so long as i am weak

When you are thirteen, give or take, your mother and father are killed.

You don't know much about it - only that their stagecoach was ambushed by a group of mercenaries, maybe by bandits. There are whispers of assassins, of family betrayals from other members of the Ravus line, but you only hear them because you pay attention. To be a Ravus is to be in danger. It is the nature of the beast.

Days later, with no Lord Ravus to guard them, it comes to light that the dragonstones have been stolen from the Ravus estate. It's a prophecy foretold, a realization of the lesson of importance that the Lord Ravus truly holds. Just like that, all five stones are gone, vanished into the hands of gods only knows who or what, and of course you could do nothing about it - you're still too young, too green, too little.

The only thing anyone tells you, now that you've been orphaned, is that your retainers will continue to care for you. Heathcote, your butler, takes guardianship over you and Cordelia both, and the maids fuss over your funeral clothes and your hair. They apologize to you, tell you it's okay to cry, but, Rondo, try not to cry at the funeral, alright? They are kind, but you are the man of the house, now, the final male heir to a heavy mantle, and you have to be strong. You have to be strong, because you aren't strong just for you.

You have to be strong for Cordelia.

Cordelia, your younger sister, Cordelia, only nine years old. While you could easily restate the duty of the Ravuses to anyone when you were young, the first time you truly understood what it meant to want to protect something was the day your teary eyed mother placed Cordelia in your arms as a newborn. She was so tiny, so fragile, and it was when she curled her tiny fingers around one of yours that you knew exactly what it meant, to want to protect.

As you've grown, the two of you are the spitting image of your mother and father. Same blonde hair, same piercingly bright blue eyes, same rounded features; you are the pride of the Ravus family, and while you have always had each other, it has never felt more pressing than it does right now.

So, after the funeral, you feel that calling of love and duty when Cordelia stares up at you with her wet, round eyes, when the two of you finally get a moment alone, away from mourners or well-wishers or thieves alike. Cordelia settles close to you, and holds onto your sleeve, and says in her soft, sad voice: "Big brother...I... I get a little sad sometimes, when I remember mom and dad. And then, I can't stop crying."

It is in this moment, your own heart broken and heavy with the loss of your mother and father, that things clarify even further. The dragonstones are gone, right now, and the other Ravus treasures do not and could not compare to your little sister's life, to the close family you still have.

This is your duty. You step forward and you embrace her, pulling her into your arms and pressing your cheek to the top of her head as she sniffles, curling her fingers in your waistcoat. and you say, softly, soothing and genuine. "...It's okay, Cordelia. I'll protect you, no matter what - so don't cry."



Cordelia sniffles your name and buries her face in your chest, and you make a promise to yourself, to the world, to the gods up above your head.

You will protect your sister. You will get strong enough and get the dragonstones back, one by one if you have to. You will learn, you will learn, you will learn.

So long as I am weak, nothing I hold dear is safe. It becomes your mantra.

--

A few months after the funeral, around your thirteenth birthday, Heathcote leaves on business for something - he tells you, and only you, it's to track down a rumor of the location of one of the dragonstones, and leaves you in the capable care of the rest of the house staff. You always miss Heathcote when he's not there, but life in the house moves on. You attend your lessons, both of the book and the sword, you attend to your sister, you eat delicious meals and live your daily life in Bolderfall, waiting for Heathcote's return with hope in your heart that the family treasure can soon be restored, that maybe the next time, Heathcote will bring you with him.

However, the dragonstones are not the only treasure of the Ravus family. The family itself is wealthy - the wealthiest family in Bolderfall, if not one of the wealthiest in all of the Cliftlands beyond the royalty of Edoras themselves. and in the end, it is not continent-ending forces coming to destroy the world who knock down your doors. It's just a set of regular bandits. Hungry, mean looking men who cut down your swordmanship coach like it's nothing, who murder all of your retainers still in the home, and who corner you and Cordelia in the main hall of the manor, who ransack the place for whatever gold they can carry. they've made their intentions clear - they will kidnap you and your sister, and hold you for ransom, to bleed House Ravus dry. High houses rise and fall all the time in Orsterra. It's just the nature of life.

Cordelia is trembling like a leaf as three of the bandits regard you and your sister in the front hall. And you - this is what you've been training for, isn't it?



You put yourself in front of Cordelia, your arms protectively out in front of her.

(Truthfully? You are terrified. You've only ever fought straw dummies and sparred with your coach. You've never fought a real person before, you've never swung this sword when your life was on the line - you are thirteen years old, and you are terrified. )

"Rondo," Cordelia whispers, her voice reedy and thin, her fingers curling in the back of your coat.

You shake your head, your heart pounding, and you take a deep breath, and you say, steady as you can: “It's okay, Cordelia. I made a promise.”

Because you did. You promised her, you swore you would protect her, and you feel it burning so intensely in your chest, so deeply rooted within you that you will, you will, you will, you will be strong for her, you will protect her even if it kills you in the process. That's what it means to be a Ravus. it means to protect the things that matter to you.

You drop your hands, and you reach for the small sword you've carried for years, now.

The bandit regards you, thirteen years old and full of bravado, and shrugs. "Sorry, kid, but we've got no choice here. If you wanna blame anything...blame the fact that you were born into a rich family."

The bandits laugh at their boss's line, cruel and mean, but you barely hear them over the blood roaring in your ears.

It's fear and adrenaline and pure courage, pure love for your sister, as you draw your sword and slide your foot back like you've been taught, strong stance, Ravus bloodline, courageous knight. Your hands are shaking so hard your sword barely holds straight, and you don't care, because you made a promise, and you repeat it here, out loud. “I will... protect you…”



The cruel laughter stops. The leader of the bandits suddenly rushes forward and you don't think "I'm going to die", you think, I will protect you I will protect you IwillprotectyouIwillprotectyou and you push off on one foot --

-- and then there's the shing of unsheathed steel, of the clash of a dagger against a blade, and you're dazed with the sudden realization that standing in front of you is a a man.

You don't know where he came from. You don't know who he is, but he drives the bandit backwards away from you like it's effortless, and it feels like the entire world stops as you stare up at him. Broad shoulders, silver hair around him like a halo, that shining, holy sword in his hand. He switches his grip on his large, ornate sword to one handed, effortlessly, draws out his left hand, and his voice rings out like the choir of an angel.

"Come, my flame - and engulf all who oppose me!"

The man - the knight - summons a flame into his palm, as pure and azure blue as the sky, and you realize from your studies and sheer instinct alone that the man is wielding the Sacred Flame itself. It takes over the blade of his sword, blazing brilliant, and you, Cordelia, even the bandits, you all gasp. There's a flash of steel and that bright blue light rings out, holy, pure, clean, so bright you're forced to close your eyes, and when they open again, the three bandits are dead on the floor, and the man points his sword at the leader, imperious and strong.



You exhale outwards, staring up at him, stunned. Awestruck.

Rondo Ravus, you think you might be in love.

“You…” you breathe, slowly, full of a thousand questions and a thousand words and nothing else to say. The man pauses, and turns to you as he sheathes his sword. His face is stunning, carved out of marble, cool features, his eyes as bright and azure blue as the flame that struck the bandits and saved your life seconds before.

The knight regards you.

"Boy..." says the man, his gaze sweeping over you and your sword, and you feel - judged and seen all at once, and you feel the urge to straighten up and puff out your chest but you aren't sure if you can even move. All you can do is lift your chin up a little further, heart still pounding, the best you can manage, still staring wide eyed up at the man who became your savior.

The knight folds his arms and you realize what you see on his face, in his blazing brilliant blue eyes, as he raises an eyebrow.

The knight, your savior, beautiful and strong, looks you dead in the eyes, Rondo Ravus, and he says: "...You've got the makings of the Flame, in you."

The look in that man's eyes is approval.

Your heart stops. Unconsciously, you shiver. Every hair on the back of your neck stands up.

And it is in that moment, staring at the man - who you come to know is Sazantos, the Flameguard, the holiest and most important position in the hallowed Knights Ardante - that you know what you want to do with the rest of your life. That you know what strength is. that you've seen it, personified.

--

Unfortunately, Sazantos doesn't agree.

You approach him the day after he rescues you and your sister - he stays while Heathcote makes his return from wherever he's gone, just in case someone tries something again, a guard in every sense of the word. You learn that Sazantos the Flameguard is nineteen, that despite his aura of power, he's still young himself, and you are animated by the force that you need to - you need to join him.

So you meet him in the courtyard, with your tiny sword, and you boisterously tell him what you want.


>> 2:00 <<

His rejection devastates you. The phrasing alone could wreck a lesser man, let alone a thirteen year old. But you have always, always, always been stubborn, and what you linger on are not his words, but his actions. He invited you to spar with him, anyway, after all.

But even still, his words - Run back to where you belong, Rondo Ravus - will haunt you for the rest of your life.


--

And so, for years, you train. You train, and you train, and you train, and you grapple with your choices. Be the Ravus heir - the Lord of the Ravus house. Retrieve the dragonstones. Carry on the family line. Or...

... or chase your dreams. Become a knight. Follow Sir Sazantos, whose words are so deeply rooted into your soul they might as well be sewn there. He offered you a guiding light, and you so badly want to take it, but you feel - you feel so selfish, making this choice.

What will happen to Cordelia? What if someone attacks her? What if someone tries to hurt her, when you're gone? You're the man of the house and your sister is not trained in combat. She is gentle. Kind. And people try to take advantage of the two of you all the time. If someone hurt her because you went off on a fool's errand, it would destroy you.

But then again, are you even strong enough to protect her, now? You rely on Heathcote. You rely on others to tell you you are strong. If you go to chase Sazantos, to join the Knights Ardante, you could become stronger, but you leave your sister alone. What point is there remaining in this house, when you can do naught to protect it?

You are so selfish. You are duty bound. You are --

"-- Your meal is served, dear brother."

You're snapped out of your thoughts by your sister's voice, cutting through like a ray of sunlight. You pause, panting, and sheathe your practice sword, turning to face her.

Cordelia's become such a lady. It's hard to believe, some days - she's growing up, wearing beautiful dresses like your mother used to - and she's just become more and more radiant, over the years. She smiles at you, sweetly, hands folded in front of her, and it warms your heart, chasing away some of those thoughts of self loathing, if just for a second.

Your heart pounds hard.

"Thank you, Cordelia." You say, breaking into a smile, but it's not quite there. Because - because, you're going to do this. You're going to be selfish, you're going to make the choice. You want to be strong for her. You have to tell her. It's going to break her heart into a thousand pieces, but you have to, and the anxiety ratchets up a notch or two, but you don't let it stop you. "...May I have a word with you before we eat?"

Cordelia nods, and you can see the worry on her face. She can always read you like a book. Hardly surprising. "Of course..."

You take a deep breath, and hold out your hands.

"I... plan to leave this place, and join the Knights Ardante."

There. It's out of your mouth - the thing you've been dying to tell her this entire time, for years. You feel so jittery and anxious and guilty and awful and thrilled all at once, and you want to take it back, but you don't, in the silence between you. You start to anticipate what she's going to say. If she's going to cry.

Cordelia looks at you for a long moment, and then tilts her head to the side, and says, "Very well."

You're - stunned. You blink at her, stupidly, and repeat back, ""Very well"? You need no further explanation?"

Her face blooms into a smile. Beautiful, reassuring - warm. As warm as warm can be, and Cordelia holds her hands out to you. "Rondo, I've been watching you all this time. What more explanation do I need?"

"Cordelia -- "

"You're always so considerate of my feelings, and that's very kind of you." Cordelia says - she comes closer to you, and takes your hands in her small ones. You realize yours are shaking, dimly, and stare at her, like she's hung the moon and stars in the sky, your heart swelling in your chest. "But... it is my turn, to be considerate of yours. So go! Go where you feel you ought to be. I know you'll make a fine knight! Leave House Ravus to Heathcote and I. "

Cordelia beams at you, and there's nothing on her face but acceptance and love, the love of a darling sister. Nothing but unyielding, unfaltering support. Of course she knew what you wanted. Of course she knows how this has been bothering you. Of course she supports this dream of yours, because she's your sister, and she loves you.

You feel a little choked up, overwhelmed and touched, and say, "Cordelia... thank you."

And bolstered by her approval, you begin the process to chase down your dreams.