Chapter 26: Chapter 25 – The Warrior Gift

Raviel told Lana what happened, not omitting any detail. Lana's face contorted in fury as he spoke. When it came to an end, Raviel inhaled briefly.

“Aster has a Gift,” he admitted in a low voice. “And if it hadn't awakened, neither he nor I would be here today.”

Lana was left speechless.

“Are you sure? She asked, even though she knew the answer.

Raviel nodded.

“He turned into a lion.”

Lana's eyes widened.

“But no user of the Gift of the Warrior is capable of such transformation!

“I know... That would explain why I feel divine flows around him. His Gift may have roots closer to the gods than we have today.”

Raviel caught his breath.

“That doesn't make sense,” Lana sighed. “But you know what that entails. No one must know. He must stifle his Gift, or he will end up executed.”

Raviel nodded sadly.

“I'm going to talk with him.

"How did he take it?"

“Bad… But I can understand. He suddenly discovered that he had a powerful connection with the people who took everything from him.”

Lana let a moment pass before announcing in a worried voice.

“There is another problem. I sent someone I trust to dispose of the bodies. No one will find them. But the news of the disappearance of Titus ​​will not take long to reach the upper echelons of power.”

Raviel looked away, his eyes lost in space.

“Suspicions will quickly fall on you.”

“I know.”

"And apart from resisting the pressure of the patrician families, you won't be able to do anything."

Raviel sat up, ignoring the wave of pain that pounded his body.

“Anyway, the patricians can do what they want, it will be nothing out of the ordinary,” he added with a hint of bitterness.

Lana hesitated for a moment, before asking gently:

"What does the Emperor want from you?"

Weariness suddenly spread across Raviel's face.

“Nothing important,” he replied.

Lana sighed but didn't insist. It was useless when Raviel closed himself like this.

“I'm going to have to send for a Blacksmith for the chains on your wrists. A trustworthy person.”

Raviel nodded, too tired to answer out loud. Titus ​​mastered metal like no other. Only someone with that same Gift would be able to rid him of his shackles. Suddenly, a noise drew their attention towards the entrance of the room. Aster stood on the doorstep.

"I didn't mean to interrupt you," he blurted out.

Lana shook her head gently.

“I am going to leave you. Raviel, rest. Pontius will come shortly.”

She got up and crossed the room in a few steps. Aster moved aside so she could get out, then he joined Raviel.

“How is your leg?”

“Pretty good. Pontius told me not to force it, but he performed a miracle.”

Raviel smiled slightly. Aster watched him with concern. His face was still swollen, and every movement seemed painful. Pontius must have given priority to his most serious injuries. His wrists were still bound by thick iron bracelets, which weren't to ease the pain of his broken bone.

“Yes, he is very talented.”

"It's not the first time he's healed you, is it?"

A shadow crossed Raviel's eyes.

"It's true," he admitted. “It's not the first time I've ended up in this state.”

“Your father? Or Titus?”

Raviel tensed imperceptibly.

“My father would seem almost gentle to you compared to certain patricians.”

Aster wasn't sure he understood Raviel and Magnus' relationship, but what he was hearing didn't reassure him.

“You hid the extent of your injuries from me yesterday,” he observed. “You should have told me. I would have carried you. It would have avoided making them worse.”

Raviel moved slightly, but his movement made him wince in pain.

“It wasn't exactly the right time for me to complain.”

“You never complain.”

Raviel glared at him. Aster displayed a brief smile, then took the place that Lana had occupied a few moments earlier, at the edge of the sofa. He looked down, and his fingers gripped the fabric of his tunic nervously.

“I'm sorry I couldn't protect you.”

"Aster."

He lifted his head to gaze into the grey irises that were staring at him seriously.

“Without you, I would be dead now. And I can assure you that I would have suffered much worse than what I took yesterday.”

Aster frowned. Titus' hatred and violence kept assaulting his mind, as did the words he had spoken. The outlines of the story he discerned seemed very dark to him. And suffering had its place within it.

"Why was he so mad at you?"

Raviel flinched and painfully closed his eyes.

"It's complicated," he replied.

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But Aster had the right to have answers. He couldn't leave him in the dark any longer.

“I was dragged before the Massallian justice for murder,” he confessed.

"Did you kill?" Aster asked calmly.

Raviel opened his eyes again, and they shone with a feeling Aster couldn't identify.

“Yes.”

"Is that why you promised yourself you wouldn't use your sword again?"

“Yes, but I do not regret my action,” he replied.

He looked at Aster with a gleam of defiance deep in his usually soft irises. Still, he quickly turned his head away.

"My case was lost in advance," he admitted in a low voice. “My peers already hated me, and I faced some of the greatest patrician families. I was to be sentenced to death.”

He paused, to catch his breath.

“But Valens intervened. He asserted my innocence, and I was spared.”

"I'm not sure I understand the connection with Titus," Aster replied cautiously.

Raviel hesitated before confessing.

“Titus ​​was present the night when… When all this happened. He was one of my most vocal opponents. But Valens' intervention backfired, and he was stripped of his patrician rights.”

Aster was left speechless. Titus' aggressiveness made sense.

"What… how?"

Raviel gave him a sideways glance, telling him without a word that he was not ready to say more. But Aster was far from being stupid, and if he was missing many elements, the fragments he had were still starting to come together in his mind. Except for one thing.

"Is Helvia connected to all this?"

The answer did not come right away, but Raviel finally blurted out:

“Yes. And before you ask me, she doesn't like Titus.”

Aster frowned. It seemed that something was still eluding him, but Raviel interrupted his thoughts.

“We need to talk about something much more important.”

Aster stiffened.

"I don't want to talk about it," he replied.

“Aster… please…”

“No!”

His voice cracked violently in the air, and Raviel paled. He ran into a wall that left him distraught. He had the unpleasant impression of finding the Aster he had met almost a month ago. When he refused to trust him and only saw him as a contemptuous patrician.

“Please,” he repeated. “I promise you that if you don't want to talk about it later, I won't talk about it again.”

Aster agreed to look at him again, but his whole body was tense.

“You have a dangerous Gift, which seems to be more powerful than most patricians. Your transformation is not insignificant, only the Gifts resulting from the Warrior can allow it in certain cases. But that hadn't happened for centuries.”

Aster frowned, and his fingers started tapping his thigh nervously.

“What does that mean? I am not of Massallian descent.”

“I don't know, but that explains the flows of magic I feel around you.

Aster's eyes widened.

“You knew it!” He was offended. “Is that why you bought me?”

The anger showed in his voice with violence. Raviel shook his head gently.

“It is not that simple. When I saw you fight the first time, I had some doubts. My father's Gift also stems from the Warrior, and it was he who taught me how to fight, so seeing you I wondered. But I never thought you could have such a powerful Gift.”

Aster glared at him.

“You hid your doubts from me.”

“You want me to believe that you would have reacted well if I had told you?” Raviel replied.

Aster would have liked to retort something but found nothing to answer. Raviel was right.

"Are you sure you don't have any Massallian origins?" Even distant?”

Aster glared at him.

"Yes," he said in a voice that welcomed no challenge.

“You told me that your mother spoke Massallian perfectly, so much so that she taught it to you.”

“She traveled a lot.”

Aster stiffened, not appreciating at all the turn the conversation was taking.

“I know what you're trying to do, and it won't work,” he snapped. “My mother was not from Massallia.”

They stared at each other for a few moments, until Raviel gave in.

“You have two options now. The first is to bury your Gift deep within yourself and forget it even exists. The second is to learn to master it so that you never lose control.”

“And I suppose it is you who will teach me this?” Aster retorted.

Raviel's face fell. Aster could have hit him, and the result wouldn't have been different. The gladiator seemed to realize it as his expression changed completely.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “That's not what I meant…”

"Yes," replied Raviel, his expression icy. “That's exactly what you meant. But that's not important. I made a promise to you that nothing would happen to you, and I'll stick to it. But it's up to you what you want to do.”

A moment passed before he added:

“Nevertheless, you must know that rejecting your Gift would lead to mutilating a part of your soul.”

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