The Blue Rose Sunders

Champion of Caelira. That was why Adelphel never spoke to Illya, that was why Tiamat was forced to hold her tongue so often regarding her guidance. The gods and goddesses were not allowed to interfere with each other, so by assisting either Renji or Illya directly, they had to carefully navigate their own rules. Since Illya’s entire quest meant hounding down one of the champions of another god, that meant Adelphel could not offer direct assistance, though Illya could sense that the presence of corruption had changed the rules of the game somewhat. Adelphel was now more directly able to help Illya, even going so far as to bless her blade.

When Balam was reborn, he felt an overwhelming sense of despair. He knew upon his reincarnation that he was just destined to be slain again by the progeny of Aldelthorne’s royal brood. At the moment of his birth, it was already ordained just how he would die, and that had infuriated him, and thrown him into a deep despair. Taking pity upon the future dark lord, Caelira agreed that the forces of light had grown too powerful, and thus tipped the scales to try and achieve her ideal of balance, giving Balam her blessing so that he might be able to fight destiny. This blessing came in the form of the ability to alter his appearance, as well as use magic without using verbal components. However, she had not spoken to him since he began festering corruption.

He found the heart of corruption deep in the bowels of Barathûn. He had fed his subjects to it, and as it grew he realized that this was a power he could cultivate. With it, he was able to control the minds of those around him, to dominate them even from kingdoms away. It was his own unique element of magic, alive and thriving on hatred, just the same as him. However, he needed to ensure that it remained controlled. Sealing the beast within the dungeons beneath Barathûn, he would send the worst of his people there as capital punishment. When he would hunt beasts and monsters, if they were unworthy of greater attention, they were sent into that pit of flesh and made one with it. He had hoped to find other great beasts like the manticore to give special attention to, such as a dragon, but he had chosen to focus on his plan of toppling Aldelthorne from within.

He was a talented swordsman and magician with his ability to manipulate light and shadow aspected magic. He started off as an adventurer, and through his deeds received an invitation to join the royal army. By corrupting officials who thought little of him and currying favor with those above him, he used these tactics along with his natural talent to eventually become the famous head knight. Guardian of Illyandaril Rose, Princess of Aldelthorne, and captain of the castle guard. It was almost too easy, but due to his inability to corrupt the Princess, Hutch, or King Roland, he was forced to bide his time.

There was once a time when Balam had thought upon seeking peace. Illyandaril, though arrogant, even in her youth, did possess a pure heart. Her father was a wise, righteous man. Perhaps, he once thought, they could be won over through diplomacy and a silver tongue—though such flights of fancy were soon eradicated upon learning of Adelphel’s blessing to Illya.

It was as though the deity himself had sought to put a stop to his plans. The God of Order standing in the way of the Goddess of Balance. Such a farce was nearly enough to make him snap, but he had kept his calm. He could not afford a single slip of character to give the game away and reveal his great deception, but that day had affirmed to him that there would be no change of plans. There would be no peace. One side had to be destroyed, one way or another, and even then he had tried to make plans to spare Illyandaril from such destruction.

To think that the appearance of a single Outworlder was enough to bring down decades of meticulous planning. It made Balam wonder if King Roland was on to Balam’s schemes all along.

Illyandaril squared up, her axe still humming with a holy glow as Balam held his dark blade in front of him. His left arm may be gone, but he was by no means helpless. He was still The Dark Lord, his power was nothing to balk at. With a flick of Balam’s blade, a wave of shadow erupted towards Illyandaril, forcing her to dodge as she closed the distance for an attack. Parrying, Balam moved to exploit a weakness he had hammered into her since they began training. However, thanks to Renji’s efforts, her bad habits were no more. Not over-committing to her attacks as she did before, she pulled her axe back as she felt Balam begin his parry, and kept her blade upon his, maintaining control as she took control of his blade. Pushing his blade down, she swung upward to Balam’s face, forcing him to back off.

He tried to lift his blade once again, but Illya would not let him. Striking down firmly, she struck Balam’s blade out of his hand before slashing at him once more. Unable to hold onto his blade against such power, he could only step back and narrowly avoid a lethal blow. He was not done yet, however. Extending his right hand forward, he wordlessly cast the Volfrum spell as an all-consuming void began to grow at Illya. Narrowly dodging out of the way, Illya side-stepped more and more as more voids appeared around her.

With a low swing of her axe, Illya flung the magma that formed during Renji and Balam’s duel towards him. It was just starting to cool down, but it was still hot. Creating a void in front of him, Balam growled with annoyance at such a petty trick. When the void lowered, he saw a blade flying at him. Following his first instinct, Balam dodged to the right and low, expecting her axe to fly by his head. He raised his hand to Illyandaril, ready to deal the final blow, but with a sharp lift of her axe, she claimed Balam’s right hand.

Illya hadn’t thrown her axe again. Renji had thrown his rapier to Illya while Balam couldn’t see, and she waited for the void to start going away before timing her throw. Since she had already thrown her axe at him, he would expect her to do it again, allowing her to create an opening for her to exploit by letting him think she was unarmed. This was conditioning—something both Renji and Balam had taught her, though Balam never thought she’d have actually been able to achieve it.

As his right hand fell on the floor, Balam fell to his knees, laughing darkly as he lowered his head. “You conditioned me? Well done, my student. If only I had been more proactive. I thought that, because the goddess was on my side, that perhaps things would finally fall into place for me. I won’t fall for such overconfidence next time.”

As Illyandaril raised his axe, memories flooded Balam’s mind. From his wretched rebirth, to when he first trained Illyandaril. He recalled a time where she had run away, hiding within the castle to avoid training with him. When he found her, she cowered, shivering as she remained curled up into a corner. “I had a nightmare. I saw The Dark Lord in my dreams. He was hurting everyone. He hurt daddy. I don’t want to see him. I wish he would just go away!” She sobbed furiously into her hands, lamenting the unavoidable fate destiny had thrown at her feet, though she had no inkling then just how true her nightmares would become.

“Your Highness, there’s nothing to fear. As long as you have me, Hutch, and your father, you’ll be safe.” Balam had tried to assure her, extending his gloved hand to her. He hadn’t expected just how tightly she held on, as if she would drown were she to let go.

“Can you promise me? Promise you’ll always be there for me?” The little girl had begged, frightened to lose her comfort, wishing that those she cared about most would be with her forever.

Balam had felt his heart skip a beat in that moment. He realized then he had become an important person to the princess, and though his plans did not change, he swore to himself then that he would try to find a way to at least spare her life, even if it meant turning her into his puppet. Alas, his plans have failed him. Looking straight at Illyandaril, his eyes maintaining firm contact with hers, he extended what remained of his arms outward, inviting her impending strike with a smile.

Illya’s axe descended upon him, far more merciful than he deserved. It was over, though in succeeding, Illya had lost yet another person she once held dear.