Palacia Varius Savat [A Rama Empire short story]

"Ket Savat'Ilen Tekir, the saying went. The Goddess Ket Savat thirsts, and that usually meant for blood."

Almost four centuries have passed since the Craft Plague, and yet there is still one society where mage craft is still accepted and used. The Blades of Ket Savat are still thriving in the palace deep beneath Cahl's capital, carrying out their assassin work in the streets above.

Rohen is one of the Goddess' Blades, and one of her best assassins. He is firmly devoted to the Goddess ideals, but as the world changes, doubt flourishes. When you have to chose between home and work, both in the name of Ket Savat, how do you know your gods are even there?


6. Part V

Werthius, or Werth as Rohen called him, had the weekly chore of traversing the entire Palacia, to touch the lanterns in the hallways and relight them with flare magic. He was the only one who had the power at current to do both that, and the work of Ket Savat. He was also Dania's craft teacher, though he had long since given up on teaching her anything that required light. She tended to blow things up, when she tried anything flare related.

Rohen liked Werth, he was kind, but that did not mean that Rohen did not laugh, when the guy came out from a craft exercise with Dania, with his beard scorched and still glowing embers on his tunic. And, when he heard Rohen's laughter, a tired shrug of his shoulders as he shook his head and went to change.

"I thought you stopped practising flare magics," he said to Dania, when she came out looking sheepish a moment later.

"Oh, we did," she said. "Turns out it's anything heat related, not just flare I'm bad with. There's also fire, lightning, anything that channels energy... Werthius thinks I'm somehow twisting the bondings in a way that causes it to build and then rupture."

"Rupture?" Rohen raised an eyebrow.

"Explode," Dania corrected, narrowing her eyes. When she turned her head, just so, he could see the birthmark behind her ear. She had once told him that the only thing she knew about her father, was that he had the same birthmark.

Rohen wondered, if she ever had children, if they would carry that mark too.

"Are you going to continue the lesson, after he's changed to a tunic that isn't on fire, or are you free?" Rohen asked.

"He wouldn't change unless we were done," she said, looking at him with slight consideration. "Too big a fire hazard for any new tunics. And besides, he has a job tomorrow that he needs to get ready for."

"Good," Rohen told her. "I was just in the mood for lunch on the balcony."

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