ROANER KORSANA
NADREXI — SOUTHERN COURT OF QUAMFASI
M aivena, my brother can be very pernicious. Even with those he loves.” Her sharp green eyes stare in my direction as she ferociously makes tea in the kitchen of her father’s home in Nadrexi. “He never means it but I am helping him work through not reacting on the first emotion he feels.”
She does not respond, instead she brings me a small vessel of tea.
“Unless you would prefer wine like me,” she says after noticing I do not sip the tea.
I look outside and the sun is still high in the sky while she drinks her tiny vessel of wine.
When I shift my eyes back to her, she is still intently staring at me, daring me to mention the time of day that she is consuming alcohol.
“Your brother tends to have a streak in him when he does not get what he wants.”
“Do you remember the saying about the Orviantes?” I ask. “How they all used to be quick to anger at inconveniences. I believe Laven has that streak.”
Maivena sits on the chaise across from me and stares down at the small vessel of wine in her hands. “Was his father like him?”
I smile. “Laven the first and Laven the second are exactly that. The first and the second. Laven is the clone of his father with streaks of black in his hair.”
She laughs before looking up. “What was his father like?”
“His father was strong, calculated, quiet, and had a soul like I never knew. I admired him because he reminded me of my late father. When I came to Vaigon I was a fatherless child that looked for trouble in every corner until I crossed paths with Laven, and his father became a parental figure to me that I easily realized I was craving. The second son he lost is what he called me.”
“Why is that?” She asks, entirely absorbed into the conversation.
“Apolla, Laven’s mother, miscarried their second son, and when I came into their life Laven’s father swore I was the child he now holds in his heart as what would have been.”
“It is eerie,” Maivena observes. “You look like them, but your skin is slightly lighter.”
“Plenty of people believe that it is from the Blood Bond Ritual,” I explain. “Although, Laven and I mimicked one another before then. Many people thought we were brothers before the ritual.”
“Your doppelgänger.”
“Something like that,” I say. “Laven and I are similar in many ways which is why I tend to understand him much quicker than the rest. Although, he hated me when we first met, nearly beat me until I died.” Maivena’s eyes widen, and I laugh. “Oh, I deserved it. I forced his hatred to appear out of jealousy, I wanted his life, the life I knew I would have had with my family before my father died. But now, both of our fathers are gone and that leaves us, just me and him. Laven and his father saved my life at such a young age when all I knew was rage, just like my brother. And I will do anything within my power to make sure he finds the peace he deserves, and I am going to be sure the both of us turn out to be the men our fathers were for our sons.”
“The both of you will make amazing fathers,” Maivena says sipping her wine. “I enjoy hearing these details about you and them. I do not think Laven would have ever told me.”
“Laven does want to tell you,” I correct her. “He had no time.”
No time before you left.
She does not answer, she only nods. Instead of answering me she returns the conversation to where it was. “I am afraid I see you being an all-girl father.”
“I think so too.” I chuckle in agreement. “What about Laven?” I urge her to read her own future and his.
She takes a moment, pondering on the thought. “Boys,” she quietly speaks. “And one tyrant girl. The girl will be his favorite, but he will not forget to love his sons.”
“Yes,” I smile. “That does sound about right.”
“Nothing tells me otherwise.” She laughs. “How did you and Laven come about to like one another? Let alone be bonded by blood.”
Tracing back to those times, it was all because of Levora. “A mutual acquaintance, Levora was her name, she brought us closer by forcing us to be around one another. She was a dear companion to both Laven and I.” I choose not to speak too much about Laven’s life especially about Levora, a story he wishes to tell her on his own. “She gave us no choice but to tolerate one another and I thank her deeply for it. If it were not for Levora I would not know the love of a brother let alone a sibling.”
Maivena nods. “The love of a sibling is quite different. You feel obligated to give them the world and some days you chase to take it from them.”
I cautiously continue this particular conversation. “Have you missed your brother?”
“Every second I was gone I missed him . . . but I will see him soon.” And with that, she quiets.
I look to the small table sitting between us and the book Laven gave her is sitting on it. “I will make a pact with you.”
“What pact?”
My head sways from side to side. “Not technically a pact, but a benefit for you.”
“And that is?”
I point to the book that says THE VAULTAI in large letters. “We begin training and I teach you everything important to know about controlling your powers and more.”
“And nothing in return for your dues?”
“Nothing.”
“Not even time with my cousin?” Maivena smirks.
“You are funny,” I wave my finger. “No, not even that.” I lie.
* * *
I put my hands in my pockets as I stare at the portal gradually appearing in front of me. Purely through mind work, I open the portal.
Regret.
To the pit of my bones I can feel the regret that will brew every day if Levora returns now. There is no certainty that she will be found immediately after it opens, but the time I spend looking for her could be spent understanding my purpose with Esme.
‘Do not let your life be filled with regret or what could have been. If you need time, take your time and keep that portal shut.’ My mother’s words repeat in my head, yet it all feels selfish.
All of this endless searching, sleepless nights looking, illegally crossing borders of multiple realms in search. All of this turmoil I have put into Levora only to end it and leave her where she is after years of searching just because I need to know if this woman I have only known for a short period of time will mean everything to me or nothing.
The portal continues to expand, and I see the peaking view of the woods I have previously seen when opening the portal.
And gradually, it closes, and I leave.
VAIGON CITADEL
As I walk down the stairs outside of the palace I can see Amias and Morano talking with each other over liquor at the large stone table. All around them sit large floral trees, statue fountains of Laven’s grandfather, Vaigon, and pavement to walk around on that now has grass growing around it.
“Brother,” Amias holds a drink outward for me to take.
“Keep it here,” I nod for him to place it on the table. “Where is Laven?” I ask, although I am certain I know.
“Chaos Chamber.” Morano proves my thought correct.
“Keep my glass, I am going to check on him.”
“If you can get in there, you know no one has ever seen that room.” Amias says before tossing back the rest of the alcohol in his glass.
When I get to the highest floor of our home where Laven’s Chaos Chamber is the door is cracked open, which it never is.
I step nearer to the door, and I can see the destruction done to the room.
The artistic destruction.
Plenty of beautiful pieces of art lie around the room, then there is the destruction. The torn wallpaper, the broken windows, and somehow he managed to draw on the ceiling though I see no ladder lying around.
Laven has always had an artistic soul, but none of us knew how deep the passion was.
‘What would we be if not royals?’ Amias asks as me and my brothers sit on the mountains that hover atop Nadrexi.
We fall silent, pondering on the thought of who and what we would become or if we would even be alive.
‘I would have taken my mother home to Galitan,’ I begin. ‘And I would be seeking guidance from my relative Martana to be a greater Sorcerer to care for my mother. I do not know if I will ever have a mate, but if I do, I will care for her and her family as well.’
‘I would be dead.’ Morano quietly speaks.
‘No you would not,’ Laven instantaneously speaks. ‘Even if we were not royals, I would still discover a way to keep you from pursuing that form of work.’
Morano does not elaborate further. ‘And you?’ He asks Laven.
Laven stares far into the sunset and wonders.
‘If I were not a royal I live on the countryside not far from the city, I would be an artist, and Mai–’ he stops speaking and is slow to continue, but we wait. ‘I would lead a simple life, quiet and poetic. My father said there will never be anything more to life than the people who love you and how you treated them. In my dreams I live an unpretentious life, and I would still live it if I could.’
Amias shifts and smiles. ‘Hua and I would still be Warriors in the Mandem, but we would live a much more hidden life than what we live now. But a Warrior is what I was born to be, some days I believe that is all I was meant for, then Hua comes along and proves me wrong. If I am certain about anything in my life no matter the outcome, it is her.’
Looking back, I now know exactly who that was he nearly mentioned to us and seeing this room full of death and beauty, I know this is what he feels on the inside.
The humbleness of being thankful for his life yet loathing it in the same moment. That is what this room defines. The chaotic phases of his life and how he copes with his existence in such a ghast world.
In the distance I can hear his boots dragging through the grass, when I look through the windows I see him approaching in the distance below. To keep from being seen, I ascend back to the courtyard with Amias and Morano.
“Well?” Morano speaks first with a worried expression. “Did you get in?”
“He was not there.” I exhale heavily as I remove my cloak and undo the strings of my undershirt beneath my vest.
“Here,” Amias taps the rim of the glass with liquor in it.
I do not disclose what I saw. What I experienced felt too personal to see and I could not let anyone know that I witnessed what truly is going through my brother’s soul.
“Hopefully this was a lesson for him.” Amias says before drinking what is left in his glass.
“No,” Morano knocks the edge of his empty glass against the stone table. “This was no lesson for him to learn. That was not something Laven would do, that was very out of character for him to bed a woman he does not know.”
“What if he is going through it again?” Morano asks staring into his glass.
Amias and I both look at each other and then at Morano.
“We are older now,” Morano continues. “Yes, we have a closer eye on him, but you heard what the Healer said all those years ago after confinement for so long—after being tortured for so long. He was declared manic due to his state. What if he stays in that chamber for so long we find him as we did years ago?”
‘What has happened to him?’ Morano asks standing near the door, he grips the doorknob behind him as he watches.
When I look at Laven, he is sitting in the corner of the room whispering mumbled words as he picks at his skin in one particular place on his arm.
Amias slowly walks forward, and I grab his arm. ‘No, I would not.’
‘Something is not right.’ Amias whispers. ‘He has never acted like this his entire life.’
‘That is not Laven.’ I warily speak.
The Healer stands nearby. ‘Due to the disturbance from incarceration, his mental state is tremendously fragile. I have seen it in the past with others who were . . . tortured in Wyendgrev Tower. There is a slight possibility that he may not recover from this, and there is a chance he can.’
‘He will,’ I say. ‘He will recover.’
‘You are young, child. You do not have the education to be certain that he will be fine after such trauma.’
‘Then I will learn,’ Morano says as he gently approaches Laven. ‘I will learn,’ Laven’s head twitches as he tries to look up at Morano now crouching beside him. ‘I will learn what it takes to help someone come back to themselves.’
Morano grabs Laven’s hand that is picking at his skin, and he holds it.
‘It is not that simple.’
‘I did not say it would be.’ Morano snaps. ‘I said I will learn. I will not let him stay like this, he does not deserve to be physically trapped and now mentally trapped. He would not allow it to happen to any of us. We will heal him!’ Morano shouts at the Healer and I can see the tears falling down his face and landing on their hands that are conjoined.
‘What-wh-wha–”
‘Shh,’ Morano hushes Laven. ‘Do not worry, you will be fine. Let us lie down, you should not sit in this corner for long, your wounds will not properly heal this way.’
It is difficult, but Morano gets him to stand, and his frail body is still wrapped in bandages due to his wounds the Healer is mending. But I cannot say this Healer knows what they are doing when it comes to the mind.
‘Ma-M-Mai-Mai–’ Laven tries again. ‘Sh-sh-she-she is–’
‘Who does he speak of?’ Amias asks.
‘We do not know, he cannot fully speak her name yet, but his mother and I have tried to probe him to speak further.’
‘Not necessary,’ I say. ‘Just let him mumble and we need not to worry. We will care for him, learn his disabilities, and work with him until he is Laven again, until he is our brother again.’
Laven’s legs give out and Morano cannot hold him. Amias and I ascend and catch him.
Amias is crying as he looks down at Laven’s lifeless body still mumbling gibberish we do not understand.
‘You both hold his upper half, I will take his legs, we need to take him to the bed. He should have never gotten out of it.’ I emphasize my final words so the Healer is aware that I do not believe he is performing his duties well enough.
When he gets into the bed I look at Morano and Amias. ‘He will be fine, we will be sure of it.’
Amias grabs Laven’s face, forcing him to look at him. ‘Remember who you are. You are Laven Hephaestus Arvenaldi, second of his name. You are an Heir to the Throne of Vaigon. The blood of Orviantes courses through your veins. You are our brother.’ His voice cracks. ‘I am Amias, your Right Hand. Roaner is your Assassin. Morano is your Emissary. We are The High Four. You are the Head of House Arvenaldi. You are to be King. Strong souled, Laven. Forever your bloodline will reign.’
Laven’s blue and hazel eyes stare into Amias’s as he speaks and his breathing is ragged as he opens his mouth to respond.
I hover above him, next to Amias. ‘Say it.’
He struggles.
We push him.
For the first time, I have the opportunity to attempt to use our mind link. ‘You are capable of it, now say it.’
He rapidly blinks as he looks at me and his hands begin to twitch. Morano grasps his hands again to calm his nerves.
He rapidly blinks as he looks at me and his hands begin to twitch. Morano grasps his hands again to calm his nerves.
‘We need you.’ I plead to only him. ‘Now say it unless you dare to leave us.’
His body jerks and Morano does not let go of his hands and Amias is still grasping his face.
‘Say it.’ And this time, I am not begging. I will not lose a brother.
His pale lips tremble as he searches for the words, his body continues to strain as he attempts to speak, nevertheless, he prevails. ‘S-st-str-str-strong s-sou-souled.’
Just as his father intended him to be.
Nothing will compare to the harrowing days of believing the person who brought us together would be leaving us.
“You think this will push him back there?” Amias asks.
“No,” I answer. “Not this, but now that we are aware of why he was imprisoned, we need to be aware of how much he is willing to put himself through for her alone. The name that he was calling that night was hers. He is in pain,” I can hear the deep resonance of my voice after a sip of the alcohol. “Today he thought he and Maivena were done with, so he acted out to be spiteful. If he learned from anything, it was that spitefulness will solve nothing, it will only result in worsening an already problematic situation. Yet, I do not see Maivena keeping away from him for long.”
“Ivella,” Amias mumbles. “Ivella Fondali.”
“Did you know she had a streak for winning The Quamfasian Games?” I ask. Their eyebrows raise before they both explain they did not. “Her streak only ended before being taken captive and brought here.”
“That does not take me by surprise,” Morano smiles. “Ivella is the daughter of one of the greatest Generals alive. She should reign as the greatest Warrior next to her father.”
“I would not expect Naius to raise a non-Warrior child.” Amias laughs.
As I go to continue our conversation, Ezra appears from ascension with Heshy.
I wave my hand for them to come closer and they approach the table we are sitting at in the courtyard.
“You both know Heshy,” I say to Amias and Morano. “This is Ezra.”
“Pleased to meet you Ezra,” Amias nods.
Morano and Ezra both exchange only a glance and say nothing.
I ignore it and stand from the table and Ezra follows me down the large path within the courtyard.
“Current status?”
“Complete,” Ezra confirms. “Within weeks they have arranged to meet me here in Vaigon Landing to watch the races of the Pegasi. I will continue to monitor them until they are officially here.”
“Excellent,” I reach into my pocket and give him his coin.
He glances over his shoulder at Morano but continues to walk with me to the exit of the courtyard.
“Keep me updated no matter the fact that we have a date set for them to return. I want to know their every footstep.”
“I will be sure to report it.”
Ezra begins to leave the courtyard, but I call out his name once more. “If you continue to thrive as an Emissary over the course of this season there is one more position for you to obtain.”
“And that is?”
“An Assassin,” I smile. “House Arvenaldi could use a second.”
