Rhivera (Complete Novel)

~Chapter Twenty-Eight- Rhivon~

~Chapter Twenty-Eight~

~Rhivon~

~January 2021~

Sunlight streams into the room. As I wake, I feel my body ache. Slowly but surely, I sit up in bed, my old bones telling me to lie still. I lean to the other side of the bed to give Ofelia a kiss but find it empty. She's been gone for years, but it's become habitual for me to check on her.

I sidle my legs off the bed and stand to my feet, being careful to keep my balance. Every morning, I'm reminded that I'm not as strong as I once was. Oh, how I miss youth!

I cast the window curtains aside and take in the view of the shore. I eye a clearing on the beach. Fifty years ago, I proposed to Ofelia at that spot.

Wait, was it forty? No, no. It was before that. Fifty-five? I proposed when I was... 25. No, 27. I was definitely 27 years old. It was 1970. So that was... fifty. Oh yes. It was fifty years ago. I was right the first time.

I do a brief stretch before going to the restroom. My white beard is starting to thicken; it's time for a shave. Fortunately, I still have my hair; I wasn't balding like Elian or Felix. I dress myself for the day. Normally I'd wear a suit, but with Xander taking over my duties lately, I don't think I will.

Wait... No, I proposed to Ofelia when I was 26 years old. So it was forty-nine years ago. Depending on which month it was.... It was April 27th, 1970... No, it was fifty years ago. I was right the first time.

I step out of my room and find soldiers standing guard there. Ever since the war with Miro started, they've insisted I stay in the capitol for safety. I've been staying on the top floor of the capitol, one of the only floors that could see over the Capitol's defensive wall.

The defensive stone wall around the capitol has turrets manned all around it and is many stories high. Many believe the capitol be an impenetrable fortress, but I know better. I've witnessed it fall when I was a child. It can happen again. This Miro seemed determined enough.

I take a stroll around the capitol, marveling at the beautiful architecture. At the eastern end of the building, I take a look outside at the green plains leading to a nearby city. Back in the days of King Dalec, that land was falling into decay from the great famine. People seem to forget how far we've come since then. Maybe this war wouldn't be happening if they remembered.

It's been a long time since I've seen the old throne room. I think about taking the stairs, but they're far too intimidating for me now. The elevator will do. I take it to the first floor and found a boarded-up room. I ask the nearby soldiers to open the room for me. Inside is a long room with light shining in from the sides and a bronze throne covered in cobwebs at its end. It's been decades since it was last used by King Dalec, the last King of Damin.

Dalec became king in 1935 after all other heirs had passed, sometime before I was born. He was content living a privileged life within the capitol, ignorant of the people struggling to survive outside. His neglect allowed the famine to become as severe as it did.

Our family was strong, and was able to withstand the famine to a point. But my mother wanted to do her part to help those less fortunate. One day, my mother's generosity got the better of her. Her life was taken by those she tried to help. The famine turned people cruel.

My Grandfather Gregor and Uncle Angelo were angered so much by the loss that they went to war with the King, seeking to improve the state of the country themselves. What followed was a terrible war which raged on from 1948 to 1955. The war was known as the Veran Rebellion.