Focusing less upon the background, the footsteps of one with the familiar face had now halted. The Lamia-possessed Raphael stood imposing before the dark-robed young man, who tightened up with a sense of question upon his face. The look in Daevarro's eyes was similar to how Telvern looked as he stared upon Lamia: distrustful, doubtful.
Then down below his right eye, he saw motion coming from Raphael's left hand. His hazel eyes glanced towards the ground, seeing as the hand which carried his sister's pendant was held up and exposed. Lamia raised Raphael's left hand up to about the height of the middle of Daevarro's torso, opening it up and revealing the pendant to the young man.
She looked to be holding it out to him, like she were giving it back to him. Daevarro raised his eyebrow, sliding his right hand out towards Raphael's opened hand. His deathly pale skinned hand parked up against the hand of the silver-haired young man that he had befriended, his palm held opened and pointing towards the ceiling.
Lamia then looked down upon Daevarro's empty palm, slowly reaching her right hand for his hand. Raphael's right hand gently grabbed the back of Daevarro's right hand, the hand that laid opened. And soon, Daevarro's hand would be filled, feeling as something had been laid upon his palm. He recognized the object, feeling its exceptionally smooth body, its familiar light weight.
He looked down upon Raphael's hand under Lamia's control, his face reflecting his shock and bemusement. He realized it then, the Neheztelian goddess had given it back to him. She held Raphael's left hand just over his right hand, looking down upon that exchange just as Daevarro did. She seemed grievous of her past actions towards the young man, but it wasn't something she regretted doing.
Daevarro's perplexed face then turned the Lamia-possessed Raphael, his eyes barreling upon his fair skinned face. "...Why?" he muttered the only thing he could think to say.
Raphael's purple eyes were then concealed behind his eyelids, Lamia having shut his eyes. "''Tis a simple answer," she explained to him, moving Raphael's left hand upon the back of Daevarro's fingers. She then pushed those fingers, closing his hand in a fist. His hand now closed, securing the pendant as a sign that it's his. Raphael's purple eyes were revealed once more, a sort of kindness appeared vividly upon his eyes, an adoration only given by a mother. "What is borrowed must be returned."
The young man simply stood there, astounded, speechless, he couldn't even get out a thought to himself. She looked to Daevarro truly like he were her son, even a very faint smile appeared on the face of the one she controlled. "This was your sister's pendant, was it not?" Lamia then went on, hinting at their previous meeting before today.
Back at Lumbridge, when Daevarro was still enthralled by the rage that had suddenly infested his heart. Lamia then possessed Lucia to keep her from killing the young man and had reached for the pendant, but Daevarro stopped her from touching
"his sister's pendant."
Just remembering that brought back so many things to the young man, memories of his sister in particular.
He looked down upon their exchange, the bridge between one and the other. A soul-crushing sorrow became deeply seated within him, its image reflecting upon his visage. He simply and slowly shook his head up-and-down, confirming her words as fact. Lamia then moved Raphael's hands back down to her side, seeing now as Daevarro looked to his clenched fist with such vast grief.
"I know not what history has made of me," the goddess disclosed, her voice as she spoke was in the purest, most sincere shape. "But rest assured, I've not an ill-conceived ploy upon either you or your friends. I desire not to bring harm upon any of you, but rather, assist you, give aid to your cause."
"So, why didn't you just tell me?" Daevarro then asked, looking up into the unknown interior of the familiar house. "With all the time you spent trying to convince me, you could've just told me about what was happening and we could've figured something out."
"Perhaps my actions were not of sound judgment," she replied, affirming somewhat with Daevarro's words. "You've my apologies if I inflicted any type of harm upon you,
Palaemmir
. But you must understand, I had to get to them posthaste, lest their hearts be ceased of all function. I simply could not risk the situation amounting to anything more than it did."
Within their conversation, Daevarro's ears heard a lot of commotion in the background. It sounded like the counting of numbers, starting from three going backwards. At its end, the dagger-like cry of pain blared off into the air. It was followed by a grumble, sounding like a person trying to cope with newfound agony. "That still doesn't quite answer why you couldn't have just told me," declared the dark-robed young man, speaking as the familiar-voiced grumbles pressed on.
"It seems I owe many such things," the goddess commented, then turning Raphael's body one-hundred-and-eight degrees. His front now facing what was behind him, staring now upon the crowd still upon their knees. Just passed them was the group for whom Lamia had rescued, had delivered from a certain death. Lamia then looked back upon Daevarro, seeing him as he looked upon the familiar young man with such strain. "Come, let us seek out your friends."
His legs became animated once more, Lamia putting one of his feet before the other. Daevarro noticed as Raphael grew further from him, his face looking outwards towards the group of Telvern, Calvin, and Shinon. He was worried over them, although just at peace that they were well enough to walk around. He wanted to make absolutely sure, his concerns giving his legs fuel.
But just as those worries welled up in his heart, his thirst for knowledge pulled him in as well. Knowing now that his search for answers was far from over, and with the prospect of them being given definition, Daevarro felt himself on the prowl. He hunted for them, sought them out.
One foot planted boldly out before him, Daevarro walked just behind the back of the silver-haired young man, following his every step. They passed by the circle of black-cloth bodies, all of them still down upon their knees. Their faces hiding in the ground, their arms stretched out in front of them, their hands clenched together like they were praying.
Daevarro curiously looked upon each and every single one of them, they had not moved even an inch since they surrounded their goddess. They laid completely still, almost like they weren't really people at all, becoming like rocks of obsidian. Those Lamians dared not even breathe, make a sudden movement, even make a sound.
Lamia passed by them like they weren't even there, like they were but the stone that she made Raphael's feet step down upon. The goddess' stern, rigid eyes focused only on the three, seeing them there around the table. Upon that time-tested wood was a craggy, roughly shaped shard of adamas, one that was like the fang of a vampire, having tasted blood.
Reflecting off of the strong amethysts that made Raphael's irises, a faint, warming, soothing white light. It appeared there as it gently took Calvin in its arms, finding his pain immediately lifted. Telvern had summoned his trusted Unicorn Stallion, a beautiful, radiant animal whom lowered its head and pointed its majestic, spiraled horn towards Calvin's injured, bleeding right leg.
Calvin watched the injury, feeling as the lukewarm, healing touch began to melt his pain and wound away. "Wow..." he mumbled, his eyes alight and completely astonished. The glowing stopped then, the healing upon his leg complete. The wound didn't even seem like it was ever there, only leaving upon a hole in his pants where the shard had ripped through to get to his leg as a painful reminder. "I forgot how useful yer summons were."
The assassin then just causally hopped up to his feet, gripping his left shoulder with his right hand. He looked over at his left shoulder, finding that he was no longer burdened by the pain it once screamed with. As he came to this conclusion, he had to test it. He began spinning his left arm around like a wheel, playing around it. "Dang, even got my shoulder," he realized, smirking as a show that he was quite happy with the result. Calvin's rather joyous face then turned to Telvern, who was just in front of him. "Thank ya much, egghead, yer a flippin' lifesaver!"
The genius could hear from just behind him as both Lamia and Daevarro came towards them, his steely gaze turning as far left as he could get them. "Get the archer next," Telvern ordered the stallion, clenching tightly upon his side.
Not going to attempt to argue against its master's word, the unicorn stepped away from Calvin. Its shimmering blonde hair flailing to its left, its glowing, piercing yellow eyes planted firmly upon Shinon. The archer was seated just on the other side of the table that Calvin was sitting by, his black-as-coal irises scrolling with the stallion as it made its move over to him.
After he gave his command, Telvern immediately turned around. His front now facing the one who possessed his nephew, finding Raphael standing just before him with Daevarro just off to his right. "I believe you owe us an explanation," the genius' voice came out as angrily and suddenly as a powerful storm, his eyes hurling blades of lightning.
"Indeed," Lamia concurred with Telvern. "I am an opened book to you all, you need only look through these pages to acquire the answers to all of your questions."
"What reason would you have to intervene in our affairs?" asked Telvern. "Why now?"
"I've always had a hand in your business," the goddess responded. "Be it setting the stage for certain events, or simply being there as needed, I've regularly participated in your cause. You may not have seen it, being as I've hid behind the curtains, but I've always been at your side, on your side."
"So, you've just decided that you're going to make your appearance now,"
"
Igja,
" she answered in her native tongue. "I felt it the appropriate time to approach this more... directly."
"The heck even happened back dere?" Calvin came in with a question, his right side being engulfed in faint light by the unicorn whom had begun to heal Shinon. "I mean, wit' the Elder Gods an' all dat."
"As I believe you've begun to suspect, those were not the Elder Gods," the Neheztelian explained. "They were but impersonators, mortal Solasúians who wore a façade that foolhardily mimicked our creators. They stole power from another, someone I am... unfamiliar with. And with this power, they created their imaginary mask, claimed themselves our creators and ruled over the Solasúians. They sought the deaths of the Solasúians for daring to abandon them, for leaving the homeworld. Incapable of travelling to Gielinor to deal with the Solasúians themselves, these thieves crafted a being to carry out their will. But this being died before it could receive its full power, before it could go beyond its infancy."
"So, who was dis prototype, anyhows?" The assassin asked, curiously. "Those... guys were talkin' some
reaaaal
smack 'bout 'im."
"You knew him as Uriel Sera," she answered, catching everyone save Telvern off guard. Lamia looked to the genius, watching as his eyes strayed away. She could feel his shame, his remorse, and his regret that he stole that boy's life well up inside of him. "Let go your guilt, child. 'Twas best that that child's life be ended, for who knows what this world would be like if he were released upon it at full power?"
Telvern's stoic gaze beamed back over to the face of his nephew, crossing his arms together like a shield meant to protect him. "...So, what of Raphael?" the genius then questioned, his voice an attempt to push past his anguish.
"He was their last, desperate resort," Lamia went on. "They learned of the death of their creation, the being for which they've spent the past eighty-five years polishing. If they could not create their planned weapon, they had to compromise, start one not from the base but start from one already made. As which, they elected to use a body already born into this life, use them as the vessel for their final delivery of power. Although, 'twould not compare nearly so to the being they envisioned they'd unleash upon the Solasúian race. Nevertheless, they deployed their servant to bring in their candidate, the perfect host for their scheme: Raphael Divus Barn."
The genius then clenched his chin with his right hand, thinking deeply upon this topic. "He drew them into him," he began to ponder. "In order to draw power from something, one must make a connection to the source. Of course, doing that is like pumping water from a lake. You'll get water, yes, but there might be irregularities to flow along with it."
"Indeed," the goddess agreed, sounding almost impressed by Telvern's knowledge of the subject. "Upon establishing a bridge between himself and them, the thieves quickly took advantage of Raphael and overpowered his consciousness. They commandeered his body, his mind, and thus, he became their makeshift weapon. The moment that they did, I sensed it and made haste. I took over one of my faithful, acquired the power of my pendant, and teleported to Solasúila. My arrival to the room was met with resistance, which I quickly disposed of. Once I drew closely to Raphael, I made contact with him. With it, I could sever the bonds that tied him to them, set his body and mind free from their negative influence which would force him into servitude, into the fate of a tool."
"And what about the thieves?" Telvern then asked. "When you woke me up, they were gone."
"I killed them," she candidly answered. "They were physical beings taking on an omnipotent form as an illusion, so I disposed of them. Now the remnants of the stolen power lies permanent within Raphael's body, so I must stay with him constantly so that its effects do not corrupt him."
"So, where's Raphael now?" the dark-robed young man's voice then chimed in with a question of his own.
"He slumbers within," Lamia gave clearance, looking over at Daevarro. "He will awaken soon, become aware to all that we've discussed, of this destiny upon him."
"Destiny?"
"'Tis in my earnest belief that he is meant to become the ruler as his father and mother envisioned," she expressed. "I must protect him to ensure that he does meet such a day, kindred to you,
Palaemmir.
"
Shinon raised his eyebrow. "And what exactly is so special about them?" the red-haired archer questioned. "Why
must
you protect them?"
"'Twas asked of me to do so," she revealed. "I can feel the life and hear the words of my children, those who have pledged themselves to me. There was two such children who prayed to me, one asking of me to shield their newborn son, for they could not fulfill that duty themselves. The other asking of me to guide and guard well a dear friend, for they could no longer. Willing even were they to forfeit their life in exchange for this wish, one life for another."
"...And did they surrender their lives?" the genius then asked, almost like he knew one who Lamia was referring to.
"...Yes," Lamia answered, speaking with a somber tone.
Telvern turned his head away in this instance, his brown eyes straying away from the Neheztelian goddess. "I see..." he acknowledged her reply, his voice hushed, but something about it was... odd. There was something locked away, something lurking below its low tone.
"So, is that why you protected me against Lucia?" Daevarro questioned Lamia, looking up at her with expectation.
The goddess gazed down upon the young man, staring into his hazel eyes with Raphael's purple irises. "
Igja,
" she confirmed.
"So, who asked you?"
"I'm afraid I am not at liberty to say,
Palaemmir,
" Lamia unfortunately rejected the dark-robed young man's question, one that had so long hung on his tongue. "but I suspect you've an idea to who."
For obvious reasons, Daevarro seemed disappointed. Yet, walking in perfect integration with this hard-to-swallow feeling, a harmonious sense of knowledge, of theory. Indeed, he did have an idea to whom might have been the one. His mind looking back to that day in Governanti, where flames danced and devoured all in its all-consuming path.
He recalled those strange words echoing faintly all throughout the cave-like pathway his trembling body staggered around in, words he could not hear if it weren't for his Solasúian hearing. Regardless of it all, Daevarro headed off to his next question. "How are you still alive?" repeated Daevarro, finally able to get that question he asked in his last encounter with Lamia.
"Yeah, kinda curious 'bout dat myself," Calvin seconded Daevarro's question. "I mean, there's books 'n parchment tellin' us dat ya were still alive, but never explainin' how. Kinda makes a guy wonder, y'know?"
"Upon my imminent death at the hands of Dias and his army, I departed my physical shell and took on an incorporeal form," she explained, raising eyebrows. "'Tis for this reason I require the possession of others to converse, unless they themselves are among the few who can sense my presence."
"Woah, hold a sec there," said Calvin. "Ya said, "Dias
an'
his army," right? So, it wasn't just 'im who defeated ya?"
"
Dego,
" she responded, shaking her head side-to-side. "Believe not the corrupted words your minds have come to know as truth, 'twas not a sole effort which felled me in that final fight. Dias hid behind his army whilst they did battle with me, he simply swooped in as I was wounded. Upon fighting and sacrificing himself to stop me and save his people, his son claimed the fight as only his father's to augment Dias' image."
"Well, augment it did," the assassin remarked. "He's only
everywhere
ya look 'n Governanti! A face dere, a big o' statue 'ere, "Oh, look, they sell lil' statuettes-a Dias 'n dis store" 'ere... Yeah, he's pretty much inescapable!"
"Well, I don't really much care about all that," Shinon brushed off all of the discussion had thus far. "All I care about is now and what's up next for us."
