Chapter 11: Chapter 10 – Punishment

If there was one thing Raviel was certain of at that moment, it was that Magnus would never let Aster's affront pass. He saw his father drag the gladiator behind him, and Aster stumbled, hampered by his chains. Raviel then rushed to stand in front of his father.

“Wait!”

Magnus stopped in annoyance.

“What do you want?”

"Don't blame him," Raviel begged.

His father pushed him away abruptly to get him out of the way. Raviel would have probably fallen to the ground if Mel hadn't caught him.

"You know the law," Magnus said. “A fleeing slave must be punished.”

“You said it yourself; his escape is my responsibility. If you have to chastise someone, it's not him.”

Magnus stopped and slowly turned to Raviel, who was looking at him calmly and decisively.

“You know what that means, don't you?” He asked.

"Yes," Raviel answered simply.

“No!” Aster exclaimed furiously. “I don't need you! I am perfectly capable of accepting the consequences of my actions.”

Raviel glared at him.

“Shut your mouth! I'm not asking your opinion.”

His icy voice cracked violently in the air, and Aster was frozen in amazement. Raviel turned his grey eyes to his father.

"I will submit to whatever punishment you see fit."

"I won't take it easy because it’s you," Magnus warned him.

“I know.”

Magnus glared at him for a moment, but his son held his gaze unblinkingly.

“Very well. Follow me.”

He glanced briefly at Mel, who was standing slightly behind Raviel.

“Untie him,” Magnus ordered, pointing at Aster.

She nodded, but could hardly contain the anger she felt at the moment. When she wanted to remove the thick iron collar from Aster's throat, he suddenly recoiled.

"I can take responsibility for my actions," he repeated passionately.

If a look could kill, Aster would have probably dropped dead.

“Shut your mouth!” Mel hissed. “Do you want to get him into more trouble?”

Aster turned his head towards Raviel, who had already taken several steps away. He held himself straight, almost too much, and advanced without the slightest hesitation.

“I warned you!” Mel continued, abruptly removing the iron collar.

With that, she rushed after Raviel and Magnus, leaving the necklace on the ground. Aster followed her without thinking, as guilt suddenly gripped his heart.

***

Raviel knelt down and held out his hands to his father. Magnus locked the chains attached to a wooden post around his wrists. The post was deeply sunk in the ground of the garden and made it possible to attach the slaves doomed to be punished. The young man winced slightly as he felt the cold metal bite into his skin.

"Are you sure of your decision?" Magnus asked.

His son nodded without a word. A gust of wind raised a pile of dust and deposited it a few meters away. Raviel shivered as his hair fluttered around his face for a moment. He had to take off his tunic, and only the gods knew how much he hated that. He turned his head and met Mel's gaze. He gave her a reassuring smile. A few steps behind her, Aster showed a defeated face and seemed to want to say something.

“Raviel.”

He turned his head away as Magnus' voice echoed through the air. He inhaled briefly as if that would help him bear what was to come. The whip violently tore his skin. The pain was so sharp it took his breath away. His hands snapped shut on the chains that bound him to the wooden post, and a silent gasp escaped him. The whip cracked again, and he barely suppressed a cry, his jaw clenched.

He only felt the burn on his lacerated back. The whip ruthlessly continued its task, and Raviel quickly stopped counting the blows. The blood streamed over his fair skin, now smearing his loincloth and his legs. It left long reddish traces on the ground as it soaked it. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. The knuckles of his fingers whitened. The pain was unbearable. It locked him in a world apart. The chirping of the birds, the rustling of the leaves… All that now reached him only through a thick fog.

He bit back a scream as the whip traced another bloody line down his back. Then another. Only his chains still kept him kneeling.

Suddenly the beating stopped, but Raviel wasn't really there anymore. A clank of metal sounded as Magnus opened the iron bracelets, and his son collapsed to the floor, in the pool formed by his blood. The young man couldn't make out the words that echoed in his ears.

“Raviel! Raviel!”

Mel knelt down beside him, ignoring the blood that soon stained her clothes. Raviel’s breathing had become imperceptible. He was pale, and his forehead was hot and covered with sweat.

"Rogis!" She screamed.

Raviel might be a featherweight, but she would never be able to carry him alone. Aster suddenly knelt next to her.

“Let me do it.”

Without waiting for an answer, he slipped one arm under Raviel's knees and gently pushed Mel, so he could slip the other behind his back. He stood up, but his movement drew a painful groan from Raviel. Aster tried to ignore the remorse that assailed him. His regrets wouldn't change anything and wouldn't help the young patrician. He followed Mel, who led him inside the villa. She paused briefly when they passed Rogis. He seemed to immediately understand the situation.

"You have to go get Lana!"

Rogis nodded worriedly and immediately turned around.

"Lana?" Aster asked following Mel into the atrium.

"Raviel's sister," she answered succinctly.

She rushed into the bedroom.

“Put him on the bed,” she ordered.

Aster complied, making sure to be as gentle as possible, but Raviel didn't move. He had lost consciousness. Aster took a few steps back… and didn't see Mel's slap coming.

"You selfish fool!" She hissed angrily.

"I'm sorry," he replied.

"I don't care about your excuses."

She inhaled as if to quell the fury that had invaded her.

"Go and ask Nerilla for water and clean cloths."

Aster obeyed without hesitation.

***

Aster sighed softly to try to get rid of his worry. Several hours had already passed, and Raviel had not regained consciousness. Mel had been gone for several minutes, to find Rogis who was returning from Lana's. Aster had briefly been surprised that a slave could go out alone in the city like this. But Mel had told him that Magnus would close his eyes on the matter.

"Despite what he did to his son?" Aster asked.

“If you had been in Raviel's place, you would probably have received a dozen more blows, and you would have spent the night tied up outside.”

She had paused slightly to soak a clean cloth in the water.

“The relationship between Raviel and Magnus is more complex than it seems.”

She had hesitated a moment before adding, while meticulously cleaning the unconscious man's back, shoulders and arms.

“Despite the violence and contempt from Magnus, I think a part of him still respects Raviel’s determination and courage. And for Raviel, despite the fear that his father inspires in him, he has always hoped that Magnus will one day be proud of him.”

She had rinsed the laundry in the copper basin, where the water had taken on a scarlet hue.

“Raviel is not the heir Magnus expected. He doesn't have a Gift, will never become a General, will probably never be able to get married... And…”

A flash of sadness crossed her face, and she left her sentence hanging. Aster was still wondering what she meant. He looked back at Raviel. His back had been ruthlessly lacerated. He had received maybe forty lashes, and each one had left a deep gash. Some had also reached his shoulders or his upper arms, others had put their marks on his hips.

To think he hadn't screamed once… Barely had he emitted a stifled complaint when the whip had struck him more violently. But Aster had seen the pain distort his face. He had seen him clench his teeth in silence. And faced with this observation, Aster couldn't push back the guilt that invaded him at the sight of the torn body. His stomach twisted violently.

Why had Raviel done this? Aster had fled. He had betrayed his trust without hesitation.

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“Why?” He asked in a low voice.

"Because Raviel is like that."

Aster turned to Mel, who had just come back. She walked over to the bed, then brushed a few silver locks from Raviel's forehead to check his temperature.

“He refuses to see anyone suffer. He never let his parents hit anyone in this house. And Magnus accepts because he believes that his son must take responsibility for his decisions. And especially because… the more Raviel intervened, the more docile the slaves of this house became. So that suits Magnus… After all, it doesn't matter who gets punished, as long as the rules are followed.”

She sat down delicately on the edge of the bed and looked at Raviel tenderly. Her anger towards Aster seemed to have faded into genuine concern for Raviel.

“The first time, he was only six years old. Six years old… It's so young, can you imagine? I had just arrived in this house, and I was not yet very comfortable with all the tasks entrusted to me.”

She paused slightly, before continuing.

“In Massallia, it is often said that it is impossible for a slave to escape a whipping. We inevitably end up making a mistake. I made mistakes, like others here, but Raviel always took the hits.”

She raised her head to look at Aster, who was listening to her in silence, leaning against the wall.

"You're right, you know. Our fate is deeply unjust. We are condemned to bow before those who have power. We must kowtow and accept whatever is imposed upon us. But Raviel’s life is not more enviable. To be honest, I prefer mine.”

She lowered her dark eyes to Raviel again.

“You have no idea what he went through, and what he's still going through today. I have known him since he was a child, I consider him my brother. I…”

Her words choked slightly in her throat.

“I made a promise to myself years ago that I would always watch over him.

A smile tinged with sadness invaded her face.

“I must seem very presumptuous to you.”

“No,” Aster whispered. “I understand.”

In his chest, his heart still felt painfully tight.

"Lana won't be here until tomorrow," Mel sighed.

"What can she do?"

“Her husband's Gift comes from the Healer. He can therefore prepare ointments that are particularly effective in healing wounds, and which can accelerate healing. I exhausted Raviel's last reserves when his father returned.”

Silence fell slowly, filling the room with apprehension.

***

Night had long since fallen when Raviel began to toss about in his sleep, his features contorted with pain. A low groan escaped his mouth, and Aster sat up immediately, looking alert. Mel had gone to lie down for a few hours, so he was alone to watch over Raviel. A new complaint escaped the sleeping man, close to a sob, and Aster froze.

***

“Raise your guard.”

Raviel obeyed without blinking.

“Your stance is firm. That's good.”

A beaming smile appeared on his lips, but it quickly evaporated. His father had just started moving. Raviel parried nimbly, and the blades clashed violently. But his child's body did not have the strength to resist. He found himself thrown to the ground with a cry of surprise. His sword fell in the grass with a muffled sound as he clutched his shock-numbed wrist.

“Stand up!”

He got up with difficulty, picking up the weapon that fell on the ground. He was exhausted. He barely had time to recover when another blow sent him rolling in the grass.

“Again.”

Raviel obeyed and narrowly parried the next blow. But he took several steps back, almost tripping. His body was exhausted. He had been facing his father for several hours so that he could continue his training.

“You can't afford to be so pitiful. You taint this family enough already.”

Raviel looked down, hurt. What could he do against Magnus’ Gift? A deep feeling of injustice and distress tied his throat.

“Don't lower your head.”

Raviel fixed his gaze on his father.

“Your guard.”

He raised his blade. But this time he lunged forward. He flinched when his father shoved him away roughly … He collapsed with a groan, gasping for air. His father had just landed him a powerful elbow in the solar plexus.

“If you don't try harder, I'm going to have to punish you.”

"I'm doing what I can," Raviel replied, his jaw clenched.

Her father dropped to one knee to look at him.

“It's not sufficient.”

Raviel looked at his father, but all he saw was a cold impassiveness on his face.

“You will never deserve your place in this society; you are far too weak. You must do better, much better.”

He got up.

“No need to continue. We will resume tomorrow.”

He turned around without adding anything, leaving his son in the middle of the grass. The latter watched him walk away, before getting up, furiously swallowing back his tears. His legs were shaking, but he raised his sword again. The blade sliced ​​through the air.

“I…”

He made a new movement in the void.

“I refuse to be weak,” he breathed.

For him. For his family.

***

“Raviel!”

The young patrician sat up abruptly using his arms. Immediately, the pain woke up in his body, and he emitted a dull complaint.

“Take it easy.”

Raviel turned his head slightly and met Aster's worried gaze.

“Aster,” he whispered uneasily.

His voice was hoarser than usual. Aster got up and said softly:

“I'm going to get Mel.”

“Hold on! Don't... Don't bother her for so little.”

Aster hesitated for a moment, but eventually capitulated and knelt by the bed.

“Do you need something?”

Raviel shook his head, his eyes still clouded with pain. He ran a hand over his face as if to chase the pain away or hide it. It had been a long time since that dream had come to disturb his nights. Perhaps because others had since taken over.

"Go rest," he whispered to the gladiator.

“Mel will kill me if I leave you alone,” Aster objected calmly.

And deep down, he did not want it. He was responsible for Raviel’s current state, and his vulnerability gripped his heart like a vise. Raviel smiled faintly, sensitive to the argument, and lay back down.

“Then stay,” he whispered.

He slowly closed his eyes, and Aster watched him sadly. He had been seriously mistaken. Satisfying the desire for freedom that had been suffocating him for two years was not worth such suffering. The young patrician didn't deserve this. Raviel… Maybe… they could get along after all.

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