Ascension: A Solevian Folktale by Rubethyst | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

Chapter 14

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XIV

Blood in These Walls



Rafael sat at his desk- just as covered in papers as it was the day he took it over from his wife. It really never stops. He wondered if this would be his hemlock- if he would join the soil not at the hands of some bandit- or that bird- but buried beneath mountains of meaningless drivel and life changing aspirations; all penned in ink. 

 

He hadn’t slept right in weeks. Maybe somewhere in these galaxies of text hid the commandments to rest he had forgotten when he was branded with that terrible word: Regent.

 

It was dark here. In this room. That was comfort- somehow. It was so damned bright everywhere now. It seemed the sun never set in his kingdom- but the flicker of candlelight was the only companion embracing him here.

 

Rafael was miserable. His neck ached- his body was drained- his mind felt less like his every time he caught a glimpse of those dark, telling bags scraping beneath his eyes.

 

Maybe this could be his hemlock. Maybe if he wanted rest-





A knock at the door behind him. Rafael groaned, and turned around in his seat.

 

“I told you not to BOTHER ME in here-!”

 

The doorknob turned, and the door clicked open. Rafael squinted, his eyes adjusted to the pouring light to identify the blurry silhouette hailing it in. It was a boy.

 

“Alexander?” Asked Rafael.

 

“Your Majesty.” Alexander returned. “I’m sorry to bother you.”

 

“It’s alright-” He sighed. “Genevieve sent you?”

 

“I sent me.”

 

Alexander stepped inside. He didn’t bow. He’d never forgotten to do that before.

 

“I want to speak with you.” Alexander explained. “But if you’d rather I leave, I will.”

 

“And if you will?”

 

“Then I will not speak again.”

 

Rafael paused.

 

“Then speak. I ought to lock that door- but you’ve made it to me. What say you?”

 

Alexander closed the door behind him, and locked it. The light banished- two were alone with the candle.





“It’s apparent to the court that the crown weighs heavier on you of late. It’s of concern that I come to you- I fear no one else would.”

 

“You fear that you will become me.” Rafael smiled. “And you will. You wish to avoid misery, suitor?”

 

“I have strived to become you.” Alexander shook his head. “Been molded to your shape. The crown- It is my shape. My substance.”

 

“...Do you feel present, Alexander?”

 

“I am here.”

 

“Are you real, Alexander? Do I speak with flesh or with clay?”

 

Alexander did not respond.

 

“...But I am clay.” Rafael reassured him. “I would warn you, Midas, the crown does not make flesh- it will not make you more real.”

 

“It completes the mold.”

 

Rafael frowned, choosing his words carefully.

 

“Marrying my daughter will not complete you, Alexander. Marrying her mother did not complete me.”

 

“Then are we bloodless?” Asked Alexander. “Does nothing flow in our clay? No- you are burdened by responsibility. It dirties your skin. You are radiant. You are beautiful- but unfortunate! Tell me so!”

 

“Tell you so, that you may be.” Rafael shook his head. “We are men.”

 

Alexander looked confused.

 

“We are men.” He repeated. “Clay for the flesh of the queen. Woman is not a lifebringer- but a potter. We complete her.”

 

Rafael paused, and chuckled.

 

“You know, we once owned the world- as she does now?”

 

“Lyveria was founded under a Queenship.” Alexander argued.

 

Rafael shook his head. “Before Lyveria. When Solevi was one- when human was a race- us. Magic was a supplement to might- to hunting- and our strength made us higher. You see it still, in the Elves.”

 

“What changed?”

 

“Water.” He said. “Water tests all- demands constant exertion just to be mobile. It is an equalizer, in that way. Magic stops being a supplement, and becomes the new sword and spear. A patience- a tolerance for pain and trial- will lift you beneath the waves. Features that woman bear our superior.”

 

“Is it that simple?” Alexander seemed almost doubtful.

 

“It is not responsibility that burdens me, Alexander.” Rafael answered. “It is opportunity.”

 

Alexander squinted at the King. “...Opportunity for what?”

 

“Don’t look at me that way.” Rafael frowned. “Opportunity to provide- to uplift and protect my people at once, in a way that only a leader can. I am, for the first time in my life, a leader- and I was not prepared. I hold in my breast the shield to deflect from calamity.”

 

Alexander stared straight through Rafael. “...Is it opportunity that festers in Clearbrooke?”

 

“You went to the forest.”

 

“Your Majesty, please-” Alexander trembled. “Is Heaven calamity? Did Rey Za-Hel command the razing?”

 

Rafael gave Alexander a knowing look. “You went to the forest.”

 

“He is capable of deceit- a seat of suspicion does not absolve that suspicion! He could know where this is leading- know that by leading to him, it may lead to you!”

 

“Stop that, Midas!” Rafael stood up from his seat. “Do not ignore blatancies for my sake! For yours! Have you so little faith?”

 

Rafael’s expression soured. “Rey Za-Hel is a warmonger- but no one’s fool. He knows the difference between advantage and desperation- the advantage is leaving him. He faces unspeakable consequence- even if he is absolved.”

 

Alexander shivered, incapable of forcing out the words in his throat. Rafael spoke for them both.

 

“We are threatened by venoms that would rot our planet for centuries- easy answers will set you to the viper’s pit.”

 

“I-... I cannot complete myself with easy answers.” Rafael spoke in a whisper.

 

“Your Majesty- what demons are you expelling!?” Asked Midas.

 

There was fear now, in Rafael’s eyes. Strain in his arms.

 

“Rey Za-Hel is calamity.” Rafael trembled. “A comet that must deflect, or destroy us all. But a comet does not rot- our core is rotting in every stretch of the plane. No where soil harvests is safe, Midas. In the heavens- in our homes and heroes- in our water.”

 

There is evil in these corridors. There is blood in these walls.





Alexander’s heart raced. He dreaded to move his body, that his soul may not follow him.

 

“-But all is not lost.” Rafael assured him. “It is opportunity that burdens me. Beauty that makes me King- opportunity that makes me Regent.”

 

“Am I meant for opportunity?” Alexander trembled.

 

Rafael gave Alexander a pitiful smile.

 

“Sweet boy- come to me.”

 

Alexander hesitated, as Rafael held his arms out to him. But something compelled him to embrace his monarch.

 

“You are beautiful.” Rafael assured him. “You will be made radiant. You will be King. Know we are not lost.”

 

Alone in candlelight, Rafael Carretero comforted his heir- in that room the current did not reach.

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