Return to Ferendaux

Time passes.

After two weeks recovering in the hospital, Raum joins Aquila as planned to travel with him to the capital, Ferendaux.

There is a very obvious question about this whole arrangement. Which is, is Raum safe with Aquila? And the answer to that question is no. Though Raum is staking his future on the conceit that Aquila’s path is better for him than Reyl’s, until Raum understands what motivated Aquila’s switch from killing Raum to keeping Raum, he can not ever say that he is safe with Aquila.

Yes, Aquila has said he simply saw no reason not to make peace with the twins, and to believe that is extremely comforting.

No, Raum does not truly think that was the whole story, or that Aquila is done with him. There had to be an actual reason why he didn’t just shoot them. And yeah, for how pleasant it sounds to melt into the guy, he is still more than a little bit scared of him.

So, bolstering his courage, Raum tells Aquila this: If you ever kill me, please just tell me why. Then, no matter what happens, I’ll be okay with it.

Aquila agrees to this promise, smiling with complex remorse. It’s a grim thing to establish, but it’s important Raum does so. This way, he can stand by his decision regardless of its result, and return to this promise in times of fear, accepting these risks were in the cards from the outset.

Though he’s proud of how resolute that sounds, Raum senses he shouldn’t divulge these thoughts to Aquila. Blame me, Aquila said, as he led Raum to murder. Well, alright then. If ever things go wrong, I’ll let you think I do.

With these determined thoughts circling through his mind, Raum and Aquila board their carriage.

Their conversation throughout their journey is principally superficial. And while it’s not that Raum resents superficial, the fact he can feel the blandness of their interactions, and the breathtaking fluidity of Aquila’s evasions from potentially serious topics, does leave a profound hollowness that Raum finds himself scrambling to fill.

It’s not that Aquila’s a bad conversationalist. He asks questions about Raum, answers questions about himself, and consistently builds off-hand remarks into interesting observations and anecdotes. But for all his engagement, there remains an offputting clinical edge, and a lingering sense of calculation in what he is and is not divulging. Raum notices it, but probing feels unwise.

So he shuts off his brain and lets his smile take over. It’s exciting to be moving into a new city. It’s sort of like that time he and Reyl moved into their first apartment, hell of a fixer-upper though it was. And he’s excited to meet the people here. He’s always enjoyed learning more about individuals, and interested in seeing what will be similar and different from the attitudes he knows. Then there’s this mantle of nobility, which has its obvious perks… but moreso that places Raum as part of a legacy he still barely comprehends. Discovering the significance of his patrilineal heritage, finding his place in it, and reconnecting with it, all sound enticing. Hell knows there’s nothing so wonderful he got from his mother.

Aquila tilts his head and asks if Raum feels divided.

It strikes Raum as a weird question. Because truthfully, no. He’s always strongly favoured his father. And he’s never really wanted to be Ordish. He’ll admit that’s how he conceives himself, but it’s more because he’s lived there so long than because he ‘feels’ connected to the culture. For lack of a better verb.

Aquila nods, smiles, and divulges his own anecdote about how he’s always been predestined to one single role, so he’s never tried or thought to pursue any other conception of himself than what people expected. It would be a remarkably vulnerable admission if it weren’t a distraction from his actual vulnerabilities. From him, all it means is that he’s always wanted to be King. Well, that’s kind of interesting to know anyway.

What’s it like being King? Raum asks. Aquila answers that it’s a much dryer position than it would initially sound. Before all else, life as a statesman is a life where every decision will please some, anger others, and evoke untold consequences that Aquila’s principal role is to foresee. After discerning which course most advantages the populace, or else incurs the least adverse change, it is then, for Aquila, a matter of mediating between the parties that would and would not strongly support such a decision. In Asphodel’s case, those parties are represented most by regional lords.

Raum is surprised to hear this. Can’t Aquila just say things, and it happens? Why the need to mediate? Aquila notes this line of thinking carries a tinge of Ordishness to it. Asphodel is not a place where economic slavery has shattered personal ambition, or where men are valued most by lords for their labour, but for their willingness to fight for their master in war. That willingness is not reliably bought by money alone, but firm and equitable treatment. Just as a keen corporato flows towards untapped markets, the ambitious Asphodelean burns to claim the holdings of masters they deem unjust, that they may reap consequent loyalty.

Of course, Aquila continues, these are antiquated attitudes, no longer so vital in the diplomatic peace of today, yet they persist in this nation as sure as blood. In modern politics it simply means lords become twitchy when they perceive undeservedly poor treatment upon one of their number, and that is what Aquila’s fair reasoning must ameliorate when his choices provoke discontent. Inevitably, that does happen.

Like the Whitewoods, I guess?, Raum thinks, but knows better than to say.

Feeling they have established a rapport, Raum asks about the terms of their agreement. Aquila’s not just going to leave him to look after a castle or anything alone… right?

Aquila shifts in his seat and tilts his head back a slight, squinting. He answers, no, he will not. To expect Raum to transition into the life Aquila has offered without guidance is, in itself, cruel in a way Aquila would rather not inflict. Furthermore, he will confess now that he does have aspirations of employing Raum to political uses, those being entirely domestic ones, of course. Hence, he would like their relationship to remain quite tight, especially in these following months.

Raum nods. Aquila will likely also being evaluating Raum’s suitability for whatever those ‘uses’ are in that period.

It is rather my intention that you do not come to undue stress by me, Aquila continues, and that your quality of life remains suitably high. You are welcome to enter my chambers for council whenever you should wish it, and should you come to face difficulties that you are unsure as to navigate, I in fact request that you do so. Aquila pauses, and smiles. I am also often present at court, if you should seek me in a more casual context.

Raum’s face flushes and he clamps his hand around his cheeks to hide it. Oh, god, man, don’t just say things like that…

Though he catches the subtle amusement in Aquila’s eyes at this reaction, Raum’s mind wanders elsewhere. This deal is starting to sound like it’s made of honey.

I don’t really have to do anything? Raum checks.

Aquila nods. ‘Anything’ is quite broad. The benefits of your position exist that you may benefit by them. If you would wish to use your inheritance in manners that suit you, else capitalise on your lack of necessity to work to specialise your time into hobbies or social pursuits, I would encourage that. If you would wish to move as a political force, however, I request that you first inform me. It may be in my power to achieve the end you seek, albeit more smoothly.

…

…This sounds exactly like his life in East Welding. Raum isn’t sure what’s more scary: That Aquila discerned his drivers that quickly, or that he’s escaped one pattern just to fall into it again.

Aquila tilts his head quizzically at Raum’s crestfallen reaction. Does this trouble you?

Nah, Raum replies, shaking his head. The thoughts in his brain rattle clean like a snowglobe. Aquila is just asking him not to fuck up the local equilibrium without warning, and if he wants an occupation or something to devote his time to, he has more options than gang crap. It’s not the same as Reyl whacking him for trying to shut down mom’s brothels.

With all of that established, Raum asks what they’ll be doing once they reach Ferendaux.

Yes…, Aquila mutters. He crosses his legs, cups his elbow to his palm, bows his forehead to his fist, and closes his eyes in thought. Raum is stunned, and heartened, to see this. It’s the first time Aquila has ever looked like he did not plan his reaction, fifty years ago.

Aquila uncurls himself with a nod, flashing an overjoyed grin.

I think we must begin, he says, with an address to your fellow gentry.

So saying, their carriage rolls in through the stately stone gates of Ferendaux.