Chapter Nineteen: Capvita Part One
Zaw Rronov couldn’t tend to his newest apprentice and personal disciple himself as the autumn, harvest, season approached. Every season, for a week, the clan leaders of the legendary dynasties met together at one of the capitals to discuss their problems, concerns, and plans for the upcoming season. Zaw Rronov was the oldest clan leader in attendance, however it was the leader of the Tong Clan that looked so old, with a long tuft of goat-like facial hair dangling from his chin. Of course, Zaw Rronov was biased, since there was no one able to deny the dislike between the Zaw Clan and the Tong Clan. They had been in conflict since they were founded.
This season’s gathering was hosted in Aurumte, specifically in Capvita, which rested in the center of the capital city Seritium. There were some benefits to meeting at Capvita, especially for Zaw Rronov, but none of them had to do with the gaudy decor or the fact he could get away from his first son’s pleading eyes, as if he had earned anything but his father’s disdain due to his only reliable feature being his propensity to fail. The less was said about Zaw Rronov’s second son, the better for everyone, but in short, he was just as much of a failure as the first whelp his wife birthed, if not more so.
Instead, Zaw Rronov was joined by his third cousin, the main healer of the Zaw Clan despite her tender age, and Elder Matsha, who had left Nilhin -- the only promising thing to have stumbled into the Zaw Clan since his own birth -- in charge of taking care of the letters in her stead. It was a great honor for Matsha to allow anyone to take over her duties so thoroughly, so Nilhin must have displayed excellence in his work for her as much as he had continuously strided leaps and bounds despite the many challenges against him when it came to casting magic. Even Shamisa, his first son, had reported Nilhin’s consistent efforts to wield a sword, and despite his weak body, he had managed to last a good time before being knocked down by Shamisa in the ring.
As they walked up the steps of Capvita, they were greeted with simpering servants dressed in pale pink dresses, all of which were beautiful young women that the clan leader no doubt liked to fondle whether they agreed or not. Zaw Rronov couldn’t help but to stare at the extravagant displays of wealth, the golden statues kept clean by intensive servant labour, and the bountiful and ornate foods being presented to the entering guests on golden platters, with a scowl.
It was no secret that the Zaw Clan was the most wealthy clan of the legendary dynasties, but even they were more modest than the Luc Clan and their flagrant displays. Such money, Zaw Rronov was fortunate to know, came from immoral activities and businesses that the other clan leaders would certainly balk at, if not fight over ending. Zaw Rronov, however, didn’t care what made Luc Gallus, the filthy clan leader, his money as long as he didn’t dip his toes into his territory of Tbai to get it.
“Big brother Rronov!” Luc Gallus called as soon as they were within eyeline of one another. Luc Gallus strode over, abandoning his adorned wife and his stiff, awkward son to the other guests. Luc Gallus held a golden chalice brimming with wine. Luc Gallus stopped before Zaw Rronov, hsi red cheeks indicating that he had already imbibed much of his drink before he came sauntering over.
“Gallus,” Zaw Rronov greeted cooly.
“Oh, always so stiff!” Luc Gallus looked at Refti, the healer, and Matsha, but his eyes focused on his third cousin, who was admittedly a beautiful young woman. She looked more like Zaw Rronov than she did of her own parents, but they were all related, so they were bound to have similarities. “And who is this young beauty?”
“Head healer Zaw Refti,” she introduced herself, holding her hands forward and bowing as was polite. It was not polite to not have greeted both Refti and Matsha, but Luc Gallus likely didn’t care, since he only treated women he wanted to sleep with with any sort of decency or respect, and that only lasted until he had them.
“A healer!” Luc Gallus exclaimed with a laugh. “My, what are you doing here? Where are Shamisa or Awuron? I’m sure my own son wouldn’t mind meeting with his future allies more often than he’s allowed to now.”
“I’ve asked her to attend with me to keep an eye on Elder Matsha’s health. She is a hundred and six years old, and a great advisor. It would be a major loss if she were to fall ill in foreign territory,” Zaw Rronov said. He tilted his head to the side, glazing at the Daha Clan and the Hvit Clan who were in attendance, the latter of which was fully interested in the Tong Clan because the young clan leader of the Hvit and the first prince of the Tong Clan were close. They were the topic of many rumors insisting on their homosexual desires for one another, but Zaw Rronov could neither care for rumors nor the sexual preference of people that didn’t matter.
“That would be terrible, brother,” Luc Gallus said, giving Matsha a suspicious side eye before he returned his attention to Refti. “Maybe you would enjoy seeing the infirmary of Capvita. I could show you the way if you’d like, young lady.”
Zaw Rronov set his hand on his third cousin’s shoulder. He would rather die than leave Luc Gallus unaccompanied with anyone remotely attractive. There was no telling what such a salacious man might do to his cousin, especially since she was a healer and rather underschooled in the art of defensive or offensive maneuvers.
“Refti will stay with Matsha during this meeting, for Matsha’s interest,” Zaw Rronov announced, and there was no way that Luc Gallus would deny him.
“Oh, yes, of course. Maybe another time,” Luc Gallus said, drinking from his cup. “Why don’t you come and mingle? It’s been quite some time since you’ve distracted the wench for me. Please, big brother, make this event more fun for your younger brother.” Luc Gallus pouted, but it didn’t work well on his face. In the end, Zaw Rronov did indeed approach ‘the wench’ which was Luc Gallus’ wife. Matsha and Refti followed behind him. As Zaw Rronov approached Lady Luc, a woman who was once more well known as Nandiv Momi, one of the legendary duo of women mages that killed a massive amount of beasts, demons, and even took down devils together, he bowed his head to acknowledge her. She did the same. While Luc Gallus ought to bow, between real power, there was no such need for simpering behaviour.
“It’s not often I get to encounter The Swift Breeze in person,” Zaw Rronov said. The Swift Breeze being the sobriquet Lady Luc had earned herself with her deadly and unseen techniques for slaughter. “I’ve only heard much from your husband.”
“I hope he only mentions the good things,” she said, with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, nor did it taint her tone. She wanted to be at this stupid place as much as Zaw Rronov did.
“I find that Luc Gallus speaks of whatever pops into his mind, no matter the consequence,” Zaw Rronov said. “Please, meet head healer Zaw Refti and Elder Zaw Matsha, my cousin and aunt.” Lady Luc held her hands out and bowed to them both, of course, Refit and Matsha did the same in return.
“It’s excellent to meet you, head healer Zaw Refit and Elder Zaw Matsha,” Lady Luc said. “Is there, perhaps, something I could help his excellence with? Surely such a prolific clan leader would be more entertained with those of his status than the wife of his colleague.”
Zaw Rronov looked at the others, gathered around the golden statues, eating and waiting to be shown to their rooms before dinner would start. The official discussions would only take place starting the next day, once they were rested from their travel. He didn’t wish to speak with them at all, he only needed them because without them, he would have to rule all the territories himself, and Aishold was a very large continent that he didn’t have the manpower, yet, to properly command. He only had two sons, and neither were competent enough to take over for him.
Speaking of competent sons, there was a stranger standing by the first son, second child, of the Daha Clan’s leader.
“Who is that young man, Lady Luc? I’m afraid I’ve never laid my eyes upon him before,” Zaw Rronov admitted. She followed his eyes and scoffed before she looked down at her long nails, coated in shiny-but-clear lacquer. The Daha Clan’s Lady, the wife of the clan leader, was the second part of the duo that Lady Luc was once a part of, arguably the fiercer of the two, a woman named Deni Tsedi, but called Nitini, meaning violent thunder, for her notorious and spine-chilling war cries and victory calls. If anything was known about the Daha Clan, it was Lady Luc through her sworn sister’s letters.
“That’s the ingrate that clan leader Daha took in as a child. He was recently hailed as the head disciple, but it’s clear that he’s as good as a son to the man. I suppose with his daughter’s disappointing cultivation, and his son taking after his mother, he went to that brat instead. Give it a few years, and surely he’ll be adopted.”
“Adopted?” Zaw Rronov asked. It was nearly impossible for someone to be adopted into the main family of a clan, even more so a legendary dynasty. Blood and bloodline were very sacred among mages. To adopt someone, especially someone unworthy, was… the consequences of it were so fierce that nobody was bold enough to truly do so, although it wasn’t unheard of for clan leaders to adopt useful disciples into their distant family to bring more esteem to them. In fact, the greatest swordsman, and another master of internal alchemy, was adopted by some of Zaw Rronov’s cousins only a few years earlier, and the man, Zaw Ous, had already made quite a name for himself since.
“It’s disgusting,” Lady Luc said. “To take in a street rat and raise him like your own? What has this world come to?”
Zaw Rronov thought about Nilhin, a smart, clever, and ambitious boy. One who knew that Zaw Rronov wanted to use him, but also, Zaw Rronov had no false ideas that Nilhin wasn’t planning to use Zaw Rronov just as much in return. In fact, Nilhin was the most interesting, precious, powerful…
The consequences of adopting non-blood into the main family were severe, so much so that for centuries it had been undone, but was Nilhin worth the risk? Nilhin, who constantly met if not exceeded his expectations, all while the boy looked down, afraid that he had been a failure. His confidence needed work, and his self-esteem, but he could make a fine third prince, and perhaps with one worthy son, he could begin his plans to get rid of the middlemen and take Aishold for himself. If only Nilhin knew other worthy people to assist as territory rulers, because as powerful as Zaw Rronov was, he wasn’t omniscient.
Matsha was looking at Zaw Rronov as he came to his great conclusions. He wanted to adopt Nilhin, to take him into the main family, and have him, a competent young man with boundless power, help him complete his goals of unifying Aishold under his rule, to abolish the sanctimonious and self-righteous bastards like the Tong Clan, and get rid of the suspicious perverts like Luc Gallus causing a mess. Matsha seemed to either know what he was thinking, or she could draw her own conclusions and land at the same place.
“What a shame,” Zaw Rronov said, looking at the smiling boy, who hooked his arm around the stiff-shouldered prince of Daha like they were no different than brothers in every way that mattered.
“Would it be too much to ask the famous Swift Breeze to show us to our rooms? The journey has been quite tedious, and as you’ve realised, socialisation isn’t something I’ve ever taken joy in doing,” Zaw Rronov asked. Lady Luc nodded.
“Of course. If you would please follow me,” she said. She petted her son, Calpurnius’, hair as she walked past him with all the love of an overprotective and overbearing mother since Calpurnius was almost a young man rather than a child, and guided them cross the white marble floors, and towards lavish rooms constructed with the same white stone. The doors were made of some type of wood, but covered in pristine golden foil.
“Thank you, Lady Luc,” he said, properly bowing to her. She did the same, before she excused herself.
“Adoption?” Matsha asked once they were alone. “You can’t be serious.”
They were still outside the rooms, but there were only servants nearby, and they were minding their own business. If they didn’t, they’d have much more trouble than Luc Gallus could think to give them.
“Shamisa is a disappointment, and Awuron is better left unmentioned. Who else has proven so capable and clever? Who else is so unique, a treasure that we dare not waste. Who else but someone so destined for greatness, should be the son of someone like me?” he asked. It wasn’t well-known, but Zaw Rronov was human, but not entirely so. He wasn’t a paragon, he had been born fully human, he just hadn’t stayed that way, ascending to immortality through his powerful apex and unorthodox cultivating techniques. His mastery in the understanding of internal alchemy was the greatest benefit to his learning.
He had thought being an immortal by the time his sons were born, he could transfer some of his power to them, but they had come out, and quickly proved to be little more than nuisances, and Awuron had killed his mother as she expelled his whining mass from her body, so he hadn’t bothered to try for any more useless whelps following the first two mistakes.
“They are still your sons,” Matsha said. “Your real sons. There are other ways to get the boy into your family without adopting him.”
“Are you suggesting I marry him to one of my brats?” he asked, his voice quiet as he considered the mess that would make. He would happily kill both of them if that meant he could keep Nilhin. Was there something Matsha didn’t understand about the fact Nilhin was a fox paragon, arguably the most powerful creature outside of the celestials themselves?
“That’s one course of action, yes,” she said. “Or you could let me adopt him.”
Zaw Rronov smirked. So, Matsha wanted the glory of having Nilhin under her more direct hold, did she? That’s what this was. She wanted the power for herself, but she hadn’t lived quite so long, and gotten quite so powerful, because she was afraid to stab her own family in the back. She had competed with five other siblings to get where she was at, after all, and outlived them all in the end.
“Too distant,” he decided. “I’ll adopt him. Do you have any more wise words to say to try and deter my absolute position on this matter?”
“There is no changing your mind, nephew,” she said. She went to the door to her room. “Please, excuse me for now. I’ll see you both during dinner.” Matsha left to pout in her room, no doubt, and Refti also took her leave, offering a proper bow before she left Zaw Rronov. He entered the room that he would live in for the next week, and scowled at the superfluous design of everything in sight. He sat on the bed, crossing his legs, and resting his wrists on his knees. He would take a moment to properly circulate his energy, to gain further insight into what he may need to do. Sometimes, now that he was above both mortality and humanity, he could gain great insights through his meditations, with a process similar to divination occurring.
When he opened his eyes, once the sun had set, he only came to one conclusion: he would have to adopt Nilhin, and with the adoption, he can finally begin properly planning for a long-overdue expansion.
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