[ one of your very first memories, as old as old can be, is sitting on your father's knee as he told you the story of house ravus.
the ravus line is as long and as storied as the continent itself. to be the head of house ravus - as you are destined to be, rondo, he says, tucking your curly hair out of your eyes - is to protect, to give your life down the line to care for the treasures of this continent, the five dragonstones of innumerable power kept safe in your family's vault. it is a sacred duty, one that will involve you learning to fight and defend yourself, to take care of those stones and ensure they never fall into evil hands.
it is the great honor and duty of the ravus family to protect this continent, and despite the weight, you find yourself enamored with this concept. with daydreams of knights dancing in your head, you swear to yourself that you will be as strong as every ravus who came before you, and even stronger.
so you promise your father you'll take to training with the sword with exuberance and enthusiasm. you pick up the practice blade, and at five years old, you start to swing.
--
when you are thirteen, give or take, your mother and father are killed.
you don't know much about it - only that their stagecoach was ambushed by a group of mercenaries, maybe by bandits. there are whispers of assassins, of family betrayals from other members of the ravus line, but you only hear them because you pay attention. to be a ravus is to be in danger. it is the nature of the beast.
days later, with no lord ravus to guard them, it comes to light that the dragonstones have been stolen from the ravus estate. it's a prophecy foretold, a realization of the lesson of importance that the lord ravus truly holds. just like that, all five stones are gone, vanished into the hands of gods only knows who or what, and of course you could do nothing about it - you're still too young, too green, too little.
the only thing anyone tells you, now that you've been orphaned, is that your retainers will continue to care for you. heathcote, your butler, takes guardianship over you and cordelia both, and the maids fuss over your funeral clothes and your hair. they apologize to you, tell you it's okay to cry, but, rondo, try not to cry at the funeral, alright? they are kind, but you are the man of the house, now, the final male heir to a heavy mantle, and you have to be strong. you have to be strong, because you aren't strong just for you.
you have to be strong for cordelia.
cordelia, your younger sister, cordelia, only nine years old. while you could easily restate the duty of the ravuses to anyone when you were young, the first time you truly understood what it meant to want to protect something was the day your teary eyed mother placed cordelia in your arms as a newborn. she was so tiny, so fragile, and it was when she curled her tiny fingers around one of yours that you knew exactly what it meant, to want to protect.
as you've grown, the two of you are the spitting image of your mother and father. same blonde hair, same piercingly bright blue eyes, same rounded features; you are the pride of the ravus family, and while you have always had each other, it has never felt more pressing than it does right now.
so, after the funeral, you feel that calling of love and duty when cordelia stares up at you with her wet, round eyes, when the two of you finally get a moment alone, away from mourners or well-wishers or thieves alike. cordelia settles close to you, and holds onto your sleeve, and says in her soft, sad voice: "Big brother...I... I get a little sad sometimes, when I remember mom and dad. And then, I can't stop crying.""
it is in this moment, your own heart broken and heavy with the loss of your mother and father, that things clarify even further. the dragonstones are gone, right now, and the other ravus treasures do not and could not compare to your little sister's life, to the close family you still have.
this is your duty. you step forward and you embrace her, pulling her into your arms and pressing your cheek to the top of her head as she sniffles, curling her fingers in your waistcoat. and you say, softly, soothing and genuine: ] ...It's okay, Cordelia. I'll protect you, no matter what - so don't cry.
[ cordelia sniffles your name and buries her face in your chest, and you make a promise to yourself, to the world, to the gods up above your head.
you will protect your sister. you will get strong enough and get the dragonstones back, one by one if you have to. you will learn, you will learn, you will learn.
so long as i am weak, nothing i hold dear is safe. ]
--
a few months after the funeral, around your thirteenth birthday, heathcote leaves on business for something - he tells you, and only you, it's to track down a rumor of the location of one of the dragonstones, and leaves you in the capable care of the rest of the house staff. you always miss heathcote when he's not there, but life in the house moves on. you attend your lessons, both of the book and the sword, you attend to your sister, you eat delicious meals and live your daily life in bolderfall, waiting for heathcote's return with hope in your heart that the family treasure can soon be restored, that maybe the next time, heathcote will bring you with him.
however, the dragonstones are not the only treasure of the ravus family. the family itself is wealthy - the wealthiest family in bolderfall, if not one of the wealthiest in all of the cliftlands beyond the royalty of edoras themselves. and in the end, it is not continent-ending forces coming to destroy the world who knock down your doors. it's just a set of regular bandits. hungry, mean looking men who cut down your swordmanship coach like it's nothing, who murder all of your retainers still in the home, and who corner you and cordelia in the main hall of the manor, who ransack the place for whatever gold they can carry. they've made their intentions clear - they will kidnap you and your sister, and hold you for ransom, to bleed house ravus dry. high houses rise and fall all the time in orsterra. it's just the nature of life.
cordelia is trembling like a leaf as three of the bandits regard you and your sister in the front hall. and you - this is what you've been training for, isn't it?
you put yourself in front of cordelia, your arms protectively out in front of her.
(truthfully? you are terrified. you've only ever fought straw dummies and sparred with your coach. you've never fought a real person before, you've never swung this sword when your life was on the line - you are thirteen years old, and you are terrified. )
"Rondo," cordelia whispers, her voice reedy and thin, her fingers curling in the back of your coat. you shake your head, your heart pounding, and you take a deep breath, and you say, steady as you can: ] It's okay, Cordelia. I made a promise.
[ because you did. you promised her, you swore you would protect her, and you feel it burning so intensely in your chest, so deeply rooted within you that you will, you will, you will, you will be strong for her, you will protect her even if it kills you in the process. that's what it means to be a ravus. it means to protect the things that matter to you.
you drop your hands, and you reach for the small sword you've carried for years, now.
the bandit regards you, thirteen years old and full of bravado, and shrugs. "Sorry, kid, but we've got no choice here. If you wanna blame anything...blame the fact that you were born into a rich family."
the bandits laugh at their boss's line, cruel and mean, but you barely hear them over the blood roaring in your ears.
it's fear and adrenaline and pure courage, pure love for your sister, as you draw your sword and slide your foot back like you've been taught, strong stance, ravus bloodline, courageous knight. your hands are shaking so hard your sword barely holds straight, and you don't care, because you made a promise, and you repeat - ] I will... protect you...
[ the cruel laughter stops. the leader of the bandits suddenly rushes forward and you don't think "i'm going to die", you think, I will protect you I will protect you IwillprotectyouIwillprotectyou and you push off on one foot --
-- and then there's the shing of unsheathed steel, of the clash of a dagger against a blade, and you're dazed with the sudden realization that standing in front of you is a a man.
you don't know where he came from. you don't know who he is, but he drives the bandit backwards away from you like it's effortless, and it feels like the entire world stops as you stare up at him. broad shoulders, silver hair around him like a halo, that shining, holy sword in his hand. he switches his grip to one handed, effortlessly, draws out his left hand, and his voice rings out like the choir of an angel.
"Come, my flame - and engulf all who oppose me!"
and the man - the knight - summons a flame into his palm, as pure and azure blue as the sky, and you realize from your studies and sheer instinct alone that the man is wielding the sacred flame itself. it takes over the blade of his sword, blazing brilliant, and you, cordelia, even the bandits, you all gasp. there's a flash of steel and that bright blue light rings out, holy, pure, clean, so bright you're forced to close your eyes, and when they open again, the three bandits are dead on the floor, and the man points his sword at the leader, imperious and strong.
you exhale outwards, staring up at him, stunned. awestruck.
rondo ravus, you think you might be in love. ]
You... [ you breathe, slowly, full of a thousand questions and a thousand words and nothing else to say. the man pauses, and turns to you as he sheathes his sword. his face is stunning, carved out of marble, cool features, his eyes as bright and azure blue as the flame that struck outwards just moments before.
the knight regards you.
"Boy..." says the man, his gaze sweeping over you and your sword, and you feel - judged and seen all at once, and you feel the urge to straighten up and puff out your chest but you aren't sure if you can even move. you lift your chin up a little further, heart still pounding, the best you can manage, still staring wide eyed up at the man who became your savior.
the knight folds his arms and you realize what you see on his face, in his blazing brilliant blue eyes, as he raises an eyebrow.
the knight, your savior, beautiful and strong, looks you dead in the eyes, rondo ravus, and he says: "...You've got the makings of the Flame, in you."
the look in that man's eyes is approval.
your heart stops. unconsciously, you shiver. every hair on the back of your neck stands up.
and it is in that moment, staring at the man - who you come to know is sazantos, the flameguard, the holiest and most important position in the hallowed knights ardante - that you know what you want to do with the rest of your life. that you know what strength is. that you've seen it, personified.
that it saw you.
and you will do everything in your power to take his words to heart. ]
[ when the memory ends, rondo looks... stunned, and then... his expression shifts into something softer, a little nostalgic. sad, too, if mathis is really looking. ]
it's so much. losing so much, having so much on his shoulders, so much at stake. that's a kind of weight that mathis has a hard time imagining, with the kind of life that he's led.]
he smiles? it's a little bit bittersweet, but he shakes his head. ]
No... no. This - this was the day I knew that I was going to become a Knight Ardante. [ it's never felt heavy. not to him, not once. the loss of the people in his family and the loss of the dragonstones, the pressing need to get those back, the desire to protect his sister - these are the burdens his shoulders were built for. not only that, but rondo thinks back to this memory so often, even now. it's nice, to see something he doesn't feel awful about for the one (1) tag i am allowing before i drop the other memory in. ]
I wanted to live up to the words that he said to me, so I asked him if I could be his apprentice. [ a beat, and he laughs. ] He said no. But, he ended up giving me advice on my swordsmanship right then, so... I started working harder, and I was inducted as his successor and apprentice a few years later. He changed my life.
[mathis smiles at that, as well; he doesn't miss the bittersweet touch, there, but- many things are like that, aren't they. there's not much that doesn't come without some sadness.
he is probably assuming this man is dead, is the thing.]
[ well. he's going to answer. something nice - even if it's complicated. but, the void sort of wriggles, and the shadows decide to answer for him. ]
[ years and years later, it's a normal day when you rise early to see sazantos off.
the reports came in by raven a few days ago from king richard - the final ring of the eight rings of the gods has finally been taken back from its monstrously powerful master, the empress tatloch, courtesy of the ringbearer chosen, and her majesty queen alaune. the most important duty of the flameguard - to gather the rings and save them from evil hands - is ready to be performed. the forces of the continent united together against the evil designs of many, and even you had a part in it.
you've spent the past week or so closely monitoring sir sazantos, even if he waves you off and grumbles about it. after all, the two of you assisted in returning the rings back, retrieving the ring of dohter the charitable after a betrayal within the church where ceraphina revealed herself to have her hands on the accursed flame, the dark opposite of the sacred flame, powered by a false god. the fight with ceraphina was incredibly difficult, and worse, you know sazantos was injured in it - even though he bounced back with aplomb, something was off.
truthfully, you aren't surprised he bounced back, because sir sazantos is and always has been the most amazing, talented knight you've ever had the pleasure to know. he's the flameguard, the paragon of goodness and righteousness, and to you, rondo ravus, sazantos is your everything.
whether he remembers it or not, he saved your life, once upon a time, and it set the course of your future. it was his words - you've got the makings of the flame in you that struck you to your core when you first met him, thirteen years old and desperately trying to defend your sister from bandits that attacked your house. you swore to get stronger, to be like him, to learn from him, and he accepted you as his apprentice - as his future successor, and you've fought by his side for a few years now. every word of his praise, his recognition, sparing as they are, is what you live for. the beauty of his azure sacred flame struck your heart and soul when you first met him. you've probably been in love with him, though you're only distantly aware of that fact, since first sight.
sazantos is everything you want to be, and your entire world revolves around him, nowadays. so seeing him hurt that badly - and you have never seen him hurt that badly - terrified you. but, he patched himself up, and now you stand at the frosty doors of the cathedral in flamesgrace, trying not to yawn lest you are scolded for it, the sun peeking over the edge of the mountains as sazantos prepares to leave at dawn. it was your choice to get up this early to see him off, ever the dutiful right hand.
sazantos glances back at you as he's strapping his sword to his belt, and you smile at him and wish him a safe trip. he's heading to the isle of orsa to oversee the sealing of the eight rings of power along with the others, and there's no need for you to be there. sazantos, guardian of the continent, guardian of the light, is more than enough.
there's a moment where he regards you, a long pause. instinctively, you straighten a little bit under his gaze like you have done for the past ten years, like you are being scrutinized. you wonder what he sees. you wonder what else to say. what he'll say.
and in the end, he says nothing at all - sazantos turns around and heads off into the sunrise, and you finally release the yawn you were holding the entire time and shuffle back inside for some well earned sleep before your morning training begins.
--
by the time you rise again and perform your usual morning routine - swordsmanship practice, physical training - you receive a summons from a harried looking messenger to hurry to the cathedral at once. that's not that unusual, but it usually just means a mission, so you strap your sword to your side and jog into the cathedral.
awaiting you is the pontiff and captain hugo, the leader of the knights ardante, and they both look - grim. the pontiff holds a paper in his hands. ]
... Sirs? [ you say, after you bow - hand to your heart, low to the ground, traditional and polite as always. but there's something rising in your gut that feels ominous and you stare down at the carpet for a long moment before you rise to a fully standing position. you feel your heart still pounding, underneath your glove.
"...Rondo." says the captain, waving off your gesture. he looks uneasily to the pontiff, who bows his head.
"Rondo. I would like to make for Castle Edoras with the utmost haste." the pontiff tells you, in his gentle voice, as kind and serving as he always is, but the more you stare at him, the more you can see something etched into the lines of his wizened face. and it's not just him, it's the captain, too they both look - you don't even know how to describe it, but something is wrong. ]
... Of course, sir. May I ask what the mission entails...? [ you murmur, looking between the captain and the pontiff, brows knitting together in worry, clueless.
the pontiff closes his eyes briefly before he regards you. he takes a deep breath, in and out.
"...There has been an incident. Upon the imminent sealing of the eight rings of power at the Isle of Orsa, we have been informed that the pinky finger of the Ring Maidens murdered the other fingers of the hand. Additionally, the sealing of the eight rings was attended to by Finis, Father of All, and Finis - " there's a pause, here. his holiness looks at you, and there's something so, so sad in his wise eyes as he continues, "Finis was killed by Sazantos, who summoned the Accursed Flame, and stole the rings. The report dictates that he and Signa opened a portal likely to Hell, and have declared their intentions to destroy humanity as we know it."
the words slam into you like a ton of bricks.
you stare at the pontiff, at hugo, dumbly. all thoughts of politeness and manners are forgotten as the sum total of every part of his report comes together, piece by piece in your head.
sazantos. sazantos, your mentor, your teacher, your entire world, the paragon of goodness and protection, the paragon of personhood, the protector of the rings and guardian of the continent, the strongest person you've ever known, the person who could summon the purest, bluest sacred flame you have ever seen - sazantos betrayed them?
your heart stops. you think the world around you stops, too.
the pontiff says, softly, "...I'm sorry, Rondo."
you barely hear it.
you think - you think, you have to be dreaming. you think this has to be some sort of horrible nightmare, that if you just pinch yourself, you'll startle awake, that sazantos will be staring ominously over you, disapproving that you've slept in thirty seconds too late, that everything is normal and this is just a horrific, awful dream. you think, somewhat hysterically, that your knees must be giving out.
you realize, a second later, that your knees are giving out, because hugo is there to catch you before you hit the ground. you clutch onto his arms, the sensation of being dazed giving way to a dam breaking, as your vision goes blurry and your breath hitches and you start to sob.
it's not on purpose. you can't even stop yourself - you can't hold it together in front of the pontiff, you can't hold it together in front of your captain, as your entire world comes crashing down around your ears.
--
you make your way out of the cathedral in a daze, tasked with your new mission, and for a long moment, you lift your head and stare up at the snowy skies. edoras is a long ride away, and you need to get going - find a horse, get saddled up and rush as fast as you can make it to the side of queen alaune and king richard, but standing here makes you remember.
you have had thousands of conversations with sazantos right here, in front of these cathedral doors. you have seen him summon up his flame - the purest, blazing blue in the world - a thousand times. you have seen him use it to vanquish evil, use it to banish ceraphina's shadow from the world, used it to protect you, not once, but twice. your entire life has been about following his greatness - about becoming like him, about living up to the words he told you once.
you've got the makings of the flame in you, he had said to you, when you were just thirteen years old.
and now sazantos' flame was gone. ]
[ by the time you make it to edoras, you are invited into the throne room by the queen's retainer, and you find yourself standing among some of the greatest heroes of the continent. the king of riven, the king of altinia, the queen of edoras, the lord of grandport. there's a man you don't recognize, and the ringbearer chosen, who looks worried, and finally - there's rinyuu, a very familiar face, a cleric of the church. she looks heartbroken, her expression crumpling when she sees you before she smooths it over. it makes you want to cry, too, because you know - you know she has to understand.
(she loved sazantos too, you know. he helped save her life barely a month ago, and you did too. you've eaten her delicious meals together, you've prayed together. and rinyuu - rinyuu is the kindest person in the entire world. she might be the only person in this room whose heart hurts the same way yours does.)
the rest of the group greets you warmly. alaune invites you to join them, as one of the guardians of light - an honor that should feel world-changing feels so hollow, now, knowing the place that you are taking, knowing who used to stand there. she lists her reasons: that you're pure of heart, that you've gone so far as to help gather the rings back despite all dangers. and that you're familiar with the enemy. it should make you feel proud. praised. worthy.
you just feel empty.
you look down at your hands. ]
I... am still struggling to come to terms with what this 'enemy' [ because you can't - you still can't call him that. you don't know if you ever could. it has to be a misunderstanding. a mistake. the phrase enemy feels like bile in your mouth. you swallow around a lump in your throat and continue. ] - has done. He was my teacher, and...
[ you think of him looking at you when you dispatched the bandits on the road to the garrison. you think of the approval in his bright blue eyes.
"There it is... what I saw in you when we first met. That same spark lights your eyes once more."
you think of him looking on when you were anointed. you think of the unmatched, unbridled joy you felt when sazantos finally, finally accepted you as his apprentice. not because you asked, but because you earned it.
"I expect great things of you, Rondo."
you swallow. ]
... and someone very dear to me.
[ sazantos' strong back, his azure flame, rescuing you from certain death when you were young, has always been in front of you. his vicious training methods have made you strong, have helped you grow as a knight, as a person. he denied you to be his apprentice but beckoned you to challenge him anyway, expected that you could rise to his greatness, saw the strength in you that you so desperately wanted to have. his cool expression, his calm demeanor, his overwhelmingly admirable strength, the way he protects the weak and the sick. his aloof tendencies, his sharp tongue, his occasionally over-dramatic monologue - you even love those - his pure, pure blue sacred flame.
you exhale.
and you clutch one hand over your heart, and you leap the mental hurdle and say with force, with passion - ] And, that is the very reason I must humbly accept your offer. I am a Knight Ardante, and as such, it is my duty to keep watch over the Sacred Flame, no matter where it leads.
[ and in this case, that it might lead to hell is no exaggeration. you're brimming with this overwhelming feeling, with duty and necessity and grief and the desire to understand. to influence, maybe. to help.
the group agrees to research some of the scholarship around the gates to hell, and you volunteer to go with king solon, immediately. you want to stop him, to save the world, of course. but selfishly, you have to know what changed him.
you have to. so, as the guardian of light, the not-quite-the-flameguard, you join the crusade to stop sazantos once and for all. ]
[oh, that one is heavier, and-- now he understands why he'd looked sad. not gone, but... a traitor. turned against him, for some reason, making an enemy of someone he'd admired so much, and it's...]
Rondo, how... how can you be...
[he's still so bright, all the time. after all of this. mathis didn't go through half of this and when he arrived here, he was still so-- incapable. afraid. unable to stand straight.]
when this memory clears, rondo holds still like he's waiting for another one. that's not the end of his tale, of course, and nothing comes - when nothing comes, he exhales, and he glances to his side to mathis.
there's a beat, and he offers him a smile. it's a little sadder than usual, but no less gentle. ]
I walk with the Flame. [ a simple answer, as he reaches up to touch his own heart. ] And I follow my heart. No matter what.
[ ah... this - flusters him a little? he ducks his head, and shakes it. ]
... Well, I don't know about that. I try to be. It's something I've always wanted. [ to be strong. the very thing he's chased since that fateful day he met sazantos - something he feels like he's never actually truly achieved. ] I still have a really long way to go.
But, your words are kind, Mathis. [ a dip of his head. ] Thank you.
[ oh this is. this is a lot. rondo's first thought is confusion, and then - betrayal, that he feels alongside mathis, that awful feeling of when you thought someone you loved cared for you, when your heart breaks to find it was a lie all along. he reaches up, subconsciously, hand touching the back of his own neck.
someone created, formed of many parts. the horror of "you're my expendable guinea pig", the heartbreak mathis feels. what's more human that? what could possibly be more human than that? he thinks of someone else who reacted far worse to a similar story, and he swallows, hard, drops his hand. ]
...Mathis...
[ he's just. stunned? stunned, and heartbroken for him, almost too shocked to speak. ] How... how utterly cruel.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
week 2 monday
[ when the memory ends, rondo looks... stunned, and then... his expression shifts into something softer, a little nostalgic. sad, too, if mathis is really looking. ]
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[that's all so-
it's so much. losing so much, having so much on his shoulders, so much at stake. that's a kind of weight that mathis has a hard time imagining, with the kind of life that he's led.]
That must have been... heavy.
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he smiles? it's a little bit bittersweet, but he shakes his head. ]
No... no. This - this was the day I knew that I was going to become a Knight Ardante. [ it's never felt heavy. not to him, not once. the loss of the people in his family and the loss of the dragonstones, the pressing need to get those back, the desire to protect his sister - these are the burdens his shoulders were built for. not only that, but rondo thinks back to this memory so often, even now. it's nice, to see something he doesn't feel awful about for the one (1) tag i am allowing before i drop the other memory in. ]
I wanted to live up to the words that he said to me, so I asked him if I could be his apprentice. [ a beat, and he laughs. ] He said no. But, he ended up giving me advice on my swordsmanship right then, so... I started working harder, and I was inducted as his successor and apprentice a few years later. He changed my life.
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[mathis smiles at that, as well; he doesn't miss the bittersweet touch, there, but- many things are like that, aren't they. there's not much that doesn't come without some sadness.
he is probably assuming this man is dead, is the thing.]
He seems like he was- very important to you.
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[oh, that one is heavier, and-- now he understands why he'd looked sad. not gone, but... a traitor. turned against him, for some reason, making an enemy of someone he'd admired so much, and it's...]
Rondo, how... how can you be...
[he's still so bright, all the time. after all of this. mathis didn't go through half of this and when he arrived here, he was still so-- incapable. afraid. unable to stand straight.]
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when this memory clears, rondo holds still like he's waiting for another one. that's not the end of his tale, of course, and nothing comes - when nothing comes, he exhales, and he glances to his side to mathis.
there's a beat, and he offers him a smile. it's a little sadder than usual, but no less gentle. ]
I walk with the Flame. [ a simple answer, as he reaches up to touch his own heart. ] And I follow my heart. No matter what.
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[mathis couldn't have taken it. he couldn't, through all that.]
... you're so strong.
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... Well, I don't know about that. I try to be. It's something I've always wanted. [ to be strong. the very thing he's chased since that fateful day he met sazantos - something he feels like he's never actually truly achieved. ] I still have a really long way to go.
But, your words are kind, Mathis. [ a dip of his head. ] Thank you.
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[before he can say anything else, though...
rondo gets hit with a memory this time.
and then another one.]
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someone created, formed of many parts. the horror of "you're my expendable guinea pig", the heartbreak mathis feels. what's more human that? what could possibly be more human than that? he thinks of someone else who reacted far worse to a similar story, and he swallows, hard, drops his hand. ]
...Mathis...
[ he's just. stunned? stunned, and heartbroken for him, almost too shocked to speak. ] How... how utterly cruel.