Chapter 28: Chapter 27 – Zelia

“Where have you been?” Mel exclaimed.

They didn't have time to take more than a few steps into the atrium when the young woman rushed toward them with enthusiasm. Her features displayed an astonishing mixture of anger and concern. Anger that dissipated as soon as she saw Raviel's bruised face and the splint on his wrist.

“What happened?”

"It's not as bad as it looks," Raviel replied, hoping to reassure her.

Behind him, Aster cleared his throat slightly to contradict his words. Raviel whirled around to glare at him.

“Raviel…”

He turned wearily to Mel again.

“Follow me, I'll explain. Is my father home?”

She shook her head.

"It’s better that way. I don’t have the courage to face him now.”

Especially in his condition. He led her to his room, and Aster observed them without following them. His presence was not useful, and Raviel would surely appreciate meeting Mel in private. Yet, at this moment, he was helpless, standing in the atrium not knowing what to do.

“She was very worried about Raviel… and about you.”

Aster jumped when Rogis' voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He closed the door without a sound. He must have come from the vegetable garden since earth smeared his hands and the bottom of his tunic.

“About me?” He repeated, surprised.

Rogis nodded amusedly.

“She doesn't show it, but she's starting to like you.”

Aster ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it in the process.

“I would have thought the opposite,” he replied, the shadow of a smile on his lips.

“It took her a little time. But Raviel cares about you, so she accepts you. She was worried to death that night, not seeing you come home. Everyone else too,” he added, frowning slightly.

Aster's gaze dulled.

“Yes ... The night was complicated…”

“You should go rest. I'll bring you something to eat later,” Rogis offered.

Aster sketched a shy smile.

“That's nice, but do not waste your time. I'm going to lie down for a few hours, then I'll help you with the chores.”

Rogis shrugged, looking affable.

“As you wish, but do not hesitate to come to see me if you need anything!”

He waved at him before turning around to go to the kitchen. Aster quietly walked towards the bedrooms. He was about to reach the doors when Raviel's voice reached him.

“I tried, Mel. I was ready to break the promise I made to Lana… But…”

Raviel seemed to struggle for words, and Aster held his breath, aware that he had no business being there.

“But?” Mel encouraged gently.

Aster had to strain his ears to hear the answer.

“I couldn't. I wanted to save us… I wanted it with all my might. But I failed. I only faced emptiness. And... I wish I had spared him that…”

Aster bit his lip, torn between wanting to stay and wanting to flee.

"He is strong," Mel replied. “He will end up accepting this particularity.”

“I know ... But I would have preferred that this danger does not hover over him …”

Footsteps echoed in the room, and Aster backed away silently.

“Where are you going?” Mel asked.

“I have to see my mother. I have questions, and she's the only one I can ask without arousing suspicion.”

“I am coming with you!”

Before they could leave the room, Aster reached the first atrium, looking for Rogis. He would never be able to find peace with what he had just heard. The questions were already swirling in his mind.

***

Raviel entered the building where her mother lived, Mel following him.

"Are you sure you don't have any other way to get the answers you're looking for?" She asked.

“Not so quickly or so quietly.”

He didn't give Mel time to contradict him and called in a loud voice:

“Mother!”

It only took Cecilia a few moments to emerge from a room at the back of the atrium. She was dressed in a long, perfectly fitted tunic, tightened at the waist by a thin belt. A shawl covered her shoulders, while her dark hair cascaded over the fabric to her loins. She was standing straight, one hand on her hip and her chin slightly raised. Raviel watched him for a moment, searching for the slightest sign of instability, but her smoky eyes shone for once with a rare lucidity.

“Raviel, what do you want?” She asked in an icy voice.

No fondness. No love. As if all that remained was a heap of ashes in the middle of which sometimes a few hot embers were lost. Glimmers of hope that annihilated Raviel a little more each time. He took a deep breath and relegated his sadness to a corner of his mind. He hadn't come for that.

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“I have questions.”

He only allowed a perfectly mastered impassiveness to filter through. Cecilia's lips pursed disdainfully.

“Get out of my sight. You horrify me.”

She spun around, ready to leave the atrium. Maybe she wasn't as lucid as Raviel had first thought. Or maybe she was too much. He no longer knew what was really the manifestation of her madness and what was not. How deeply had her hatred taken root in her heart? It seemed to have overwhelmed all happy memories a long time ago. These same memories were dissipating in the mist as they seemed distant. Sometimes, when he concentrated, he heard laughter, remnants of a bygone era.

“No! I want answers!” He growled.

He skirted the basin in the center of the space and approached his mother with a brisk step. She stopped to look at him with a gloomy air.

"Have you ever heard of patricians born without Gift?"

Cecilia let out a cold laugh.

“Are you trying to understand why you are so pitiful?”

“Please answer,” Raviel replied in a cold voice.

However, his mother's words lacerated his heart.

"No," Cecilia replied with a smirk. “I had never heard of it until the day I found out what a disgrace you were.”

Raviel ignored her insult.

"Have you ever heard of abnormally powerful or, on the contrary, abnormally weak Gifts?"

Cecilia glared at him.

“Why would I answer you? I really don't care about your little existential questions.”

“What a pity! I who was hoping to enjoy a tender moment between mother and son…”

"Don't go too far!" she hissed.

Raviel narrowed his eyes slightly, waiting for the answer without blinking.

"I can, however, tell you about some of your hated peers. Those who have tainted our caste and whose name remains etched in our memories, like this little slut from Zelia!”

Raviel raised an eyebrow, puzzled.

“Who is she?”

“You see, I was convinced that she was a trusted friend, a patrician of such good birth. But one day, she ran away with a slave, and no one ever saw her again…”

She let a moment pass, taking her time to savor the fall of her story.

"Is that how you're going to end up?" Run away with a slave?”

Raviel suddenly stiffened.

“Shut your mouth!”

"But you were the one who wanted me to talk," Cecilia scoffed.

“It was a mistake!”

Raviel turned around and took several steps to join Mel, who was waiting for him near the door, wringing her hands nervously. He was wrong. In his presence, his mother no longer had an ounce of lucidity. Only her hatred remained. This desire to make him suffer, to make him regret being born. He had hoped for so long that she would come to her senses, that she would finally remember having loved him, but he could only accept the reality.

"Let's go, Mel.”

“See you soon, Raviel,” Cecilia said behind him.

He didn't bother to answer and pushed the door open abruptly to leave. Mel rushed after him. They covered several meters at a fast pace until Raviel slowed down.

“How are you?” Mel wondered gently.

Raviel slowly unclenched his fists. He hadn't been aware of it, but he was so tense that his nails had dug into the palms of his hands.

“Each time, I tell myself that after all this time she will not be able to affect my feelings,” he replied. “But she always stirs up my emotions.”

Sadness invaded his face, as he lifted his head to look at the sky. The rays of the sun came crashing down on his hair.

"It's not important," he continued in a low voice.

He turned to Mel.

“Can you do me a favor?”

"Of course," she agreed, smiling.

"Can you go to Lana and ask her what she knows about Zelia?"

Mel frowned slightly.

“What are you thinking about?”

“I'm probably wrong, but I prefer to be sure not to leave anything to chance. Zelia was a patrician and therefore had a Gift. But she ran away with a slave. Most likely they are dead…”

“Most likely?”

“Well, it turns out that Aster has a Gift, but nothing connects him to Massallia… With the exception of a mother who spoke Massallian perfectly.”

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