Chapter 22: Chapter 21 – Severus’ Threat

Raviel inhaled briefly before entering his father’s office. Magnus was there, lying on a sofa. he held a wax-coated wooden tablet on which a few sentences had been engraved. He immediately looked up at his son when he came in.

“Raviel.”

“Father.”

Magnus put the tablet next to him and sat up. He was a dozen centimeters taller than his son, and his position as a general had led him to develop substantial muscle mass. Conversely, Raviel was much more slender, had finer features, and lacked his father's square jaw. They seemed to have nothing in common. Only this strange bond persisted between them, sometimes marked by reciprocal respect, but often perverted by the power imbalance between them.

“What do you want?” Magnus said

There was no animosity in his voice, only a coldness that was characteristic of him.

"Did you know that the Imperial Guard has a new commander?"

Magnus grimaced slightly.

“I heard about it when he was appointed.”.

A glimmer of incomprehension crossed Raviel's eyes. As a general, Magnus should have learned of the appointment of a new commander before he officially took office, or even before the latter learns of his appointment.

“Who is he?”

Magnus raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you interested in that? You retired from military life.”

“I prefer to know who I have to face when I go to the palace.”

"What are you going to do there?"

Raviel's jaw twitched slightly.

“Severus summons me. I have no choice,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“Why?”

“Because my visions apparently interest him,” Raviel spat bitterly.

Magnus took a step toward his son.

"Watch your tone; don’t talk to me like that." He warned.

Raviel's anger evaporated in favor of a certain impassiveness.

“My apologies.”

Magnus nodded, but he didn't like what he was hearing. Raviel looked uncharacteristically furious.

“His name is Morticus, but I know nothing more about him.”

Raviel frowned.

“But you…”

Magnus cut him off with an annoyed wave of his hand.

'I've never met him before, either in Massallia or in the provinces.”

Raviel bit his lip nervously. However, the man had already taken part in military campaigns since he had ravaged Aster’s village. Something eluded him.

“If you want to be careful, don't go near him. Try to stay out of trouble this time.”

Raviel gave him an icy stare, but Magnus ignored him.

“As for the Emperor, I can only advise you to be wary of him.”

His son looked at him in surprise. Judging by his expression, Magnus didn't seem to have Severus in his heart. Perhaps because of his arrogance, since that was a flaw that particularly put off Magnus.

"If I could, I'd be content to never have to face him," Raviel replied. “Unfortunately, I am not allowed any free will.”

He spun around, ready to leave the room, but his father called him back in a firm voice.

"I'm going to have to go back. At the Emperor's request.”

Raviel froze.

“So soon?”

He couldn't say he missed his father when he was away, but he usually spared him some trouble, like confronting his mother during her tantrums. Suddenly, a doubt crossed his mind. Was Severus purposely pushing Magnus away?

"Yes, I'm leaving in two days.”

“Alright. When do you expect to come back?”

“I do not know. I'm counting on you to take care of the family estate.”

Raviel nodded.

“I will do it.”

Magnus seemed to hesitate for a moment before adding:

“You did well last time.”

Raviel's eyes widened in astonishment. He could count on his fingers the times his father had complimented him. Magnus didn't give him time to dwell on it and implicitly dismissed him by resuming his seat on the daybed. Raviel left the room without a word and went to his room, lost in thought.

He had always hoped he could make his father proud of him. He had come to terms with the fact that it would probably never happen. Their relationship was too damaged for that. Raviel suspected that Magnus held him partly responsible for his mother's madness. After all, it had begun to manifest itself shortly after his birth… And no doubt his lack of Gift had been the final blow. Who would have wanted a son who would be the laughingstock of the patricians? Hated, despised… How could his father have loved him under these conditions? His downfall three years earlier had completed the destruction of the last ties uniting them.

He sighed. No need to think about all that now. He had to get ready to go to the palace. Severus was waiting for him.

"Have you seen your father?"

Raviel glanced briefly at Aster, who had just appeared in the atrium.

“Yes.”

“It seems to have gone well,” Aster observed cautiously.

Indeed, there had been neither shouts nor blows.

“That's one way of looking at things.”

He preferred to keep the details of the discussion with Magnus to himself. He didn't want to twist the knife in the wound, and Aster's wound still seemed raw.

"Do you know how to put on a toga?" He asked.

Aster raised an eyebrow, looking doubtful.

“Not at all. Why?”

“It's a nightmare to put alone. But I think Mel is busy.”

Aster sighed slightly.

“I can always try.”

Raviel gave an amused smile.

“I will guide you.”

***

"Have you thought about our last conversation?"

Raviel couldn't stand that voice. Too authoritative, and yet slightly sweet. As if Severus was convinced that everything had already been claimed by him.

“My answer will not change. I don't control my visions.”

Sitting on his throne, Severus gave a disgruntled grin. Then, without taking his eyes off Raviel, he got up and went down the few steps leading to the apse of the audience hall.

"I didn't know you were stupid. I might have overestimated you.”

Raviel glared at him.

"What don't you understand in my answer?" He growled. “I will not invent what I do not see!”

"Don't forget that you are addressing the Emperor!"

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Raviel didn't reply right away, and Severus took the opportunity to cross the gap between them. He leaned his head forward, determined to intimidate Raviel using his height. Still, the young patrician didn't blink. He had suffered this kind of ridiculous attempt for years. Severus thought he was different, but he was no better than the rest of the patricians.

“An emperor who bears only the title,” Raviel castigated him.

He was tired of being looked down upon. Severus would never get anything from him.

Suddenly, Raviel felt the atmosphere crackle around him. He cringed when he realized what was happening. But nothing could have stopped the Gift of Severus from invading space. Lightning streaked through the air, arcing above the ground… And hitting Raviel head-on.

Pain erupted through his body so violently that it knocked him down in an instant. His breath was disrupted as he was in shock, and his mouth dropped open in a silent cry. His legs buckled, and he slumped to the ground, his muscles tensing in spasms of pain. It was so unbearable that he wanted to scream, but the sounds were choking in his throat. Lightning was everywhere. On his skin, in his veins, in his nerves, in his bones. It blinded him, deafened him, and made him suffocate.

Then it all stopped. The lightning vanished as quickly as it struck, leaving Raviel devoid of all his strength. He was out of breath, shaking, and nauseous. A thin film of sweat covered his forehead and stuck his silver hair to his face. He raised his painful gaze with difficulty to Severus, who was standing a few feet away and towering over him with contempt.

“I am the emperor. And you are nothing.”

He bent down to grab Raviel's hair tightly, squeezing a muffled moan from him.

“I keep asking myself what my father could see in you.”

Raviel's eyes widened, and Severus continued in a low voice, staring darkly at him.

“You are weak, miserable, and subject to the whims of others. You're worth little more than a slave.”

He pulled Raviel's face to his, and muttered furiously:

"Do you think you can stand up to me? Very well. But I swear to you that I will break you. You will bow, Raviel, and submit to my will.”

Raviel gave a strange smile.

"Do you want to break me?" He breathed. “You won’t succeed. Others have tried to do so before you.

Severus released him abruptly.

“What do you think?” He yelled. “From now on, your life will be summed up only by my desires! You will come here when I order you to, and I can assure you that it will last until you bow down. The rest of the time, you will be closely watched.”

He turned around, leaving Raviel on the white tiles, and headed for the exit.

***

Aster waited nervously outside the Audience Hall doors. A bad feeling twisted his insides. With the determined gleam in his eyes, Raviel had almost succeeded in convincing him that there was nothing to be afraid of. But Aster's intuition screamed that the patrician was far from certain of what he was saying.

Suddenly he flinched. A wave of magic shook the audience hall. He didn't hesitate for a moment and rushed towards the doors.

“If I were you, I would stop there.”

Aster froze in mid-movement, before slowly turning around. Helvia faced him, a grave look on her face.

“If you walk into that room and interrupt the Emperor, you'll only get Raviel into more trouble… Or is that your goal?”

Aster dreamed of jumping at her throat and teaching her a lesson. The shadow of a smirk furtively brushed Helvia's lips.

“You know what's going on inside.”

“Of course,” Helvia answered nonchalantly. “Raviel can count himself lucky that Severus doesn't know him.”

“But you do?” Aster hissed.

Helvia crossed her arms over her voluptuous chest and tilted her head slightly to the side, looking thoughtful.

“Of course. It is not by torturing him like this that Severus will obtain anything. Raviel knows pain too well to let anyone have power over him using that.”

"Then why don't you intervene?"

Aster's body was so tense that he seemed ready to jump at any moment.

"Do you want to know why I don't tell Severus how to pressure Raviel?" Helvia asked with a hint of amusement.

She took a few steps to get closer to Aster.

“I support Severus in many ways, and I am loyal to him to some extent. But if I reveal Raviel's greatest weakness to him, I'll be deprived of it at the same time.”

She studied Aster's face, before slightly deviating to the rest of his body.

“Don't come near him,” he growled.

Helvia smiled more frankly.

“You can never get in my way.”

She took a few steps back and waved at him.

“It was a pleasure to chat with you.”

Aster watched her walk away, his fists clenched and his body shaking with rage. But he didn't have time to react when the door behind him opened with a crash. He turned quickly but froze when he saw the Emperor. The latter gave him a contemptuous look, before asking disdainfully:

“You are Raviel's slave, aren't you? Take him home. I want to see him tomorrow.”

And he walked away without waiting for an answer. Aster rushed into the audience room, just in time to see Raviel lean on one of his hands and struggle to get up. Part of his toga had slipped and was resting on the white tiles.

“Raviel.”

The young patrician turned to him, and Aster joined him in a few steps. Raviel looked like he wanted to say something, but his legs suddenly gave way. Aster narrowly caught him and tightened his arms tightly around him to prevent him from collapsing. He then saw the marks that streaked his pale skin. They looked like burns but formed strange red symbols.

“What…”

"Don't say anything, please," Raviel whispered. “It's not as terrible as it looks.”

Aster frankly doubted it, but he didn't insist. This was neither the place nor the time to discuss it.

"Let's go home," he finally answered.

Raviel slightly pulled Aster's tunic.

“Wait.”

Aster stopped.

“I do not want to go home yet. Let’s go somewhere else first.”

“You can barely stand,” Aster replied, more worried than he showed.

“Please…”

Aster gave in.

“Where?"

Raviel's lips quirked into a tired smile.

“You will see.”

Aster studied his face curiously, searching in vain for any clue as to their destination. He didn't hesitate for long, however.

“Alright, let's go.”

He pulled the fabric that had slipped over Raviel's shoulder.

"It was well worth wasting the time before leaving," he added with a smile.

“Sorry,” Raviel replied.

But an amused gleam lit his eyes. Aster put an arm around his shoulder, to help him walk. They took their time walking out of the palace, until Raviel suddenly stopped, forcing Aster to halt. A woman was coming from the opposite direction. Her long dark hair was held back by a fine white gold tiara, set with small diamonds. Her ivory dress revealed her bare arms. He recognized her immediately: it was the woman who had stared at him insistently during the coronation of Severus. The one that had inspired him with a fear as lively as it was irrational. She glared at him, and Raviel felt his heartbeat slowing down and his strength leaving him. Fear and exhaustion seemed to have become too much of a burden to bear.

“Raviel…”

“I’m fine.”

He had nonetheless grabbed his tunic at his chest as if it could help him breathe better. The woman passed them without stopping, and the gaze that landed on Raviel made him shiver. They were brimming with implacable fury.

"It was just dizziness," he added without believing it.

Aster didn't seem more convinced. Raviel gave him a reassuring smile, but it couldn't completely conceal the fear that still lingered in his eyes. His only thought was to leave this palace full of misfortunes. When they reached the outside, Raviel took a deep breath of air. The end of the day was near, but an overwhelming heat persisted.

"Let's go," he said.

Aster nodded slowly, and they walked away from the palace without a word. Without seeing the shadow that was watching them.

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