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memshare | the trial (long)
Once upon a time, you sat on your father's knee as he told you stories of the Ravus line. The Ravuses are guardians - protectors of the continent. It is a dangerous position to be in life, but one of great honor and one your family has earned. You protect the dragonstones, treasures of great power that could destroy the whole continent in the wrong hand.
But they are just objects, after all, powerful or not. Your father tells you this - "Power in itself is neither good nor evil: it is the man who wields the blade who decides whether he fights for good or evil."
At the time, you were too young to understand what that could ever mean, but you take it to heart like you do every lesson your father taught you, and you learn to wield a blade and decide what you are going to fight for. You decide that you want to be powerful too. You want to be strong enough to protect the people who you care for. You want to protect the Ravus house.
You pick up your sword at a very young age, and you start to swing.
--
Throughout your training to be a Knight Ardante, you find yourself thinking often of your father's words. Fate took you away from the Ravus family, a choice you made with the blessing of Cordelia, and you left home to chase strength, to follow at the back of a man who saved your life, Sazantos the Flameguard, who accepts you as his apprentice. He is brilliant, azure blue. He is strong. He is the paramount of everything to you, and your entire life revolves around him.
So, when Sazantos does a turn, abruptly, taking three steps into the darkness and never looking back, he reveals that he intends to destroy the entire world, and it breaks your heart into a thousand pieces.
His plan is to raise an army from the depths of Hell to wipe out humanity - because humanity is truly wicked. Because they desire, they want, and their greed and desire and ambition are unfixable. Because power is evil, because wealth is evil, because fame is evil, and he has seen it all, and his duty is to vanquish it.
You join the Guardians of Light in his place, and you all formulate a plan to find a way to stop him, to open the Gates of Finis and bring your army to him so he can't ambush you, to face him head on. You make plans to descend into Hell with the Ringbearer chosen.
Alone in your bed the night before your first sojourn to Hell, away from the rest of the Guardians, you curl up and you cry for hours. You try to make yourself understand - power isn't good or evil, but the person who decides to wield it makes it good or evil. You try to understand how Sazantos, a paragon of righteousness and goodness and strength, was the one who went wrong. You try to understand that you have to be strong enough to stop him.
The idea terrifies you.
(But in the end, you are a Ravus. Duty and responsibility is in your blood. You will stop him.
You have to find the strength to try. )
--
In your quest to open the Gate of Finis - the gate to Hell itself - you find yourself standing in a throne room of the fallen Kingdom of Hornburg. This is now your second jaunt into Hell, and with the ringbearer chosen (and King Richard, Bargello, and Tatloch) by your side, you feel relatively confident in handling your chosen mission. The Kingdom of Hornburg was the guardian of the Gate of Finis, now locked, so surely the lost spirit of the king will have the answers you all need to get to Sazantos - to stop him - once and for all.
When you arrive to the throne room, however, you get more than you bargained for.
The king does have your answer, but he interrupts you when you introduce yourself - and then summons someone else. Sonzon the Flameguard, a man you know only from your studies of the hallowed position, a figure legendarily passed down in the sacred history of the Knights Ardante. Many years ago, Sonzon was the most powerful Flameguard in Orsterra's history - he was also the last Flameguard before Sazantos.
You stare at him, stunned. Sonzon emits this powerful, lively aura for someone who has been dead for hundreds of years, and there's something about him that feels familiar, though you can't put your finger on why. Sonzon regards you, the apprentice to the former Flameguard, as he informs you that you, should you be chosen by the flame, should be able to open the path to the Gate of Finis for the combined armies of the continent with no trouble by yourself.
(To be chosen by the Flame brings about memories - of a silver haired figure standing in front of you, wielding a perfect, brilliantly blue flame as he saved your life, as he wrest wickedness from the world - of a man in black armor now bearing that same flame in dark, poisonous black.
You've got the makings of the Flame in you, he'd said. )
You've been hanging in limbo, standing in Sazantos' too big shoes like a puppy who hasn't grown into his paws. You aren't the Flameguard, but the Flameguard himself is now the enemy, and it is your duty to take on his role. Sonzon tells you that in order to truly become worthy of the Sacred Flame, to become the Flameguard as you must do (as you have always wanted), you must pass a difficult, cruel trial, a test of your strength and your character.
But you are not afraid. If you must do what is right, then you will. You take a deep breath, and with the ringbearer chosen, you agree to take on Sonzon's trial.
And all of a sudden, the world goes black.
--
The first thing you hear is a voice. You think, dazed, at first, that it's Sazantos, and your heart leaps.
Awake...Knight who seeks power...
The voice - Sazantos? No. No, it's something bigger than that, something heavenly and holy, not an angel but a god - begins to speak to you.
( 33:08 to 35:09 )
And so, the task before you is given: to become the Flameguard in the eyes of Aelfric the Flamebringer, you must kill the Ringbearer chosen to prove your strength.
The idea horrifies you - it goes against everything you've ever believed in. You and the Ringbearer have been through so much together, and while you're still dazed and protesting, brimming with a power that feels not your own, Aelfric offers you a 'push'.
Two Sacred Flames appear beside you, and steal your life at every turn. They attack you, burning through your cloak and down to your flesh, making you scream in agony and surprise. To make matters worse, your body moves on its own - you slash at the Ringbearer chosen with sword skills you've trained for years, now, controlled like a puppet by a power that's far too strong for you. You try desperately to fight off the controlling power from the heavens that makes you harm the person you care so much for. Because that's what it is, isn't it? It's power. This is the power of the Sacred Flame. This is what you could do, if you were given the abilities to use on your own. You could smite your enemies like Sazantos did, burn away all evil as the Flame is supposed to do. You could crush everyone who stood in your path. You could become the Flameguard, powerful and strong, strong like you have always wanted.
You promised your sister you'd be strong, didn't you?
Your body hurts. You think you spit blood, because the Ringbearer chosen fights back for their life - of course they do, and you're glad for it, but between their blows and the fire sapping your life away, your knees give out and you hit the ground, gasping and painting for air.
Oh...? says Sazantos - no - says Aelfric, as you hit the ground. Is that not enough?
You beg him to stop and the burning starting to slow when he speaks. You listen to him - Sazantos - no, Aelfric, the Flamebringer lectures you about what you want. He reminds you that you are full of desires, that your ambition should require you to pay the price.
(You could never understand, Rondo. Sazantos said, facing you down in his black armor. )
Three more flames burst to life around you, your break from the pain only fleeting. It's all consuming as they attack you, blinding you in its brilliance, and you scream in pain again, tears in your eyes. Between gasps, you choke out a desperate, "Why... why would you make me do this?!"
( 44:20 to 45:12 )
Knight who seeks power. There is something that you lack.
And you think you know what Aelfric - Sazantos - Aelfric is going to say, because it's the same thing you've been told a thousand times. It's what you tell yourself, too.
You lack resolve.
( And you mumble the word in return, and it stings, because you were right. How many times will this come up in your life? How many people will look at you and tell you you don't have the guts to help anyone? How your will is missing? )
To follow the Flame requires the resolve to overcome every desire. The will to reject all else for the sake of the path you believe in.
Now. Kill the one who stands before you. Prove that you are capable of inheriting My Flame.
Prove that you are capable, Aelfric - no, Sazantos, no, Aelfric - says.
And that's what you've always wanted, Rondo. To be capable.
To be like Sazantos, to be as strong as he is, to cleave the wickedness from the world with your blade. To be his true successor, to make him proud. Don't you want that? Don't you want it? Isn't it worth one person's life?
As the battle carries on, the burning gets worse. It's agonizing as a fourth Sacred Flame bursts free from nowhere - all four attack you relentlessly now, coursing through your blood, moving your body, moving your hands and dragging you into attacking the Ringbearer chosen with all of your might. The Ringbearer chosen is gritting their teeth, still in good shape as they fight back - they start attacking the Sacred Flames and never you, despite the fact that you were harming them, that you keep harming them, because they are good and kind, because they want -
...
Because they want to help you.
--
You are in so much pain. Every part of your body burns with it - your vision swims with another strike, and you think you might be dying. This isn't even the first time in your life you've been in this kind of situation, is it? Where you've nearly died, where you weren't strong enough, where you couldn't protect anyone?
What did you say to yourself then, Rondo?
You start to push yourself back up to your feet for a third time, gripping your sword. You realize as you stand that the chosen one was successful in destroying the four flames that were controlling you, just like before. Each time you've been released from the grip of the Sacred Flame, it reconsumes you, agonizing and whole. Another break comes and you gasp for air, trembling, your vision swimming, but strangely, you feel more clear than before.
Aelfric's voice echoes, soft and almost bored in the silence.
What's the matter, power seeking knight? Do you not desire my Flame?
The Sacred Flames reappear as fast as they were vanquished. One. Two. Three. Four. Four more flames that will consume you, force you to harm the Ringbearer until they are dead, four flames that remind you that you want their power. Their abilities, their strength. That you wanted this. You desire power, power seeking knight.
You have been tasked to kill the Ringbearer chosen, who is risking their life to save you instead. You stare at them, both of you panting heavily, bleeding, burning.
What is power? It is neither good or evil - it depends on the person who wields it.
( 48:15 - 48:55 )
"I just..." you start to say, slowly. Your voice is tiny. Exhausted. You are barely holding onto your life, in the pits of despair as you have been shown again and again and again that perhaps the things you put your faith in will hurt you, but - as you make your decision, you can't feel regret, either. “...I just can't do it.”
You look into the Ringbearer's eyes, you feel something welling up in your chest, and you shake your head, against the tidal wave of grief and emotions that come to a head. Another loss. Sazantos already betrayed you. The Flame - if this is what the Flame is, then...
You say, softly. "I just... can't do it. ... I can't kill someone precious to me."
Oh?
Because you could do it, is the thing. You could harm the Ringbearer, you could kill them with this unfathomable power to claim it for yourself and the world -
But you'd rather die.
You'd rather die than hurt the people who you care for. You would rather be consumed entirely by this flame and burnt to ashes, you would rather turn your back on this path you have walked if the path asked you to harm the people you wanted to protect. Because that's what you've always wanted. Not power for power's sake. You want it to protect others. That feeling in your chest strengthens, burning, burning.
Aelfric's voice is low. Interested. Is this your resolve...?
You grit your teeth, your voice a candlelight in a dim room, flickering, but you grab onto your willpower and you curl your fingers around it. "I don't -"
And it's rising, now; you feel yourself burning but this time it's clean and bright. As you come to your moment of realization, vision swimming, body screaming in pain, you understand. And you say, soft but no less forceful for it - “I don't need that kind of power.”
Because you think, not of becoming the Flameguard. You think of the terrified children you helped on the road to Flamesgrace. You think of your sister.
The words you've heard a thousand times come out of your mouth so easily. For once, you don't need to shout. All the power in your body that's been manipulating you coalesces, and you say with complete, iron, utter resolve, the phrase that your mentor taught you and you swear you'll never forget:
"The blue flame is my soul. My guardian!"
And this time, when the Sacred Flame burns you, it burns within.
You throw all of your heart and your resolve into a swing of your sword, and with a flurry of bright, warm light and a surge of undeniable power, you vanquish all four of the remaining flames in one fell swoop.
Everything around you goes brilliant white.
--
( 49:55 - 52:00 )
And for a brief moment, you think of your sister.
You think of Sazantos - not of the black-armored betrayal he walks now, but of the Sazantos you met when you were thirteen, his broad shoulders and brilliant, azure flame. You think of how he changed your life when he looked at you that day and said, "You've got the makings of the Flame in you."
You think of Sazantos' words to you the day he came to meet you at the Ravus estate years later, to take you on as his apprentice. The weight of them makes sense to you now, more than ever.
"Whether the Flame lights your way or not depends on you. So follow your heart, and do not look back. Walk with the Flame, Rondo."
Because your heart is made to protect others. Because you want to protect the people that matter to you. because you made a promise.
Rondo Ravus, you follow your heart.
--
When your eyes blink open, you're standing in the dim, dingy throne room of Hornburg's kingdom in Hell. You're uninjured - the Ringbearer is as well, and the other three guardians are looking on. Richard cracks a joke, as he tends to do - "Hey...Rondo? Are you okay? You're kind of on fire." and King Alfred looks at you from his throne, and Sonzon stands before you, his eyes lit up. You look down at your hand.
It's consumed with blue flame.
( 52:08 to 53:49 )
You feel - unfathomably, impossibly warm. The power of the Sacred Flame surges through your veins, but it's like being doused in a warm bath, like being hugged by your sister, like being praised for your skills with the blade, like Sazantos recognizing your growth, rare as it might be. You can hardly believe it.
You did it.
Sonzon praises you, his expression overflowing with pride, but you're confused. You rejected the flame, you told it you weren't interested in its power, but it burns in your veins now, as the fire slowly dies out and fades to nothing, though you feel it pulsing like a heartbeat still.
You ask him, dazed, how this possibly worked. Sonzon informs you of the truth of the flame - that the Sacred Flame responds to your will, and that your heart is as true and blue as anyone could ever ask. You proved to the flame that you were capable of its demands because you rejected the falsities it tried to give you. You thought you were turning your back on your destiny, when in reality, turning your back was exactly what you were supposed to do.
Your mind drifts to Sazantos. How stopping him will likely mean killing him, the person who has been the center of your universe for the past ten years, and you think you understand.
You don't have much time to ruminate on it, though. The second part of the trial - another fight, this time with Sonzon himself, takes the greater part of your attention. You fight valiantly alongside your comrades, sword swinging, heart blazing, the Sacred Flame your guidance, your soul, your guardian.
When it's over and you win, he asks you your name. Your hand curls over your heart, and you start to give your name. Rondo of the Knights Ardante -
- and then you hesitate, and after a moment, you give him your full name, "Rondo...Ravus."
Sonzon recognizes you as the inheritor of the flame, and you bow to him, your heart pounding in your chest as he anoints you as the Flameguard, so impossibly warm. It's the dream you've always wanted, that you've finally earned, and for the first time, it doesn't feel bittersweet.
Behind you, you hear the King of Hornburg murmur, soft and almost amused: "Ravus... It must be fate."
And with his words, you feel the weight of your last name - Ravus line, protector of the continent - settle back into place after all of those years of giving it away.
--
When you all leave Hell, you let the others walk ahead of you for a moment, and summon up the Sacred Flame in your hands, to make sure that you still can. It flickers, pure blue and true in your palm. You silently think once more of Sazantos - the irony, that you may just now be strong enough to stand beside him, only to face him on the battlefield, instead.
But you think you understand him, now.
And though it still hurts you, that you are still soft and tender when you think of his betrayal, you know that you're ready to confront him.
For you, Rondo Ravus, followed your heart, and you walk with the Sacred Flame.