AN: Extra long chapter this time. Enjoy~

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Chapter 8:

It was already dusk when Falkner and the others made their way back to the Researchers' Clinic. Nitish, Achyuta, Telem, and Zesiro, however, remained back at the Adalbern's fallen estate. Denzil was out for the count, rightfully defeated by Varuna. Talon and Naseer could still cause them a bit of trouble.

Well, maybe not with Zesiro there.

Biast was the one who carried Bryce into the clinic with Isiah close behind. And Roxbury carried an unconscious Varuna on his back. Isiah had done a quick assessment of Varuna, and stated that he was merely suffering from exhaustion, a common occurrence after he went into Silent Assassin Mode.

Isiah's main concern was Bryce. From what he said, Falkner did a good job stemming the blood with a medica soaked rag. But something unknown had happened during that ritual, and that had to be the reason he was still unconscious. Though, his state is somewhat similar to that of Varuna's.

So, hopefully, it was just exhaustion as well.

"Falkner!"

As soon as he stepped inside, Falkner uttered a huff when Fletcher suddenly ploughed into him, wrapping his arms around his waist as he pressed his face into his chest. He managed a small smile as he wrapped his arms around his brother's shoulders. "Hey, kiddo."

He was so glad that Fletcher was not involved in any of...that.

Falkner raked his fingers through Fletcher's hair idly to comfort him as Biast carried Bryce into the patient's examination room, and Mahalah helped Roxbury to lay Varuna down upon the couch.

Fletcher pulled back from the hug and suddenly grabbed a hold of his arm, pulling back the sleeve. "You're hurt."

Falkner glanced down at his wrists as Fletcher pulled back the other sleeve. Huh. He hadn't realised that he had been bleeding, too. It must have happened when he ripped off his own bindings in an attempt to get to Bryce.

"Miach, can you fix these?" Fletcher requested, pulling Falkner over to the seating area.

Miach looked up from where he stood next to Varuna and promptly nodded his head. He toddled over to his medical kit as Falkner dropped down onto an empty seat to give Miach room to clean his very minor injuries. But as he watched the vague medic sort through his equipment, he caught sight of Blayden sat at the kitchen table, with Baldur occupying a chair next to him.

A pair of crutches were set against the table within reach.

He had probably been sitting there since discovering Bryce was not back from the inn.

"Falkner." Roxbury sat down in another chair, pivoting to give Falkner his full attention. "What happened?"

Fair question.

Falkner leaned back into the couch, allowing for Miach to dress his injured wrists as he began to explain what had happened that very day. Starting from the unexpected meeting with a so-called detective, to Bryce rescuing a stabbing victim from drowning. From recognising the necklace, to Falkner being overly nosy and heading to the now desolated Adalbern estate.

He sorta, kinda glossed over how he was caught and how they blackmailed Bryce into compliance. He did reveal some of the ramblings they had learnt from Denzil about the 'crimes' of the Adalberns, and what he wanted to do.

And how he seemed to think that Bryce was the last heir of the family.

If the legend linked to the necklace was to be believed, then Bryce was indeed the heir of the Adalbern estate. And everything that was held in the vault.

When he reached the part of the story regarding the ritual, he became purposely vague once more. Blayden was listening in, after all. He did not want to mention how Bryce had screamed in pain. Not a grunt, not a grumble; a scream.

Falkner had never, ever heard such a sound before in his life. He never imagined that he would hear Bryce, of all people, utter such a sound.

He never wanted to hear it again. Never again.

With stark white bandages around his wrists, Falkner gave Roxbury a curious look. "How did you find us?"

Their timing was nothing short of amazing. They were at a critical point. Denzil plotted revenge and had wanted Bryce to be his 'slave.' Talon was not any better, with him wanting to...possess Falkner. Falkner was on his own. He was not skilled enough to fight the three sociopathic men on his own while keeping Bryce safe.

"The man Bryce rescued awoke at the hospital," Roxbury explained. "He told Isiah that someone was after Bryce, and that resulted in Varuna and I immediately going in search of him. We found Blayden's belongings discarded in the street. Along with it, a photo."

A photo? Wait, the photo.

Falkner winced. "Who else saw-?"

"Just me, Varuna, and Isiah," Roxbury promptly answered.

Good. He did not want his little brother seeing him in such a state.

"After that, we didn't know where to begin looking. Then Durriken suggested dowsing."

Dowsing?

Before Falkner could ask for further details, the door to the patient's room opened, and Isiah appeared. Everyone immediately turned toward him expectantly.

"How is he?"

Isiah did not answer, however, instead motioned with his hand for Falkner to join him in the office. He was fairly certain what he wanted to know, and he was grateful for the opportunity, as well as the privacy. That was something he did not want to blurt out to the younger members of the guild.

Dutifully, Falkner pushed up from his seat and immediately followed Isiah into his office.

"How's the wrists?" he asked as he shut the door behind him.

Falkner lifted his hands to reveal the white bandages around his wrists. "Miach took care of them."

"Good, good," Isiah murmured, but soon got to the point. "Now, what happened to Bryce?"

Deciding to get straight to the heart of the matter, also, Falkner explained what he had witnessed to the best of his ability. From the chains, to the runic writing, to being literally stabbed through the arm with a sword.

He was reluctant to go into detail about how much pain Bryce appeared to be in, as his agonised screaming still haunted his ears. But he forced himself to do so, to explain to Isiah what happened.

And Isiah did not look remotely happy after his explanation. "What's this about a ritual?"

Falkner shook his head. "I'm not sure. They used him as a conductor of sorts. Transferring two Burst Skills into a blade."

Isiah's frown deepened, indicating that he was silently furious, doing his best to suppress his protective bristling. "Nitish is still at the place. He might be inspecting the tomes there. Or maybe just the altar."

From what he understood, there was no need to resort to such outlandish methods. Nitish himself had transferred the analytic burst skill into numerous tomes. Though, it was likely due to the rather benign nature of the spell. Of course, he was hardly an expert on such matters.

"How is he?" Falkner asked again.

"He'll be fine," Isiah replied, though he said such words while raking his hand through his hair in an agitated manner. "Thankfully, the wound to his arm was a clean cut. Still, he's on anti-biotics for a while. He's got exhaustion, though. Almost as if he was drained of energy."

That caused Falkner to wince. "Will it be permanent?"

"I don't think so, but I can't be a hundred-percent sure." And Isiah did not like not being a hundred-percent sure about anything.

A ruckus outside in the sitting room put a halt to any further conversation between the two. But the voices were immediately recognisable; the four that had remained back at the Adalbern estate have returned.

Both Falkner and Isiah moved toward the door, only to receive a quiet knock. Isiah leaned forward and opened the door, revealing Nitish standing there.

"I think I understand what happened with Bryce," he immediately admitted.

Falkner breathed a sigh of relief. Good ol' Nitish. He knew that he would figure out what that ritual could have done to Bryce. He patted Nitish's shoulder as he moved past him through the door. It would be best if he left the two of them alone to exchange medical notes and observations.

He did pause just outside the room, however. "Will Bryce be staying in the patient's room tonight?"

Isiah shook his head. "No, he'll be more comfortable in Varuna's room, with Varuna. I'll get Biast to move the two later. For now, let them rest. They're both going to be fine."

He had said that loud enough for everyone to hear, and the relief from their remaining teammates was palpable. He sent their dedicated medic a nod, knowing full well that he and Nitish were likely to have a long night ahead of them. Best not to cause them any more trouble.

He had caused enough.

In the seating room were three other figures: Telem, Achyuta, and Zesiro. The latter of the trio speaking quietly with Roxbury. And from the little pieces of information, the blond imperial was simply informing him of what had occurred after they left.

"Yeah, the vault is shut. Don't know why. But the three have been arrested."

"In prison?"

"Trust me; they're not going anywhere."

Of course, that was said with a smirk. Not that Falkner minded. Denzil was likely still unconscious, and should he awaken, he'd wish he was unconscious.

"I think it would be best if we all stay at the clinic for the night," Roxbury suddenly announced.

And, honestly, Falkner thought it was a good idea. The three men had been arrested and were languishing in prison, but for everyone's peace of mind, they needed to be together.

... ... ... ... ...

Falkner eased himself into a sitting position, moving slowly so not to disturb Fletcher sleeping next to him. He draped his blanket over his little brother before he pushed up from the bed. He raked a hand through his hair as he carefully moved along the bodies of his sleeping teammates and made his way to the back door.

Just as he had predicted; he was not able to get any sleep. A bit of fresh air might help.

The night air was crisp, but not too cool. He sat down on the bottom step to stare out into the back garden, lit only by the full moon above. As he stared out at the lush orchard, created by Nitish's talents, he idly trailed a fingertip over the bandages wound around his left wrist.

Huh. All that happened in just one day, didn't it? In a few hours, no less.

And it could have turned disastrous.

Falkner uttered a sigh as he rested his chin in his hand and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. He knew that he should not be bothered by the little 'what ifs' now that everyone was safe and the antagonists responsible were in prison. But he still felt an intense feeling of guilt.

After all, his nosiness led to him being taken captive and then used as both a lure and reassurance of Bryce's compliance.

True, if they had not used him as a hostage, they would have used someone else. Or even resort to other, more volatile methods. And there was no way he could have known that some self-justified asshole who want to use Bryce in a ritual in a form of misguided revenge.

Still...

He was pulled from his musings when the door behind him opened with a quiet squeak. He immediately turned his head to look over his shoulder, half expecting to find resident empath Nitish gazing down at him in concern.

However, he also was not surprised that it was Telem that stood at the threshold.

"You should be resting," Telem said, though stepped outside and shut the door behind him all the same.

"Ah, sorry. Couldn't sleep," Falkner replied simply.

Telem titled his head quizzically to the side. "Your wrists?"

"Hm." Falkner glanced down at his wrists out of instinct. "They're fine."

They were not the thing that was bothering him.

"I should have gone with you," Telem suddenly blurted out.

Falkner sighed. He had figured Telem would have that weighing on his mind. "It's fine. I wasn't expecting anything to happen."

Especially not something like that. Who could have predicted something like that?

He had better remember that little tidbit whenever his own guilt raised its ugly head.

"But something did happen," Telem continued, a tight scowl on his face. "You should have told me where you were going beforehand."

Yeah, he probably should have. But hindsight was twenty-twenty, after all. Besides...

"You were needed here," Falkner countered as he pushed himself to his feet. "With Durriken. He needed you more."

Telem stilled, unable to respond.

Falkner turned and gave him a hopefully reassuring smile. "You can't deny that. Durriken is far more important to you. I get that. That's why I didn't tell you."

Telem shifted uncomfortably on his feet, though made no attempt to step away from the door, to allow Falkner back inside. "Still..."

Guilt was so unfair. There was no point in both of them wallowing in it.

"No, I absolutely will not be the reason that the two of you are apart. He's...fragile right now. He's surrounded by those he's mostly unfamiliar with. He needs you more." Falkner thumped his hand lightly against the centre of Telem's chest. "You should go sit with him now. He was the one to suggest the pendulum, right? He must be tired."

And Falkner should probably go check on Fletcher. He did not want to bring him any more worry than he had already caused.

They both had others that counted on them. It was for the best.

Still, that was not the direction he expected a conversation between the two of them to take. He supposed it was understandable that everyone was still on edge, after everything that had happened. After all, all of their previous experiences and close encounters involved the labyrinths or places outside of the city.

Not in the centre of it. Not in some random, rundown estate of a long-forgotten family.

Telem still did not move out of his way, however. Simply stared at him, his expression stoic, but his gaze conveying an emotion that Falkner could not quite put his finger on. He found himself mulling over what it was that shone in Telem's eyes as the nightseeker took a step forward, off the top stair and directly in front of Falkner.

Where he hugged him suddenly, his face pressed against the curse of Falker's neck.

Falkner blinked in surprise and became completely still. He had not expected something like that, either. Yet...he did not attempt to push the other away from him. He, honestly, saw no need to do so.

"Must there be a choice?" Telem asked, his voice muffled against Falkner's shoulder.

...No, he supposed not.

Falkner sighed as he wrapped his arms around Telem in return. "It's...not a definitive decision. It's not one or the other. But there will be times where one person will be in need of more attention."

And that was fine. That did not mean they cared any less.

He really worried Telem there, today. He obviously had not meant to. But worried, he was. And it was up to Falkner to give him the comfort he needed. It was the most useful way of saying sorry.

It would help him in return.

... ... ... ... ...

That pain...it had stopped.

Bryce furrowed his brow as his mind bombarded him with muddled information. He was somewhere dark, but warm. Whatever he was lying on was soft and oh-so comfortable, as was the thick...thing draped over him.

Though he felt comfortable, his body was heavy with fatigue.

He was in pain before. So much pain.

He was...somewhere cold before. Somewhere harsh. He was not there anymore. Where was he?

Peeling his eyes open took a lot more effort than Bryce was used to, and after a few slow, drawn-out moments, his eyelids fluttered open. And though his vision was blurred, he saw a white ceiling far above him. A sight that was somewhat familiar.

Something stirring next to him prompted Bryce to roll his head to the side. And was promptly greeted by the sight of a beautiful, porcelain face and flawless white hair.

Varuna...

His body sank into the mattress. Yeah, he was on a bed. A comfortable one. One he was familiar with. He was...home. In Varuna's room, back at the clinic. With Varuna sleeping quietly, peacefully next to him.

Although his body ached in protest, Bryce raised his right arm, intent of brushing his fingers against Varuna's cheek.

But a streak of pain immediately brought him to a halt and his eyes widen, silently in fear that he was about to experience, to endure even more pain.

It faded shortly after stilling, thankfully.

Letting his head roll back into its original position, Bryce slowly raised his right arm again. And started at the thick white bandages that started from his wrist and ended to his elbow.

As he stared, memories of that pain came flooding back. His body immediately twitched, tensing in preparation for incoming agony.

That pain...Wh-what was that?

In response to his confusion, his mind began to replay memories - a necklace, an abandon manor, a vault, and an altar. It was all so vague to him. The only thing he remembered clearly was the pain.

It hurt. God, it hurt so much. He had never felt anything like it. It was unreal. All he could think, all that his mind could focus on was the pain, and how much it hurt. It was like someone constantly dragging red-hot irons along every inch of his skin. Slowly, ensuring that every cell of his being felt the...intrusive violence.

He was not in that pain at the moment, but he could recall it. It made his body twitch, his heart race, and his throat to tighten.

It was just...so painful.

A soft moan and a stirring from the lithe form next to him pulled Bryce from his musings. He placed his arm carefully onto the bed next to him and he rolled his head to the side once more. He found a great sense of comfort as he watched Varuna start to awaken, his eyelids fluttering open.

His gaze immediately caught his.

Varuna suddenly shot up and leaned over him, his long white-hair curtaining over his shoulders gracefully. He leaned on his right elbow and rested his hand against Bryce's chest. His crimson red eyes were so vibrant, even in the shadows of the dark room.

"Are you ok? Are you in any pain?" he asked him.

The pain was nothing compared to what it was.

Bryce swallowed thickly. "Wh-what happened?"

Varuna simply gazed at him for a moment, mentally mulling over in his mind what he should say to answer that. "What do you remember?" he asked instead, idly rubbing his thumb against his chest.

It was Bryce's turn to remain silent. He remembered the runaway carriage with Blayden lucky to get away with only minor injuries. He remembered rescuing someone he thought was a drunkard, only to realise they were a victim of an attack. And he remembered the attacker.

Then...that manor with a vault. A smug asshole who hated him for the sole reason of how he perceived him to be. Then standing before the vault. And...an altar.

There...was someone else there with him. He remembered him calling his name in alarm. Calling out to him a couple of times.

Shit.

Bryce abruptly lifted his head up off the pillow. "Falkner? Is he ok?"

Varuna pressed his hand firmly against his chest, preventing him from moving any further. "Falkner's safe. He's more worried about you."

Another sharp from his arm caused Bryce to wince and to sink back down upon the mattress once more. He had a lot of questions about what happened after he...endured that pain. But it would have to wait until morning, or later. He was too tired to care much for now.

They were not important for the time being, anyway. He was home, lying in a warm and comfortable bed, with Varuna's warmth next to him.

"Are you in pain?" Varuna asked him again.

"A little," Bryce admitted, yet was still somewhat dismissive. "Not as bad as before, though. How's Blayden?"

Varuna immediately noted that Bryce was reluctant to talk about himself, and thankfully allowed him to change the direction of their conversation. "Resting. As you should be." He lowered himself back onto the bed and pressed himself against Bryce's side. "Everyone is safe, including you. We'll talk more in the morning."

Bryce simply nodded his head and allowed himself to relax further into the oh-so soft bed.

Varuna curled up next to him, an arm draped over his stomach as he rested his head against his chest. The position gave a sense of comfort, yet it was easy for Bryce to note that he was feeling protective. Which he was thankful for. He closed his eyes and let his chin rest against the top of Varuna's head, finding comfort in the silky strands of his hair.

He would talk about what happened later. Sometime later...

... ... ... ... ...

Bryce was never the one for sitting still for very long.

Yet, as he sat in the opulent back garden of the Researchers' Clinic, the morning sun beaming down upon him, he did not have the strength to move. His mind would not remain idle, however. Replaying what happened over and over again.

He had spent about an hour that very morning speaking with Isiah, Varuna, and Nitish about what he had endured on that forsaken altar. It was difficult to describe the pain, and as he bumbled his way through it, he noted that Varuna was an interesting mixture of concern and protective fury.

After his explanation, he learnt of what happened after he...fell unconscious.

To think that the only reason Varuna and others had found them was thanks to a strange little pendulum, something they had never used before.

But, man, it must have been hard for Falkner to witness all of that. Bryce could not imagine being in that position; watching a teammate endure unfathomable pain and not being able to do anything about it. Though, he did hurt himself in order to get to Bryce and render some first aid.

He remembered, rather vaguely, someone calling out to him, and that voice reminded him of Falkner. But it felt like a lost, distant memory.

Bryce shifted in his seat, attempting to find another comfortable position. His body felt infinitely more sensitive. A side-effect of the pain he had endured, Isiah told him. Nitish promised to make a tonic to help him ease his mind.

He looked down at his bandaged arm.

Stabbed through the arm. You would think that he would remember receiving such an injury. It was not something one could ignore. Yet, he had not felt it. At all. Only the pain of the runic writing using his body as a temporary vessel before escaping into the blade that was stabbed through said arm.

It was proof how painful that ritual was. There just...was not enough words, especially in Bryce's limited vocabulary, to describe how painful it was.

Like...like a void of pain.

That pain scared him. It was unlike anything he had experienced before. He never wanted to experience it again.

Never again.

"Hey."

Bryce carefully placed his arm onto his lap and turned his head to the right, where Falkner made his way over to him. "Hey."

Falkner sat down on the edge of the garden bench next to him. "How you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Bryce immediately insisted, though a twinge in his back caused him to shift in his seat once more. "Just a little bit stiff in some places."

Falkner nodded his head idly, his hands curling around the edge of the bench. "...I'm sorry about what happened," he unexpectedly said.

Idiot. Feeling guilt about something he could not control. If Bryce had recognised that necklace as a family emblem, he would have gone by himself to have a look around, too.

"Don't be stupid," Bryce swiftly retorted. "That asshat was deranged. Better to have gone to him rather than have him hunting for me."

If the bastard thought Blayden was also a Adalbern, who knows what hideous methods he would have resort to. The guy was definitely unstable.

Bryce furrowed his brow. "What happened to the asshole, anyway? Varuna simply said that he's not a threat anymore."

The corner of Falkner's twitched into a half smile. "He would say that. Varuna was the one took care of Denzil. The asshole never saw him coming."

Bryce had no trouble finding a bit of joy in that. "I bet."

Though he did feel a sense of guilt. Varuna was likely in Silent Assassin Mode. It was a state that Bryce did not like him converting to. It was stressful on his body. Draining. He usually had to take a day or so to recover, depending on how powerful said threat was.

He did not seem that fatigued today, though...

"He wasn't in Silent Assassin Mode, though."

Now that surprised Bryce. "What?"

Falkner leaned back into the bench more comfortably and folded his arms across his torso. "He was, initially. But Denzil said something so stupid that it pulled him right out of it. He grabbed him, hefted him over his shoulder, and slammed him headfirst into the ground. Denzil didn't get up after that."

Seriously?

"Pity I missed that," Bryce mumbled.

Man. He wondered what kind of expression Denzil had on his face when he faced off against Varuna. The guy was conceited, having both Talon and Naseer snivelling up to him. He was so filled with hatred. Self-justified hatred.

Varuna would not have given a shit what his motives were.

Bryce shifted in his seat once more, pushing and shoving at the pillow behind his back. "I still can't fathom it."

Falkner tilted his head to the side. "The hatred?"

"Yeah." Bryce uttered a huff and just leaned back into the bench. "Imagine going all your life detesting someone who you don't even know."

Falkner nodded. "I don't understand it, either. And I guess we never will."

The fact that he thought the Adalbern family got away Scot free was delusional. The name was unheard of. The family estate in ruins. Amazing how one person's lies destroyed an entire legacy. Although, it was possible that it took more than one person to destroy an entire family.

There had to be another heir, surely.

"What are you going to do about Adalbern?" Falkner suddenly asked him.

Bryce frowned. "What do you mean?"

Falkner shrugged lightly. "If the necklace's legend is to be believed, you're the heir."

And the vault had opened before him.

And that altar...

Bryce suppressed a shiver. "...I could care less about what's in that vault."

"Well, it's not like it's going anywhere," Falkner tried to comfort. "We can deal with it later."

"Yeah, later."

He may have opened the vault, but he was not an heir. The Adalbern name meant nothing to him. They were not his family.

Bryce found a sense of contentment as Varuna and a few others entered the garden from the clinic. Varuna with a pillow, no doubt for him to make himself more comfortable. Nitish with Achyuta, the runemaster carrying a cup of tea that was, again no doubt, a tonic of some kind. And the younger members, including Blayden who was being aided with a crutch in one arm and the other held by Baldur, promptly followed suit.

Varuna and Nitish immediately made their way over to him and began to fuss. The others, though, revealed that they had blankets and pillows of their own, and were spreading them out onto the grass, half in the sunlight, half in the shade.

Bryce was not used to being fussed over, but he supposed it would not hurt to be centre of attention for a change. So, he allowed himself to be pulled down onto the blanket with his brother, Blayden to one side of him with Varuna on the other. To lie out on the blankets, to enjoy the warmth of the sun and the comfort of his loved ones by his sides.

He did not need to know who his ancestors were to enjoy being with his true family.

No, he had already found his true family.