The Price of Peace (Completed)

[Frost]

Trale opened the door quickly and found, to his shock, a young girl situated across from his wife.
He remembered the 'no survivor' policy.
"Excuse me...my love...what are you doing...here...with...that?" Trale asked.
Shelrair was shocked that Trale knew of her whereabouts, and, for the first time since she could remember, she found it difficult to come up with a valid lie.
"She's..." Shelrair started, looking over toward Fern for a moment.
After a few short seconds she thought of just the answer.
"She's one of us, Trale," Shelrair told him, winking slightly at Fern, "She's dressed as a local slave to draw out the other slaves that work in the Palace, I'm sure some survived."
Trale frowned for a moment.
"What's your name?" Trale asked harshly.

[Farrelei]

Fern looked at the woman in front of her. Her panic had worsened.
The man - Trale - he didn't look at all friendly.
It's probably all one large trap. I'll die here, won't I? I'm sorry, Mum... Eleanore... Violet.
"...Rose. Is there a problem, sir?"

[Frost]

"...No. No there isn't."
Shelrair couldn't of known I was coming...Now I have to worry about what to do with this girl...
There was an awkward silence in the room now, Trale looked at Shelrair, who looked at Fern, who had her eyes fixed on him. Finally, Trale spoke.
"Shelrair...May you come with me?" Trale asked.

She shrugged and stood up.
"What about her?" Shelrair asked, turning towards Fern.
"Leave her," Trale replied.
Shelrair got up from her seat and stood beside Trale, hoping that her husband wouldn't kill the adorable slave.
"You're free to wander around the Palace as you please," Trale told Fern, before leading Shelrair out of the room and closing the door behind him.

They were rushing through corridors and hallways, moved up stairways and into new rooms, not stopping or slowing down. Trale was holding onto Shelrair's arm tightly.
"I can't believe you. Randomly befriending someone we're trying to kill? What if she tells anyone about what's been happening here?" Trale spat angrily.
"She won't, my love," Shelrair told him, dashing around another corner and up another flight of stairs, "She thinks I'm part of a special task force that eliminated the threat."

They ran along another corridor.
"And what if she doesn't believe you?" Trale asked, more angrily.
"I'm pretty convincing, Trale," Shelrair replied, "Now can you please tell me why we're running around like this?"
Trale ignored her.

[Farrelei]

(("Shelly, I'm pregnant."))

Their exit was awkward and definately not pleasant.
Fern also did not like the way that man had talked to her.
She was still sitting, plastered to her chair.
What now? If I wait here, they may come back with more and kill me. If I leave, what if they find me on the way?
What if there are others?
Her fingernails scratched into the wood of the chair. She knew she was being paranoid - but she knew it was with good reason.
They can't be dead...
She spoke her last thought aloud now, a few times, to validate her belief in it.
No.. That's right, they can't be.
"Is Trale angered at Shelrair again? Perhaps he will become violent.."
The hair pricked up on her neck, and Fern turned, her heart sinking as she spied someone she hadn't seen in the room before.
The woman noted her panic, "..You don't need to be scared. You were just granted permission to live, were you not?"
"I've.. Never seen you here.. Before. You're with... Them?"
"Hm? No, demons aren't plentiful, really. It's a pleasure to meet you, maidservant. The name is Jezebel."
..Demons.
Demons.
Oh god.
Demons destroyed the others. But why?
"I'm sorry, please excuse me, maidservant... My friend seemed panicked when she left."
The door opened, and closed.
Fern remained sitting, plastered to her chair.

---

Dawn had broken now. The Governor could see the sun rising, and the water glisten brightly underneath it.
But, most importantly, he could see a speck approaching in the sky.
Welcome to Eau Marché..

Eleanore sat down in her chair and strapped herself in for landing.
After a few minutes, the noise of the engine roars began to die down. She could see them lowering from outside the window, over the ocean. And then the Castle tipped upward, and crashes of water surrounded them.
After a while, they were able to unstrap and stand. It was a little odd, as the entire flying Castle was now a sailing one. And it was on it's back. Which was new.
And, for the first time, Ashrose Castle docked in at the Eau Marché Port - which was oddly deserted today.
Eleanore put on her smile, Bowen pat her on the back, and the mobile staircase was moved in place. The door opened.

[Frost]

There the two lovers stood, the cold morning wind blew through the couple, chilling them to the bone, and now, the naive Shelrair was incredibly worried.
The view was spectacular, especially in the morning, with the majestic hills and countryside pastures surrounding the large citadel. She could see the Great Forest, one of the 3 Great Dwellings of Trale's ancestors, outstretched across for miles.
She could see the mountains, looming in fog, as usual, unable to see the tips of the mysterious spires that were also home to her dear husband's forefathers. It was the highest Shelrair had ever been, and she was overcome by what she saw.

Still, the reason Trale had taken her up here plagued her mind. After all, he never really was the scenic-loving type.
"I never thought that I'd own all this," Trale told her, he was cold, and his voice sounded Like he was overwhelmed.
He also sounded doubtful of his situation, which caused Shelrair to immediately panic.
"Oh Trale," Shelrair sighed, "You will make a wonderful Emperor."
At those words, Trale's eyes, which were fixed on the horizon the entire time, suddenly turned to hers. "I can't do this, Shelrair, this was something Vivian had prepared himself for, not mine, I have no idea what to do nor what to say, it's not too late to evacuate."


Shelrair's eyes widened, her heart suddenly began racing.
"No." Shelrair said, her voice cold and blunt.
"

[Frost]

"I have worked far too hard for this!" Shelrair yelled, approaching Trale.
Trale spun around, immediately filled with anger, "You haven't worked for anything! I killed! I lied! I stole! You did nothing but hide behind me like a coward who was too afraid to get their hands dirty!" Trale yelled back.

"Oh you have no idea what I've been through to get to here!" Shelrair screamed, "The sacrifices I made were far worse than you having to steal some bread or...off some useless orphan!"

Trale shot aura through the metal fence that surrounded the top of the palace, blasting a gaping hole through it and causing the wires to twist and break apart.
He cursed and grabbed Shelrair's shoulders.
"Then what!? You tell me what you have done to earn yourself this position!?" Trale yelled again, shaking her vigorously.

Shelrair stuttered. Partly by the fear of being hurt again by her husband, and partly by the fact that he was right.
She couldn't say any whole words, just mixes of responses that brought tears to her eyes. "Trale, I..."

"You're just some wander-in from the slums trying to be someone she's not. Go back to the sewers. You're a whore and a leech. And I wish I said that years ago."
Shelrair screamed in anger, her heart snapping as she ran toward him,
tackling him to the ground, tears falling from her eyes as she was filled with sorrow.
She cursed at him and punched his face continuously, until Trale gripped her wrists and burned aura into them.

Blood spewed from her wrists, Shelrair screeched in pain as layers of skin were burned off. Trale then let go and kicked her in the stomach, before blasting her pain-stricken body with aura, knocking her back and into the fence.
She moaned ominously, her skin singed, her hair and clothes ruined, and her arms were left with scars that would never heal.

She fell to the ground, her broken body mixed with broken wire, blood, tears and a destroyed heart. Her memories were shattered, and everything she knew about herself and her entire life had now changed. She was no hardworking saint that would bring balance to the World. She was no puppeteer. Nor the puppet. She was just an insignficant string that was attached to her brethren, but never involved.
Although, she did value her life, but, it was too late for that now.
Her arms fell beside her, her spirit crushed and her body lifeless.

Trale stepped toward her, looking down at the mess he called her wife until just moments ago.
"...Kill me."
Trale frowned.
"Kill me, Trale, I know you've always wanted to. I can't handle this pain any longer. Do it. I'm done."
Trale hesitated, before stepping closer and peering down at her with pity.

"...Get out of Gardaine. Run. Run far away, and never return," Trale told her sympathetically.
"No! I'm finished! I have nothing! Nothing to live for anymore! I'm dead already! Kill me! Kill me now!" She screamed, pain and desperation in her haunting screams. She was being tortured.

Trale shook his head, closed his eyes, and walked away, unable to do it.
"I killed Vivian!" Shelrair yelled.
Trale turned around.
"What?"
"I killed him. For you. For us," She told him.
"The future of this Country is NOT for you to decide! He was my friend! He was our friend!" Trale yelled, gathering aura in his hands and walking quickly up to Shelrair.
He placed his hand onto her face.
The energy scorched her face, and she screamed in pain once again.
"You will pay for what you've done!" Trale yelled, pressing down harder.

He stopped.
His hand stopped producing aura.
He stepped back looking down.
A thick, rusty wire was stabbed into his stomach, burrowing deep into his internal organs, blood gushing from the wound.
Shelrair stood up, wiping the tears and blood from her face.
She staggered over to the tearful and surprised Trale, another long and sharp piece of wire in her hands.

"I thought I made things quite clear to you, my loving Husband..."
Shelrair pulled him closer.
"I am the prodigy," Shelrair laughed before slashing his face with the rusted metal, blood and skin ripping from his face.
His right eye was missing, and his face was no longer recognizable by the time the maniacal Shelrair had stopped cackling and cutting him.

She pulled him to the hole in the fence.
"This is my era. I am Empress. For ten years I've played my part well! I am no whore or mistress! I am not weak or delicate! I am what the Descendants have been prophecising for millenniums!" She screamed, before pushing him from the tower.

Trale's left arm grabbed onto the ledge, his body flailing uncontrolably from the Palace.
He opened his mouth, black gunk poured from it.
"Was any of it real, Mishelle?" He finally asked, more
black leaking from his bloodied and disfigured face, eyeless and wrecked.

Her eyes stared at the mention of her real name.
She walked up to him, pulled him close, and kissed him on his forehead.
"No. My love."
She stabbed her heeled shoe into his hand, and, with a
final yell, he fell.
She looked over the ledge, and, watching her husband fall from the Palace, she wept.

[Farrelei]

((sorry for continuously godmodding with her, you can godmod with some of my characters if you want >.>' Also in the parts with Eleanore you could always be Bowen.))

Jezebel, who had witnessed the entire thing, stood deathly still near the door that led back into the attics of the Palace, originally only there so that the artist commissioned to sculpt the statue at the top could do so in safety (his temporary room still existed, just behind that door).
She said nothing. Because she knew everything.
Nothing needed to be said. She loved her friend.

---

This was the second time Eleanore had been to this town, but the first time she'd be going beyond its walls.
Her first visit was spent keeping control of the Immestrian military control in the town, during Emperor Sei's stay there.
Others accompanied him to Lious, but she was required to stay and keep Eau Marché safe.

Gardainian and Liousian soldiers saluted as she disembarked.
"It is a great honour, Your Majesty. Welcome to Eau Marché."
"Thank you. It's a pity that both times I've vistited, I haven't been able to see the town in it's usual splendour! You are?"
"James Hodgson, Governor of Eau Marché and the rest of the Brassels. And yes, truly a pity. You're welcome anytime of course!"
"Perhaps I can sneak my castle in unnoticed sometime."

((Again sorry for short post I keep having to leave lol))

[Frost]

Jezebel approached Shelrair and embraced her, knowing now that this is one of the human's most relaxing positions.
"There there, my friend, he's gone now," Jezebel comforted Shelrair with a soothing and hypnotic voice.
Shelrair continued to sob quietly, holding onto the only friend and ally she can fully rely on.
"No more pain, or suffering, no more abuse whatsoever," Jezebel told her, remembering the night where Trale caused pain to both Jezebel and Shelrair.

"There is no-one now that will hurt you, you've cut all loose ends, Shelrair."

---

Mini had been waiting an awfully long time, countless minutes had passed and yet John hadn't returned from checking on Emilia.
Hesitantly, he jumped off of his chair and left the room.
He crept along the wall, trying to listen to any sounds or voices coming from Vivian's Office, but heard nothing, just the same eerie silence that would emit from that room.
Mini peered through the gap in the door, but saw and heard no-one, he opened the door just a slight more, yet still nothing.
Finally, he opened the door completely, and, to his shock, the room was empty.

---

All of the Descendants gathered in the Royal Dining Hall, Shelrair sat at the head of the table, Jezebel and Asmoday either side. Ursula preferred to stand, and did so in the corner of the room, and Herald sat beside Asmoday.
The murmurs and talking ceased after Shelrair ordered them to, and Shelrair stood.
"My friends..." She began, finding words.
"Vivian...In the throne room...He..." She couldn't do it, not now, not after what she just had to experience mere hours ago. It was a miracle she could clean her wounds and wash the blood off of her in the short period of time she had.

Jezebel stood, hushed Shelrair, and then spoke.
"Lord Vivian was executed by a Vizier that happened to be in the Palace at the time of the attack, he shot him in the Throne Room."
The room was immediately filled with roars of doubt and uncertainty.
"But!" Jezebel boomed, immediately silencing them, "Shelrair avenged his death, and killed the Vizier."
The room was filled with conspiring murmurs and whispers, no-one in the room fully believed her.
One man stood up, "How is it that this girl could kill a Vizier!? Nothing you've said adds up."

"Bullets can kill anyone, Fiddick, no matter who wields them."
The voice did not come from Jezebel or Shelrair, but from Ursula.
The man sat down.
Jezebel continued, "Trale was also lost, we are...unsure...of his cause of death."
Now the crowd erupted in a series of curses and yells, all directed towards the woman at the head of the table.
"She is now the unquestioned Leader, being the previous Leader's wife, she now inherits all of his powers!" Jezebel spoke, her usual undeveloped and emotionless voice being replaced with a powerful, majestic one that trembled the room and all in it.

Everyone fell silent once more.
"And now, Lady Shelrair, what is your first order?" Jezebel asked her in the same unearthly voice.
Shelrair stood up once more, her lips fluttering.
"I think, my friends, it is time to reveal ourselves."
She smiled.

[Farrelei]

After breakfast by the ocean at the Port, which would have probably been nice had there not been guards everywhere, Eleanore proceeded straight to the carriage that had been readied for her. It was only just morning now, and it would be night by the time they arrived in the capital of Lious.
Farewelling the Governor, she, a maidservant, and Bowen, alighted onto the carriage.
Two other carriages were prepared. Some Immestrian soldiers were already in Lious, some would travel beside the carriages, and the path was protected by the Liousian Army.
Eleanore hated carriages. She hardly ever rode in them. She hated all forms of transport, actually. Probably because her mother was shot in front of her during her first step on one.
The only vehicle she never despised was the Phoenix, and the closest to that still-operable was the Ashrose.
It was going to be a long day.

Fern opened her eyes. Apparantly, she'd fallen asleep.
She immediately felt a pang of fear as she realised where she was.; She hadn't meant to have fallen asleep at all.
She pushed the the door of the wardrobe she'd been hiding in, and with a crack, it opened.
The room was still empty, untouched.
Good.
Her eyes were moist. She'd been crying before she slept. Perhaps even crying in her sleep. She didn't know, and decided she didn't care.
This is probably Vizier Bowen's room..
She opened the door to the room and peered about, making notes of her surroundings. If she were quiet and quick enough, she may be able to escape.

[Frost]

Siberius awoke to an empty room. For once.
His wounds had healed somewhat, he had tried walking around, but the same tearing pain started up so he sat back down.
At least the pain isn't as bad as before.
He somehow managed to get himself from the bed to a cane chair in the corner of the room, and then dragged him and the chair to the door and opened it, peering out.
No-one.
"Hello!?" Siberius called out, but with no reply. "Hello!?" He yelled, much louder.
Still no-one.
Slowly, footsteps could be heard, just a single person.
They were gradually getting louder, each step had unnatural, perfect timing to it, each step taking the same amount of time to take another.
The corridor Siberius was looking down was very long, and as the single person walked along it, Siberius was filled with fear.

It was a young girl, her hair was pure white, her eyes a mixture of red and purple.
Her face was expressionless, and in her hands was an extremely long and large sword, at least double her height.

Immediately after seeing the sword Siberius drew aura in his hands, whoever, and whatever, this girl was, it wasn't of this world.
"Who are you!?" Siberius screamed.
There was no response, just the same, perfect stride toward him.
He desperately fired aura toward her, but she merely blocked them with the sword.
She was about a metre away from him when she stopped.

"What makes you so important?" She asked, her voice pure and devoid of emotion.
Siberius stuttered, trying to find the right words.
"I..."
"Is it because of your power? Why does Shelrair intend on keeping you alive?" She asked again with the same blank voice.
Before Siberius could answer, she placed her hand on his mouth.
"You're special. I know that much, but to what detail?"
Suddenly, her eyes dilated to black, and Siberius found himself slipping into a trance, as if watching every moment of his life up until this encounter.

She scanned through his memories, seeing what he had seen, felt what he had felt, his encounters with the demon Diabora, befriending Emperor Sei, falling in love with Savannah, even small things like sleeping beside Montecore and walking through the Great Forest.

She fell to the ground, her mind overrun by emotions.
Siberius left his trance-like state, and looked at the girl that lay sprawled across the ground, her eyes still dilated black and open.
"So. You are Siberius Feyanrer. The last original Ancient." She lay frozen, but her mouth moved.
"I've heard about you. You helped slay Diabora. Just like your mother tried to do. Only she was alone. Her name was Ercilia Gladoris. We have scripts written about her. Our greatest enemy. She caused us to be extinct for some time before Diabora was summoned."
Siberius could kill her right now, he was tempted to, but she seemed to know a lot about his past, more than even he knew.
"You knew my mother?" He finally worked up the courage to say something.
"Just stories. We hated her."
Siberius smiled.
"What did she look like?"
"You."
Siberius' heart skipped a beat.
"I'm not going to kill you now. You're too valuable."
Siberius laughed, "I was about to say the same thing."
"It'd be incredibly slack of you to kill me when I can't defend myself at this current time. I'll start moving in a few minutes. This is my payment, my toll for doing what I'm doing, for being who I am."
Siberius frowned, "What are you?"
"...A demon."

[Farrelei]

((Who is it!? D: ))

Fern crept around hallways, aiming for the service doors that led to the kitchen.
She hadn't seen any people the entire time. There were less than before.
The entire thing was a nightmare.
Around the corner was a hellish hallway. Blood smeared across windows, stained into walls, soaked into carpet. Her heart dropped and her young knees gave way. She shook as she tried to keep the contents of her stomach down.
The longer she sat there, the sicker she became. There was a certain smell to the hallway that caused her to want to crawl right back into that wardrobe she'd found and never come back out.
There's no point in running... No point...

A hand gripped her hair tightly. She shrieked and squirmed about on the floor.
"What the fuck are you doing here, girl?"
"I-I work here!"
As she was thrown into the wall, her head immediately ached with pain.
The man crouched over her. She could see him slowly, too slowly unsheathing the knife on his waist.
"P-Please! I can go here! That man said so! T-T-Tray.."
"Trale?" The man scoffed.
Fern nodded her head, "Yes.. Ask him, he said I could..."
The man threw her back against the wall once more, before lifting her up by the hair and pulling her off back the way she came.

As the carriage passed through the bridge of Eau Marché, the roars became louder. Most of them weren't friendly roars though, Eleanore noticed.
Almost immediately, there was a loud scuffle outside the carriage, and the whole thing rocked as thuds and yells filled their ears.
Bowen pulled the curtain that shrouded the door off to the side to see what was going on.
Apparantly, a small group of youths had attacked the carriage and were being hauled off by Liousian Guard.
"Great welcome, huh?"

---

When afternoon came, the carriage stopped at a small inn by the road. There weren't many people around by now, and most of them were security anyway.
They alighted for lunch inside the Inn, and departed after about an hour of rest.

((Lolboring))

[Frost]

She put her finger up to his lips, hushing him quietly.

---

"Are you going to kill me now that you know what I am?" She asked coldly, still frozen.
Siberius' breaths were shallow.
"Why not? You can just be summoned again."
"Not exactly. You can't just summon a demon anywhere. There are certain sanctuaries, specific locations where it can take place. 3 locations to be exact."
"And why is that?" Siberius asked.
"Imagine them as closed gateways. Your mother destroyed one. And hid another. The last, the original, was heavily guarded."
"Where is the original?" Siberius asked again.
She didn't answer.
"Where is it!?" Siberius spat angrily.
"Your standing on it."

[Farrelei]

((I was thinking there was another one back in the forest where Siberius was - unless that was the one Ercilia destroyed))

Fern recognised this door.
It was Eleanore's.
The door was thrown open, and Fern thrown inside.
"Mrs. Hemari. This little wanderer says Trale gave her the all-clear. What do you say?"
Fern looked up in alarm. She couldn't see who the woman was lying on the bed, for the post was too high up from her position on the ground.

But the thing that scared her most was not the person, but the room.
This is Eleanore's room... If someone else is in here then that means..
A coup d'état?

---

Kyou had sat daydreaming in his room all day. He heard scuffles outside and lots of conversations, but they were all boring. He realised it wouldn't be too long now before they'd have to leave.
Leave Gardaine forever, huh? No, it won't be forever.
He had never left the state - his home - before. And he was not expecting his first leave to be his last moments there, either.
Rapping at the door. "Sire.. Would you like some help packing?"
His eyes widened. It was his mother.
He unlocked the wooden door and stepped aside as she entered. "Thanks, Sarah, that would be helpful."
Since his incumbent as Sire, it was expected that his mother (for he never met his father) refer to him as Sire, as everyone else, and for he to refer to her as just any other lower member of the Organisation.
She hugged him, but only for a moment - as if silently whispering to him that she felt for him and she knew how he felt.
He missed their old conversations as mother and son.

---

"I can't sleep."
"I know. Neither can I."
"Why?"
"Hm, who knows?" he chuckled.
She smiled to herself, alone there in the bedroom, and reached out her hand to stroke the ice-cold blade of that mysterious sword by her bed once more.
"..Can I come see you?"
"...Only if you're careful."

---

"It's the last hope we have as an organisation. We've come so close. You all know this. If this fails, we'll have to wait for generations again."
There were murmurs among them. This went on for some minutes.
"..You're very right, Sire. How great it would be to grasp Fate right when we think our enemy has defeated us."
Kyou nodded, "Thank you. I'll go myself."
The Elders dismissed him, and he quickly and quietly left, with only the sharp-eyed Kitharis noticing, and following from a distance.

[Frost]

((Yeah that was the one that Ercilia destroyed))

The green water rippled.

---

Shelrair was slowly dabbing a soft cloth into a small glass jar of brown-coloured cream then applying it onto her face.
"Oh yeah she's fine! The little cutie is one of us now!" Shelrair exclaimed.
She literally jumped off of her stool that she was previously sitting on and skipped over to Fern, "We're going to leave the palace now, we've done what we had to do."

---

"There are 3 altars. One is in the Great Forest. It was destroyed by your mother. The second, deep in the Mountains. Although we have no exact location and no sufficient excavating tools or services. The third, is on one of the negative floors, concealed as a storage facility. Long been forgotten by people over time. But I wouldn't dwell on such things. If you as much as leave this room you'll be stopped. Besides, we aren't as bad as you imagine us to be."

"Oh really? I'm afraid you've got an odd way of showing it," Siberius replied, "You're all twisted. Hate-filled beings-"
"Wrong. Only few are twisted and hate-filled. We do what our title explains. I know things. I tell people what I know. That is not twisted or hate-filled."
Siberius frowned, trying to think of some sort of reply.
"We pre-existed side by side, humans and demons, although back then, we weren't called something so derogrative. We were simply called Brethren. We lived together and assisted each other, but soon enough, the humans grew cautious of our supernatural capibilities, and enslaved us. That is when we turned violent, and the First Demon War took place. We lost the first. Won the second. Thanks to The Hate((Diabora)), but soon after we began fighting amongst ourselves and eventually we either disappeared or returned to the depths."

This can't be true. She's lying. None of this could be true. Although a small part in Siberius knew that she was telling the truth.
"What's your name, then?" Siberius asked.
"My name is Jezebel. I hope you are different to the rest of your family, Feyanrer."

[Farrelei]

The man scoffed and left the room.
Fern pat her skin where the man had hurt her.
"Can I... Please go down with you, when you go? I really need to see if Mum's still fine."
Saying those words almost brought tears to her eyes themselves, the fact that her mother might be gone.

---

Kyou was quick - for the most part, he ran. He didn't have too much time, as the Organisation was still waiting for him back at Orthello's.
It took a while for him to get to the Chapel, and he began to question his logic by going on foot.

---

Rine chucked the bloodied rags of his clothes onto the bed that took up most of the room, then changed into the ones in the wardrobe. He was glad he finally found some clothes that fit. He tried to remember the boy's face before he died, but the memory just hurt him, so he stopped.
"Maybe we can escape. I'll take Lilly somewhere far away. One day. Then I'll ave my own clothes, and we'll eat real food."
He quietly shut the door and passed over the body of the woman, whom he didn't eat because it reminded him of Savannah.
When the coast seemed clear, he opened the front door and hurried down the street.