Kalavathi Burns
by CJG1988
We are many. We are one. We have seen what has become of this world, and who is responsible. We demand punishment. We demand repayment. We do not forget.-FF
Only allowing his gaze the briefest of moments to take in the message, Jarin scrunched the piece of paper and hastily buried it back within his pocket. He only needed to see a few words, for it was the same message that had been distributed around the Capital for weeks now. Jarin took note of the time displayed on the beautifully carved marble clock to his right, realising he was running late, he scurried off to the meeting in the council chambers.
When the Gods first descended from the stars, they brought with them many great magics. The peoples of Ruciea had greeted the Gods with open arms, in utter bewilderment of their awesome power. For the Gods had built marvellous machines, and with their magic, controlled them. The Gods also brought a great message of peace. They would preach, drawing from their most holiest of scriptures, as they gave gifts unto the people of Ruciea. This continued for months, as a golden age had dawned on Ruciea. There was no war, no famine, nor disease. All cities, towns and villages, grew and prospered under the divine rule of their new masters. The Gods had control over all things, their will and divine machines spread across Ruciea unchallenged like wildfire.
Despite centuries of prosperity, dissension slowly arose. There were those of Ruciea that dared to question the Gods and their word. Above all else, it was forbidden to share magic with the Rucieans. It was too powerful, too dangerous for those not descendant of the Gods to wield. This had always bothered Jarin. In his eyes, magic was a wondrous thing, it could heal wounds, create fire, even allow their great ships to take flight like birds. Why was it that they could not share all such wonders with the people that worshipped them? Surely they could be taught to use magic, just as he was.
Jarin cautiously slipped into the chambers, hoping to go unnoticed. But the Captain of the Royal Guard had the eyes of a hawk, he watched his youngest son slink into the line up and scowled at him for his tardiness. The meeting was already well underway and Lord Omerus Sadareem, the King's most trusted adviser, had the floor.
"Henceforth, in light of recent events, all those of noble blood will remain inside the Citadel until further notice." His bejewelled robes glistened with every minute movement as he spoke.
Hushed murmurs filled the chambers as members of the Royal Guard each expressed animosity toward the new ruling. Lord Omerus inhaled sharply through his nostrils, clearly offended.
"Quiet down." barked Captain Jarrah. His forces went silent in an instant and he waved at Lord Omerus casually to continue.
Lord Omerus looked furious, his shaved head did little in the way of concealing the veins pulsating with rage. He had always resented Captain Jarrah's boorishness and everyone knew it. But as the Captain of the Royal Guard, Jarin's father only had ears for those of the Royal Family. His rank and privilege were essentially on par with Lord Omerus, but the pair never saw eye to eye with one another. Not that Lord Omerus was always incorrect about so many mundane matters, simply that Captain Jarrah rather enjoyed provoking him.
As the meeting continued, Jarin found his mind wandering, yet again. His thoughts quickly settled back on the note balled within his pocket. He had heard rumours of late, just whispers initially. But now, now they had grown much more brazen. Reports of patrols being ambushed started a few weeks ago, and since then, the notes began to appear and by the thousands. Freedom Fighters they claimed to be. Ridiculous. All they sought was to seize power for themselves. They even had the gall to claim that the Gods were not that at all, that they were no different from themselves. That the Gods had changed the natural procession of their world. They sought revenge, and wished to eliminate all who were not of Ruciea. Revenge? Thought Jarin. Revenge for what? The Gods had gifted the people of Ruciea with many things, all in the name of peace and unfathomable generosity. Jarin just couldn't fathom from where this great hatred stemmed. He reached into his pocket, he rolled the clump of paper between his fingertips as he attempted to chime in to the remainder of the meeting.
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