Forged in lies

The Aftermath

The world above was still screaming. The panic from the festival shooting had not ended. But down in the tunnel, it was silent as a grave.

Caius stared at Captain Valerius’s body. The blood was a dark pool, spreading slowly over the ancient stones. The man’s eyes were open, staring at nothing. The father. The teacher. The monster.

Caius’s hands would not stop shaking.

Guards moved around him. They spoke in low, shocked voices. Some checked Valerius for signs of life. There were none. Others looked at the empty launcher, the cut wire, the crystal sliver on the ground. They put the pieces together. Their captain had tried to kill the Imperatrix. The hero sergeant had stopped him.

It should have felt like victory. It only felt like ashes.

Selene gave orders. Her voice was steady, but Caius heard the tremor underneath. “Secure this tunnel. No one touches anything. This is now a crime scene. Bring the High Justiciar. And… find Kaelen.”

Guards jumped to obey. Their loyalty had shifted in an instant. Now, she was their only command.

She walked to Caius. She stood beside him, looking down at Valerius. She did not touch him. She knew he was in a fragile place.

“Caius,” she said softly. “Look at me.”

He tore his eyes from the body. Her face was pale, but her eyes were clear.

“You did what you had to do,” she said. “He would have killed you. He would have killed me. There was no other way.”

“I know,” Caius whispered. But knowing did not stop the shaking. He had just killed the only link to his past. The man who made him. The memory of the man’s pride in his final words—You learned well—was a poison in his heart.

Mara was gone. She had vanished the moment after she threw the crystal sliver and played the recording. She was a ghost again. Caius doubted he would ever see her. She had done what she came to do.

They were led back up into the light. The contrast was blinding. The palace was in an uproar. Nobles huddled in groups, whispering. Guards ran in every direction. The festival was over. The celebration was dead.

Caius was taken to the infirmary. A medic checked him. He had no wounds. But the medic looked at his eyes, at his shaking hands. “Shock,” the medic said. “You need to rest.”

They put him in a private room. It was not the barracks. It was too quiet. He lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Valerius’s face. He heard the sound of his sword entering the man’s body. A wet, terrible sound.

He must have slept, because the nightmare came.

He was in the tunnel again. But this time, it was Valerius holding the sword. And it was Selene on the ground. Valerius looked at Caius and smiled. “You learned well,” he said, and he plunged the sword into Selene’s heart.

Caius woke with a gasp, sitting straight up in the dark room. He was sweating. His heart was a wild animal in his chest.

The door opened softly. A figure stood there, backlit by the hall light.

It was Selene.

She came in and closed the door. She did not turn on the light. She walked to his bed and sat in the chair beside it. She was still in her festival gown, the purple fabric stained with dirt from the tunnel. She looked exhausted.

“I couldn’t sleep either,” she said.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said. His voice was rough from the nightmare.

“I am the Imperatrix. I can go where I wish.” She sighed. “That is a lie. I have fewer choices than anyone. But tonight, I wished to be here.”

They sat in the dark silence.

“They found Kaelen,” she said after a while. “In a safe house near the river. He fought. He is dead.”

Another death. Another tool of Valerius, broken.

“The court is calling it ‘The Echo Conspiracy,’” she continued. “They are terrified. They are looking for traitors under every rug. Some are calling for your head.”

Caius looked at her. “Are you?”

“Never.” The word was absolute. “The official story is that you infiltrated the plot. That you pretended to lose your memory to get close to Valerius. That you acted under my secret orders to uncover the truth.”

He stared at her. “That’s… not what happened.”

“I know what happened,” she said, her voice firm. “But the truth is messy. It has amnesia and changed loyalties and a guard who fell in love with his target. The empire needs a clean story. A brave story. You will be decorated. Promoted. You will be the symbol of loyalty.”

He felt sick. “I don’t want a promotion. I don’t want to be a symbol.”

“What do you want, Caius?” she asked, and her voice was suddenly very young, very unsure.

He didn’t know. He wanted the nightmares to stop. He wanted to forget the feeling of killing a man he once loved. He wanted to be near her, always, but he knew that was impossible. He was a killer with a fresh coat of paint.

“I want to be free of him,” Caius said finally. “But I don’t think I ever will be.”

Selene leaned forward in her chair. In the dim light, he could see the tracks of tears on her cheeks. She had been crying.

“When I saw him charge at you,” she whispered, “my heart stopped. I thought I would watch you die. After everything. It wasn’t fair.” She wiped her face with her hand. “I am sorry I got you into this.”

“You didn’t. He did. A long time ago.”

“But I asked you to fight. I asked you to be my shadow. That was my choice.”

“And I said yes,” Caius said. He looked at her. “It was the first real choice I ever made. The man with no memory chose to protect you. I don’t regret it.”

A soft sob escaped her lips. She reached out in the dark. Her hand found his. Her fingers were cold, but they held his tightly.

“The Senate will hold an inquiry,” she said, her voice thick with tears. “They will question you. They will ask about your past, about the memory loss. You must stick to the official story. Do you understand? For both our sakes.”

He understood. He had to lie. Again. To everyone. The perfect hero was just another layer of lies.

“I understand,” he said.

She nodded. She did not let go of his hand. They sat like that for a long time, two lost people in the dark, holding on to the only true thing they had found in the wreckage.

Finally, she stood up. She let his hand go. The warmth faded quickly.

“Rest, Caius. The inquiry is in three days. You need your strength.”

She walked to the door. She paused, her hand on the handle.

“When this is over,” she said, not looking back, “we will talk. About the future. About what comes next.”

Then she was gone.

Caius lay back down. The ghost of her touch was on his skin. The memory of Valerius’s dead eyes was in his mind. He was torn in two.

But for the first time, the shaking in his hands had stopped.

---

The next three days were a strange dream. Caius was kept in the private room. It was not a prison, but it felt like one. Guards were posted outside, but they saluted him with deep respect. He was given new clothes. Fine clothes. He ate good food. But he felt like a specimen in a jar.

Visitors came. High officials from the Guard, wanting to hear his “brave tale.” He told the official story. He was a loyal guard who suspected Valerius. He faked the memory loss to investigate. He discovered the plot. He stopped it. He said the words, but they felt hollow.

He asked about Mara. No one had seen her. The Ghost had truly vanished.

On the morning of the inquiry, two guards came for him. They led him to the Chamber of Truth. It was a grand, circular room with a high dome. Senators in red robes sat in tiers, looking down. In the center was a single wooden chair. The accused chair. Or the witness chair. Today, it was for him.

Selene sat on a raised dais at the front of the room. She wore a severe black gown, no crown. She looked like a judge. She did not look at him.

The questioning began. It was long. It was harsh. They asked about his past. He stuck to the story: an orphan, joined the Guard, served with loyalty. They asked about the day of the attack. He told of his fake confusion. They asked about Valerius. He told of his growing suspicions. They asked about the tunnel. He told of the fight.

A stern senator with a grey beard leaned forward. “And is it true, Sergeant, that you developed… personal feelings for the Imperatrix during this investigation?”

The room went very quiet. Caius’s mouth went dry. He looked at Selene. Her eyes were fixed on a point on the wall.

“My only feeling was duty,” Caius said, the lie tasting bitter.

“Yet you were seen with her in private. In the gardens. In the library.”

“I was her close protection. I was never farther than ten feet from her. That is the job.”

The senator did not look convinced. But he moved on.

After hours, it was over. The head senator stood. “The Senate finds the testimony of Sergeant Caius to be credible and brave. The Echo Conspiracy was a cancer, cut out by his hand. We recommend he be honorably discharged from the Guard with the rank of Captain, full pension, and the Star of the Sun, the empire’s highest honor.”

It was a dismissal. A reward. And a way to get him away from the Guard, away from her. They were making him a legend and putting him on a shelf.

Selene spoke for the first time. “The crown accepts the Senate’s recommendation.” Her voice was cold, formal. “Captain Caius, you have served with distinction. You are relieved of your duties, effective immediately.”

He was no longer a guard. He was a civilian. A hero. An outsider.

The guards led him out. As he passed the dais, he dared to look up at her. Her eyes met his for a single, blazing second. In them, he saw not the cold ruler, but the woman from the garden. The woman who had held his hand in the dark. She gave a tiny, almost invisible nod.

Then he was out in the hall. The great doors of the Chamber of Truth closed behind him, sealing his fate.

A man in plain clothes approached him. He was old, with kind eyes. “Captain Caius? I am from the Chamberlain’s office. We have arranged quarters for you in the Heroes’ Wing, while you decide on your… future accommodations. Follow me, please.”

Caius followed. He was led to a different part of the palace. A beautiful, quiet wing with sunlight and paintings. His new room was huge. It had a soft bed, a desk, a view of the mountains. It was a gilded cage.

The man left him alone. Caius stood in the middle of the luxurious room. He had a new title. A new home. A new life.

But he felt more empty than the day he woke up with no memory. Because now he knew what he had lost. He had lost his purpose. He had lost his mentor. And he had lost any chance to be near the woman he loved.

He was free. And he was in prison.