Ashtium: City of Sun

ENOCH

The empirical advisor, who stands in my father’s place, finishes beating the slaves as they hammer away at the streets of white marble. The old stainless stone must be flattened until it’s suitable to walk on by pedestrians.

There are hundreds of the giant boulders that have yet to be broken down and sanded down flat. The rocks were mined centuries ago when our empire was first structured; it was originally built to shield us from the desert dunes outside. Our city was still lit by flame back then -- as many distant cities are now. Since those days, we have advanced. Not far socially at all, but enough to find someone with the brains to create our false sense of light in here.

No other kingdom holds such great light as we. Outsiders refer to our capital as the city of the sun, but we know it as Ashtium.

Mother approaches me. Today her hair hangs low in ringlets of shining black. Her skin is a beautiful pale, a sharp contrast from my olive tone I earned after standing outside watching over our construction plans. The empress does not venture outside the palace as often as I.

With father away, always “visiting” other kingdoms, she is in charge of governing our city and overseeing domestic affairs. Mainly, that involves answering the questions of our people and making sure my father’s plans for our city are followed.

It is unusual to see her descend the giant marble staircase leading down to our city streets where I work with Urdmin, father’s advisor.

“Good morning, Enoch. Urdmin,” Mother greets politely.

Urdmin slings his whip in its holster as he mounts a newly imported stead. The animal was one of many brought from a kingdom to the west that my father’s soldiers recently pillaged. It’s a brown warhorse built for battle.

It was not raised for the elderly man who trains it to walk our streets with the sharp nudge of his heeled boot.

“Good morning, mother. What news have you brought?”

Urdmin dismounts his horse landing heavily between us. The act is deeply disrespectful. We are the royal family, and he, nothing but a sly rich man my father plucked off from the wealthier of our population here. If the advisor were to have stepped so close to my father, his head would have been sliced open by now.

I have my father’s height and stamina, but those are the only two things I am grateful we have in common. I am lucky to be born in the safety of our city’s haven, but I refuse to let my family’s cruelty continue.

Mother takes the whip from Urdmin without answering me and paces down the line of slaves chipping away at the marble rocks. Their hammers clink loudly, drawing the attention of aggravated market vendors lining the streets they are working on.

They would be spitting on the slaves and cursing them, Urdmin too. However, with mother and myself present, their acts of displeasure are reduced to glares as they whisper words to one another with their sharp tongues.

The slaves are chained together with metal cuffs in one long line. Most of them are prisoners or peasants who couldn’t afford to pay taxes to our family. Both are considered equal scum. Even I must pay taxes to my family. I do not work in the palace, but outside it, as an architect.

It is the only reason I willingly stand out here with Urdmin and watch as the slaves go away at constructing my planned-out road.

“You should not strike them. They are already tortured enough. It could be you there one day,” I tell the old man.

Urdmin pats me on the back hard. “You speak of yourself, lad! You should be at war with your father now -- not hiding here like a little man lost in your sketches and books. That is a far greater crime than any I know!”

I flinch watching mother whip a middle-aged woman at the further end of the line. She returns after the slave gets back on their feet and continues to work after her three lashings. I’m ashamed to say I have struck slaves, but never with the whip. A sword is built to kill and that is all I have done, put an end to their misery. Mother only hits them if she is in a foul mood which usually is when the emporer’s travels are extended.

She hands me the whip, not dripping a bead of sweat. Her hands are not calloused like mine and Urdmin’s are. She does not whip often. The device looks unnatural in her soft hands. Her warm brown eyes find Urdmin’s before mine.

He scratches his neck looking at me from the corner of his eye.

Father has been gone for over three weeks now. I know Urdmin is visiting my mother in the hours of the night, but it is not my place to speak of such things. Father only took mother as his wife to ease some doubts about his coming to power. Mother has always been a sickly woman, both in body and mind. She is no angel herself, despite her looks.

I would not be surprised if the emperor has physically attacked her before with her sneered words and wit against his behavior. He is not home often, so I cannot blame mother for seeking comfort in others. I will keep her secret even though I am against it. I know she is still in love with him and I suppose I will never understand why. That’s the way things have always been. I do not truly know if my father is as aggressive as I suspect so I try to keep my mind open, but only by a crack.

Even if she loves him, one thing has always been for certain. The very thing that has driven mother to stoop to his level and hurt such defenseless people...

She takes my arm, pulling me out of my thoughts. We walk down the line of workers together. “Your father is returning tomorrow. Please go meet up with him. It would put my mind at ease knowing he’s coming from where he claims to be.”

“Of course,” I smile, happy for the chance to escape these walls. And her, Urdmin included, even if just for a short time.

It’s not the first time I’ve been asked to check up on the emperor though. He certainly isn’t a fan of me leaving the city to do such a thing either, but the less she knows the better.

Urdmin guides his horse to my side. “You should leave now.”

“Now? I need to pack rations –”

“No time for that. On the horse you go!” Urdmin commands while stepping back near my mother.

I scoff and jump up. It is true I have memorized the geography of the desert about twenty miles out surrounding our domed city. I’ve been traveling in it alone since I could walk. My father probably ordered me to and hoped I’d never return, but I learned to backtrack. I also picked up a few tricks such as leaving markers behind. All I need is a torch and my brain, assuming I am only going on a day trip.

I’ve never left longer.

Mother is too afraid to count on me meeting up with father further out. With my maps though it’d be a piece of cake. Nevertheless, I won’t complain.

I could use some time away from this all. The darkness outside is sort of comforting in my solitude. There’s less to worry about out there. Well, really, there’s only one thing to worry about.

I’ve lived in the light all my life and heard the horrors of travelers who have gotten lost in the black desert. Only foreigners get lost though. Our kingdom is well educated and knowledgeable about the harsh environment surrounding our city. Children are taught about the geography of our land and most of them would be able to find their way back alone if they ventured a few miles out. Our city emits light anyway. Most who come do not wish to leave. And most inside, unlike me, never dream of leaving the comfortable shelter our empire provides.

However, most people are not in the royal family. They do not know what really goes on to keep our city up and running.

I don’t even know how our city runs on false light. I doubt my tyrant father ever plans on sharing it with anyone. I doubt if he even knows for sure himself. The light existed long before he took over.

I urge Urdmin’s warhorse forward.

“I will be back in the evening,” I chide.

Mother hands me a lantern from Urdmin. It’s a special spherical lantern said to never have gone out, but on my travels, I have seen the flame die. I simply re-light it with a match. Matches are more beneficial. I make them myself with my own secret chemical mixtures.

I may be an architect, but I am also a chemist and an artist among other things. It is only because of the family I was born into that I gained such “talents” as mother would call them.

“Be careful!”

“Do be careful!” Urdmin echoes after cracking his whip on a nearby slave.

My blood boils at the sound of the slave crying out. Soon, things will change though. I will drive a sword through the heart of the same man who marvels over their misery and my own.