The third chapter of the Eternal Dance. Do you like the story? What improvements would you suggest? Please review!
Jenna jolted awake, at first forgetting where she was and almost falling over backwards, nearly knocking over the stool she had been sat on. The events of the past few days then came back to her, and she remembered that she was supposed to be researching about Lucaelian culture. Shit, Jenna thought, glancing at the watch still strapped to her right forearm. The hands showed that it was only 08:13, and the Yentarian breathed a sigh of relief. She still had plenty of time to get enough research done if she started now.
She turned around, finding her notes carefully arranged on the desk next to her and the book she had been reading closed, but with a bookmark in the page Jenna had been on. Jenna also noticed that she had been sleeping on her jacket, instead of the book which she had been taking notes from. Clearly someone had seen her and decided to help her but chose to leave the young woman asleep.
She also saw a plate of appetizing looking pastry-cases and a mug of steaming caffeine, and gratefully gobbled the meal. The twenty year old stood up, stretching and preparing for another day of relative inactivity, when a small voice piped up, making her jump.
"So you're awake then?" a slight boy who couldn't have even been five feet tall yet asked, although the question itself was quite redundant. Getting straight to the point, as she didn't want to be interrupted from her investigation any more, she asked: "Were you the one that helped me, and put the food there?"
"Caiellis Noctis Lucerna, at your service," he answered back, sketching a quick bow and smiling shyly at the Yentarian. Jenna instantly fell to her knees – the boy was royalty, and the Lucaelians certainly took their rulers very seriously, so the Yentarian didn't want to show disrespect. She heard Caiellis sigh, and the woman kept her voice level as she said: "I am Jenna Bylae, my lord. I am a researcher from the Yentarian Republic, part of the League of Isak."
"Well then, Jenna, could you please stand up? I'm not used to being above people," Caiellis joked, and the woman nodded her head gratefully and got back to her feet, where she could fully examine the heir in front of her. Despite his relatively jovial manner, there was something wrong with the boy, inner feelings that were concealed by the veneer of false happiness Caiellis currently wore which didn't extend to his large green eyes.
Faded tear tracks that he had clearly tried to rub away were still stark on his face, especially where they met the ominous and clearly magical birthmark of an eight-pointed sun on his cheek, which glowed amethyst where the tears had ran over. His emerald green eyes also showed a large amount of emotional pain, although when he sensed her scrutiny they became guarded. Had he not been royalty, Jenna would have asked him what was wrong and attempted to console him because he was only a child, but she thought it would be a mistake to pry into his problems. To that end, she pretended to not notice his obvious distress, and made to continue with her research.
"If you would please excuse me, my lord, I have carry on with my work. Thank you for making me more comfortable and giving me food," Jenna bowed and turned around, hearing the prince sigh again.
"Stop calling me "my lord". I have done nothing to deserve that title yet," Caiellis spat, and then reigned in the emotion that was inflecting his tone, "Anyway, I may be able to help you with your research. It's not like I have anything else to do."
"I appreciate the offer, my l-... Caiellis, but surely you don't have the time to assist a humble researcher such as myself?" Jenna tried not to offend the prince as she sat back down, but she really didn't need children slowing down her work.
She was already behind as it was, the notes had to be handed in before the start of the Scholaria Magnus's first term, so that the Lucaelians could be accommodated properly. Several other investigators had also been dispatched so the Yentarians could understand more about other cultures – however King Marik Ensis Lucerna had only permitted one into his kingdom. A lot of responsibility rested on her shoulders, and falling asleep had been bad enough.
Cai narrowed his eyes at the rebuttal of his proposal and the fact that Jenna evidently did not want the teenager here, but he was interested to see what she was researching and knew that more likely than not he could help her with it. He supposed that if it came to it, he could force the young woman to have him assist her, but that would be extremely hypocritical of his earlier statement, not to mention incredibly spoilt and petty, which was not the sort of image he wanted to cultivate.
"Were you not listening? I just said that I had nothing else to do. I promise that I will not get in the way," he told her, trying to sound sincere as he felt. It would be good for him to have something to distract his thoughts from the events of earlier, and while some parts of him would rather be reading alone and isolated others wanted to interact with someone who had not lived in the endless night all of their lives.
"I must insist-"
"Please?" the boy pleaded, giving the woman the puppy dog eyes he had often used as a child on Alexander. Jenna sighed. How could she resist something so cute?
"Fine, fine, just stop doing that!" she relented, and Caiellis smirked triumphantly, pulling over another nearby stool and sitting next to the Yentarian. Jenna then explained the research she was undertaking – a full analysis of Lucaelian culture coupled with notes of the common Summonings. Caiellis listened intently when she outlined the inscriptions she had already completed – Jenna had almost finished a brief examination of the culture of the (ironically named) Kingdom of Light, but hadn't even started to record any of the Sancturia creatures that were Summoned due to the distinct lack of material.
The boy flashed a quick smile at that and stood up, quickly striding to the dusty altar in the centre of the library. Jenna had pondered its purpose at first, and came to the conclusion that it would have been used some years ago in delivering lessons to students in the library, but had gone unused for some time.
She cocked an eyebrow when Caiellis closed his eyes and uttered a small incantation, light flowing from his hands and onto the altar. When the magic touched the altar, Jenna nodded her head, impressed as a huge book materialised onto the plinth. The tome was embossed with an intricate cover of entwined gold and silver, and seemed to hold a vast amount of information judging by its thickness.
Caiellis tried to pick it up, but almost succeeded in dropping it – in the past Alexander had repeatedly got it for him, his older brother always making difficult tasks of physical strength look easy. He shot an embarrassed glance over at Jenna, who took the hint and moved over to the boy. Together they moved the book over to the wooden desk, which creaked alarmingly under the tome's weight.
"The Codex Angelica," Caiellis announced, smiling proudly at Jenna's awe at such a large repository of knowledge, "A complete bestiary of every Lucaelian Summoning encountered yet, restricted to royalty and those trusted with the revealing spell."
Concern etched over Jenna's fascinated features for a moment, and she said: "Won't your father be angry at you for this?"
She noted how Caiellis eyes became stony at the mention of King Marik, and the boy replied: "I'm not going to let you look at all of it, several sections are hidden, even from me – that means we won't be able to look at them. Please refrain from the entire first half of the book, as that is where the angels are recorded."
"And if I don't?" Jenna asked, more curious to see how the prince would respond rather than any desire to disobey his wishes. She was already grateful for the vast amount of information this book would surely contain, and respected the Lucaelians' privacy over their angels that they seemed to worship.
"Then I would have to kill you," Caiellis replied evenly, looking her straight in the eyes. The Yentarian couldn't decide whether the boy was joking or not, and resolved to not push her luck. She was glad that she had allowed the prince to help her, as there was no way Jenna would have been able to find that much information in the amount of time she had.
"How does each Summoning get recorded? Obviously the Codex is barely ever looked at, but all the entries are in so much detail," Jenna inquired as she made notes on the Lucaelian wisp and Goldenglow Moth, two of the least powerful Summonings used by those with only minimal magical potential that reminded her of the sprites of her home island.
"Each city has their own copy of the book that the Hierarch has direct access to – they each have a team of observers that reports to them. Due to the enchantments that no-one truly understands any-more on each of the copies, when they are modified so too is the Codex Angelica," the just-teen explained, and Jenna nodded.
After a few seconds of silence, Caiellis got back up and went to fetch another book on Lucaelian culture, grabbing his own paper and a pen and compiling another set of notes for Jenna, his neat and orderly handwriting at odds with her jumbled scrawls. Another two minutes passed, the only sounds the rustling of paper and the scratching of pens, before Caiellis spoke up again.
"Do you have any siblings?" he asked, his mind drawn back to what had made him come to the library in the first place. Jenna snickered, and replied: "Yeah, a little sister. Her name is Annia. Why?"
"Do you ever feel like you are butting in on her privacy, or making big deals out of things that she wants to keep quiet?" Cai mused, blatantly ignoring the question which made Jenna smirk. The prince could be quite stubborn if he wanted to be.
"I didn't really feel that way, but to be honest, I never asked her," Jenna said, and then sniggered, "Maybe you can ask her?"
"What? How?" the boy responded, confusion clouding his features.
"As she was born in the year of 1235, she will be in the same year as you in the Scholaria Magnus," noticing the prince's uncertainty not lifting, and his quizzical expression remaining, she continued: "You know? The new school for 15 to 18 year olds from each faction, set up to provide greater understanding of other cultures and magic itself, and to help form friendships between the teenagers who would one day be the leaders and important figures of their nations? You and your brother will be going there in a few days."
"Wait, 15 to 18? I'm thirteen years old, born in 1237. I don't fit into that age group," Caiellis stated, and then chuckled quietly, "Although I am a prince. Let me guess: my father used his influence to secure a place for me?"
"That's correct," Jenna admitted, noticing Caiellis's sullen demeanour and saying: "He was probably going to tell you soon."
"I suppose," the boy replied, "Is that why-"
Caiellis instantly became quiet as he turned around to get more paper, and Jenna sensed a large change overcome the prince. His eyes became blank and his shoulders slumped, so Jenna also craned her neck to see what was wrong.
"My lord," she said, falling to her knees and not meeting the gaze of the figure about ten metres away from them.
"Miss Bylae," the king responded, nodding in the direction of the researcher, and then looked at his son.
"Caiellis."
.*.*.*.
Kaled staggered through the doorway into his house – the day had been long and tiring, numerous battles in the local bloodsport arena underneath the malevolent red eye of the sun sapping the energy from his bones. The lean fifteen year old only participated in some of the minor battles against weak Unbound creatures, just as a way to gain more income without putting himself in much danger or attracting the attention of the Order of Violence - a lesser spectacle only watched by a small audience in the intermittent periods between events.
He was relatively tall and tanned, with brown eyes and a short scar above his left eye, a childhood wound from his life out on the streets. Kaled was somewhat wiry, as were most young Welkalites without the income to sustain excessive consumption, but as he progressed throughout his teenage years he had become leaner, his active lifestyle facilitating the build up of muscle on his otherwise slender frame. The boy had short, brown hair cropped close to his skull - any longer would cause him to heat up even more in the blazing sunlight - and walked with a slightly limp gait, a testament to a couple of scrapes he had suffered earlier in the day.
His ma had railed against the notion of him fighting in the squalid arenas for the amusement of the filthy at first, but she had relented when the taxes increased to a point even greater than her income and Kaled proved he could easily defeat some of the weakest captured Unbound. The big money was only gained fighting against some greater creatures or other humans, but Kaled's ma had forbidden him from doing that. It was the least he could do after all she had done for him.
He slumped on the ragged but comfortable sofa at the side of the small room that coupled as Kaled's bed, idly flicking through the newspaper as he stretched out his tense form – most of the articles were advertisements that he scanned over without even reading, but one of the pages caught his eye: the Scholaria Magnus, a school for the most powerful young prodigies in each nation of the continent.
He read to the bottom of the page, his intrigue piqued until he read the price that Welkas charged its citizens for the placement there. It was the same price as at least two or three installments (mathematics had never been Kaled's strongest point) of the recently raised taxes – that meant that only the extremely rich – the corrupt - could afford to send their children there, as the rest of the people were barely able to pay the extortionate levies and feed their families at the same time, even those belonging to one of the four dominant Orders of Passion. The fifteen year old snorted; it was sadly extremely typical of the corrupt rulers of Welkas to only offer the places to the adolescents of families that could afford their ridiculous prices - something that he was quite sure wasn't the intention of the Scholaria Magnus administration.
Who was he kidding, anyway? Even if he had the economic backing to make paying for the placement a trivial affair, or if it was based upon other criteria such as actual skill, he certainly wasn't going to become an influential figure in the Empire and was hardly an extraordinary fighter or mage.
It was unusual for his ma to be out at this time, her position as a cleaner for the marketplace districts only lasting until the patrons came to visit, but Kaled supposed that she had gone to pay up on their debt when the newly acquired funds from his victories had been delivered. The aged woman wasn't actually his biological mother, but had taken him in off the streets when he was seven years old, given him a home away from all of the poverty and violence of the slums just as he had been on the brink of death. She had insisted that he go to school, even though him being there put extra economical strain onto her, but when his Summoning had activated he felt it would be a waste and unfair not to use that to get them more money.
The capital of Welkas, Usnaan, had, not too long ago, once been a paradise of freedom ruled over by the famed revolutionary Jarred Redhand, a place of individuality and expression of oneself forged from the ruins of the degenerate Old Empire. That had changed around twenty years ago, when the man's wife and two daughters had been slain in an assassination attempt that was still as mysterious as the day it had been enacted. The Protector of the city then locked himself away from the public, forever residing in his mansion and letting his subordinates take command of the New Empire of Passion.
Without the controlling influence of the Protector restricting their activities, the Orders of Passion went wild, ruling the New Empire as they saw fit and participating in even greater acts of deprivation and greed. For those not part of the Orders and not wealthy, life became hell incarnate as the Orders raised and raised the taxes to gain more and more money to fuel their pursuit of pleasure – ironically becoming the things that the revolution had set out to destroy.
Kaled would love to get away from the degrading Welkas Empire, go to this Scholaria Magnus, but there was absolutely no way him and his ma could amass enough money for that without skipping the taxes – and that would attract the attention of the Order Enforcers, a sadistic bunch of people delighting in causing cruelty to the common public. Besides, that would mean leaving his ma behind, and while Kaled knew that he cost her a substantial amount of money to feed, clothe and send to school, she was becoming old now and it was about time for him to repay the debt to her for taking him in and giving him a new life.
The boy heard the door creak open and then became closed, and Kaled went to see his ma who had entered the kitchen. The old woman looked weary, but quickly hid those emotions when her "son" walked into the small room. She gave him a smile, noticing how he slightly favoured his right leg – he must have suffered a minor wound at the bloodsport pits.
"Hey ma," the teenager greeted her with a hug, careful not to make the smaller woman's arthritis any worse or cause her any pain. Kaled let go of her and she smiled again, taking the boy's appearance in – she was so proud of him, to think he had grown up from the little street urchin into this compassionate and handsome young man. It almost made her regret what she had done in the city today, how she wouldn't see him any more... No! She thought, shoving the selfish ideas from her head, Stop thinking about yourself. You made the right choice. You made the right choice. She repeated in her head like a mantra.
"Ma, are you alright?" Kaled asked, his voice becoming tinted with concern as the elderly woman wiped her eyes, the inner melancholy within them replaced with a sort of kind, compassionate steel when he wrinkled hand revealed them once more.
"Kaled, I just want you to know that whatever happens, I love you. I love you more than anything else in the world," she told him seriously, staring into his brown eyes and grasping onto his forearms, feeling the lean muscle bunching beneath the skin - Kaled was a far cry now from the emaciated street urchin that she had taken in eight years ago, although his life alone in the slums had left several marks on him; both emotional and physical scars had been inflicted upon the youngster.
"I love you too ma." the boy replied, his confusion evident as she placed a piece of paper in his hands, the design of which was more outlandish and extravagant than anything else in the drab but homely house. He brought it up to look, and his eyes widened in surprise as he scanned the words imprinted upon it. A place at the Scholaria Magnus! Kaled could finally get away from Welkas, finally get away from the corruption and the poverty, and a ray of hope lit up his mind. But that meant-
"Ma, no! You haven't paid the taxes for weeks, have you?" Kaled realised in horror, handing the parchment back to the woman. He looked at the clock and realised that it was only a few minutes until the Enforcers that were dispatched to the houses of those who had not paid up would. The Order of Wealth was notorious for the brutality and maliciousness of their Enforcers, and the boy had often heard the screaming of those dragged out of their homes and sent to the bloodsport arenas for the night-time slaughters if they were strong and entertaining enough. If not, they would be tortured by pain-artisans from the Order of Rapture. He shouted in panic: "The Enforcers will be here soon! We have to get away!"
"No," she declared, her voice shaky but filled with a resolute determination. The aged woman had used a trick that she had picked up from one of her more devious accomplices in her earlier years on how to get away with not paying taxes for a protracted period of time, and when she had made the choice that Kaled needed to escape from what Usnaan was being led into she had begun stashing the money away so that there would be enough to secure him a Scholaria Magnus placement.
"So we fight then! I'll use Regata. I won't let them take you!" Kaled yelled, his voice becoming more and more desperate and breaking slightly with emotion as the woman put a calming hand on his shoulder. While his Summoning wasn't the most powerful, far from it, Regata barely required any mana to Summon, and was very fast and efficient. The fact that the fiery elemental was easy to Summon made it easier to interact with, and Regata responded to his rage, letting out a roar in Kaled's mind.
"No, Kaled. This is my choice. My life for your future," she said calmly, leaning up and kissing the boy on the cheek. She had made the decision to save her son from the horrors of life in Usnaan, and she would damn well not let his recklessness spoil that. "They won't hurt you - they can't touch you, not when you have this document. I want you to make a better life for yourself."
"But ma, they'll torture you!" Kaled pleaded, tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. He had always been one for showing his emotions and wearing his heart on his sleeve, the woman reflected - it was one of the things that she loved most about him. "We can fight!"
"And do what exactly? I would be useless in combat, and you would ruin your future," she admonished. It would be hard for Kaled, heck, it was almost impossible for her to face the fact of never seeing her son again, but she was willing to make that sacrifice so that her son could find refuge from the hellish thing that the New Empire of Passion was becoming. She would be lying if she said that she wasn't scared of what was going to happen to her once the malicious Collectors arrived, but that price was nothing to pay when her son's future was at stake. "Anyway, I already have one foot in the grave. Kaled, I want you to have a better life than the one that I could give you."
"No..." the youngster cried, the timbre of his words suffused with an anguish that he had never felt before, not even when he had come to terms with his death of starvation in the streets. I don't want to go ... I don't want to leave her! I want to protect her like she has protected me! His ma moved her hand up, brushing the crystalline liquid from his cheeks as she spoke with a strength not belied by her frail frame, "Listen to me, Kaled. I have lived a long life - a good life - whilst you have so many years yet to live. You have given me a reason for this life Kaled, and my only regret is that I couldn't take in more children like you. I won't let you stay in this depraved empire any longer. The Scholaria Magnus placement only lasts one year, but at the end of it I want you to get as far away from Welkas as possible. You are the most precious thing in the entire world to me, and you have to understand that this fate is one I have chosen for myself."
"How touching!" a rasping voice cackled, and both humans spun around to find a spiked, crimson red creature perched on the open window, cocking its head to one side as it regarded them with blue eyes shining with a sadistic mirth borne of cruel malevolence. Its voice was like the shrill scraping of jagged blades abrading over one another, and it shrieked "Time to pay, time to pay, time to pay!"
As he pulled away from his ma, Kaled let his anger pulse through him, his rage at the injustice of the Empire and the thought of his loving ma being captured and hurt taking physical form as flames burst into light around his clenched fists. The devil giggled maniacally at the sight of the magic and scampered away in concert with a loud bang resounded that out through the house and was accompanied by the splintering of rotting wood.
Kaled's heart started to pound and adrenaline rushed through his veins as the door was kicked open, and two imposing figures strode in.
The first was a large man clad in unadorned black clothing that covered the entirety of his body, with a matching ebony helm to boot. He held a barbed whip coiled in one hand and two pairs of handcuffs in the other. It was clear from his tall and broad stature that he was the one who had broken open the door, Then the second man pounced in, laughing madly when he saw the two terrified residents of the house. He was mostly bare fleshed, with a loincloth covering his genitals and chains wrapped around his emaciated upper body that flailed like writhing snakes with every movement. The devil sat on his shoulder, grinning maliciously and chittering in dark amusement to itself.
He wore a ragged mask of cloth that twisted his face into a smile, and his right hand was covered in a piece of equipment adorned with slicing blades and spikes. He cackled insanely like his Summoning, running the blades down his face and bare chest whilst shuddering in the bliss of the pain. He locked eyes with Kaled and licked his lips, a gesture that repulsed the teenager. Kaled stood protectively in front of his ma, the Red mana sheathing his hands causing the temperature of the already uncomfortably warm room to rise even further.
"Elsa Denith, you have failed to pay the last two deposits needed by the Empire of Welkas," the voice of the first Enforcer rang out, a monotonous drone bereft of any emotion other than dark malice, "Suffer the consequences."
The second Enforcer moved towards Kaled, who yelled in rage and Summoned Regata, the blazing fire-cat slamming into the deranged human and knocking him into the walls, singeing his flesh and biting into his shoulder, the fiery teeth ripping through tanned skin and scraping on the bone. The devil was flung into the air, regaining its footing. It whimpered and crawled away from the violence, as the first Enforcer's whip cracked out, wrapping around Kaled and yanking him closer as the barbs on it that were intended to hurt and entangle but not cause much bodily harm cut into the boy.
Kaled thrashed, but the entangling thorns dipped in some sort of agonising toxins ripped into his skin from where it was twisted around his bare arm and trapped in the shirt around waist restricted his movements and sent spikes of pain rushing throughout his nervous system.
"Wait!" cried Elsa, pulling out the document and thrusting it at the taller man, his compatriot still writhing in the gnashing jaws of the burning elemental, her voice filled with empathetic pain at seeing her son harmed, "Stop! He is going to be a student of Scholaria Magnus, a representative of the New Empire. You can't hurt him!"
The Enforcer calmly checked the identification code on the bottom, and, satisfied it was authentic, pulled out a syringe from his belt and injected Kaled in the shoulder with the long needle. The numbing agent acted immediately, blocking the mana passageways and making the boy stagger as the whip uncoiled from him in a spray of blood. Regata let out a roar of fury as it was dragged back into Kaled, the boy unable to sustain the Summoning as he slipped further and further into unconsciousness. The fire-cat tore out a huge chunk of meat out of the freak's shoulder as it was pulled away, who bounded forwards and kicked the teetering Kaled in the stomach, hard.
The boy barely felt the pain as he was knocked to the floor with a resounding impact that seemed miles distant – he couldn't move, the drug was trying to force him into unconsciousness but he fought it with every inch of his willpower. He had to help his ma! He had to help her! Come on, move! Move! Please ... please MOVE! Dark spots and curling streaks like blotches of ink filled his vision as he screamed and tried to propel himself forwards into the man that towered over the woman who had taken him in and saved his life - and was now wanting to sacrifice her own to secure him a better future. But his body refused to act in accordance with his voice, and his ma was soon obscured by the hideous visage of the psychopath that Regata had almost torn in half.
Blood dripped onto his face, a numb sensation as the man opened his mouth in a jagged mixture of a sneer and a malicious grin. Kaled screamed at him in anger that was slowly receding from his anesthetized limbs but still coursed through his mind like the winding path of a bubbling molten river, but all that came out was a sort of gurgling cry. Even the tears on his face and streaming down his cheeks could not register on his desensitised nerves, and the Enforcer bared teeth filed to a point at him.
The black-clad Enforcer punched his colleague in the face, removing him from Kaled's field of increasingly blurring vision, shouting: "Do not touch the boy! He is now a representative of the Empire," the second Enforcer made an exaggeratedly maudlin pouting face, completely oblivious to the wounds in his shoulder, and the other one said, "The woman, however..."
As Kaled's vision faded, consumed by the roiling blackness, the last thing he saw the freak giggle and move towards his ma, who stood up straight, defiant and proud and made ready to meet her fate.
This is it then, Elsa thought. At least Kaled can't watch. Goodbye, son. Make something of yourself with this opportunity, with this new life that I had failed to give you before now. My only regret is that I cannot see you grow older and mature even more. I love you, Kaled. I will be watching over you from the oases of the sky forever more, until it will be your time to ascend in many, many years to come.
.*.*.*.
King Marik strode quickly towards the library, his mind playing over Alexander's words in his head. Maybe he had been too harsh on Caiellis, but the boy needed to realise that if he became king, failure would not just have a negative impact upon himself, but the entire kingdom. Caiellis had always reminded Marik more of Emili simply because of his appearance, whereas Alex was physically more like himself. However, his youngest son had undoubtedly inherited much of his father's quiet personality, while his eldest was more extroverted like his late wife.
Lost in his thoughts, the king almost didn't realise when he reached the entrance to the library. He took a deep breath: ruling the kingdom of Lucael was one thing, but he found it infinitely harder to interact with his own children, especially after nine years of not doing it. They were no longer little boys now (although to be fair that could be debated in the case of his second son), but teenagers. He supposed that he had endured the wrath of his eldest, but that had been more about listening to him.
Talking to Caiellis would require him to take the initiative, if what Alexander said was true –and Marik had no cause to doubt his eldest son, as the boy had basically raised his younger brother (although with the Capitalia Lux Light-bearers) as they went from safe-house to safe-house, and then eventually went to stay in the palace once it had been deemed safe.
He walked into the library, and saw his son conversing with the Yentarian researcher – Jenna Bylae, if her recalled her name correctly – laughing and chatting happily. It seemed paradoxical to the king that his son was here talking openly with a complete stranger from another nation while he hid things from his own family. Caiellis turned around to get more paper, and Marik felt a pang of regret as his son's casual demeanour instantly transformed into one of cautious quiet when he caught sight of his father.
Jenna spun around and instantly dropped to her knees, which made Marik smirk, although he soon hid it under Caiellis's blank stare.
"My lord," she said, and the king replied: "Miss Bylae. Caiellis."
The boy said nothing and regarded his father coldly – his armour was battle damaged, which was nothing new, but there were new scorch marks there. Just what had Alexander done? Caiellis certainly appreciated his brother's protectiveness and nurturing qualities, but sometimes he wished the older boy would just leave him alone and not make every one of Cai's problems one of his. Although he tried to appear blank-eyed (it was the best way of getting his family to go away), Caiellis couldn't quite keep an accusatory glint out of his green eyes as he related the fact that Alex had attacked their father with the probably counter-attack of the king.
Marik picked up on that instantly, regretting his haste to speak to his youngest and not changing his clothes on the way. The boy was quite observant, another trait that he had inherited from both his father and his mother. The forty year old then said, "My apologies, Miss Bylae, but me and my son need to talk. Caiellis, will you join me for a walk?"
Knowing that the request wasn't one at all, the boy slid off his seat and muttered an invocation, the book in front of the two disappearing into particles of golden light. Marik realised with a jolt that they had been looking at the Codex Angelica, although he doubted that his son was stupid enough to allow Jenna to look at anything classified – anyway, Caiellis wouldn't have the full clearance to look at the entire book, so there was that. The boy silently made his way over to the king, not even saying a word of goodbye to the researcher, who sighed and continued on with her work. She had got a good deal of information from that book, so was grateful for the encounter.
Marik paced out of the library, intending to go to the royal sanctum and show his son something there. Caiellis trotted dutifully (if slightly sullenly) at his side, waiting for his father to start the conversation he knew was coming. He was aware that the self-harming was pathetic and utterly unbefitting of what a Lucerna should be like, and was preparing for some sort of censure from his father about it now that the information he would have quite liked to keep to himself had been brought to the fore by his brother. He was annoyed at Alexander, but couldn't really blame the older boy for being concerned and raising the issue with their dad no matter how much Cai would want to. He knew that it was his own fault for this happening now, that he was wasting his dad's time when he should be concentrating on running the kingdom, and not on his second son who couldn't even pass a damn Summoning trial.
He trudged behind the man, wanting more than anything just to be left alone so that he could attempt to pass the test that his First Sisterhood angel had set for him which had been hanging over him the past month (and before that, but during the war there were worse things to be worrying about and the fact that it always exhausted him meant that he hadn't had much chance when they were constantly on the move), to slink away and not be under the scrutiny of his family any more and have all of his failures picked apart and dissected by them. He needed to be able to deal with his lack of success on his own, and was not looking forward to the king's reaction to his latest screw up and the revelation that he had been cutting himself to relieve some of the stress because he was too weak to handle it without that.
He was pathetic, needy. No wonder his dad didn't want to spend time with him.
"I wasn't aware you knew how to access the Codex," Marik voiced, trying to make small talk before he announced the main news.
"Hierarch Tybalt taught me and Alex the spell when we were both attempting out Summonings a few years ago," the boy replied, his soft voice deadpan. Shit. That topic came up far too quickly; Marik had wanted a bit of bonding time with his son before discussing the pressing issue of Caiellis's trial.
"Ah, I see." After a few seconds, he added, "I know that you try extremely hard to pass the test, Caiellis, and I am proud of you for that, but we both know that you need to successfully complete it soon. Which I am confident you will and I am looking forward to seeing your Summoning."
"You certainly sound confident," the boy muttered sarcastically under his breath, and then blinked in surprise. He hadn't meant to actually voice the scornful thoughts. Maybe it was the effect of actually talking to his father for once.
"And why shouldn't I be?" Marik asked, making to put his arm round his son's thin shoulders but stopping when the smaller male shied away from the contact, "You are a determined boy, and you always have been. Besides, every time you do it, the easier it gets."
"And why is that?" Caiellis narrowed his eyes (which were half obscured by his fringe of dark brown hair) at his father, who gave him a bewildered look.
"Because the more you do the test your Summoning has set, the more used to it you become. It is the same test each time."
"No. It is not," Caiellis stated simply, and Marik raised his eyebrows incredulously as his son continued,: "It is a different trial each time. Sometimes I feel like I have almost completed it, sometimes I fail on the first hurdle. Why, is it supposed to be identical each time?"
"Yes," the king, murmured thoughtfully. The forty year old felt slightly guilty for blaming his son's failure to pass his trial solely on his weakness and the fact that Marik had thought that the boy hadn't had the proper incentive to successfully complete the test - which he obviously had, as otherwise there was no way that he would be cutting himself. He had never heard of such a thing occurring before. He would look into it himself – some of the records in the Codex Angelica would speak of the phenomenon, he was sure of it. "So that is why you have found it so difficult to Summon?"
You think? Caiellis thought, ensuring that the sarcasm was kept to himself this time.
"However, I have decided that currently I am incapable of performing my fatherly duties, so I have managed to get a place for you both a the newly built Scholaria Magnus, a school for 15 to 18 year olds, though I was able to get you in. I think it will be a great opportunity for you and your brother," Marik announced proudly, thinking that his son would receive the news gratefully. He thought that Caiellis would leap at the chance to get out of the lonely (what with his brother spending time with his own friends and furthering his own education and Marik busy conducting the recovery of the kingdom) and sometimes mournful palace to explore the world, to be able to interact with people his own age (although all of the students would be older than him Caiellis, which did not concern Marik at all because he knew how intellectually developed his second son was) instead of being cooped up inside and constantly attempting his Summoning trial.
The thirteen year old didn't reply or react in any way to the announcement; he simply continued to walk behind his father before the man halted, turning around and appraising his youngest son.
Annoyed at the lack of response, both vocally and within Caiellis's posture (which hadn't changed), Marik raised his voice: "Well?"
"I am aware," the boy uttered, utterly without emotion, which incensed the man even further. He was the king of a nation that had just gone through a gigantic civil war; he shouldn't have to deal with sulky teenagers and to be quite honest he didn't know how.
"I am trying to be patient with you, Caiellis. Would you prefer it if I shouted at you?" the king questioned, and his son looked him straight in the eyes, annoyance prevalent in those expressive green orbs which were almost concealed by his ridiculous fringe that Marik thought definitely needed cutting.
"I would prefer it if you stopped talking to me, but that's not going to happen, is it?" Cai shot back, and Marik growled. He swung a punch at the small boy, but managed to restrain himself, his mailed fist millimetres from the Black Sun on Caiellis's cheek. To his credit, the boy didn't even flinch, persisting in glaring defiantly at his father. Marik exhaled deeply. This is not how he wanted the father/son moment to go. He was glad that he had enough self-control to not hit the boy, no matter how insolent Caiellis had been – Marik was already close enough to losing his youngest in the conversation, Caiellis's obedience the only thing keeping him at his father's side.
Sometimes being a father could be the most grating and irritating thing in the entire world, but hitting his smaller and more fragile son (or either of them for that matter) over something so petty as teenage defiance would not have been acceptable - and the king was not going to follow his father's example in discipline, although the former king's brutal and heartless methods had undoubtedly worked.
Marik lowered his hand and instead brought Caiellis into a crushing hug, lifting his son off his feet and crying: "Angels deliver me from impertinent children!" That got him a smirk from Cai, which was a victory as far as the king was concerned. Not wanting the intimate moment to end, much to his son's chagrin Marik decided to carry him the rest of the way to the sanctum. Alexander was right – the boy was incredibly light, Marik could lift him with only one arm, which must have been due to a combination of his reluctance to eat and his teenage metabolism. Only the king had admittance to the sanctum, and he noticed how his son's eyes widened in amazement as he was carried into the vault.
Caiellis was awed by the amount of relics on display, he was surprised that his father trusted him enough already to take him down here. He recognised quite a few objects from stories his brother had read to him when he was younger, artefacts of such overwhelming strength that he had dismissed as being myths, although Cai assumed that their powers had been exaggerated by the tales and the historical tomes. Had this happened even a single year earlier, he would have enthusiastically rattled off his recollection of all the names and properties of the relics, but for now he kept silent.
Marik could sense his son's wonder breaking out of the carapace he had constructed for himself – he was positive he had made the right choice doing this. He could visualise Tybalt's prideful smile as he read out some of the pieces of work Caiellis had written in the past.
Despite the fact that both his sons were smart and if Alexander applied himself more to written studies he could also achieve great things, the younger brother was immensely intelligent for his young age, though the older still had more experience. Caiellis's fascination with knowledge and his way of thinking would be a great asset to him in the future – Tybalt had once joked that the boy could have been a Yentarian before Marik told him that it was demeaning to be compared to one of them. He found it quite ironic how the only part of the conversation he paid attention to was the end, and wished he had been less obsessed about the aftermath of the war with Johnias and listened more to his sons' mental progress now it had ended (for now).
He had taken note of what Tristram had told him about their physical training however – Alex was exceptional at hand-to-hand combat and most types of weaponry, whilst Cai couldn't even lift some of the heavier equipment, instead focussing on one-handed sword training. Marik also listened to their magical progression, which Caiellis also excelled in, although both his sons were exceptional mages due to their Lucerna blood. Alexander preferred to blend physical and magical attacks with Aurelia, whereas his little brother had huge amounts of magical energy even without unlocking his own Summoning – he had similar levels of power to many mages with their own Sancturia creatures backing them up. However, this made him far more dependant on his magic that at the moment was still much weaker than his sibling's (as Marik's eldest was older and had access to Aurelia), and reticent to focus on his admittedly severely lacking physicality.
The king thought it was disturbing that he could reel off a list of each of his sons' specialities in combat and warfare, but could barely say anything about either of their personalities.
When the war had finished, the artefacts used in war had been returned to the vault – he was ashamed to say that in his rage he had obliterated the cities allied to his treacherous brother with semi-forbidden relics of the past. Nevertheless, the one he was going to show to his son was powerful, and would hopefully help the lad in both the physical and magical aspects of combat, but not that powerful.
They stopped at the fifteenth alcove and Marik put down Caiellis, who instantly examined the object in front of him. The medium-length and thin sword had a straight blade in a scabbard made from black leather inlaid with silver etchings. The sword had a semi-circular cross-guard of shiny silver, and the pommel surrounded a small crystal.
"The Sword of Glass," Caiellis breathed in wonderment, correctly identifying the blade from just a brief depiction of it in one of the "storybooks" (books that Alexander stole from different libraries (before Cai had been old enough to go on his own and spend the days there) to read to Caiellis, he adapted the historical accounts of them into stories knowing how much his brother didn't like children's books). "Used primarily by Queen Arie in the years 831 to 837, after she had her artisans craft it from glass found in the temple-church of the capital city in the Drenure Kingdom before they were taken over. Said to amplify the magic of the wielder, it made the Queen's tricolour White/Blue/Green mana even more powerful,"
"Very good," Marik nodded proudly, amazed that his son had managed to recall such a comprehensive definition from the wealth of information in his young mind. "I want you to have it. Consider it a father's gift, to show that I do actually love you."
The king smiled lovingly when he heard Caiellis's stifled gasp of amazement and fondly ruffled the boy's brown hair. Wow. I wasn't expecting that. Instead being admonished for being pathetic and cutting myself, something that a prince should not do, dad is giving me a gift? This time, his son did not move away from the contact out of antipathy, but instead he was excited to get out the blade. He moved towards to sword, before turning around, a plea for conformation in his eyes. Marik nodded, and Caiellis said, infusing the words with his gratitude: "Thank you."
He drew the sword from its plinth – the blade was made from a crystal-clear substance that was as sharp and reliable as metal, but far more beautiful and incredibly light - and gave it a few practise swings. It was perfectly balanced for his small frame – Queen Arie was quite a petite woman, although she had reputedly more than made up for that with her boisterous nature. The Sword of Glass was almost weightless, meaning that he could wield it very well - Cai knew that he didn't lack the skill to use swords, but the strength to manipulate them to the best of his ability. This would definitely counteract that.
Caiellis then charged the blade with his magic, and grinned in slightly childish delight when it lit up with white/golden light, bathing the two in a glow. Neither one failed to notice the fact that the edges of the blade were tinted with shadow, which was only natural – the Angel of the Black Sun was made from light and darkness, which had allowed King Xarius to begin his reign of terror. Marik hoped that his son could overcome the fear of the people and prove that it was the man that had been evil, not the angel, but right now he pushed the maudlin thoughts from his mind and revelled in his son's happiness, knowing how rare that it was these days.
He had missed out on a huge amount of his sons' life going to war against his brother. Marik almost regretted sending Alex and Cai away to the Scholaria Magnus, but such an opportunity could not be wasted. The king sighed, knowing that he would have to become strict father again until Caiellis achieved his Summoning, but at least maybe the boy's self-esteem had been restored a bit more now. Besides, being a dad again had stirred a deep rooted sense of something in his heart that he hadn't felt for many years, and he was at the same time happier than he had ever been since the death of Emili but also scared that this emotion which was beginning to break out of the cage he had placed around his feelings of love would be hurt again now that it was coming out of his shell.
Liber Sancturia:
Regathan Firecat: Summoning of Kaled Denith
Rakdos Cackler: Summoning of Enforcer 2