Chapter 13: Chapter 12 – Gods and Men

Raviel had to stop in the middle of the stairs leading to the Massallia Library to catch his breath. Several days had passed since he chose to receive Aster's punishment. Thanks to Lana's ointment, the deep cuts on his back had faded in favor of thinner scars. But his abused body was still struggling to recover fully, which is why Mel had cast him a disapproving glance when he announced he would be going to the Massallia Library.

“Perhaps it would have been wiser to wait another day before coming here.”

Raviel glared at Aster. He waited quietly at his side, impassive, but Raviel, nevertheless, discerned a real solicitude behind his mask.

"I'm fine," The young patrician countered.

Aster slightly raised an eyebrow. That was not what Raviel's gasping breaths indicated.

"Why did you come on foot?"

Raviel shifted a few steps, so as not to obstruct traffic, dragging Aster after him.

"I don't like litters," he simply said.

He fell silent, in order to concentrate on his still somewhat irregular breathing. Aster watched him for a moment, before finally asking him the question that had been burning his lips since their departure.

"Why didn't you bring Mel with you instead? She would have been more useful to you than me.”

Raviel gave a slight smirk.

“I remind you that you are supposed to protect me.”

“I doubt anyone will let me draw this sword inside the Library,” Aster retorted, pointing to the weapon strapped to his waist.

Raviel's smile widened.

“It's true. Above all, I imagined that you might be interested in coming here.”

"And if I’m not?" Aster asked cheekily.

He didn't think so, though. If his provocation annoyed Raviel, the latter didn't show it. On the contrary, an amused gleam floated in his eyes. Aster now trusted him enough to allow himself to be more relaxed around him.

"In that case, I'll let you go back."

Aster did not move.

"But then you would deprive Mel of a few hours of rest alongside Rogis."

His gaze became more mischievous when Aster was left speechless.

“They are…”

“They circled around each other,” Raviel corrected.

Aster finally managed a smile. He had indeed wondered if Rogis was interested in Mel, but he had not imagined that it was reciprocal. To tell the truth, he had even thought about the fact that Mel might have feelings for Raviel. It was clear that he had been seriously mistaken and that she indeed considered Raviel as a brother, despite his status. Which could be understood since they had grown up together. Well, that could be understood by someone like Aster. He suspected that the patricians did not take kindly to the friendship that Raviel maintained with his slaves.

“Let's go.”

Raviel seemed ready to resume the ascent. Aster nodded, his mind still filled with many questions. But these evaporated as soon as they reached the top of the stairs. Before them stood the Library of Massallia with its shining stone, and its gigantic columns. It looked a lot like the Emperor's palace, Aster thought, no less admiring.

But what appealed to him, even more, was the colossal pediment at the entrance to the building and its delicate engravings. These seemed to represent combat scenes, then an official ceremony, or perhaps a religious ritual. Aster couldn't decide. Human figures had been immortalized there, some huge, others much less.

"It's part of Massallia's History," Raviel explained.

"What does this fresco say?"

Raviel looked up at the shapes that adorned the pediment.

“The separation of gods and men.”

Aster frowned and was about to ask a question, but Raviel took him by surprise.

"I explained to you that we don't name our gods, didn't I? This was not the case originally, but today doing so has become so serious that it is likened to blasphemy.”

“What changed?” Aster asked curiously.

“Massallia is a very old city, so much so that many things have fallen into oblivion,” Raviel began quietly. “So there is a lot of vagueness about the period which goes back more than a thousand years.”

Aster listened without interrupting him, eager to learn more.

“What we know may not be fully accurate because of the passage of time. But it is said that there was a time when gods and men lived in harmony. The gods then had favorites, to whom they granted Gifts, whose power was no longer to be proven. These favorites were no longer quite men, and the gods had a certain tendency to maintain sexual relations with them. The children born of these unions possessed formidable powers, which were said to be equal to the gods’ abilities.”

"But those are just legends, aren't they?"

“Maybe, or maybe not. You saw for yourself what a Gift could do.”

Aster remained silent, and Raviel continued.

“One day, one of these children decided to go beyond the divine laws and overthrow the gods, dragging with him many men overwhelmed by their power. Their action engendered a terrible war, which left Massallia bloody. The gods obviously won, but it was a carnage because all those born of a divine parent were massacred.”

He paused slightly, looking thoughtful.

“The gods then returned to their domain and never returned to Massallia, promising that they would never again unite with humanity.”

"What would happen otherwise?"

“I suppose the child would be executed,” Raviel replied softly.

"But it's barbaric! The child has done nothing wrong.”

Raviel turned to Aster. The breeze suddenly swept through his hair as a sad glow animated his grey eyes.

“Many things are barbaric in Massallia. Similarly, a slave with a Gift will be executed, or someone born with the King's Gift.”

Aster frowned, as much in surprise as in anger.

"Why isn't anyone allowed to possess the King's Gift?"

'It's the Emperor's privilege since he's the man supposed to embody both human and divine laws. And he is not born with it, he acquires it during a ritual during his coronation. As for the patrician families, they descend from the favorites of the gods. Their Gifts are a heritage they intend to preserve, hence the fact that they never mingle with the plebeians,” Raviel added with a slight grimace.

“It rarely happens that plebeians are born with a Gift, probably because they are bastards or they descend from bastards.”

Raviel looked down. What he had told Aster brought back painful memories. He inhaled briefly, before raising his head as if nothing had happened.

“We should go.”

And without waiting for an answer, he walked towards the entrance of the Library.

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***

Aster couldn't help but marvel when they entered a huge room, where the shelves carved out of the stone housed hundreds of rolls of papyrus. Maybe even thousands. Aster couldn't accurately estimate their quantity. He had never seen so many. The top and bottom of the shelves were richly decorated with engravings and gold leaf, which contrasted with the sobriety of the rest of the rectangular room.

Lost in his observations, Aster barely heard Raviel discussing in a low voice with an older man. No doubt it was the guardian of the place. After several long minutes, Raviel finally came back and told him he was going to the back of the room. Aster followed him mechanically and watched him grab a scroll. Holding it firmly in his hands, Raviel slowly slid the old document to gradually unroll it. He seemed to see if the information contained in it was likely to interest him.

Aster moved closer curiously, and let his eyes wander over the ink-blackened lines. Raviel looked at him sideways.

"You know how to read Massallian," he observed.

Caught in the act, Aster immediately turned his head away.

“I did not say that to prevent you from satisfying your curiosity. I was simply intrigued. It's not common for a slave to know how to read Massallian. I don't suppose you learned it at the gladiator school.”

Aster just nodded. Indeed, he did not see Mordax wasting time on this kind of thing.

“And you speak without the slightest accent. However, it seemed to me that you came from somewhere else.”

Aster returned his gaze to Raviel, who had stopped reading and was now looking at him inquisitively.

"It's true, I'm not from here," he finally replied. “But my mother spoke and read Massallian fluently. And she wanted her children to be educated.”

"How did she learn it?"

“Her parents were traveling merchants. During her youth, she spent a lot of time on the road, and Massallian is the most spoken language. She stopped traveling when she met my father, but she wanted to give us all the possible tools to do what we wanted in life. She was right, it served me well,” he added with a touch of bitterness.

Raviel's gaze dulled slightly and a flash of guilt crossed his face. Aster was surprised for a moment, then remembered that it was not the first time that Raviel seemed to bear the weight of the wrongs of his people. The empathy he showed had something touching and slowly ebbed away the anger that had invaded Aster.

“When I was little, I was unbearable,” he continued gently as if to apologize. “I always protested when she tried to make me sit down to teach me to read. I preferred to join my father in the forest. He regularly accepted that I accompany him to teach me hunting or to find roots, herbs, and fruits.”

He seemed to be lost in his memories, his gaze much more tender than usual. Raviel lowered the scroll he was holding without making a sound, for fear of breaking the sudden quietude that had settled between them.

“Even today, I cherish every moment I spent with my parents and my sister.”

Aster felt his heart tighten as sadness washed over him. Aya… His little sister… He missed her so much.

"We were ten years apart," he whispered. “But she was always with me…”

Ten years. It was also the age she was when Massallian soldiers didn't hesitate for a moment before killing her.

"I'm ten years apart from Lana too," Raviel whispered. “But I didn't live long with her. She was sixteen when she got married and left the family home.”

He felt a twinge of pain in his chest at the thought. Following Lana's departure, his life had taken a new turn. Hearing it, Aster suddenly seemed to come back to reality. The sadness vanished to give way to a more neutral expression. He didn't like going back to his memories, from which he often had trouble extracting himself.

“You two still seem close,” he noted.

Raviel nodded, a vague smile on his face.

“It's true.”

He unrolled the document he was still holding in his hands to resume his reading.

“If you… If you tell me what you're looking for, I might be able to help you,” Aster informed him suddenly. “It will be faster if there are two of us.”

Raviel gave him a surprised look, unused to Aster being so familiar with him. Finally, his face seemed to light up.

“It's a good idea. Only... I don't know exactly what I'm looking for,” he admitted.

Aster raised an eyebrow, neither entirely mocking nor entirely dubious. In response, Raviel gave him an amused smile.

"And how are we supposed to find out then?"

"Instinct, I suppose," Raviel replied.

He handed him the scroll he was holding. Aster grabbed it without hesitation, and Raviel took a few steps toward the shelf to take a new one.

“I'm looking for evidence of particular traces of magic, similar to those of the Gifts, but not identical.”

"Particular? What do you mean?”

“If I knew more, this research wouldn't be necessary,” Raviel replied.

Aster grimaced slightly.

***

They had been going through ancient texts for several hours when Raviel sighed deeply.

"There's no point in continuing," he said in frustration.

Aster immediately looked up at him. Raviel looked exasperated and oddly furious. Maybe against himself?

"I don't know enough for our research to be effective," he went on.

Or else… Maybe it was just him who had a problem, Raviel thought bitterly. Had he dreamed what he had felt?

“Getting some fresh air will do us good,” Aster agreed.

Raviel carefully put down the scrolls they were studying before heading out of the room. When they got outside, he had the impression that his frustration subsided somewhat. He stood still for a moment, letting the breeze caress his face despite the scorching sun.

“Let's go back. I'm starting to feel tired.”

His body was still sore. He took a step forward but stopped immediately when he faltered. Afraid to see him collapse, Aster immediately went to his side and looked at him worriedly. He hadn't been aware of Raviel's exhaustion until this moment. He should have known, though. He blamed himself. Despite Lana's ointment, it was obvious that Raviel couldn't have recovered from the whipping in such a short time. Aster was well placed to know, and it annoyed him all the more to have let himself be blinded by the calm facade displayed by Raviel.

"It's all right," he muttered.

Aster refrained from commenting, but he didn't take his eyes off Raviel when he continued on his way. They took their time descending the stairs, but when they reached the last steps, two soldiers suddenly blocked their way, a spear in their hand. Their breastplate turned out to be too richly worked for it to be simple legionnaires. It only took a second for Raviel to connect them to the Imperial Guards, the Emperor’s soldiers. By reflex, Aster's fingers quickly found the pommel of his sword.

“What can I do for you?” Raviel asked in a deceptively affable voice.

Aster, however, saw that his shoulders had tensed.

"The Emperor wants to see you," one of the soldiers answered simply.

Raviel slightly released the pressure that had suddenly invaded his muscles and gestured to Aster that he could do the same.

"I will come with you," he announced calmly.

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