Page 71 of City of Secrets and Shadows
“I served on the northern front,” this second soldier said, their voice softer but no less intense. “For years, I never questioned why the Talfen raids seemed to target specific villages, or why they always seemed to know where our patrols would be weakest. Then I intercepted orders from Imperial Command explicitly directing certain villages to be left undefended, despite intelligence of imminent raids.”
The implications were clear — the Empire deliberately sacrificed its own citizens to maintain the narrative of Talfen brutality.
“But the most damning evidence came when I was part of a delegation meant to intercept a Talfen raiding party,” the soldier continued. “We were ordered to reject any attempt at parley, to kill all envoys immediately. When I asked why, my Commander told me that peace was not the objective — that the war itself served the Empire’s purposes.”
“They tell us we fight for survival,” the first soldier said, “but the truth is, we’re the aggressors. Always have been.”
“The Empire doesn't want peace,” the second soldier continued, his voice cracking slightly. “Peace would mean acknowledging the Talfen as people with rights to their ancestral lands. Peace would mean ending the war economy that keepsour nobility wealthy. Peace would mean admitting centuries of lies.”
He left the platform, but the first soldier stepped forward again.
“I stand before you today not seeking absolution — there is none for what I’ve done — but seeking change. When you leave here tonight, know that the blood-soaked frontier is not what the Empire claims. The savagery comes from both sides now, after generations of hatred, but it began with us.”
I felt my fury burn at their words. How many had suffered, marked as lesser because of blood that made us convenient scapegoats for an Empire built on conquest and lies?
Livia must have sensed my tension. Her thumb traced small, soothing circles against my palm, and I found myself leaning slightly toward her, drawing strength from her presence. The simple gesture — hidden from view but profoundly intimate — struck me more deeply than any passionate embrace could have. Here, surrounded by danger and revealed truths, she had chosen to anchor herself to me.
As the soldiers stepped down, Suura took their place.“I speak of personal truth,” she said. “My father was fully Talfen, my mother human. He did not abduct her, as Imperial propaganda would have you believe about such unions. They loved each other, lived peacefully in a frontier settlement until a purity patrol discovered them.” She swallowed hard. “My father was executed on the spot. My mother was imprisoned for ‘race defilement.’ I survived only because a sympathetic guard smuggled me away.” Her black eyes, a legacy of her Talfen blood, scanned the room until her eyes met mine, and I nodded. We had spoken for hours this morning, and she had told me her story, and I had told her mine, though I had left out anything that involved Livia or the others.
“I have since found others with similar stories,” Suura continued. “The violence against mixed families does not come from the Talfen side — it comes from the Empire.”
“Through my work as a healer, I’ve treated both humans and those with Talfen blood. We bleed the same. We suffer the same. We love the same. The differences between us are no greater than those between humans from different provinces, yet the Empire has built an entire system of oppression on these minor variations.”
Heads nodded throughout the room. I felt a surge of fierce pride in these brave souls who dared to speak truth in a city built on lies.
Korden returned to the platform as Suura stepped down. “We’ve heard history’s truth and personal truth. Now we must speak of future truth — the possibility of peace.”
He surveyed the gathered faces. “The Empire will not willingly end this war. The eternal enemy serves too many purposes — justifying military expansion, distracting from domestic problems, providing convenient scapegoats. Peace must come from the people themselves — from humans and Talfen refusing to be enemies any longer.”
“Some among us have established contact with Talfen communities beyond the frontier,” he revealed, causing excited whispers to ripple through the crowd. “We have confirmed what many of us suspected — they too want an end to this conflict. They too have lost too many to senseless violence.”
This revelation struck me deeply. Since arriving in the city barely a month ago, I had felt increasingly isolated from my Talfen heritage, with only painful memories and the scars on my back as reminders of that part of my identity. The thought that there might be peaceful Talfen communities, that there might be a place where both sides of my blood were accepted rather than one condemned, kindled a dangerous hope within me.
“Our task now is threefold,” Korden continued. “First, to spread these truths carefully to those who might listen. Second, to document Imperial atrocities that have been blamed on the Talfen. And third, to build a network of those committed to peace, so that when the moment comes for public action, we stand ready.”
The energy in the room had changed, tension giving way to a cautious but palpable hope. I felt it myself — the dangerous spark of possibility that had drawn me to this gathering in the first place.
“This is not a path for the faint-hearted,” Korden warned. “The Empire will brand us traitors. We risk everything — our freedom, our lives, our families. But we risk these things for a future worth building, where blood determines neither status nor safety.”
Voices around us murmured agreement, some calling out “Truth and peace” softly but fervently.
“Remember what brings us here,” Korden concluded. “Not hatred of the Empire, but love for all people. Not destruction, but the building of something better. Carry these truths carefully, share them wisely, and know you are not alone in this struggle.”
“Truth and peace,” the gathering responded in unison, myself among them. The words felt powerful on my tongue, dangerous and necessary.
As the formal portion of the meeting concluded and people broke into smaller discussion groups, I finally turned to look directly at Livia. Her expression was complicated — shock, anger, and determination all warring for dominance. I felt the same emotions battling inside my own skin, as well as a dark fury that simmered deep inside.
“The things they described — villages sacrificed, massacres staged — even in the arena, slaves would whisper about frontieratrocities,” Livia whispered. “My village, Tarshi, my family… My parents died trying to forge peace with your people. Septimus says that’s why the Imperial soldiers destroyed our home. Our families. He blames the Talfen, but it was never them. My parents believed that. Vengeance became my purpose, but peace was theirs. Maybe I need to remember that.”
“The Empire needs the Talfen to be monsters,” I said. “It justifies everything — the war, the treatment of mixed-bloods, the military expenditures, the restrictions on civilian freedoms.”
Octavia, who had been silent throughout the meeting, finally spoke. “If even half of what we heard tonight is true…”
“It’s all true,” I said, perhaps too sharply. The scars across my back seemed to pulse with remembered pain. “Every lash I’ve endured, every slur thrown at those with mixed blood — it’s all built on these lies.”
Livia’s free hand moved as if to touch my face, then stopped, remembering where we were. “I’m sorry,” she said simply.
“Don’t be. You’re here. That matters.” I squeezed her hand once more before reluctantly releasing it as Korden approached.
