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Episode 2, Chapter 1 - The return.

Timier was deep in thought as he walked from the Mage Arena to the deserted keep, where he could use the lever to teleport from the Wilderness. He sighed, thinking of past events not too far from here. Though he had looked hard, there were no books dealing with the subject of the Edge, or what lay beyond.

He was now forty-two years of age. Thirty-two years had passed since Kashan and Krystal had disappeared through the Edge, and he felt every one of them.

He was 5’11 now, his hair was now leading down to the lower edge of the back of his neck, and even with all the experience and wisdom in them, his eyes were still big and innocent. He was wearing white mystic robes, which he had kept on every day since he turned eighteen. He didn’t wear the hat thought; it was too pointy. In his hand, he held a mystic air staff, though he used it mainly as a walking stick nowadays.

When he was about halfway to the Lever, he noticed the ***** body of a man face down on the ground. All he had were some claws on his hands and a chain around his neck, most likely for an amulet.

“Oh great, another victim of those Zamorakian soldiers that roam around here,” he thought bitterly as he noticed the body. When he got closer, he saw the man’s chest moving. He wasn’t dead!

When he noticed this, he began running to the man, preparing some healing spells as he went, but couldn’t see any wounds on him of any kind.

“I can’t heal wounds that aren’t there! What the hell happened to him then?” he thought as he came next to the man and bowed down. When he came so close, he noticed there was something strange about the claws on his hands. They had an unnatural curve to them, almost like a scimitar*s, and even more surprising: they were red.

19-Sep-2006 23:11:16 - Last edited on 19-Sep-2006 23:16:18 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

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As he went to take them off the man, to examine them more closely, the man suddenly flew up, torso first, as if his feet were glued to the ground and an invisible force were pulling his upper body. All in one very fast and continuous motion, he put his claws on Timier’* neck, stopping not even half an inch from his skin.

“Who are you!? What do you want from me?!” the man yelled at Timier, looking enraged and scared at the same time. Now Timier could see his face, and tears came into his eyes.

“Kashan?” he asked hopefully, afraid that this was a dream that would vanish if he spoke. Kashan didn’t seem to have aged at all, he was still the same 19-year-old boy that had gone off exploring the Wilderness.

Now Kashan's rage seemed to wear off. He took the claws off Timier’* neck and hid his face in his hands as if he had a headache.

“You know me, but I don’t know you,” Kashan said suspiciously after he had unveiled his face again. Then he added, questioningly, but still suspicious: “Who are you?”

“Kashan, I’m Timier,” he replied, still whispering with tears in his eyes.

Kashan was startled, but shook it off. There could be hundreds of Timier’s in the world.

“Timier who, where are you from?” he retorted.

“I’m Timier Swanblade of Edgeville,” he stated, seeing the startled look on Kashan's face. Swanblade was their family name.

“That can’t be!” he barked at Timier. “Timier Swanblade is ten years old!”

“Kashan, you’ve been gone for thirty two years. I am forty-two years old now. And you’re fifty one,” he said, and the look on his face made Kashan believe anything he said. For a second he looked startled, and then he passed out.

End of Chapter 1 of second episode.

19-Sep-2006 23:11:17 - Last edited on 19-Sep-2006 23:16:42 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

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Chapter 2 - Reunion

When Kashan woke up, he was lying on a simple traveling mat, clothed in a simple cyan shirt and some brown, weary work pants. A few feet away, there was a fire that had obviously been lit using magic; it was burning blue. Next to the fire, he saw the man that had called himself Timier, still wearing the white mystic robes, throwing some sticks into the fire.

Kashan sat up without a sound and watched the fire burn through a couple of sticks for a few minutes. Then he shook himself, and started talking to the man.

“I don’t know who you are, but you’re not Timier.” He stated, matter-of-factly.
The man did not answer him for a couple of seconds, and then he started talking as if Kashan hadn’t said anything at all.

“Kashan, what’s the last thing you remember? And what year do you think it is now?” he asked like a father talking his son, kind, patient, and understanding.

“I remember going with my friends to the Wilderness, and I remember a giant paw slapping me into the ground. I also remember going after Krystal into the Edge, but I came back in a second!” He said, reliving his journey through the Wilderness. “And it’s the year 137 of the fifth age,” he stated firmly.

“It is the year 169 of the fifth age, Kashan,” Timier said kindly as he went poking in the fire again. “And you were not gone for ‘a second’. You were gone for thirty two years, to the day.” He was still talking in that kind, innocent, father-son tone.

That information shook ***han, though in the back of his mind he knew it was the truth.
“I believe you,” he said, surprising himself as much as Timier.

“Y-You do? Wow, I thought I’d have to convince you,” Timier proclaimed laughingly.

So he filled Kashan in on what had happened the last 32 years, telling him about the discovery of Ancient Magicks, the Barrows, and the new dragon equipment that had been designed.

19-Sep-2006 23:13:12 - Last edited on 19-Sep-2006 23:17:18 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

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Yet at the mention of dragon equipment, Timier started on another subject. “Just one thing though. Dragon claws haven’t been made. The metal can’t sustain that form for long; the blades have to be thin, and dragon-metal only does well when it’s thick.”

After Kashan had asked him all the questions he could think of, they had some dinner. Timier disappeared for a few minutes, returning with a brace of rabbits and a pair of canteens full of pure water. Apparently, there was a spring nearby. After the rabbits were eaten and their stomachs were full, they talked for a while before turning in for the night,

“What’s the deal with the robes? You always wanted to be a knight of Ardougne.” Kashan asked, barely managing to suppress a laugh.

“Well, that dream went down the river when I was 12, finally old enough to apply for training for knighthood; dad HAD to tell me then.” He said, laughing as well. Yet his face turned sad for a moment at the mention of his father.

“What is it?” Kashan asked fearfully. “Did something happen to dad?”

Timier hung his head, staring at the ground. “Dad… *and* mom… are both dead. It was just old age… but still.”

Kashan buried his face in his hands, trying to accept the fact that he would never see his parents again. It was hard to come all the way to the future, only to realize that everyone dear to you was gone. Yet as Timier continued, Kashan forgot his emotions in a flood of curiosity.

“For a couple of years I was lost, had no dream or goal. I became another hooligan in the neighborhood. Kolodion was very good to me during that time, my best friend, really; we still keep in touch. But when I was fourteen, I saw the light: the path of Armadyl.

“An Armadylist monk came into Edgeville to convert people, but nobody paid any heed to his teachings except for me. He took me to an Armadyl temple in the Seer*s Village near Camelot, with the permission of mom and dad, of course.

19-Sep-2006 23:13:13 - Last edited on 19-Sep-2006 23:17:39 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

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There he taught me the art that is healing magic and summoning. I learned fast, and quickly I became worthy of learning combat spells. However, Armadylist beliefs allow only devoted followers of Armadyl able to learn combat spells, so they don’t get corrupted by the power and turn Zamorakian, or worse; Zarosian.

“Anyway, long story short I was very apt in them too, even broke the Edgeville record, and cast my first fire bolt only 14, though I didn’t torch any cats.”

Timier smiled as he drank some water, waiting for Kashan to reply.

“Wow, and I thought it was cool when Ellya cast fire bolt for the first time,” Kashan said, smiling, happy that he was talking to his *little’ brother again, even though his once ten-year-old brother was suddenly twenty two years older than he was.

*What are you doing in the Wilderness, anyways? I thought Armadylists stayed away from this place like… well, Armadylists and the Wilderness.”

“Yes, well, remember how I said I still kept in touch with Kolodion? He turned out as a battle mage, and constructed a mage arena of sorts. It’s to the west of here, only an hour’s walk away. It’* extraordinary how he keeps his blood**** second when speaking with me, given he’s Zamorakian.”

“A battle mage? What were you doing there if he’s a battle mage?” Kashan asked, rather surprised; he had always thought, and was told, healers, or peace-mages, and battle mages couldn’t get along because of their differences, or even be in the same room together.

“One of peace and one of war, each may learn their weakness from the other,” Timier chanted. “This is a line from an ancient elf poem depicting the epic tale of two mages, one a battle mage and one a healer. Together they single-handedly protected the elf city Prifddinas from the invaders of the east, ensuring the elves’ continued existence.”

They talked for a long time into the night, before they decided to go to Edgeville.

19-Sep-2006 23:13:13 - Last edited on 19-Sep-2006 23:18:02 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

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“We better go to sleep now, then. We got a long day ahead of us tomorrow,” Timier said; taking strange joy in being wiser than his brother was.

He had no idea how right he was.

End of Chapter 2

19-Sep-2006 23:13:20 - Last edited on 19-Sep-2006 23:18:15 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

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Chapter 3 - The Fremennik*

When Timier awoke from his deep sleep, he couldn’t see Kashan anywhere. Worried, he jumped up, grabbed his staff and some runes, and started looking for him, but just as he was leaving their campsite, he found that Kashan was right behind him.

“Where are you going Timier?” he asked in a puzzled and tone of voice.

“Oh thank Armadyl, I was so worried; where were you?” Timier asked in a concerned voice.

“I was just chopping down some wood, thought it might be helpful. I’ve been up since six and was bored out of my mind. Want some breakfast?” he asked as he handed Timier some hard travel bread. “I got it out of your bag, hope you don’t mind.”

Timier wordlessly accepted the bread, and after he had eaten, he took together the campsite, produced a small strap-on shield from his bag, and offered it to Kashan.

“You probably need it more then I do,” he said as he passed it to him.

“You ready? If we get going now we can reach Edgeville by noon, we’ll be in there in time for the ranging competition.” Timier said as he put out the fire.

The ranging competition was a contest held in Edgeville yearly, at the carnival. It was a simple game of hitting the bulls-eye, but the people of Edgeville took it very seriously, and it was the main event every year. There was usually a prize offered as well, from coins to a handmade bow.

“Noon? I would have thought we could be there around evening at best* it*s a long walk from all the way up here.”

“Not if we use the Teleport Portals,” Timier replied casually. Seeing the puzzled look on Kashan’s face, he remembered that he knew nothing of the new discovery. “Oh, I forgot. They were only discovered about a year ago, of course you know nothing of them!

“The Teleport Portals were designed in the 3rd age, made to transport Zamorakian troops from certain points in the Wilderness to another.

19-Sep-2006 23:15:11 - Last edited on 19-Sep-2006 23:18:52 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

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It allowed quick movements of armies throughout the Wilderness, so surprise attacks would come completely without warning,” he recited, almost as if he had a book in front of him.

Yet even Timier’s words couldn’t get Kashan to grasp the idea. So when they reached the Portal, Kashan stood it awe. It was huge! The portal could easily hold at least 500 men, without even crowding.

“Well, here we are, now it’s just an hour’s walk into Edgeville,” Timier said smiling at the sight of Kashan walking around in the Portal, looking up and down while rotating around to see as much as he could.

Timier pushed a big stone tile on one of the Portal’s pillars, and a purple orb appeared within a small chamber on each pillar. Five seconds later the orbs were gone.

“What happens now?* asked Kashan. “We don’t seem to be moving…”

That was when it happened.

Purple lines rose up from the center of the portal, spiraling up into the air and carrying the two in their currents. Kashan was surprised and not a little scared; teleportation had never been like this before.

As the purple lines finally receded, Kashan realized that this was not the best place to come out.

Two mages stood on a hill, each wearing robes of the same type as Timier’*, but they were black and red instead of white and gold. They each held a staff of earth, and wore a Farseer helm on their heads. With them were three archers wearing full black dragonhide, some of the hardest material in Gielinor to obtain.

19-Sep-2006 23:15:12 - Last edited on 19-Sep-2006 23:19:11 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

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Each of them held a strange bow, made of what looked like yew but with reflexed limbs and strange runes on the arrow rest.

Directly in front of the portal stood twenty warriors, all armored in Runite, and wearing strange, horned helmets. They wielded a great variety of weapons, from a sharp and deadly longsword, to a gigantic, double-edged greataxe.

Timier leaned over to speak in Kashan’s ear. “I recognize their helmets; these are the warriors of the Rellekkan Fremennik clan. Their strength and skill with the blade is legendary, they’re not to be trifled with. And the mages look to be from the Moon Clan; some of the most powerful magic users to walk the earth.”

The leader of the warriors roared, lunging forwards with his greataxe. Kashan barely managed to dodge in time, but then had to duck as a volley of fire spells and arrows whistled over his head. Even moving at that speed, Kashan took an arrow in his right calf. The wound burned, but it wasn’t mortal.

Timier ran desperately for the tile, trying to teleport to a safer location. Yet one of the rangers saw him, and landed an arrow in the center of the teleportation tile. It shattered, and they were forced to fight.

As Timier turner around, preparing a summoning spell, he saw a sight he hadn’t thought he’d ever get to see. Kashan was fighting, and very well at that. Already two Fremennik* were lying on the ground dead, one with three large gashes in his chest, going through his heart, and one with a broken neck. Kashan was twirling through their ranks as if gravity had no control over him, slashing anyone foolish enough to be in range.

Timier finally snapped out of his daze as an arrow came flying a mere inch from his face, and he started summoning some wolves, though he didn’t expect them to be needed for anything else then to block the Fremennik*’ retreat.

~~~~

19-Sep-2006 23:15:13 - Last edited on 19-Sep-2006 23:19:31 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

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The battleaxe seemed to be in slow motion at in came at him, and Kashan slapped it aside with the palm of his outstretched hand. He ducked a vicious slice from a longsword, then rammed his claws through a man’s unprotected face. Blood and shards of bone landed on him, and the man stopped dead with three blades stuck through his jaw.

The Fremennik warriors were desperate, trying to counter the flurry of blows that Kashan was raining on them. Yet they started falling quickly, blood and bodies falling to the soft ground. Kashan was a whirlwind of destruction, too quick to be so much as scratched by these heavily clad warriors.

He realized that the arrow he had been shot with remained in his calf, stinging, but not all that painful. He put the edge of his claws to it, slicing the shaft near the head. Now at least it wouldn’t stick out as much.

As Kashan fought, he realized a strange and frightening fact: he wasn’t the one who truly fought this battle. His body moved as if by reflex, reacting instantly to any attack his enemies threw at him. Arrows and spells whistled by to strike the warriors, swords and axes missed time and time again. He was hitting every time, mortally wounding whoever had the misfortune to stand in front of him. Yet he never actually thought about doing any of it.

Then he saw the wolves.

There were at least two dozens of them, white as fresh-fallen snow and deadly as a knife to the throat. They tore into the remaining warriors, who were already having enough trouble dispatching Kashan. Yet as he watched, one of the archers raised his bow and noc*ed an arrow. It glowed a pearly white, and then was released into the air.

But not at him.

It sailed over the battlefield, striking Timier in the center of his chest. It didn’t penetrate the robes, but that white glow transferred over instead. Timier gripped his chest and groaned, wolves disappearing as he leaned on his staff for support.

19-Sep-2006 23:15:14 - Last edited on 19-Sep-2006 23:19:44 by [#80N8R0VWZ]

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