RuneScape Forum Archive | Fall From Grace

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2020

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Chapter 21: Enemy, Familiar Friend Part 2

Darkness had devoured the Resistance, a fearsome spree of justified murder cutting their ranks to the point of no longer existing. Victory was assured, and the clashing of blades was over. Humanity was lost, left to lay silently just like the bodies of the people who now covered Lumbridge.

After being directed by his sister, Balor had traveled down the dark hallways of the western wing. Finding his way to the room which held the stairs down to the prison room, Balor strolled into the room, stepping over the kicked in door.

Telvern's eyes bolted off in that direction, seeing the radiant armour of the king walk into his line of sight. Balor stepped into the room, his sapphire, glowing eyes cutting through the darkness of the windowless room. Balor stepped into the candle's light that was sitting on the table in the center of the room, stepping over to Telvern.

"Aww..." Telvern then spoke, seeing his king stepping over to his cell. "I knew you wouldn't forget about me!"

Being in front of Telvern's cell, Balor launched his right foot towards the door. That surging power he received from Soter flowed through him, making him even more powerful than he already was. The aged, rusted iron door was simply unable to hold, easily being kicked in. The door slamming upon the floor kicked up some dust, some dirt, scattering it across the air.

The king's eyes laid heavy upon the genius, who eagerly hopped off of his bed. Without even looking into his head, Telvern could just feel it... Balor didn't come down here to free him, did he? "Speak," the king demanded, rancor hiding under the covers of his voice. "how long have you had knowledge of Raphael?"

""Knowledge of Raphael"?" the genius quoted, being sure to understand exactly what the king was asking. "Err... A couple of years, maybe?"
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14-Aug-2014 14:59:10

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The king's left hand then pushed forward swiftly, its palm jolting for Telvern's chest. Balor's hand bounced off the genius' chest hard, forcing Telvern backwards. He got pushed heavily, his back hitting the cold stone-brick wall behind him. It was a loud thud, the back of his head whiplashing against the wall. He grunted, feeling the strong impact upon his back in its entirety.

The next thing the genius knew, he opened his steely gaze forward, seeing the twinkle of a lustrous, astounding blade press just underneath his chin. The Arbandor, the beautiful blade held by the king's hand. was held up to Telvern's throat as he was pinned to the wall. The unshaken, impatient, unmerciful, judge-like stare of the king pressed on its assault, attacking anyone who stood against him.

"I advise you best start cutting out the lies, Telvern," the king then angrily suggested, almost ordered.

"What I'm telling you is the truth, my lord," Telvern claimed, not daunted by Balor's obvious threat beckoning for his life. "I know not how else to satisfy you."

"Allow me to rephrase the question, then," Balor continued. "How long have you had knowledge of Raphael's birth? Of his father actually being Divus and not Markus Béla?"

The genius then appeared shocked, putting up an act. "I've-I've had no such knowledge," Telvern responded, his imitation of shock and confusion could be bought easily by anyone. He then felt the blade press closer, cutting into the first layer of his skin now. "I... I was n-never aware, sire! H-honest t-to Lord Dias, my l-lord, I-I swear I n-never knew!"

"I grow weary of this charade," Balor then returned. "Lucia told me about Raphael, and she specifically said, "Telvern told me." Speak truthful now, or else my blade will speak in a way I think you won't quite like..."
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14-Aug-2014 15:02:33

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Telvern ceased all motion at this moment, Balor seeing the real Telvern rising from the depths of the bootlicker's carcass. He saw as the genius' disgruntled, rigid, bitter expression formed, something that was familiar, that was very trademark of the genius in his presence. The king knew he had gotten through, broken through the glass.

Telvern sighed, dropping his focus. He then recaptured that fort of clarity, turning his eyes and glancing directly into Balor's eyes, the illuminated sea of blue. "I could only suspect it for a while," Telvern then honestly answered the king, giving him the real thing. At least, it's what he wanted Balor to believe. "Even as I told your sister, I could only suspect him being an heir to the throne. But when Raphael came here and told me, then I knew."

"You're still weaving lies, Telvern,"

"I'm always weaving lies,"

"Then enough of it," Balor irefully lashed. "Tell me now, how long have you known!?"

"I told you already," he growled. "What more would you like? For me to just tell you where my sister is? Hmm?! Because even I don't know that."

Balor growled in anger, still believing Telvern was twirling a web of lies all around him. Fed up with the deception, the king's left hand then quickly latched onto Telvern's forehead. His fingers dug very deeply into Telvern's scalp, his thumb going into his left temple. Like a syringe, Balor began to drain Telvern's mind, searching the contains of Telvern's memory.

It was like a endless stream of thoughts being crammed into his skull, his eyes calmly shuffling through pages and pages of books, their surfaces covered in the images and thoughts of the days throughout the genius' life, or perhaps things he's acquired, things he recalled. Scouring through Telvern's memories, Balor found the one he was looking hectically for.
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14-Aug-2014 15:06:44

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2020

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Telvern then felt the draw, the drain upon his memory. He began to lose the grasp upon that picture frame, bits and pieces being ripped off of the painted portrait's face. Despite his eyes opened to the world, Balor no longer saw the real world. In the king's vision, a world began to come into fruition. Piece by piece, block by block, this structure known as memory came to be built.

Lifetimes of work were built in mere seconds, buildings formed, streets were aligned, and the sky itself stretched out in front of him. It was midnight, heaven itself was a dark blue upon this luminous night. The moon was full, its silver shine causing darkness to depart and fall behind the very corners of the world. Near black clouds engulfed sections of the sky, but nothing would stop the army of light from toppling over all.

From a first-person-point-of-view, Balor could see into the eyes of his father. The king was staring out into the endless blue ceiling above the world, its enlarged iris that was always staring. But its iris was blind, casting out a blank, white stare that would fall without words, gazing at everyone indiscriminately.

The king had his right hand planted against a clear glass frame, watching his hollow city ringing out with the gentle murmur of the wind. His image appeared vividly upon the glass' surface, looking much younger than he did nineteen years later. He was clean shaven, his hair shorter, his face carried less wrinkles.

Whimpering under his lips, a heavy, concerned sigh. His mind like a pendulum, constantly swinging from one thought to another, never finding a moment to cease, to halt. He then smiled warmly, closing his eyes. "You never cease, do you?" he questioned the air, then opening his eyes and turning to his right.
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14-Aug-2014 15:09:36 - Last edited on 16-Sep-2014 16:48:00 by Serene End

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A woman appeared in his vision, sitting down on a wooden chair beside a table. Her abdomen was enlarged like the moon, bulging out. The moon's light cast down upon her, her black hair reflecting this light. She was beautiful, this woman, her face noble and strong, yet kind and gentle. "I can't help it," she then replied, her purple eyes gazing upon him with affection. "Watching over you has become something of a habit."

She then stood up from the chair, walking slowly over to Divus. "And don't expect it to change even after I become a mother," she continued.

"Astrid," Divus named with seriousness, his smile going down. "listen to me for a moment, please."

She noticed the very earnest look upon his face, knowing well that something had been bothering him. "What is it?" Astrid asked with worry.

"I'm concerned," he confessed, torn apart by his thoughts, the very thing he was about to convey. "I fear someone will find out about this. And... I fear what will happen to you and our child if they do. I won't be able to stop it, I won't be able to protect you."

He then fought back words, he didn't want to fully tell her all that he held in his head, in fear that it would bring her to suffer. His head screamed for his jaw to move, but his heart kept his lips locked. Standing at his side, Astrid placed her left hand on his back. "Hey," she quietly mumbled to him. "Don't worry about it, okay? Nothing is going to happen to us."

Divus peered out into the night, shaking his head. "I can't risk it," his voice finally managed to break down those barriers that his heart placed, closing his eyes. "I want you to take our child out of the city. Go back home, go back to—"

"—Divus," Astrid's voice then punched a wide hole through his voice. "look at me."
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14-Aug-2014 15:12:57

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Doing as requested, the jaws of his eyes opened, turning his head in her direction. His indigo, glowing eyes fell into her purple eyes, he saw the very real, truthful look upon her face, it was both calm and serious, composed. Her left hand reached up, caressing his right cheek. "I won't let anything happen to us," she asserted. "If anyone finds out, I won't let them escape with the truth. I will kill them before they even realize what it is that they found out."

She then smiled softly. "So, be at peace, my love," she told him, brushing across his cheek with her thumb. "We're going to do this together."

Divus reached his hand for hers, clenching onto it. He then lightened up, his facial expression loosening. Her smile a contagion, infecting Divus' face. He mimicked her, a light smile growing upon his face. "We've yet decided a name," he then mentioned, rubbing his thumb against her hand.

She chuckled shortly. "You're right, we haven't," Astrid realized. "Have any ideas?"

"If it's a girl... Ella," Divus replied. "If it's a boy... Avitus."

"Ella and Avitus..." Astrid mumbled to herself, repeating and smiling.

"So," spoke Divus. "have any ideas?"

"I've thought about it," she explained. "If it's a girl... Prisca, after my grandmother."

"And if it's a boy?"

"Hmm..." Astrid pondered for a moment, until the answer came to her as though a lightbulb turned on in her head. "If it's a boy... Raphael, Raphael Divus Barn."

"Putting my name as a second?" the king noticed, raising his eyebrows.

"D-do you not like it?"

He shook his head. "No," Divus then returned, his smile grow larger. "it's perfect."

In the kind, compassionate light of the silver sun, the two wrapped their arms around each other. They held the other in a loving, warmhearted embrace, to both comfort each other from their anxiety over the unpredictable, dangerous future and to relish in their happiness. Such love and affection was felt by just standing their presence, impossible to separate.
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14-Aug-2014 15:16:44

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Balor's mind receded back to the real world, finding his stomach turned and thoroughly sickened by the thought. He let go of Telvern's forehead, appearing indefinitely disgusted with what his eyes had to watch. Balor backed up, clenching onto his mouth with his left hand, being on the verge of gagging.

Telvern appeared stoic, like he were suppressing his emotions. His eyes harshly fixed upon the king, who turned his head away. "Satisfied?" Telvern questioned, unable to recall the memory of Divus' which Balor took from his mind.

Ravenous like a feral dog, the king's eyes swiftly turned to Telvern, his hand falling down from his mouth. "Hardly," he growled furiously. "It seems you've known about this for some time, now I can only wonder why you've yet told me."

"I have a promise to keep," the genius calmly replied.

"Is a promise more valuable than your life?" the king asked.

"Normally... no," Telvern answered in a clear sense of truth. "But to her, anything from her is more valuable than my life."

The Arbandor then suddenly shot forward, bolting towards a dark-brown doublet. Blood then dripped down upon the decrepit stone floor, seeping between cracks. Balor's blade had lunged into Telvern's torso, stabbing into his abdomen. He felt the pain rip into him, crumbling him from within. With a tightened face and gripped teeth, the genius had to find a way to get a hold of the agony.

Telvern's steely brown gaze scrolled up to Balor, who looked right through him. He then saw the king shake his head from side-to-side. "I loathe the idea of having such impurity walk my world," the king believed. "so that's why I'm going to rid this world of it."

"...Ha," Telvern then laughed. "what's so terrible about being half-bred? I'm like you, only I have a heart. Whereas you can't see or feel a thing, I have the ability to register the pain of the people I care about -- which seems to be something you clearly lack."
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14-Aug-2014 15:20:14

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"Something I lacked before, perhaps," Balor corrected, pulling his sword out from Telvern. Telvern's back hit the wall in which Balor had pinned him to previously, he then began to slowly slide down it. He felt a trail of blood as he slid down, a splattered line. The king then shook his head at the bleeding genius. "but not anymore."

Balor quickly turned, his cape floating up in a twist as the bells on his pauldrons rang out. Balor's armoured boots were on the move, leaving behind the bleeding summoner all by his lonesome. Departing this darkness, the dark blue glow faded away. Balor had left the room, his footsteps up the stairs echoing through the empty prison.

In pain, bleeding out, and slowly losing control, Telvern knew he couldn't just lay here and die. There was still too much to be done, still too much he had to answer. With every ounce of strength in his body, he pulled himself down upon the ground. Laying on the floor on his stomach, he reached his left hand forward. Digging his nails to deal with this pain and to speak his determination, his commitment to live, the genius crawled.

He struggled with everything in him, pushing aside the pain. So many thoughts rushed into his head, whimsical recollections of the past that he painfully reminisced. He clawed, every centimeter was a battle that felt like it lasted forever and a day. With fastened teeth and a clenched fist, he pushed himself. But his strength was not vast and bottomless, he began to feel it hit its end.

Beyond that place, her pale blue eyes stared up to the sky. She stood at the top of the stairs before the entrance into the castle, just looking up. This was it, the end of the road. The Resistance was over, the rebellion which spanned over forty years had been killed. She didn't want to look back into the castle, she knew what she'd see. She then sighed, hearing footsteps from behind her.
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14-Aug-2014 15:23:12

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"Sister," she heard her being called by a familiar face. Lucia then looked behind her, seeing Balor to her right. The very second she turned to face him, Balor could easily see the depression upon her face. Tears fell from her face, dripping next to the puddles of blood to pooled all around them. She was lamenting over the grave of the dreams and hopes that she killed, of the people she once considered to be family that she murdered.

Balor pushed out a heavy breath. "I'm so sorry that you had to do this," he then sorrowfully apologized, perhaps feeling the blame of his sister's sadness, feeling like the root of the tree of anguish. Lucia then clasped her brother, requiring his support. She wrapped her arms around him, embracing him.

Wholeheartedly, Balor tenderly took her into his arms. He allowed himself to be enfolded, because he wanted to do everything he could to be there for his sister. He cradled her in his love and warmth, locking her with his affection. His eyes closed, his ear listened to the painful weeping of his sister, the weeping over the lives of her comrades, of her family.

The king found his strength waning, he didn't wish to cry with her. But being the rock was far harder than anyone could possibly imagine, an impossible task burdened Balor's shoulders. He felt like a scale with way too much weight on one end, slowly he tilted off the wrong way. Somehow though, he found an equilibrium. He does manage it, opening his eyes and looking to his right. "...Come, my sister," he softly said to her. "Let's go home."

She pulled off of him, knowing that indeed she had to go. She couldn't stay here anymore, she was done. The two then began to walk together, their footsteps slow and synchronized. The flock of Loyal Knights that Lucia scattered across the castle start rushing out from the castle's mouth, save one that stood up at the very top of the castle.
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14-Aug-2014 15:27:26

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The purple flag of the Resistance stood waving in the smokey wind, the careless, cruel wind that smelt like a murderer. The Loyal Knight kicked over the pole that held the flag, snapping it in half. The half that held the flag then began to topple, falling haplessly. Heading for the ground, the broken flag began spiraling out of control like skydiving without a parachute.

And just like the Resistance for which it bears, the flag found the end. It hit the ground in a heavy thud, ringing out throughout the endless sky.

The Loyal Knights entrusted with taking care of the city had also taken care of their fallen brothers, giving them a proper burial. The Imperial Kingdom and its knights came into this once peaceful capital of the Resistance, and they left it a bloodied, burning husk of its former self. They stormed out of this place, some stricken with grief over their actions... over the despair they've caused.

There was barely any sound felt in this realm... The sound of a pin dropping could last for years. Daevarro finally emerged from hiding, not knowing the exact time of which he's been hiding. It could have been minutes or hours, there was no sense of time. The dark-robed young man walked down a street void of life, its bricks made up of the blood, entrails, and occasionally limbs of the innocent victims of this battle.

The young man felt weak, exhausted, distressed, a heavy qualm possessing him. It was a great struggle, his stomach twisting and turning like a roller coaster constructed by a man of insanity. He could pass out at any minute, bullets of sweat dropping from his head. But he knew he had to keep going, forcing his legs to keep moving.
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14-Aug-2014 15:32:59

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