[Completed] Palacia Varius Savat [A Rama Empire short story]

“Ket Savat'Ilen Tekir, the saying went. The Goddess Ket Savat thirsts, and always for blood.”

Almost four centuries have passed since the Craft Plague, but in the underground palace of the Assassins' Goddess, magic still flourishes. The Blades of Ket Savat still exists deep below the streets of Ilianril, and carry out their work in the houses above.

Rohen is a Blade of the Goddess, and skilled at what he does. He is firmly devoted to his people and his home, but as the outside world changes, so does the one in the underground palace- How can you trust in a Goddess, when you no longer trust her people to do right?

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10. Part IX

The softly chuckling fountain had dried up, and the water on the bed where it had once run was still and stale. Even the fish had gone. The plants around it drooped and lost their leaves, already beginning to shrivel and brown in desperate longing for the sun. Half of a butterfly's wing lay broken in the dust.

Rohen sat his lantern on the stones, and himself beside it. His chest felt hollow, empty like the Palacia around him. Every day the darkness encroached on the old underground palace. Slowly claiming it for the rats, bats and creatures of the dark. Already there were murmurs of eyes in the abandoned tunnels, and worries that the goblins of old had returned.

The blades were dulling. Their magic was fading, and now their once blooming culture and homestead was sickening and dying.

“The council have met,” Dania told him, stepping out from the shadows, her voice weary. “They've decided.”

Rohen turned to look at her.

“So?”

“The mage craft needed to keep the last of the palace lit is too precious,” she whispered, probably haunted by her own shortcomings with the light spells. “We're relocating over ground, preserving the craft for our work. To continue carrying out Ket Savat's work. Once- when there's enough magic to do it, we'll return here.”

A bitter laugh escaped him.

“And if we never have it?” he asked.

Dania shuddered, and hugged herself close.

“I don't know, Rohen. I really don't.” Her voice was filled with pristine sadness, and he took her into his arms, as much to soothe himself as her.

“Our home is gone,” she whispered. “I'm homeless again.”

“Our people isn't gone,” Rohen said. “You'll always have a home with the Blades. Ket Savat looks after her favourites.”

“Does she?” Dania asked, eyes locked on the dark Palacia.

And standing there, on the balcony, seeing the gardens wither from lack of light, the dying butterflies, and the water rotting and stale, Rohen had no answer.

The shadows had fallen like a curtain over the Palacia Varius Savat.

 

And it would be almost a thousand years before the curtain was withdrawn once again.

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