Serenity and Secrets (1)

Veridin drifted in and out of consciousness for the five days leading back to the palace thanks to Anaroth's mana. Occasionally he heard Anaroth muttering something, or Raven calling him. Half asleep, he had no control over his body, no sense of time or reason. At first, he would panic. Raven would try to calm him down but would always have to call Anaroth. Eventually, whenever he opened his eyes, he would only see a blur of red and silver. He himself didn't know why seeing Anaroth made him calmer.

He opened his eyes slowly. Familiar heaviness weighed down on his body and the folded blanket that was being used to prop up his head was still there. He shifted, then slowly sat up. His body ached, but his head began to clear. Anaroth spoke, but he couldn't make out the words. He only saw the concerned look in those ruby eyes.

"Am I awake now?"

"Seeing as this is the first time you're asking this, I think so." Veridin's hearing gradually cleared as Anaroth spoke.

"How long was I out?"

"Five days. We're almost at the palace."

"I see."

Veridin looked down. His eyelids were heavy and he felt calm. The rumbling of the carriage kept him from thinking. It was cozy. When had he ever been this relaxed before? He slowly closed his eyes. Just a little bit longer.

Veridin woke up to Anaroth shaking him awake. He jolted from the sudden contact and grabbed Anaroth by the throat before he realized what was happening. He slowly released his grip, but the red mark remained. "I apologize…"

Anaroth cleared his throat and lightly touched his neck. "No, it was my mistake. We're here."

Veridin nodded and stepped off the carriage. He stumbled when both feet hit the ground, but Raven caught him. Veridin gave a curt 'thank you' despite his embarrassment. He had already been taken care of by these two for five days. There was no use in being embarrassed. It was already late enough that the moon was high in the sky. Veridin turned back to Anaroth, watching his white hair shimmer in the moonlight as he stepped off the carriage.

"I'll contact you through Raven then."

"Of course."

"I'll go ahead." Veridin walked into the palace, leaving Raven beside Anaroth.

"Raven," Anaroth turned to him once Veridin was out of earshot, "If you have time after getting settled today, make him something that helps with sleeping."

Raven nodded and bowed. Then he followed Veridin inside. A moment later, Anaroth looked to the side at Rowan. "Did you have something to say?"

"I wanted to ask you about your relationship with his majesty."

"What about it?"

"Your majesty, what is Veridin truly like?"

Anaroth studied him for a moment. The contempt Rowan's eyes once held was replaced by respect. Even in the moonlight, his eyes were bright and full of life. "You are his brother in arms, aren't you? Shouldn't you know more than me?"

Rowan subconsciously rubbed his lame leg. "No… I believed, like the rest of the Empire, that Veridin was kind and just. That he couldn't stand the injustices in this world and would do whatever he could to stop them."

"Do you think otherwise now?"

"I'm not sure. I wanted to hear what you thought of him first."

"What I think of him will never be the same as you Sir Rowan."

"I know that. I just… Wanted to know the truth. He's not some holy knight is he?"

Anaroth paused, then shook his head. "No. Veridin has never been just, kind, or benevolent. He's cynical and cunning. But I think you knew that."

Rowan looked down and nodded. "Your majesty, he's changed since he met you."

"Has he? I've only known him this way." Anaroth walked away without another word.

Veridin leaned back in his chair. His office, of course, was as clean as always. There were no personal decorations. The only items he brought into this room were his growing collection of books. He sighed and pulled a piece of paper from the pile beside him. He skimmed over it and set it down. He tapped his finger on the desk. It was strange. There was so much work he had to do, and he could easily do it. He's worked days and nights on end before. The problem was that he didn't want to do it. He slowly placed the paper back onto the pile. When was the last time he truly slept? A year? Two years? He didn't know. He barely remembered anything about himself.

His head was strangely clear. Now that he was awake, he felt the control over his body he was familiar with. He leaned on the desk, remembering Anaroth's voice telling him to sleep. That calm voice repeated itself in his head. He couldn't think about anything else. He went to pick up the book he carried in with him when a single thought crossed his mind. Something he hadn't ever thought of towards anyone.

He slowly covered his mouth. It wasn't right, yet he couldn't stop thinking about it. His heart was racing, but it didn't feel bad. It felt wrong, but exciting. Suddenly, everything started to make sense. He let out a laugh. He had yet another reason to get rid of the church now.

Lowering his hand, he procured a piece of blank paper from the desk. He picked up the feathered pen from its stand and dipped into the recently opened ink well. Slowly, deliberately, he wrote flowing letter after letter. He stared down at the paper with a smile. A single word stained the paper; a name. Yet he smiled as if he were seeing the first flower of spring blooming. He cleaned up the station mindlessly, lost in thought.

A knock at the door broke his thoughts. The lack of presence told him precisely who it was. "Come in."

Raven opened the door, carrying a tray in one hand. The tray had a cup and a teapot on it. He stepped into the room silently. "Are you sleeping in here, your majesty?"

"No," Veridin stood up, "You can follow me to my room."

"As you wish."

Veridin stepped out into the hallway. The sound of his boots was the only sound being made. Veridin was quite fond of nights like this: Quiet and serene, bathed in moonlight. Before he became king, he would often go on midnight strolls when no one else was awake. They were different than today however. Veridin opened the door to his bedroom.

The room was the same as his office. Clean and depersonalized. In fact, he had only been in this room three times total. Moonlight filtered in through the curtains as Raven set the tray on the table.

"Please drink this and try to sleep. There's more in the pot if one cup isn't enough. I'll take my leave then, your majesty."

Veridin turned around, but Raven had disappeared without a trace. He sighed. What a strange feeling, to have people take care of you. He ran his finger along the lip of the cup before lifting it from the tray. It didn't feel bad. The only thing that pained him was the guilt in his stomach. Warm tea washed down his throat, followed by the scent and taste of honey. He set the empty cup down and began to change. It was a useless routine, at least that's what he thought before. Right now, he didn't mind doing useless things. He laid down, shifting and turning. Eventually he laid facing away from the door, staring at the faint light coming through the window. The slivers of silver eased his mind while silence and warmth lulled him to sleep.

Veridin woke up to the sound of birds. Raven had pulled back the curtains to let sunlight into the room. He stared at the curtains before slowly sitting up. Raven picked up the tray and glanced at him.

"Breakfast is ready, your majesty."

Veridin inhaled slowly. He wasn't in a suffocating tent filled with the smell of iron and mud, nor was he laying on cold stone covered in cuts and bruises. He was in a decorated castle filled with guards of the highest rank. His closest aid was an assassin that could deal with any intruders. There was no reason for him to be afraid of sleeping. Now that his head was clear, that was painfully obvious. He stood up and stretched.

"Raven, bring my breakfast to my room. Tell Anaroth that he should tour the capital and commence the plan. And," He glanced at the curtains, "Change the curtains to red."

"I understand. Would you like a cup each night?" Raven turned his eyes away from the curtains.

"Yes. I'll trust you to take care of that. You may go."

Raven nodded. He slipped out of the room and began to walk confidently down the hallway. He had only been here one day, but the maids and servants that saw him greeted him with smiles. It wasn't because they knew him well, it was because he was capable, and on a lesser note handsome. One day was enough to demonstrate his status as a courtier.

He stepped into the busy kitchen. First, he poured out the pot of cold tea to be cleaned. Then he pulled a servant from the hallway to bring his majesty breakfast. Once those were done, he walked into the dining room where Anaroth was eating silently. He walked up and bowed.

"His majesty suggests you take a tour of the capital. The church is having a service today."

Anaroth raised his hand. "Alright." Raven was a fine attendant. In fact, he was so capable that it was strange. Has he been someone's servant before? Anaroth shook his head. Veridin wanted him to start the plan as soon as possible. Knowing Veridin, he would garner public recognition by any means necessary. Anaroth knit his brows; Thinking about Veridin made him frustrated. He finished his breakfast and stood up.

"Prepare a carriage. I'm going out."

Anaroth stood on the street with a shadow over his face. Whether from the parasol or not, a passerby couldn't tell. In front of him, Galwund zipped from one place to another. When he turned around with a smile, Anaroth could practically see a wagging tail behind him. Galwund had been the guard Raven had personally picked out for him. Anaroth didn't know if he should have cursed Raven or Veridin, but he couldn't deny that he felt more at ease.

"Sir Anaroth, look at this!" Galwund pointed at a few cakes on display.

"Is it really that interesting?" Anaroth walked up and glanced at the cakes.

"Well I've never had cake before. It's really pretty." He chuckled nervously and scratched his head. "Since I got put into the imperial guard on his majesty's recommendation, I finally have enough money to buy one."

Anaroth lowered his pocket watch. "Veridin put you in the imperial guard?"

"Yes! And Sir Rowan is a great instructor. Your majesty, are you and his majesty close?"

"Close? We aren't–" He paused. Since they left the festival he had been unconsciously speaking Veridin's name openly. "It's just easier for us to get rid of honorifics."

That was a lie, but Galwund held no wariness in him. "I see! Since it's awkward to call him his majesty when you're also your majesty."

Anaroth slumped over. "You can just call me Sir Anaroth when we're alone. I'd appreciate it if you didn't attract extra attention."

Galwund glanced around. Sure enough, several eyes were looking over at them. Anaroth's striking silver hair couldn't be completely hidden in the shadow of his parasol. Though it was good to catch the public eye, Anaroth couldn't help but shiver. He felt unbelievably vulnerable. For a moment, he felt himself missing someone by his side.

"I'm sorry Sir Anaroth." Galwund looked down. "Um, did you say you were going to the church? I know the way there."

"Then let's go." Anaroth began to walk in the direction of the church. Galwund stumbled after him, dejected.

"Sir Anaroth, I'm useless to you aren't I?"

He turned around and flinched. Galwund stared at him with large hazel eyes akin to a puppy's. He looked nothing like an imperial guard, nor did he behave in a manner befitting of the title. His messy, curly locks covered his ears and almost covered his eyes. At a glance, Anaroth could see a pair of drooping ears on either side of his head. To make matters worse, there was something about his hair that was compelling to touch.

Anaroth reached his hand up, hesitantly putting it on Galwund's head. Galwund was only about a head shorter than Anaroth, but it felt as though he was reaching down and petting a soft dog. Anaroth could barely mask his satisfaction in his words as he ruffled Galwund's hair.

"You're of great help to me just being here."

He paused, then beamed. "I'm glad I can help you Sir Anaroth!"

Anaroth reluctantly removed his hand from the fluffy mess. He turned away quickly and began to walk. He couldn't bear to look at such innocence after dealing with Veridin for the last five days. It was far too blinding. Galwund's startled call from behind him tugged at his heartstrings but he didn't look back.

He had regained his composure by the time they had reached the church. Dozens of people were going in and out of the church. There were even people kneeling outside the church. They slowly made their way through the crowd. Once inside, Anaroth closed his parasol and handed it to Galwund.

Unlike his first time here, the pews were packed full of people praying. In the front, behind a lectern, was an imposing grayed man. His face was full of wrinkles and eyes that held a sharpness all too familiar to Anaroth. When their eyes met, Anaroth felt an instant of suffocation. Hatred and contempt; arrogance and confidence; those were the only emotions in his eyes. Anaroth clenched his fists, stopping them from shaking. He exhaled slowly, there was nothing to fear. He started to listen to the preaching.

"And so the Goddess Herivex gave her blessings to Ollen, giving him a sword and cleansing his body of its impurities. That is why we must pray. We must cleanse our bodies of the impurities that we breathe each day. We must remain holy so that the Goddess accepts our souls when we perish. That is why we must cleanse our bodies in the holy fire when we pass. Souls tainted by mana will be burned. They will be subjected to the holy fire for eons. Be grateful! Offer your prayers to the Goddess in your gratitude. Your bodies do not hold on to such a sin, but still you must pray. Pray for those who cannot cleanse themselves. Pray for the souls that are suffering. Pray for all the lost lambs of the world."

He closed the book and stepped down from behind the lectern. Anaroth bristled with rage. What lengthy drivel that was. He had blatantly insulted demons! Not just demons, but everything in the world. There wasn't a thing in this world that didn't have mana: except humans. Now he understood why this war had gone on so long.

Galwund muttered behind him, "Is his majesty going to suffer when he dies? Just because he can use magic?"

Anaroth wanted to respond but the priest approached them. "You must be the Demon King? I have heard tell of your startling appearance many times. I have to say, you are as unmistakable as Veridin. I am Malas, the high priest of this church."

He grit his teeth at the disrespect. "How strange, high priest, are you and his majesty of familial terms? To use his name so casually must mean you are close, yet I have never heard him speak of you that way."

The high priest narrowed his eyes. "Of course we are close. I see Veridin as my own son."

"A father sends his son off to war on purpose?"

"Going to war was his way of atoning to the goddess. It was not his fault that he was born with mana. Have you come here to atone or have you come here to spit in the face of these believers?"

Anaroth glanced at the people around. The commotion had roused a few people to stare. He looked back at the high priest. He couldn't tell if he was dealing with Malas, or Veridin. The resemblance between the two was uncanny. There was one difference between them, Veridin looked at him with calm, amused eyes. The only thing staring at Anaroth now was cold disdain. The high priest was old and experienced in using his words.

"I'm not spitting in anyone's face. I simply wonder if such conventional thinking is conducive to the treaty I signed with the Empire. You use mana in daily items do you not? It's really curious."

"If you are curious, then I can give you a copy of the goddess's teachings. Even though you are a demon, I'm sure if you pray vehemently the goddess will accept you with open arms.

Anaroth forced a smile. Malas was twisting his words around every time he spoke. No matter what he said, it would look like he was in support of the church. He bit his tongue. What could he say? Suddenly, he had an idea.

"Ah, Sir Galwund, you had questions regarding the teachings of the church right? This is a great opportunity to ask." Anaroth turned to Galwund with an expectant smile. If knowledge doesn't work, ignorance might.

"Huh? Oh! Well… If His Majesty was born with magic, then does that mean no matter how hard he works, he'll have to suffer when he dies?"

"If he works hard enough then the goddess will see that."

"Then when you said the goddess cleansed um, Ollen, was it because of his hard work? Why didn't she cleanse all creatures of mana then?"

"The goddess exhausted her power when she cleansed Ollen. She returned to slumber and tasked him with spreading her teachings."

"Then couldn't we find her and ask her to cleanse the rest of the world?"

The high priest froze. "No one knows where the goddess slumbers."

"Why didn't you send his majesty to find her instead of going to war?" Galwund tilted his head.

The believers around them had begun to listen in, also questioning why they had chosen war instead of finding the goddess. The high priest glanced at Anaroth in disgust. The tension was broken when Saint Lilis approached.

"That is because it would be sacrilegious to wake the Goddess. Even if we found her, that place would be deemed a holy land that only the highest members of the clergy could set foot in." Lilis bowed briefly then clasped her hands together. "Greetings your majesty, high priest."

"Saint Lilis, how have you been since we last met?"

She glanced at the high priest before smiling at Anaroth. "I've been just fine. How have you been? Did my prayers reach you?"

"I've had quite an interesting week, but I am otherwise healthy."

"Since Lilis is here, my presence is no longer necessary. Guide them well Lilis," Malas spoke curtly, giving Anaroth a disrespectful glare before walking away.

"Yes, your holiness."

Anaroth watched him walk away with disgust. "Is he always like that?"

"His holiness? Well… I believe it would be best to speak elsewhere. Shall we?"

He glanced around at all the curious eyes before smiling. "Please, lead the way."