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Chapter 22 - (Name is yet to come)

In Varrock, Timier was staring at the battle, surprise overtaking his expression. The beasts were retreating; the battle was ending. Not all the beasts were retreating, actually, but those that remained were too few for it to really matter. Only around three hundred beasts remained, of the five thousand that had been before; the tables were turning on them.

It was a grand sight, to see so many wild beasts running together, occasionally crashing together with frightening results. The colossal black demon Kolodion had transformed to was the only beast-like thing not running for its life. Unfortunately, some of the dragons didn’t like that, and took it as treachery.

A black dragon that was flying with lightning speed towards the Wilderness took its time, circling over Kolodion three times, blasting a large jet of fire as he went. The large, black demon limped down, and created another kind of blast, sending several beasts soaring almost ten feet away. No grand monster replaced the black demon, however, but a man, wearing the red robes of Zamorak.

Kolodion, now vulnerable in his human state, panicked, and sent spells everywhere, heedless of a target. That only did him so much good, however, and eventually the horde of beasts stampeded him to death.

That was the end of Kolodion, battle mage of the Mage Arena, one of Gielinor’s best mages.

Timier didn’t say anything about it, simply because he didn’t know. He was too busy summoning wolves into what remained of the battle, as most of the ones he summoned at the start were dead by now.

The finale of the battle took less than an hour, thanks to Falador’s militia. However, cries of joy or calls of victory did not sound after the battle, as what few men remaining of Varrock’s army were exhausted, and most depressed at the horrible loss that had happened during the night.

20-Sep-2006 00:01:45 - Last edited on 20-Sep-2006 00:03:50 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

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The White Knights knew better than to try and celebrate the victory, especially so soon, as it would have reaped no pleasure from the four hundred and seventy nine men, as that was the number of the living soldiers of Varrock.

A young White Knight removed his helmet and bowed his head, in memory of the fallen heroes of Varrock; others around him did the same, and soon not a single helmet was held aloft. Together, like brothers, they all bowed their heads in the memory of the various men that had fallen during this terrible battle. No one moved, and time seemed to stand still as the light touch of the morning breeze gently stroked the scorched battlefield, and the sun’s first rays looked upon the once-proud city. It was now anything but proud, filled to the brim in the whole north region with mangled corpses, most bearing the faces of somebody’s loved ones, and blood flowing through the streets, forming small crimson puddles.

They stood there like statues, silent as the grave many of their friends would soon enter, for two minutes, but then everybody started shuffling about, either to report to officers, carry out their commands, or just to get to a more silent place for thinking.

Arya was standing in the steps of the palace, leading to the grand, stylishly decorated oak doors, stretching her neck as high as she could as she skimmed the battlefield for Kashan. She couldn’t find him, however, so she leapt into the crowd of warriors now shuffling about aimlessly, instead of steadily slay beasts like they had almost the whole night.

She had to know he was safe, that he was all right. She couldn’t lose him now, not just when all this madness was ending; the thought was too unbearable for her. She ran through the crowd, constantly skimming around like a mad person, yelling his name as she went.

She ran around for over two minutes, and was almost started to think he wasn’t there, or worse; dead.

20-Sep-2006 00:01:47 - Last edited on 20-Sep-2006 00:04:15 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

[#80N8R0VWZ]

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The thought brought tears to her eyes, so she pushed it away again. She finally spotted him on the west side of the square as he ran about, looking as bewildered as she did. She yelled his name again, and this time he heard her.

He ran to her, so fast he was like a flash of light to the soldiers around them, and took around her waist, almost spanning the width with his hands. He seemed mesmerized with the sight of her eyes so close to his. She brought her hands around his shoulders, almost automatically, out of instinct.

They stood like that for a moment, silently, just looking at each other with joy, awe, and love in their eyes, but then Arya broke the silence. “You’re alive,” she exhaled; the tone of her voice and the look on her face nearly broadcasting relief.

Kashan finally got his eyes off her, and chuckled. “Yes, I am. Are you really that surprised?” he then asked with more amusement than curiosity in his voice.

Arya didn’t reply, but blushed slightly. She suddenly became very aware of his hands on her waist, the touch light but firm and she suddenly felt as though his hands emitted more warmth than before. He also seemed more masculine to her than ever before. Unexpectedly, she noticed attributes about him she hadn’t really taken note of before; the strong, muscular arms, the strong-looking chest, the slight curves of his face, and the kind but strong looking eyes.

She blushed again, and turned her head away, though she didn’t pull back. They gazed in each other’s eyes for a moment, and then, like on a cue, both moved their heads’ forwards, feeling the bliss of each other’s lips.

Kashan got lost in his thoughts and feelings, and when they finally broke away from each other, he felt as though it was the end of an era, and didn’* want to stop.

He hadn’t felt like this, ever before; not in the inn with Arya, not with Krystal before he disappeared; never.

20-Sep-2006 00:01:54 - Last edited on 20-Sep-2006 00:04:34 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

[#80N8R0VWZ]

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That had all been child’s games, blind tests of a person not yet an adult, but still not a child. It seemed so long ago, and it was over thirty-two years, even though it seemed less than a week to Kashan. He half expected feeling guilty about Krystal, but the feeling didn’t come. He waited for it, steeled himself for it, but it never came.

They just stood for a while, a wordless understanding between them, and quickly they scurried off from the battlefield into the woods just south of Varrock, completely unnoticed. However, nothing is secure, and two big, brown eyes watched them jump away, hand in hand. Away from the bloodiness of the battlefield, and to the amorous environment of the forest.

“Finally! I was starting to think they’d never realize each other,” the soft voice of Timier said to itself, delight in both his voice and eyes.

He was not the only one watching, or the only one delighted in what he saw, for time and space away, the tall figure of Zemouregal stared into a small mirror in his hand, portraying not himself, but Kashan and Arya.

He smiled as he concealed the mirror once more in his robes, ambling down a long corridor, a wicked grin on his face.

His thoughts were as dark as his robes, but what they were was known to him alone.

End of Chapter 22 and episode 3.

20-Sep-2006 00:03:06 - Last edited on 20-Sep-2006 00:04:49 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

[#80N8R0VWZ]

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Epilogue

Six months had passed since the great battle of Varrock. After the battle, morale in the city was lower than ever before, and the people needed something to celebrate. They found that in Kashan, as he had been the one who had vanquished Chronozon, Groshek, and even Xen. Also Toin, as he had been the one that killed the King Black Dragon, in addition to taking down the majority of the attacking hellhounds. Therefore, overnight, Kashan and Toin had both gained a nickname amongst the people of Varrock; Kashan became known as ‘Beast Slayer’, and Toin either ‘Dragon Slayer’ or ‘Hound Killer’.

As much help as Arya and Timier had been in those deeds, they didn’t get much credit, as people considered it was more luck than skill that they did what they did. Kashan wouldn’t let them forget their part, however, and although they tried to seem modest, everyone, especially Kashan, could see their chests swell with pride.

Life in the city was growing constantly closer and closer to normality, as the memories of the battle faded with each day. They were, however, still much too close for many people, and the population of Varrock crashed, but during and after the battle.

The southern regions of the city were mostly intact, and the people that had lost their homes during the battle were given shelter at various places in that part of the city, namely the Blue Moon Inn, and, to many people’s dislike, the Zamorak temple, the Black Arm and Phoenix gangs’ hideouts. The government had known of their lairs for months, but had still been planning the ‘extermination’ of the gangs when the war had begun. That came in very handy at those times of need, as the hideouts were among the largest buildings in the city, when the underground areas were taken into account.

With the White Knights came news of King Roald, along with medicine, tools for the rebuilding of buildings, and provisions, as Varrock had lost the majority of its supplies.

20-Sep-2006 00:03:07 - Last edited on 20-Sep-2006 00:05:30 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

[#80N8R0VWZ]

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Goblins had attacked King Roald’s carriage on its way to Falador, killing everyone within, including the King. This was of course a great loss, but fortunately not a final one. The King had had an heir, a three years old son, but Queen Ellamaria was to rule the city until he came of age.

During those six months, Kashan and Arya had spent almost every waking moment with each other, and had gotten ever closer to each other. Timier and Toin had also become very good friends during that time, as both had suffered the loss of a good friend, and understood each other very well, now more than ever before. Kaiser, however, had grown ever more distant from them, and spent most of his time in the Zamorak temple, where, coincidentally, Elissa had found refuge after the destruction of her home.

End of Epilogue, and Episode 2.

20-Sep-2006 00:03:09 - Last edited on 20-Sep-2006 00:05:42 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

[#80N8R0VWZ]

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Episode 3, Chapter 1 - (Name is yet to come)

A mere day had passed since the battle, and the mood in the inn was glum. Timier and Toin were sitting at a wall table over a couple of beers, which was evidently supposed to be their dinner, when one of the now few Varrock guards came into the inn, furious. He slammed the door behind him with a crash, and walked towards the bar as if his wife were cheating on him with the bartender.

“They’re going to burn the corpses!” he almost yelled at the bartender as he slammed himself into one of the barstools. “They won’t bury them; that’s too expensive! They’re just going to burn the whole god **** lot!”

Timier and Toin looked up from their drinks, each thinking his own; Timier about Kolodion, his childhood friend, and Toin about Horas, his best friend and drinking partner for many years.

“Burn the corpses?” Toin said to himself, his voice maudlin and slurred. “But… Horas wanted to be buried…”

Timier didn’t listen, but had already stood up, dropped a few gold coins on the bar, and was venturing towards the door.

“Where’re yeh going?” Toin called to him in surprise when his slowed down mind finally registered the movement.

“I’m going to get Kolodion’s body for burying. A man as proud as he should not wither away to ashes,” he replied as he exited. Toin sat still for a few moments, staring at the door as if it bore the answer to all of life’s questions, but the event finally registered, and he jumped up, knocking the chair down as he went.

“Wait for me!” he yelled at the door as he staggered towards it, and exited noisily. The bartender smiled after him, and gave a chuckle as the door crashed open, closely followed by Toin jumping back to the table, throwing back his beer, grabbing his helmet, and then exiting again.

20-Sep-2006 00:04:59 - Last edited on 20-Sep-2006 00:07:13 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

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They rushed to the palace, ignoring the emptiness of the streets and the misery in the air. When they reached the palace, the two guards at its front let them through when they noticed Toin Dragon slayer. They weren’t so lucky with the guards in front of the throne room, however, as they had gotten strict orders not to let anyone through. When Timier told them the errand, the guards smiled.

One spoke to them soothingly. “They’ll get their graves, no worries. All the commanders are getting private graves, and that battle mage -”he was cut off by Timier’s venomous voice.

“Kolodion!”

The guard didn’t seem taken aback by this sudden outburst at all, and merely continued.

“Yes, Kolodion, wrecked so much havoc amongst the Wilderness, that Kai and Queen Ellamaria have decided to reward him with the only thing they can reward a dead man: a proper funeral.”

Timier gave him a slightly venomous look when he said the part about the dead man, but didn’t say anything, and turned around to leave. The door flew open as he was walking away, revealing Kai on the other side, bow in hand as always.

“Ah, Timier!” he called cheerily as he was walking away, and then noticed Toin, who was still trying to grasp the situation. “And Toin! How convenient! This saves the runner a trip; here, take this,” he said as he passed Timier a small scroll; he didn’t expect Toin to so much as remember the letter. “Don’t open it ‘till you get back to the inn, and let Kashan and Arya know as well. Goodbye.” He seemed to slide back into the room as he closed the door on Timier and a very confused Toin.

As they were walking back to the inn, Toin looked questioningly up at Timier, and his slurred voice sounded through the halls.

“Who was that?”

When they returned to the inn, they found Kashan and Arya on the bar, chatting over a couple of drinks. Timier and Toin sat with them and filled them in about the letter before opening it.

20-Sep-2006 00:05:01 - Last edited on 20-Sep-2006 00:07:31 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

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It was an invite, for them all to a dinner with Queen Ellamaria, two weeks from that day.

Arya seemed slightly frustrated, and, like befits a true woman, instantly began worrying about what to wear. “Well, this is just great!” she virtually yelled over them when they finished the letter, “I get an invitation to dine with royalty, just when I decide to leave home, and all my dresses with it! What am I supposed to wear?” she ranted like this most of the evening, but finally calmed down enough to fall asleep.

The days went by, and the next week began with Kashan coming into the inn with a rectangular brown box, decorated with a single red bow, while the others were still eating their breakfasts.

It turned to contain a beautiful satin dress.

“How could you afford this? It must have cost a fortune!” Arya exclaimed as she examined the dress, mesmerized by its splendour.

“Well, I wanted to get you a nice dress for the dinner invitation, so I went to access my bank account. I got the shock of my life when I saw how much I had on it.” The others looked questioningly at him, and he chuckled. “Let’s just say disappearing for thirty-two years plus interests really helps with your account,” he said smiling, and that was the end of that.

Arya instantly demanded that they would dress up too, and after pestering them for an hour, she got Kashan and Timier to dress up; Toin acutely denied any attempts of Arya’s to dress up, and intended on going in his armour.

The days passed by, and Arya never let Toin out of hearing range. Eventually they came to a compromise; that he would spiff up his armour a bit. Arya seemed to make peace with that, and stopped pestering Toin. He didn’t make the adjustments until the day before they left, by which time Arya was nigh impossible to live with out of excitement, and the changes he made didn’t help with her mood. He had turned the armour from strong looking and dense to intimidating and frightening.

20-Sep-2006 00:05:02 - Last edited on 20-Sep-2006 00:07:44 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

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The day finally came, and so, a mere two weeks after the battle, the three people and the dwarf marched to the palace wearing their finest clothing.

Arya was wearing the dress from Kashan, a long, smooth, thin satin dress, leaf green over the majority of it, but a slightly darker green around the neckline, the shoulders, and the wrists. It was low-necked, which emphasized the elegant amulet around her neck, the balance amulet Kashan had given her, and with an open back, which gave it a graceful and enticing look. Her hair was flowing elegantly behind her in three separated, flowing locks, each elegantly adorned with beautiful golden buckles.

Arya** face glowed, partly with excitement over meeting the Queen of Varrock, but mostly with a roughish grin at Kashan, who had barely been able to take his eyes off her since they left the Inn.

Kashan was wearing a plain, soft red-leather tunic, with four golden buttons neatly lined along the front of the upper body, and small diamond cuff links. His trousers were a slightly darker red, though the difference was so little it was barely noticeable. They had a fracture on the knee, which made them seem like they were made up of two parts, sown together, though there were no visible seams. He was walking as majestically as he could, but the sight of Arya and the thought of returning the tunic back to the clothes store tomorrow made it look like he was having a backache.

Timier had followed suit, and put away the powerful mystic robes for a thick, beige shirt, made of smooth leather, and leather pants with a similar fracture as Kashan’s, but tree-brown. He hadn’t parted with his life staff, though, but used is as a walking stick instead. The magical aura it emitted collaborated with the suit, giving him a stunning and imperative look. His poise was what Kashan was attempting to achieve, though with much better results.

20-Sep-2006 00:05:59 - Last edited on 20-Sep-2006 00:07:56 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

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