain in his shoulder from the landing. A sudden, violent thunderstorm began to roll over the mountains, open torrents of heavy rain slamming down onto the roofs, instantly washing away the glass dust from his silver breastplate. He used the dark, stormy night sky as a natural cover, sprinting across the wide architectural gaps of the palace complex.

"There he is, on the lower pavilion," an imperial archer screamed from a distant watchtower. "Light the arrows. Do not let him reach the outer wall."

A massive volley of flaming imperial arrows arced through the driving rain, their burning tips hissing loudly as they cut through the darkness. Arthur zig-zagged across the slippery slate tiles, ducking behind stone chimneys and ornamental gargoyles as the fiery projectiles exploded against the roofs around him, spraying hot embers into the wind.

He reached the edge of the inner ring boundary, where the colossal outer ring wall loomed like a black mountain, separating the wealthy lords from the desperate slums below. The wall was a vertical drop of nearly two hundred feet, guarded by jagged iron spikes at the rim.

Arthur did not hesitate. He grabbed a heavy silk banner hanging from the palace balcony, wrapped it tightly around his iron gauntlet, and vaulted over the edge of the massive stone barrier. He scaled down the vertical surface at a terrifying, breakneck pace, sliding down the fabric until it ripped, then dropping from stone ledge to stone ledge using his raw physical agility to catch the narrow handholds.

He dropped the final fifteen feet into the thick, freezing mud of the slum borders, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he sprinted away from the searchlights. He ducked into the maze of leaning wooden shacks, navigating the filthy, familiar alleys until he reached the hidden cellar beneath the ruined tannery.

He burst through the low wooden door, dripping with rainwater and blood, his silver armor dented and scraped from the escape.

Marcus jumped from his straw bedding, his hand instantly flying to the hilt of his short sword before he recognized the shape of the helmet. "Arthur. By the ancestors, you made it out. I heard the inner ring bells from here. The whole city is in a total frenzy."

"I have the treaty, Marcus," Arthur panted, ripping his helmet off and throwing it onto the dirt floor. He reached beneath his silver breastplate, pulling out the leather-bound scroll. It was slightly damp from the storm, but the golden cord and the two official wax seals were completely intact.

"You actually did it," Marcus said, his voice shaking with awe as he hobbled over to the wooden table. "You broke the deepest archive in the empire. Let me see the document."

Arthur sliced the golden cord with his dagger, unrolling the heavy parchment across the rough wooden surface. The single tallow candle flickered violently as the wind from the storm blew through the cracks in the cellar ceiling.

"Look at the bottom signatures," Arthur said, pointing his finger at the dark ink. "The twin suns of the Crown Prince are right next to Victor's lion. The evidence is absolute. If we can get this to the northern clans, Victor's rule will collapse by next week."

Marcus leaned over the parchment, his eyes scanning the dense, legalistic script of the imperial scribes. As his gaze drifted toward the lower addendum clauses, the color completely drained from his face, and his hands began to tremble worse than they had during his execution assembly.

"No," Marcus whispered, his voice cracking as he shook his head in absolute disbelief. "No, this cannot be real. This changes everything, Arthur."

"What is it?" Arthur asked, leaning closer, his brow furrowing as he saw the old captain terror. "What does the addendum say?"

"It is an deployment protocol, Arthur," Marcus gasped, his fingers clutching the edges of the treaty so hard the paper began to crinkle. "Victor didn't just sign a death warrant for your family five years ago. Look at the activation date on the secondary clause. It was stamped by the palace registry just yesterday morning."

"Read it to me, Marcus," Arthur commanded, his voice tightening.

Marcus looked up at the young prince, his eyes wide and completely hollow. "The Crown Prince has already mobilized a hidden army of ten thousand elite vanguard soldiers from the northern border garrisons. They are not waiting for you to show the treaty to the clans, Arthur. They are already on the march."

"Where are they marching?" Arthur demanded.

"Here," Marcus said, a solitary tear rolling down his scarred cheek as he pointed out the window toward the sprawling, crowded slums of the outer ring. "The clause dictates a total purification protocol. They are coming to completely raze the outer ring slums to the ground. Every shack, every alley, every single citizen. They are going to burn everything to ash to ensure that every single piece of evidence regarding the Sterling legacy is erased from existence forever."