The Spectacle of His Adolescence, the Diary of Darius Flavius, Pt 1
The Spectacle of His Adolescence, the Diary of Darius Flavius, rewritten by Albringio Luandral, 715FC. In Darius may we find peace. For the people of Myralis, and for our prophet, our king, Darius Flavius.
Pt. 1 The Blade of Caeseus, 14 BFC.
As was common for that of the common child, in the once great kingdom, home of the Caesons, though rather remarkably unremarkable for that of nobility, he awoke, a young boy in linen rags, in the corner of his chamber, deep below his father’s grand castle. To his daily pleasure, despite the lack of warm coverings, he enjoyed the fluff of his soft bed, aloft its wooden frame. Young and sincere, Darius Flavius of Caesony, sat in the darkness upon his bed, parting his long, curled hair, uncovering his eyes.
“Boy!” A demanding, stern, quite hostile voice pierced through the hall and his chamber from atop the stairs outside his door. A usual occurrence, a bored, understanding juvenile Darius sighed, lightly bounced from his bed, taking his first steps toward the door.
“Boy do you hear my call? We have guests.” The voice, with its unnecessary anger, a stench one could almost smell, ventured again down the stairs. “Do not leave them waiting.” Footsteps atop the stairs stomped, slowly diminishing into a tap, to nothing. Darius paused, only momentarily, curious, guests in his fathers castle? How strange. He continued, at a pace, only slightly, faster than a stroll. It would be best to not leave the guests waiting, after all.
Atop the stairs, a whole new world. Lovely paintings, intricate ornamentation and detailed walls. A carpet, black, soft to the touch, stretching down a long, hardly narrow, hall of beauty. Upon the end of the hall, a sight beholding much less beauty, arguably, a sort of beauty that diminishes the beauty of it all. A smile, rather unsettlingly large, with the most golden of teeth, perhaps, some silver blemishes, belonging to a rather unpleasant character, his arms wide open, fingers curled.
“Oh, my boy, oh Darius, young man. Come here, yes. Come here.” His smile persisted, quite the ventriloquist he was. His hands, vigorously shaking, a lovely gesture. Darius stepped forward, his head held proud, the greatest smile upon his joyous face.
“Papa!” Darius exclaimed, as he ran into the embrace of the smiling man, holding him tight. Beside him, an assortment of palely light skinned, taller than what would be considered normal, cloaked men in a greater assortment of animal pelts wrapped around their appendages, stood staring down upon Darius. Darius, removing himself from the embrace, met the gaze of the men.
“Hello! Nice to meet you all! I am Darius Flavius, pleased to make your acquaintance.” Darius grinned, extending his arm and hand to newfound friends.
Silence, their voices, their movement as well. The only audic sensation, strangely, was that of their unwavering stare, it was almost screaming. Not to mention, the terrible frown upon the face of each gentleman in his presence.
“Ah yes, my good men, thank you for coming today.” The voice from earlier, the wonderful father of Darius, spoke much happier than before. “Today is a momentous day, for myself, for you four, and especially my young boy, Darius. Young man, do you know what day it is today?”
“No papa, simply another day in the wonderful land of Caesony, under the blessed presence of his majesty, King Faustus.” Darius cheered, his lively, innocent brown eyes meeting his father’s.
“You humour me, Darius. You really do, how lovely you are.”
“Papa, what day is it?”
“Today, child, my beloved child, is your birthday. In fact, today, you are 10 years in age.” His father patted Darius’ shoulder. “Today, we celebrate.”
In unison, the four men began to clap, slowly, steadily.
“Unto us you come, young boy.” The palest of the four whispered, soft, yet urging. Darius received a nod of reassurance from his father, glanced upon the man who spoke, and took three footsteps, small, and gentle. Somehow, a natural urge, decided by the heavens and enacted by Darius, he cupped his hands, extending them toward the man.
“For you. May Caeseus be with you child, for eternity, good and bad. Life and death. In peace and in pain. May he guide you. For Caesony.” He said in prayer, his eyes sealed. From his cloak, he removed an object. A blade, long, serrated, silver and shiny. Socketed with a jewel, red, shining bright. A ruby, an artifact of power, representing independence, wealth, strength and wonder. Upon Darius’ hands, the man placed the sacred blade. A holy object, a blade of Caeseus. “Young boy. Wrap those fingers you have been blessed with by the gods, upon their holy gem within the blade you have received. Hold tight, feel their power, receive it upon your being.
Darius examined the blade, running a finger down the dull end, before pointing it downward, toward his toes.
“Go on, Darius.” His father nodded.
Then, without hesitation, or perhaps a little to no success, Darius wrapped his hands, left palm against the ruby, fingers wrapping the handle, maintaining a firm grip, upon the blade of Caeseus.
The air went still.
The room fell silent, darkness encroached. Limp, Darius felt no force nor pressure, no hot nor cold. Only an embrace, sweeter, yet more menacing than any he had ever felt, though, with not much to compare to.
“Hello, my child.” A strange, perhaps, gurgled, voice spoke.
Although the normal response, startled, no. Darius remained calm, faint of mind, though rather curious, perhaps nervous, yet at peace. He spoke. “I see. I know who you are.” Darius opened his never sealed eyes, a fragment of the darkness removed. From behind, a glow. A sort of dark, menacing glow, though a glow nonetheless.
“Clever I know you are, you have my wit. So tell me, my child. Who am I?” The gurgling continued, a maniacal, oddly soothing, somewhat caring, voice. It echoed throughout the darkness, strangely reminiscent of Darius’ sleeping chambers, devoid of the sunlight.
“Caeseus, it is with great pleasure that I extend my greetings, pleased to meet you. May I ask, why do we meet?” Darius greeted his company, the great demon, or rather, lord of Caesony.
“I knew you to be a smart one, I created you to be so, only naturally as you and I share the same essence. Today we meet, as you hold my sacred blade. I am here to guide you, through a lifetime of great peril and pain. My boy, it will not be easy, but I assure you, the life you shall lead, will be monumentous, as fate has in store for you. May you ever need guidance, seek thy blade. Until then, I bid you farewell, my child.” With his last message, the gurgle faded.
Darius awoke, his back sprawled upon the black carpeted floor.
“With me now, you come. Darius, it is time.” King Faustus announced, a malicious grin upon his face, greatly proud of his boy, his creation.