Trouble at the University

It was way past midnight, the even light of the lanterns dim and blue.

Eden had loitered in the library again, skimming through wondrous books about geology, trying to quiet the voices within him. They were resentful voices, had risen the day of his dismissal from the Planning Department.

Eden flipped to the next page, but struggled to focus, the words floating before his eyes. He yawned. It was late, and he should have gone home hours ago. Now it was too late to make the long trip through the city again. It would be easier to hide out in one of the lecture halls again, to sleep on the hard ground in the back, hidden by the benches.

He sighed, feeling slightly guilty. He had not seen Anya in a few days.

Eden left the empty library and quietly walked down the long, deserted halls, trying to avoid the watchmen making their rounds. Even though Professor Dornus had organized a temporary visitation pass for him, not being enrolled was still highly unusual and had previously led to long and painful conversations. He had learned quickly that it was best to avoid the other students and teachers, to hide in the water faculty or the library. Few knew he was here.

Steps echoed in the passage ahead of him, and Eden squeezed himself into the shadows. The footsteps came closer. Eden slipped quietly into a dark classroom and sat down at a bench, touching the smooth stone, feeling for the grooves, the drawings, and the obscene jokes carved by generations of bored students.

A group of people ran through the hallway, followed by another one, their footsteps heavy, their metal armor rattling. Eden froze.

That was not the night guard. Those were soldiers.

"Stop in the name of the law!" someone shouted.

The door to the next room creaked open.

Eden's heart began to pound. Trouble was brewing, and he did not want to get involved; the emperor's indifferent command to arrest students at will was still burned into his memory. He needed a hiding place.

He ducked behind the master's desk—a big, square stone block—and not a moment too soon. The door swung open, and a light shone in. Shadows danced around the room. Eden held his breath, did not dare look.

The soldier moved his lantern around, muttering to himself. Eventually, the door closed again, the light disappearing with it.

But just as Eden was about to relax, he heard a cry.

He strained his ears.

There it was again. It had come from behind him, from beyond the thick windows. He tiptoed over and peeked out. He could not see much; the university courtyard was shrouded in darkness a couple of stories below him.

Suddenly, its lights went bright white—and a ghastly sight presented itself.

Several dozen dwarves and humans—students, judging by their appearance—stood lined up, facing the wall, their hands above their heads, their legs spread, unmoving, some shaking, loose sheets of paper at their feet. Eden thought he recognized one of them from his class, but could not be sure.

Blood was everywhere.

It covered the ground and stained the shirts, the gashes still fresh, red drops falling silently.

Where were the soldiers? Besides the students, the square appeared to be empty.

"Don't move!" The shout rang through the yard, the voice deep, menacing. "Or you won't make it out of here."

Where had that come from?

Then, the shadows shifted, and Eden's insides curdled.

The Black Guard.

A shiver ran down Eden's spine. He had heard the rumors of the brutal elite soldiers, so ferocious and unforgiving that light itself was afraid to shine on them. They were shadowwalkers, traveling in the dark of the city, appearing out of nowhere, disappearing just as mysteriously.

The shadows moved again, and Eden understood. Their uniforms, armor, and even their faces had been covered in a paint so black it absorbed all light. The result was disturbing and disorienting. Shadows moving in unnatural ways.

Safe high above, Eden continued to observe, saw the Black Guard walking up and down the line of students, yelling at them, and, to Eden's horror, beating them.

With every blow, a flash of fresh fear jolted through him. He wanted to look away, but could not.

An imperial officer entered the courtyard, his light armor and helmet glowing blue with ethersteel. Lord General Ashmace.

"Captain Aranor!" the lord general called.

One of the shadows saluted.

"Is that all of them?" Ashmace asked, his eyes narrow, his lips a thin smile.

"Yes, Lord Ashmace."

One of the students briefly turned his head. That was a mistake. He found himself on the ground a moment later, groaning with pain, General Ashmace hovering above him, smiling as he returned his dagger to his belt.

"Get them to the dungeons," Ashmace growled, "and interrogate them. Find the origin of the papers."

"Yes, Lord General."

Shouting, the Black Guard marched the students out of the main gate, Ashmace following behind. Then the lanterns in the courtyard returned to their dim blue shine.

Eden struggled to comprehend the barbarity he had just witnessed. They were only students. And dwarven students at that.

He was about to leave when he noticed the papers still lying in the quiet courtyard. His curiosity piqued, Eden quietly hurried down and picked one up.

Out of love for the freedom of all under the mountains... it began.

The viciousness of the Black Guards, Ashmace, and the arrests suddenly made sense. Eden was holding a copy of the proclamation he had found in Lastadur. The students must have been distributing it.

He skimmed its contents. It looked the same, but for a single difference. Instead of the Maidenhair leaf, this one bore an eleven-pointed star as a signature.

Eden knew he had seen that star before. Where? He searched his memory. And then it came to him. The same star had decorated the forgotten tombs back in Iridur.

What, by Casovan, did that mean?

Voices sounded from one of the hallways off the courtyard, and Eden dropped the paper and ducked into a staircase. A moment later, a handful of hunched-over, tired-looking dwarves entered, carrying small lanterns and buckets.

"They better pay overtime for this," one of them said.

"Hang in there," said another. "Casovan's Day is almost here. Games, parades, and lots of drinks. You'll appreciate the extra teners then."

The first dwarf grunted.

"Look at this mess," said a third. "Well, let's get it over with."

They spread out, some collecting the papers, others scrubbing blood off the walls.

Eden quietly retreated into an empty classroom. Anger and confusion filled his mind. It had been unsettling to sit through the cabinet meeting, more so as he had reflected on it over the following weeks. But watching the brutality of Ashmace and his Black Guard first-hand was another matter entirely.

And then a new fear gripped him.

Until now, the unrest had been contained within the university, with most of the capital ignorant of its existence. What would happen if it spread? If more citizens made their discontent public? Surely the emperor would not allow that; he would fight it with the same ruthless violence Eden had just witnessed.

And they would need a scapegoat. Someone to blame.

With a knot twisting in his stomach, Eden thought he might have an idea who that would be.