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Thread: [M] The Throne of Gods: Memories of Divinity - IC

  1. #131
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    As he lay, back flat against the rocky surface, his mind swirled with thoughts. What would they do to him? Would they attempt to kill him? Would he stop them if they tried? Slowly, his eyes closed as he felt the vines tighten slightly. He focused his breathing and when he opened his eyes, Luna and Sage had wrapped around him to force healing mana into his wounds.

    Visana approached first, wanting to know what was going on, but she would know soon enough, they all would know the truth, but he wondered if they could handle the truth. He wondered just how much they would hate him after he revealed everything to them. Marette approached him, her gentle caring eyes causing his own to flood with tears. He forced them not to fall as he listened to her speak, telling him what she felt was true.

    Master, perhaps it is best to tell them everything. Luna said.
    Within reason of course. If they try anything master, just know I won’t hesitate. Sage said.

    Silvannus nodded when Marette finished speaking and gave her a warm smile.

    “I suppose I owe you all an explanation. It all started when I was plucked from the veins of arca…. Oh wait that’s too far back, let me focus.”

    Silvannus paused and looked at the faces gathered, his eyes instinctively falling on Lunae for a few moments, longing filling his being.

    “I began practicing Chaos in secret with the help of the Prince of Chaos. His lessons though challenging proved beneficial to some regard, but….,” he paused, “there are side effects. It is so strong it fights for control. The Prince of Chaos knew that my lessons were becoming more challenging; however, before we could finish he met his untimely end and Selrina fell into unconsciousness. Selrina….”

    Silvannus couldn’t fight the tears anymore as they fell one by one and evaporated as soon as they touched the ground.
    “I have done everything I could to wake her. All of my knowledge, all of my power did nothing, so I delved deeper into chaos trying to uncover ways to break whatever it is that holds her in stasis. I was at my wits end, but I knew I couldn’t give up. Malphas, the Duchess of Pain comes into the picture. I approached her with a request, and she in turn had a request. Multiple requests. I gave her your location. I informed her of where each of you would be and how best to capture you. All for a chance to hear her voice again. All for a chance to see her smile again, to walk alongside her through our garden, to hear her laugh and tell me how crazy I am whenever one of my wild thoughts made itself known. She always showed me such kindness, such love and without that I have been terribly lost.”

    Silvannus allowed time for what he said to soak in before continuing.

    “It was supposed to be easy. I break you all free, blend in with you as you escape this hell. However, things seemed to have changed and I was not aware. The Devourers were something I didn’t anticipate. I was not aware of their existence, but I would be lying if I said I was surprised. So, I did what I did. I lied to you, I put you all in danger, and I nearly got all of you killed.”

    The conversation with Malphas played over in his head. He closed his eyes and cleared his throat. “I am tasked and I cannot fail in my mission.”

    He fell silent again, staring at the floor as he muttered an unholy word that caused the nearest stalagmite to break away and speed toward him, stopping short of his chest. It splintered as his mutter filled the cave with an ominous wind.
    “You never know…,” he began as a shard of stone sliced into his arm, blood slowly seeping out. “Just how much power it contains.” The remaining pieces of rock plopped to the ground and Silvannus closed his eyes. “I have been tasked with providing the blood of Selrina to Malphas. Blood is a key to many things. Dark, sinister things. With the blood of a Monarch, the things I could do, the spells I could create, spells that could cripple even the most powerful. So this is my burden. This is my pain. Create to destroy. Destroy to restore. Restore to create. Now you know what it is I have to do and I cannot stop until it is done. Each of you were collateral damage in my mission to restore Selrina.”

    Eyes open he looked into each of their eyes before staring at the ceiling.

    “Now you know. I’m not the god you thought I was. What frightens me is that even now I can hear the whispers of chaos beckoning me to do unspeakable things…to each of you.”
    Special thanks to Poison Ivy for the awesome sig and avy set.
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  2. #132
    The Replicant
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    “To Carceri with your mission!” Visana suddenly shouted, the curse a detonation on her lips.

    The protector goddess’ head was pounding, her thoughts whirling like the eddies of ash and earth stirring round her feet in the sulphurous wind. Some gods allowed Silvannus to tap into their magic, to various ends. That much Visana knew, though she had never done it herself. If Baldramort had shared his power…nothing born of the Dark Prince would want to be constrained. Perhaps he had known what it would do to Silvannus when he tried to wield it, and revelled in it. And now the Destroyer’s power was scattered to the wind, undirected by his will…trying to draw from it would surely be beyond foolish.

    Chaos. Shall. CONSUME!

    “I just need to know one thing,” the goddess rasped, “Before I mark you as a fool or an enemy. Was it the Chaos that betrayed us, or was it you?”

    Silvannus stared at the floor as he muttered an unholy word that caused the nearest stalagmite to break away and speed toward him, stopping short of his chest. It splintered as his mutter filled the cave with an ominous wind.

    “You never know…,” he began as a shard of stone sliced into his arm, blood slowly seeping out. “Just how much power it contains.” The remaining pieces of rock plopped to the ground and Silvannus closed his eyes. “I have been tasked with providing the blood of Selrina to Malphas. Blood is a key to many things. Dark, sinister things. With the blood of a Monarch, the things I could do, the spells I could create, spells that could cripple even the most powerful. So this is my burden. This is my pain. Create to destroy. Destroy to restore. Restore to create. Now you know what it is I have to do and I cannot stop until it is done. Each of you were collateral damage in my mission to restore Selrina.”


    Visana felt like she had been untethered, her brain floating inside the confines of her skull. When she spoke, it was all she could do to keep her voice steady.

    “All of us,” she stammered, “You…you and Malphas…you used your magic to find me and let her take me to that…to that hell pit? You let her RIP ME APART!?”

    Runes flashed in lines and rings across her body - stigmatic wounds, memories of pain. Had giving his blood to the Devourers been part of Silvannus’ bargain? She had been given no such choice. Her eyes were hot; her vision blurred.

    “Do you regret that?” she demanded. She began to pace, the dust-eddies snapping at her heels. “Do you care at all? Clearly not, if you’re still set on your mission.” The word was like poison on her lips. She brought her hands to her head, and then ripped them back down.

    “If you were showing any remorse right now I might still respect you. But those tears aren’t for any of us. They’re for you. And maybe Selrina.” A harsh, mirthless cackle left the goddess’ lips. “I mean listen to yourself! Musing about the power you’ll have, the new spells you’ll create?”

    Visana stopped dead. She could feel tears of her own on her cheeks as she brought a hand to her forehead, fingers hooking in her dust-matted hair.

    “But no, that’s not the thing I can’t believe. Even if you really do think you’re doing all this for Selrina. I mean, you and I aren’t true friends.” She threw her arms wide. “I hoped you thought better of me than to hand me over to Malphas, but here we are.”

    Another scraping blade of a laugh.

    “But those who love you, as Marette does? And Mori? And Lunae? You mean to tell me…you sold out the ones who cared about you the most so you could feel special again? And you’d keep doing it?”

    Visana’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. Breathing in ragged heaves, she began to stalk towards the restrained god of magic.

    “Whatever mission you think you’re on, Silvannus…it ends here.”
    Spoiler: My RP links 

    PM me for novelised versions of any of my RPs, or ones that I have participated in. Set by the awesome Karma.


  3. #133
    The Scottish Fluff
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    Dust floated over his vision. His mind had been spiralling since Silvannus finally intervened with his consumed. Atrophos was moving, acknowledging suggestions and gentle orders given to him by his fellow gods but he was not truly there. His mind had sunk further beneath the ground. Ash coated the inside of his nostrils, a foul smell that seemed to ring something in the back of his skull. Time. He was missing time. From when he could not place it. He could so clearly remember some things but there were memories that were like smoke when he clawed at them.

    Skeletal like fingers drifted over the ground before them. Torn rotting flesh from the Consumed was greedily swallowed whole by the ash under their feet. Part of him hoped that by destroying the flesh of the consumed that they would prevent this from happening again. A feeble effort. Yet it was all he could truly do. Words sliced through the smog clouding his eyes. Visana by his side, musing her hope aloud. Like a prayer that could hold more weight when breathed aloud.

    Atrophos’s attention was swallowed up by the Goddess of Protection as she gave him a weak smile. He tried to match it, yet it felt hollow. Before he could even reply to her comment on Malphas, Visana’s attention was torn away. Hatred swirled through the words that cracked through the peace. The God of Decay rested his weary hands on his walking staff as he kept at the outer fringes of the conversation.

    Betrayal. His eyes lit up at the revelation. As Marette whispered her accusation, Atrophos could only settle his old eyes on Silvannus. Words tumbled from the God of Magic’s lips as he revealed exactly what he had been doing, all this time. A darkness crept over his eyes, like a funerary veil dropped. Blood of Selrina. Blood of their monarch. One that cared so much for them all…and for Silvannus.

    Visana’s rage was palpable. He could almost taste it like rotting meat on the tip of his tongue. Atrophos watched. His gaze slithering between Visana and then Silvannus. The Goddess determined to protect them all and the snake who had led them straight to damnation. They were in this predicament because of him. The God of Magic was held down by Mori’s vines but Atrophos knew that Silvannus would not need their hands to cast spells, words were barely leaving his lips and already their surroundings were bending to his will.

    With a heavy sigh, Atrophos raised a hand. His fingers curling as if wrapping around a non-existent breeze. With very little effort, he tugged every last particle of dust from Visana’s hair. Threading them together, he took a small step forward. His other hand resting on the staff to aid his walking. “It is not your place to destroy. You talk of power more than you do, your beloved Selrina.” Atrophos let the dust sink and fill Silvannus’s open mouth. Coating his tongue with a heavy layer of dirt.

    “You speak of Selrina as if she would bid you to do this. To turn on your fellow gods…to offer them up like sacrificial lambs for the slaughter…that the suffering was necessary for the greater good.” Atrophos dropped his other hand back to his staff and leaned forward. This god was no longer the god that he had heard Lanaei speak of in passing. This was a hollow, shadow of a god who wished for things greater than him. Wished for things unattainable and left out of reach for a reason. “You do nothing to restore Selrina. You care little of her. You care only for the way that she made you feel.” The God of Decay leaned closer to Silvannus, still far enough back that the Mori’s vines didn’t even lick his robe. ”She would be so ashamed of you.”


  4. #134
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    With the plan cemented, Moriteva nodded to Marette and Aegis, looking over at Silvannus one more time. He heaved a sigh. Silvannus the traitor...he had a feeling his heart was in the right place, but he had simply...taken everything several steps to far. Like always. Mori tended to be Silvannus' voice of reason, talking him out of some of the more....adventurous decisions he'd thought about making. But this had slipped right by him. Likely while he was concerned with the Tree of Life; ever since the corruption had taken root in the tree's boughs, he'd been unable to focus on anything else. Silvannus likely slipped right under his nose while he was attending to the tree's needs. But no longer.

    Moriteva let fly the seeds in his palm, watching them land around Silvannus and begin to sprout into vines that snaked around his body. As they pulled him down to the ground, keeping him locked in position, the sleeping god began to stir. Moriteva made sure the vines had each of his limbs in turn; the last thing Mori needed was for Silvannus to be able to cast a spell. Once he was sure the snaking leafy tendrils had ensnared Silvannus well, he stood back with his arms folded, letting Marette speak for the group. Though her words were soft and kind, he could feel the power behind them. He knew her heart was trying everything in its power not to break. Moriteva said nothing in turn, but gave Marette a single nod, letting her know that she was doing the right thing.

    And then he listened to Silvannus.

    How he began to practice chaos magic, how he planned to restore Selrina through the help of Malphas. Malphas' 'requests'. Moriteva frowned, his fingers gripping his arms tighter as he kept them folded. He fell into chaos for Selrina, huh...? Put some of his closest friends in grievous peril just for a chance to see her wake up. Yes, his loving admiration of Selrina struck a chord in the Warden; his own love for his Matron was just as strong as Silvannus'. But to tip so deeply to the darkness in his pursuit to awaken her...the thought made Mori sick to his stomach. Not to mention the betrayals he enacted. To put Marette and Lunae in such danger...Moriteva shut his eyes. He had words, but others were speaking first.

    Visana's rage was evident, even before she began to speak. Moriteva listened quietly, hearing her thoughts of betrayal, reminding Silvannus that an act like this proved the love he had for his brethren meant nothing. But when Visana began to draw close, speaking of 'ending' his mission here and now, Moriteva moved, holding an arm out in front of the Goddess of Protection. He said nothing, but merely shook his head. Now wasn't the time to attack each other; that sort of self-immolating behavior was exactly what Malphas wanted. Hells, he wouldn't have been shocked if Silvannus admitting the truth was part of her machinations from the word go. Moriteva's job was to keep the peace, and keep it he did.

    Atrophos was up next. He respectfully kept his distance, which Moriteva appreciated, though his words cut a lot deeper than he anticipated. Not to him, but for Silvannus. He knew there was no faster way to break his heart than to question his ties to their Matron. And yet...Mori couldn't find it within him to disagree. Was what Silvannus doing truly what Selrina would have wanted, or just a selfish desire to see her again? Not for her sake...but for his. Moriteva bowed his head in silent reflection. Atrophos' disappointment and spite gave him consideration for his own words. Maybe he could still find a way to get Silvannus to truly understand. One of his closest friends and most trusted confidants. Nobody else had spoken; it was his turn to say something.

    Moriteva drew close to Silvannus, compelling the vines to grip just a little tighter. "Silv..." Moriteva's voice was calm and quiet. However, with a glance cast in the direction of his fans, he raised his leg, placing his foot heavily on Silvannus' chest. "With all due respect, my dear friend..." Moriteva took a deep breath, weighing the words he planned to speak carefully. "You are a fucking idiot." Mori let the weight of his words sink in; the Warden very nearly never swore or spoke blasphemy, and the strength of his willingness to blaspheme here was emphasized in the way he dug his foot into Silvannus' chest. "Do you honestly think Malphas, of all people, is going to fulfill her end of the bargain and go away? No, the Duchess always demands due, and everything you've done has been at her whim. I cannot even say she knows a thing about returning Selrina to us." The Warden shook his head, grinding his heel once again. "Do you honestly believe giving Malphas the blood of Selrina is going to help? Especially now that you've seen what she has done with the flesh of our brethren?" Moriteva glared at Silvannus now. "Do you honestly beleive Selrina would want this? To awaken to a realm in chaos? To Malphas claiming Averas, our Matron's beloved home, as her own as the realms burn?"

    Moriteva took a deep breath. He was being harsh. "Silv...when our Matron fell into her eternal slumber, I felt the urge to seek out any way I could to return her to us. I too thought of turning to the Duchess to awaken her. Even Baldramort...were he still with us. The thoughts had occurred to me. But the consequences of siding with Pain were potentially too great. As I'm sure you're seeing now." He withdrew his foot, choosing instead to kneel down before his old friend. "But I remembered my place. We are of Balance, Silvannus. Our job is to maintain said balance between light and darkness. And since Suriyel left...darkness has been far too strong." Of course, now he partially understood why, even with a Monarch down, darkness threatened to destroy their balance. It was Silvannus.

    "That is why I turned to Luthious instead. Did you forget we have friends in light as well? Friends who would truly return the favors we did for them, rather than maliciously spin them for their gain-and our downfall?" Moriteva sighed. "While you've been gone, Silv..." He closed his eyes, turning back to Marette for a moment. "Averas has been poisoned. The Tree of Life is under threat. Luthious has been doing everything he can...which is why I'm here. I have debts to repay too." Moriteva sighed. Averas and Selrina were always on his mind. If the Tree fell, his duty as Warden would have been a colossal failure.

    "You can choose not to fulfill your twisted task. You speak like it is inevitable fate. You make those decisions, Silv." Moriteva looked to the vines once more. "And right now, I need you to make a decision."

    His eyes narrowed. "Help me. Help us. I don't know if I can save Averas alone, and Malphas and Chaos is not the answer."
    Karma is the best.

  5. #135
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    The Goddess of Time had asked for the truth and the truth is what she was given. Marette remained perfectly still and silent as Silvannus gave his full confession. While she listened to him, and to the responses of the rest her heart was slowly breaking. With each passing moment the pain that plagued her grew more intense, the sorrow was overwhelming. Of course she had known the truth ever since Aegis had asked his leading questions. But to hear it to laid so plain and bare was soul rending. The anger and disappointment of Visana and Atrophos, of Moriteva was warranted, deserved even. But that did not make it easier to hear. Betrayal was not something that was easy to overcome.

    And yet Marette was not without compassion. Slowly making her way back toward the restrained deity, Marette laid her hand upon Moriteva's back and stroked it gently, reassuringly. She understood Mori's pain and his agony, to protect the Tree was his sworn oath, his singular responsibility. "All will be well." She whispered softly before allowing her hand to drop and her body to carry forward to Silvannus where once again she knelt close to him, her eyes were wide, hot tears slowly falling down her cheeks. Her devastation was evident. "You poor soul." She spoke softly as her hand reached out to rest upon his cheek, her thumb stroking it softly. "Thank you for the truth."

    Marette would have smiled if she could muster it, but her strength had seemingly failed her. "And thank you for the warning." Her eyes shifted toward Mori, her head turning slowly then to gaze out upon the others. Silvannus had revealed much, and knowing that the darkness of chaos was calling was a deeply troubling thought, a dangerous thought. In his current state Silvannus was a threat. "What's done is done and cannot be changed. Even I would refuse to turn back the hands of time to undo this grievous sin." The Goddess' words were spoken softly, gently, they were not meant to be cruel to inflict unnecessary pain. "The only thing that matters now is the future and the choices you will make my darling." Marette was capable of anger, of cruelty, or astounding indifference. But that all seemed to matter little... no matter the pain caused, the damage done the God of Arcane Magic was still her family.

    "You must be strong now. You must reject the chaos within you, the chaos that is slowly bleeding out and corrupting everything around you. You have the ability to change your fate and prove your good nature through your deeds. Only through action can you mend the wounds you have created." Marette sighed deeply and moved in slightly closer to wrap her arms around the entangled Silvannus as best she could, embracing him lovingly as her brother. "You cannot save Selrina or Averas through Chaos or an alliance with Malphas. But you can depend on me, as you should have. On Mori and the rest." Marette had the strong desire to force him to sit through a lecture that would last a thousand years but they hadn't the time for that.

    "I forgive you. But you cannot continue as you are now. And the others, it is not my place to temper their reactions or ask they be as forgiving as I. You must earn their forgiveness, and you must start now." Marette pat him on the head and rose, once again returning to her position beside Moriteva, her arm tugging on his gently, holding on to him for comfort. "I ask nothing of the group. Save we continue our path out of this hell."
    Thanks to Hayabusa/Ryoku for the set.

  6. #136
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    . . . Intiating System Reboot
    . . . Restarting [25%]
    . . . Restarting [50%]
    . . . Restarting [75%]
    . . . Restarting [100%]
    . . . System Reboot Complete

    "Hey. Guess what?"

    "...What?"

    "Chicken butt. Guess why?

    "...Why?"

    "You might die!"

    From within a space of absolutely nothing, there was insidious cackling that permeated all corners of it. Riddy, whose consciousness teetered upon life and death, was stuck. He was being tormented by the inner facsimiles of his mind. Personalities that, after his limit break, started to emerge like roaches that emerge from the walls of a dank apartment. He felt them, gnashing their teeth upon what remains of his person. He couldn't escape either. No matter where he ran to, all he was met with was ridicule, violence, and persistent darkness.

    However this torment did not last long, for the machine god finally found suit to initiate much needed first aid. As a result, the young god plugged all the holes that were made in him and doubled the subroutines needed to regenerate any lost tissue.

    After doing that, Riddy pulled together his fractured personalities into one being by forcibly tying them down and shoving them together. This being then rested inside the inner recesses of his mind haven, allowing him to recuperate a majority of his lost faculties. These being sight, sound, and taste just to name a few.

    His eyes turned on with a static sting, and his vocal anguish filled the air. However it stopped short when his voice malfunctioned, resulting in him coughing up some cool-blue fluid with copper wiring. He sighed, and wiped away the cool-blue fluids that was leaking from his lower lip. He took stock of his surroundings and was relieved to see that they had escaped trouble momentarily. However he wasn't relieved to see that the battle had completely scrapped his body. "...Fuck.."

    He was of no help in this state.

    The best he can do is, at most, provide firing support, and even then that was pushing his power to its very limit. He was spent, there was no way around that. He accepted this reality, and decided to not be vocal about it. Instead, he spent the time reflecting. He absorbed all of the lessons taught during the battle, and wondered if that was his limit. If that was all that he had in him...

    He stared off at a wall before deciding to play back the fight in his mind. He watched all the way up until the shut down. He replayed every action at least a dozen times, and took intense mental notes. He felt uneasy about it, so much so that he would appeared to be feverish if it weren't for his perfect synthetic skin. He mulled over the details, obsessed over his lack of fighting power.

    "Hey buddy.. Remember me? It's your split self. Still here, but this time more whole than before. It's like you gave me more of yourself to actualize with. But that's not really why I'm here. I'm a permanent fixture of your psyche due to what we did to defeat that thing. So consider me your consolation price! YAY!"


    "Oh great...you again..." He spoke just barely under his breath as his eyes danced around the area before resting on a visage of himself, standing slyly among those gathered in conversation. He gestured in the groups direction to shoo off the doppelganger, but he realized he could barely move his body and just resorted to looking elsewhere.

    "Ah come on. Don't tell me you've already gotten bored of me! I want attention dammit! Why aren't you engaging with my antics!? Hmph, kill joy."

    "What.. even is going on here?"

    "I said it before buddy. I'm you, but not actually you. The stress from the fight was so much that we decided that two minds was better than one. So now I'm here to make sure your abrasive side still stays that way. So man the fuck up and get repairin!!"


    Ridstus wasn't going to argue with himself, and merely decided to roll with it seeing as his presence hadn't been felt yet. He took the small downtime he had to rest his scrapped body.

  7. #137
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    Spoiler: Lunae’s Past 


    As the darkness had consumed him once more tears were streaming down his face. He remembered everything. How he fell in love, and how his pride ruined everything. He had been alone for so long, and he didn’t have to be. If he would have just listened, and understood. Suddenly in the darkness he could hear voices speaking. These words were helping him regain his senses.

    The first words that he heard were about betrayal, followed by asking for an explanation. Then he heard a voice saying things about practicing Chaos magic, and the power it holds. How this person helped the Duchess in capturing them. The rest of the explanation was lost, but he opened his eyes as soon as the goddess of protection started speaking. Then each God and goddess in turn spoke about how they were disappointed about Silvannus' actions.

    Lunae tried to lift himself up into a sitting position. His body was still not in good shape after using that sword. All of his muscles were screaming, but he clenched his teeth as he allowed the pain to subside before he moved again. Slowly he was able to sit up, and then he looked over at Silvannus. It seemed that he had done some stupid things because of his Monarch. He couldn’t blame him since he was also to blame for not being there. Though, he knew that Silvannus was affected by the same curse he was.

    He felt this situation was partially his fault. If he was still by Silvannus' side, would he have walked this path? Would he have lost all hope, and delivered into Chaos more? Would he have been able to stop him from doing all of this? He sighed slightly as he closed his eyes. He made a hard decision. It almost killed him to get his memories back. That God didn’t care if he survived or not. Luna on the other hand cared for Silvannus, and he wouldn't put him through the same pain. If he ever remembered that would be one thing, but he was not going to force the issue.

    He opened a small portal and pulled out a walking cane. He used it to help himself get up off the ground. This was one of his more unconventional weapons since it looked innocent. It was a sword nonetheless. Using the weapon to keep his balance he walked over to the others.

    “Luna, Sage behave yourselves.” Lunae said pain laced in his words. As he looked over to the two ribbons. Giving them a little warning. He didn’t want to have to deal with them as well right now. He then looked over at Moriteva bowing his head slightly in respect to the man. Like he did the first time Silvannus introduced them to one another. He did the same to Marette. Lunae would need to speak to both of them later. He just hoped they got his message. He then turned his attention to the god of Magic.

    “You are a God that follows Selrina. If that is the case then you should have known better. Balance is what she advocates. You are acting more like a follower of Baldramort. You invite Chaos. You have destroyed the peaceful lives of all the gods you have brought into this mess of yours. I should know. I was once a God that followed Chaos. You act like they all do. Only following your own desires no matter who it hurts. There is a reason I am no longer associated with any of the God’s. You pulled me out of my seclusion. You destroyed my peaceful life, and my home all for your own desires. You embody the philosophy of the followers of Chaos. God of balance my ass.” He said angrily, his voice still laced with pain.

  8. #138
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    He listened as one by one they addressed what he’d revealed to them. Visana wished to knock sense into him, threatening him that his mission was over, and in his current state he couldn’t put up much of a fight. Her words were sharp, piercing like daggers. The anger and hint of disappointment that filled her voice was enough to bring any insane being to sanity. Then came Atrophos, someone who he knew only by way of his daughter. He respected the god of decay, but when the dust, the acrid dirt of the cave coated his tongue, Silvannus closed his eyes as Atrophos' words filled his ears. Selrina would be ashamed of him. She would be ashamed of what he’d become. Would she? The question lingered in his mind as he fought against the tears that wished to flow freely. Selrina always treated him gently, as if she were his mother. She taught him, she understood him, and she had a way of bringing comfort with just a look, or a single word. His mind snapped back to reality. Did he only care for her because of how she made him feel? If that were the case then what about all the others who made him feel happy, were they all just tools at his disposal? He was still restricted from moving. His friend, Moriteva, had constructed the vines that ensnared him to the uncomfortable position. Nonetheless, Atrophos’ words did not go unheard and Silvannus could only gaze up at the ceiling of the cave.

    Moriteva approached him. As he spoke, SIlvannus’ mind took him back to the many times he would visit Mori, asking him questions and seeking his help on various things. Mori would always decline his desire to get his hands on his power. It was always pleasant visiting Mori, but they hadn’t seen each other in a very long time. He often wondered what Moriteva had been up to since the beginning of Selrina’s slumber and after listening to him, he now knew he’d been busy trying to find a way to help her, but his path had been different. His journey had led him to the light, while Silvannus’ journey had led him to darkness. How could he claim to be a god of balance when his actions proved otherwise?

    Silvannus knew what he’d done would warrant reactions. What he did not expect was the gentle touch from Marette. Her gentle tone, and warm hand shattered any remnants of fortitude he had. He tried his best not to look at her, for his decision to bring her into all of this had shattered him then and now, yet she still showed compassion, she still showed care and her actions spoke volumes. After she had finished speaking, he could feel a sense of warmth overtake him. Silvannus nonetheless remained silent and forced himself to maintain eye contact with a spider that was crawling along the cave ceiling. Had he looked at Marette his inner strength would have failed and he would have become an emotional mess.

    Lunae approached him, and Silvannus couldn’t help but feel a familiar connection to him. There was more to this deity than he first realized. Every encounter with him, Silvannus felt something more. During the battle with the great hellwyrm, Silvannus felt an urge to protect him. That urge caused him to put Lunae in a deep sleep to keep him from hurting himself by going back to the chambers that once held them. During the fight with the Devourers, Silvannus remembered calling out Lunae’s name and reaching for him before he’d passed out. Now, as Lunae approached, Silvannus’ eyes fell on the male immediately. He listened to Lunae and understood that the taint of chaos was evident. After they’d all spoken, Silvannus gathered his inner thoughts and gave them each a long gaze before falling on Aegis who hadn’t spoken.

    Release me from these vines, I wish to stand.

    Luna and Sage immediately transformed and sliced the vines so quickly, it was hard to see to the untrained eyes. Once free, Silvannus spit the mouth full of dirt onto the ground with an audible plop. Not a single granule of dirt managed to get beyond his throat, and not a speck remained in his mouth. Luna and Sage had transformed back into ribbons and wrapped around Silvannus as he stood up slowly and stretched.

    “I know each of you wishes for a fate to befall me suitable to the atrocities I have committed. You have shown me great mercy, and I am appreciative.”

    Silvannus leaned against the wall, showing the extent of his injuries.

    “I understand if you wish to banish me from this group, I admit it would be the appropriate thing to do. At least with me gone, you all will have clearer minds to focus on escape. To each of you I have this to say. I have broken trust and bonds with my actions. I have stained the fabric of friendship and unity. I expect no forgiveness for my actions.”

    His eyes fell on Marette and he approached her before slowly kneeling at her feet.

    “My dear sister. Clouded has my mind been to put you and the others in such a situation as this. I do not expect your forgiveness, but I only wish for you to know that I will always protect you, even if I have to protect you from myself. I want you to know that I am truly sorry for all that has happened. In my quest I hurt you, and I don’t know how I will ever forgive myself.”

    He lifted from his kneeling position and turned to Moriteva.

    “I should have come to you, I should have sought a different path, but I cannot change the decisions of the past. I am sorry, my brother.”

    His eyes fell on Visana.

    “You have every right to be angry with me. You have every right to distance yourself, but I am truly sorry. I know nothing I say will make any of what I did easier to digest, but I want you to know I am sorry.”

    His attention fell on Atrophos.

    “I am sorry. You are right. She would be ashamed of the things I have done. She would have chastised me for even considering it.”

    Silvannus managed to smile as a memory of Selrina overcame him. Seeing her swatting him with whatever she had in her hand. His smile quickly faded as the vision of her resting, unable to awaken, filled his mind. He closed his eyes to clear the buzzing thoughts and allowed his eyes to take Lunae in.

    “You. There is something about you that continues to bewilder me. I cannot escape the feeling that we have met before now. I cannot shake the uneasiness I feel when near you, but even still I had no right to involve you in this. I had no right to put you in danger. I am sorry.”

    Finally he turned to Aegis, hovering as he often did. It was rare to see Silvannus walk, instead he often fluttered around like an insect, pestering those he encountered. Within the confines of the cave, his usual cheeriness was gone and all he could do was move over to a stone and ease down to sit.

    “I am sorry.”
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