Only a True King

Chapter 6

Someone was in the manor. Ranni could sense her traps going off along the path to her tower. No more captured cuckoo knights guarded her ancestral home. Every single one of them had woken up all at once and ran from the manor. Afterwards she had also found Seluvis’s secret storehouse. She had never been fond of the man, merely keeping him around for his knowledge of the eternal cities, but what she had found down there made her sick. She did not flinch at compelling prisoners of war to serve as her guards, it was their fault for attempting their treasonous invasion, but what Seluvis had been doing was hideous perversity. Maybe this was her punishment for allowing this to go on as long as she had, for some unknown invader to be the one to finally kill her.

Well, whoever it was would find a fight waiting for them. Even though Blaidd was out gathering information on the new Elden Lord, she was still Ranni the Witch, last princess of Caria. She would not fall so easily. The elevator descended and she heard someone step onto the pressure plate, bringing it back up. Ranni carried a staff designed to look like a blade, much like her mother’s, though hers was far smaller, able to be slipped into her voluminous sleeves like a dagger. She palmed it discreetly, readying it in case things went spectacularly poorly.

It was somewhat difficult to see the invader’s face under her wide brimmed hat, but they wore the armor of a Black Knife assassin. She stiffened, tightening her hand on her dagger.

“I do not recall penning any letters of invitation to my home, stranger. If thou hast no business with me I would ask thee to leave.”

“It is truly thee.” The stranger let their hood down and reddish blond hair fell to their shoulders. Their voice was not one she recognized but yet there was something hauntingly familiar within it. “I believed thee dead along with thy brother, killed during the Night of Black Knives.”

Whoever this stranger was, they were well behind the times. Most of the major players knew of Ranni’s involvement in the Night of Black Knives, and a few among that number knew of Rykard and Godwyn’s involvements as well, but this stranger was still going off of pre-shattering information. In fact it seemed as if the very moment the ring was broken was the point at which their memory ended. Ranni did not endeavor to correct them. She knew when to push an advantage.

“Dost thou intend to offend me with thy over familiarity or art thou merely a fool who knows not whom they address.”

“Canst thou truly not recognize me?” Ranni squinted her single eye, lifting the brim of her hat. Her vision through her glass doll’s eye was far more limited than she would have liked. The face before her was one half recognized as if through the fog of a dream, but the curious expression on their face, it was one she identified immediately.

“Father?” It couldn’t be. Marika’s order had fallen, Radagon ought to have been destroyed along with it.

“It’s been a long time, my dear daughter.” Ranni dropped her staff and jumped from the stack of books piled onto her chair. The god of order opened their arms. Ranni stretched out all four of her own and wrapped her hands around their neck.

“How dare thee!” They attempted to tear her porcelain hands away. “Was it thy hope that I would welcome thee back with open arms? After what thou didst to my mother?” She would not dignify her father by using magic against them. Ranni would choke the life from them with her bare hands. “After thou turned mine own brother against her and myself? Her own son! Thou darest to show thine face here after all thou hast done!?” They raised their hands and Ranni recognized their movements as language.

“I’m sorry.” She released them. Pushing them away as she did.

“Is that all thou wilt say? I’m sorry?”

“It is all I can say.” They coughed. “I offer no excuse for Radagon’s actions. I do not even fully disagree with most of them, but I do acknowledge that I have hurt thee.”

“You speak of ‘Radagon’s actions’ as if they are not thine own.” Ranni took a good look at them. There was much of her father in their countenance, but there was also someone else, someone equally familiar. Suddenly a candle lit inside her head. Rykard was blond. Both she and Radahn had inherited Radagon’s flaming red, and their mother’s hair was dark as the night, yet Rykard had been blond.

“Marika,” she practically hissed. That fucking cunt had been toying with her mother from the start. Radagon had never existed, it had been Marika the whole time.

“Not Marika, but not Radagon either.”

“Then who, pray tell, cowers before me?”

“Both and neither. Thy father if thou wouldst still have me.” The god of order looked upon their daughter with desperate, pathetic, sorrow. However Ranni no longer had mercy left within her heart.

“Then thou’rt mistress and absent father both. Get thee from my sight.” They stood, placing their hand on the door frame before they left, like Radagon once had when checking up on her as a child.

“I plan to return to thy mother if she will still have me.” They did not look Ranni in the eye. “All I wished to say is, despite all I have done and all thou hast done in my absence, I love thee and I shall always consider thee my daughter.”

“Thou shouldst hope Blaidd does not return before thy exit.” The god of order looked down, still not making eye contact.

“A shame. I would have liked to see my son as well.” Ranni bunched her fists in her dress.

“Did mother know?”

“Yes, she knew. The four of us, thy mother, Godfrey, and I, we all knew, but we never told any of our children.”

“Leave me. Do what thou wilt, but I swear before the moon and every star which moves through the firmament, I shall strike thee down if my mother’s heart is broken yet again.” Their hand slipped from the doorway and they left Ranni’s tower. She cried later, her body moving with the motion of sobs despite the lack of tears in her glass eye, and told herself it was only due to her rage.

Rennala was having a pleasant dream. All her dreams were pleasant now, she slept soundly wrapped around her egg. No need to worry about her husband, alone, trapped within the Erdtree. No need to worry about the rage of her daughter and what it had wrought as she hurtled down her dark path. No need to worry about her students, who had caged her like a brooding hen here in her library.

In this dream she saw a figure hewn from marble with long hair like bright copper. They kneeled at her side and laid their golden sword at her feet. The figure smelled familiar, like incense and golden sunflowers.

“My love, you have returned to me.” The Queen smiled vacantly. Such a pleasant dream this was, that she and her love could be reunited within it.

“I have returned to you, moon of my sky, in hopes that you will return to me.” They placed a hand on the amber egg Rennala held in her arms, the memento they had given her when they had been called back to Leyndell, and knocked it to the ground. It shattered immediately as it hit the floor and the sharp intelligence the god of order had fallen in love with returned to Rennala’s eyes. She stumbled from her cradle, retreating from the god. Her peaceful dream had been shattered and her greatest enemy, the love of her life, stood before her.

“What have you done?”

“I brought you back to me.”

“Have I not suffered enough by your hand?!” She cried. “You would disturb my rest, force me to reckon with the deaths of my sons, deaths you caused! For what purpose?!”

“You accepted my reconciliation once.”

“No, not this time. I know thy tongue to be silver. You fooled me once with promises of reconciliation, you will not fool me again.”

“I’ve given up my throne.” Rennala looked at them in shock. “I’m tired, Rennala. I have no desire to rule this broken kingdom anymore.”

“Then why are you here?” She asked quietly.

“Because I love you, because I have always loved you. Even when I was called from you, even when I was forced to call myself from away from your side, I loved you. I did what I did because I thought it was what I had to do. I longer wish to do what I must, Rennala, I wish to do as I please.”

“And what would please you?”

“To be by your side again, not as a sovereign or as a champion, but merely as your beloved. To lay everything I am at your feet in the hopes that there is still something within me that you can find worthy of you.”

“Your confinement has changed you. You were never so sentimental before.”

“I was, I just never allowed you to see. Sentimentality is so often seen as a weakness for a monarch. After Godwyn died, I decided I would no longer deny myself. Clearly even I didn’t know when someone I loved would suddenly leave me. Even if you no longer wish for me to live by your side, I would regret it for the rest of my life if I did not express just how much I care for you.”

“Do not expect me to believe you so easily.”

“I will do whatever I must to prove that I am sincere. Just say the word and I shall do whatever you wish me to.”

“Determine it for yourself. Any course of action I commanded of you would only ring hollow.” Rennala answered coldly. She straightened her crown. “If I must be torn from my rest, I shall assert my will over this academy once again. ‘Do as you please’, sovereign finite.” She jeered.

For the next week, the god of order sat outside her chambers, day and night, leaning on their golden sword. Rennala ignored them as she went about her day but it was becoming more and more difficult. Still her traitorous heart loved them. She ought to hate them, the very sight of them ought to send her into a blind rage, but when she saw their face all she could remember was Radagon making breakfast for her in the morning, insisting that he preferred to cook for her rather than relying on the servants, Marika shooting her a conspiratorial grin in the war room and squeezing her hand under the table.

That day it rained as if the moon herself was weeping and Rennala paused before entering her library once more. The God of Order still sat outside, just as they had for days now. Their hair was soaked through with water, hanging lank to their shoulders. They did not shiver in the cold, their stone skin protected them from the elements, but as they looked at Rennala, through a curtain of sopping hair with exhaustion in their golden eyes, she took pity on them. The Queen sighed.

“Come dry yourself off.” Rennala extended her hand. Their hand was cold and strangely smooth as she helped pull them to their feet.

“Don’t think this means I’ve forgiven you.” She watched out of the corner of her eye as they dried their hair. They’d removed their armor to dry, and she could see glimpses of their body beneath the black linen shirt they wore.

“I didn’t think it did.” They wrapped the towel Rennala had given them around their shoulders.

“So this was what you intended for yourself.” Rennala had spoken to both Marika and Radagon about why they had split themself into two entities in the past, but they’d given seemingly contradictory answers. However both agreed on the end goal, to reach a final state of self perfection.

“It is.”

“So you are now gold and phosphorus, united into copper.”

“And I have come to rejoin dear silver.” The god smirked at the old cipher. Once used to hide their dealings in court.

“And what of antimony?” The god’s face fell.

“Godfrey has been slain. His life was lost in the contest over the throne of Elden Lord. Yet another reason I feel I must declare my love so ardently.”

“Then there is a new Elden Lord.”

“One of yours, I believe. A mage of considerable skill.” The god sniffed, clearly distasteful. “A man who chose to forsake grace for monstrousness.”

“So then you return merely to leave me again.”

“No. I would fight him with all my might before I was ripped from you a second time. We… have an arrangement. He shall keep his own bedfellows and I shall keep mine. I may take him if I wish, but we agreed that we shall not meddle in each other's affairs.”

“What shall I call him?”

“His name is Leon, though if we were to refer to him in secret…” They thought for a moment. “Well I suppose if I am to be copper that would make him quicksilver.”

“Rather lofty a pedestal to place one you purport to be a monster.”

“It would make sense to you upon meeting him I think.”

“And what would you like to be called now. I don’t imagine you’d wish to carry either of your names anymore.” Rennala bent down, taking the towel from their shoulders.

“Aurelian, or your love, should it still please you.”

“I should tell you to jump into the fires of Mount Gelmir.

“I would, if you commanded me to.” Aurelian stroked her cheek. Rennala held their wrist.

“I should, but I cannot.” The god of order stared into the eyes of the full moon queen. They bent their head to the side, seeing if Rennala would pull away. She closed her eyes. Rennala should hate them, she should cast them from Liurnia forever, but she could not when they kissed her so tenderly.