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Green-eyed Shadow Looks at the King

12 C

12 C

Dec 16, 2025

 

After the slithers grew inaudibly distant, I felt all my energy leave. I was hungry, hurt, tired and very cold. Travelling in the wind’s embrace has never been comfortable, but today I experienced a new low. Wanted nothing more than to pass out where I stood.

 

That would only bring forth a sickness. Having just spent weeks in bed, I felt like enough time has been wasted.

 

Subterranean traversing has left me all grimy. Fumbling in near dark, I went towards a passive trickling of water. A rusty pipe was on the verge of bursting. Fixed up my face. Rinsed injuries.

 

Tied the shredded glove around the left hand’s first – the two thumbs atop the clawed finger. Cartilaginous digits were unbelievably flexible, but this did restrict them enough. The arm unhappily flailed to the sides at the wrist and elbow, but didn’t manage to shake the binding off.

 

I slapped it; was punched back. I hated this thing.

 

The fight soon went out of the unfortunate affix. It was exhausted, too. Wrestling a slithering spinal cord hadn’t been easy, and it accomplished far more than me. If not for that, I’d be a one-handed cripple. Or dead.

 

Dark damn, I hated everybody for putting me through this.

 

Wandered outside. The perimeter wall has been rebuilt to align with the modern standards. The grey prefabs, however, had been left to age with dignity. It was not a good look.

 

This felt like stepping back in time. A very bad time. A ruined, not yet reclaimed town.

 

Just like the animal has said, only a handful resided here. I wasn’t shocked, having personally witnessed how expendable even the elite soldiers were. Still, to singlehandedly cripple a town would be an accomplishment. Everyone probably just moved away. This was merely a transitional safe harbour; a point of disinterest between the central Safe Zones and the industry.

 

Or maybe there’s been a good reason to update the fortifications.

 

Either way, Kalanta stretched all the way to the mountains. Their capital city was somewhere out there, too. General Raktkalis ensured all hands were put to good use in their territory. Himself notwithstanding.

 

Their conscientious tightfistedness caused all sorts logistical and bureaucratic nightmares. The common and very active enemy pressured the generals to meet up occasionally and discuss hand holding, for one. Not only because the journey took days, and was arduous.

 

It made my job harder, too. Not only because of that. I dwelled in the central lands primarily, so Kalantan idiosyncrasies were unknown to me. I had a lot to learn.

 

And now was the prime time for skulking. Sigh. No rest for me.

 

Spiritlessly, I headed towards the train terminal. Had to observe the reactive procedures after a sighting. They were still at it. Commotion carried well in the darkness of night.

 

I immediately located a good chunk of the local population standing all armed at the ready. Two whole companies was nothing to scoff at. Perhaps more. It was hard to count at a glance.

 

Slipped into a stairwell of an apartment building. It was decrepit, just like the rest – but most windows sported curtains. Some even had lights. The corridors were swept.

 

Not ideal. I would have preferred a neglected structure to squat in.

 

Twisted the handle of an apartment I presumed to be vacant. The door was locked. Pulled out my tools and the practised one-armed living. Did not enjoy a second of it.

 

The stranger’s home smelled stale. Before even seeing the countless portraits of kids, I could tell this place belonged to an elderly person. I can pass for one of the progenies, if questioned by neighbours. Clutching a bottled naptime, I checked each room just in case. Nothing but dust.

 

Pulled a chair to a window. The whole district was engulfed in an artificial daylight. I could examine the sentinels with ease. Their uniforms – mismatched from person to person, some body plates – missing. Just two enhanced vision goggles that I could see, kept in the protective casing like treasures. No other scanners equipped of any sort.

 

Due to late hour, people were talking in whispers. Through a cracked window, all I caught were barest of crumbs.

 

“… Nothing…”

 

“… A mistake…”

 

“… He swears…”

 

“The ground all fucked up…”

 

“… Anomaly was…”

 

“Clear.”

 

“All clear.”

 

The quick-reaction welcoming committee didn’t stick around. So, it was entirely possible to stay hidden among the transported goods. Especially if the other places were as underequipped.

 

After a restless nap, I snuck out again.

 

Climbed into the station’s annex. Easily. Windows ajar for ventilation. Barely any cameras, and considering the state of soldiers’ equipment, I didn’t think they worked either.

 

Not much to steal in this nest of bureaucracy anyway. Luckily, I was after the papers. Schedules, passes, exceptions, delays, procedures, ledgers. To me, all of that painted the Kalantan world in vivid colours. This little outpost will unlock rest of the kingdom.

 

I have even found out the Raktkalis clan had a residence here. Unsurprising. It was likely the case for every settlement they claimed. Hotel business wasn’t booming, for obvious reasons.

 

Close to dawn, as keys jangle in the yard, I started putting away the mess. I kept the stacks neat, so it didn’t take long. Returned to the apartment to sleep, but every scuff in the stairwell woke me. The house was far too lively than I was used to.

 

As sunset was about to throw down its curtain, I strolled by the residence of Kalantan governors. First pass was devastatingly unproductive. The place was hidden from prying eyes behind a wild forest. And not a single tree was of a fruit-bearing variety!

 

Central cities planted crops on every available surface, be it flat or vertical. Kalanta wasn’t overcrowded, so they could afford this – and yet it looked wrong. This unnecessary; the overgrown excess was offensive. A slight to efficiency, yields and economic validity. Each bite they didn’t grow, they needed to import.

 

I chuckled at this audacity. Craved to indulge in it myself. After all, what’s the point in having riches if not for doing dumb crap like this?

 

Shook myself out of the daydream. Woodland au naturel provided me with ample points of in and out.

 

 

Audranasa
Audranasa

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Green-eyed Shadow Looks at the King
Green-eyed Shadow Looks at the King

723 views1 subscriber

In the ruins of a fractured world, defiance is a death sentence.

Excelling in the fine arts of covert observation, she collects secrets and trades in betrayals. This data broker doesn’t believe in fairness or morality. After all, that’s the only way to survive – and thrive – in a limited human space, constantly besieged by strange fauna.

She’s spent a lifetime running from the powers that be and slipping through the cracks. However, a fateful misstep pulls this furtive shadow into the sights of a man set to inherit the hopeless war. His ascent to the throne is paved with the bodies of those who stood against him – and those who didn’t.

This capricious warlord intends to cut the trespasser’s insolence out with a blade. Slowly and carefully – because death would be far too kind. He wants her taught a lesson. Disfigured. Broken. Owned.

Yet she vanishes into the overcrowded streets.

A hounded prey becomes an umbrage with a vendetta and wages a one-woman war on his reputation. From the darkness, she turns the rising officer's name and affairs into rot. She never lets him forget she’s still out there. Watching.

The nobleman handles it all without faltering. However, the manhunt gradually twists into a slow, burning obsession. The woman’s daring, her rage fascinate him. Consume him. All grudging sentiments warp into respect… and something stronger.

When enemies close in on all sides, he calls upon his shadow with an alluring promise of truce.

Trust is a knife.

And he hands it to her – willingly.

Full story is available at:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DRSX826G
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27 episodes

12 C

12 C

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