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Clash of the Incarnations

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Part 2: Darkness Falls

Chapter Six: The Legend of the Sinthigians


The sun crept slowly into the sky over the trees, bringing a new day to Gielinor. One boy lay on a small hill watching the light of the sun peek into the dark sky of night, knowing that its warm rays could not even pierce the cold dark cloud that gripped him. Daigan rose slowly, feeling the exhaustion in his body. Another restless night had passed him in these woods.

Daigan leaned against a nearby oak tree, watching the orange-painted sky of the early morning. Not content with plaguing only his night, the memory of Randall Malden once again beat away within his mind, the horrors of the boy's death at his hands twisting their shadowy fingers around his soul. His apathetic eyes lowered to the horizon, where the orange ball of light rose for the day. The dark towers of a city's silhouette lay on the horizon, centered in the rising sun. "Varrock," he muttered, mindful of the great center of Misthalin that lay before him. He turned back and looked back through the trees toward the campsite. The Sage should be waking any time now.

Daigan walked down from the hillside toward the camp. He reached the foot of the hill, where a small creek ran along the base of the hill. Daigan knelt beside the creek, splashing water into his face. He looked down into the calm water, seeing the reflection of his bloodshot eyes looking back at him. All thanks to his recent insomnia.

"Ah, you're awake!" came a voice from nearby. Daigan quickly looked up to see Zharoun walking down to the creek. The Sage of Trollweiss was wearing his white robes and purple coat, with an ancient rune in white on his back. His silver hair cascaded down his shoulders all the way to his back, swishing slightly as he made his way down to the creek.

Daigan nodded slightly, just enough to acknowledge the Sage's remark. Zharoun splashed water into his own face, waking himself up for the morning.

03-Feb-2011 19:59:25

[#5AGSIZET9]

[#5AGSIZET9]

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“We need to head out soon,” Zharoun said, making conversation. “These woods won’t be safe for long.”

“And you believe taking me into Varrock is safe?” asked Daigan, critical of the Sage’s plan. “Surely they are aware of my status there.”

The Sage nodded grimly. “I know. However, I do not think anyone will recognize you.”

Daigan rolled his eyes, walking away from the Sage and back toward the camp. If he ended up at the gallows, he would come back and haunt Zharoun for that assurance.

Zharoun was right behind him. “Trust me, Daigan. You will be perfectly safe.”

“Why must you enter Varrock in the first place?” Daigan returned.

“My trail has run cold,” the Sage replied. “I need to meet with a contact of mine to discuss my next location.”

“You still refuse to tell me what you are searching for?”

“For now, yes.”

Daigan frowned. The Sage was a mysterious character. When Artemis and he stumbled upon Zharoun, the old man had already been wandering Gielinor for decades in search of something. Daigan could not discover what it was, but it consumed the Sage more than anything else.

“Well then, let’s go!” said Zharoun, who had been funneling what little the pair had into a small knapsack. “This trip will be good for us; we are dangerously low on supplies.”

Daigan nodded. He hoisted his own pack over his shoulder and followed alongside Zharoun. They walked down the path toward the city walls of Varrock. Though the city looked very close on the horizon, it was midday by the time they finally came upon its western gate. The tall granite walls rose to the sky before them, obscuring the massive city within.

“It is incredible,” Daigan remarked, and Zharoun smiled.

“I have seen many great cities in my day. From Ak’Namozk to Yanille and even Varrock, the first time you lay eyes upon such a place is a remarkable moment.”

03-Feb-2011 20:00:01

[#5AGSIZET9]

[#5AGSIZET9]

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Daigan looked ahead to where the soldiers stood guard by the entryway, eyeing every person that walked through into Varrock.

“Sage,” he whispered, the anxiety setting in. “Perhaps I should not attempt to enter the city.”

“Calm yourself, Daigan,” Zharoun replied. “Trust me when I tell you, these soldiers will notice nothing.”

Daigan looked up into the Sage's blue eyes. They were vivid blue, and there was something in how sharp they were that made him trust the Sage entirely. The old man knew what he was doing.

The pair walked through the mouth of the gate, passing right beside the guards. Daigan looked up at them, seeing that they were looking him and Zharoun up and down, searching for the slightest hint that they should jump into action. He felt constricted, as if the world was closing in around him as the guard watched. Daigan felt his breath return as the guard turned his head to look at the next group entering from the road. They were in.

Daigan kept pace with Zharoun as they entered the crowded street of Varrock. "You were right," Daigan remarked. "How did you know that news of me hadn't reached here yet?"

"Oh, news of you has definitely reached here," was Zharoun's reply. When Daigan looked back at him with a look of confusion, Zharoun nodded his head toward a nearby wall. Daigan looked and saw of sketch of him hanging there. His face was on a wanted poster.

*aigan inched closer to examine the sketch. He was wanted for murder; and all the guards knew it, and they would be right behind him to take him to the gallows. Daigan turned back to the Sage, who had stopped to wait on him. "You knew this? Was it only by dumb luck that I made it in here?" he demanded, angry at the Sage for risking his life like this.

"You were in no danger," Zharoun replied. "I protected you with a spell."

"A spell?"

03-Feb-2011 20:00:32

[#5AGSIZET9]

[#5AGSIZET9]

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"Yes," the Sage responded. "Your face has remained the same, but I surrounded you with an aura. It is a special aura called an Amnosa. Anyone that looks at your face is stricken by the spell, and they forget, for just that moment, a great many things. It is as if they are in a haze for a split second, though they feel nothing and regain their memory the moment their gaze leaves you. They could not recognize you because, thanks to my spell, they cannot see you and remember you at the same time. In addition, my spell has a lingering side effect that the encounter will not allow them to make the connection for a brief period. We probably have three days until someone sees a poster and remembers a shadow of you walking through Varrock. By then, we will be gone."

Daigan pressed his hand against his face, unable to feel the aura that was floating around him, concealing him from view. "Such a powerful spell," he remarked.

"Yes," Zharoun replied. "But it has its limits. That is why we need to get you out of sight as quickly as possible."

"Limits?"

"My spell can last for up to twelve hours, so time is not an issue. However, the Amnosa is a very weak aura, designed so that normal people cannot sense it. That means that, inherently, it cannot work on people that are trained in magic."

"So they can recognize me?" Daigan asked, a slight jolt of panic shaking his bones.

"Yes, they can. I knew that the guards would be fooled, but we must not risk a random magician passing by and recognizing you. Let us go find an inn. You will be safe there."

03-Feb-2011 20:00:58

[#5AGSIZET9]

[#5AGSIZET9]

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Daigan nodded. As they turned to leave, he glanced back at the wall. His poster was there, and there was also another. He read, "James Spencer, wanted for the theft of a prized heirloom, the murder of a dozen men, and desertion from the ranks of His Majesty." Daigan looked at the man's sketch, which depicted him as a clean-shaven man with a gaunt face and vivid eyes, drawn dark by the artist. Daigan wondered what had happened to that man. Wherever he was now, the two of them were in the same boat.

Zharoun led Daigan away, and the boy broke his gaze upon his poster. One day, he would clear his name, Daigan hoped. However, he felt an immense disappointment inside as he realized that he probably never would.

------------------------------

Daigan lay on his side on the small bed in the cramped room, staring at the wall in front of him. The inn room was very small, but it was safe. Zharoun had left several hours before to take care of whatever business had brought them to this city. "You must not leave this room, Daigan," the old sage had said. "Remain here, and I will be back later."

Daigan pressed his hand to his forehead, again trying to feel the Sage's spell. Zharoun had told him that no normal person would be able to sense him, but he seemed on edge that a magical person would cross his path. What had the Sage so scared?

03-Feb-2011 20:01:44

[#5AGSIZET9]

[#5AGSIZET9]

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The daylight crept in through a window that was almost closed the entire way. There was just a small strip visible, and the light that shone through it was a breath of fresh air to Daigan, who languished in the dark, tiny chamber. The boy's unfocused eyes continued to stare at the wall, but as the cloud of shapes and colors passed in front of his eyes, they always came together to form one image. A beautiful young girl with flowing red hair and tight green clothing. He saw Artemis only; however, it was not the image he wanted to see. All he could envision was her look of betrayal and hurt, the angry face she flashed him when she saw his true self.

Artemis's contempt only served to depress Daigan further. He closed his eyes, allowing darkness to drown his image. As the darkness consumed Artemis's face, the image morphed, and the cold, dead face of Randall Malden swam before his eyes. Daigan shot up quickly, sitting up in bed. He felt an immense sadness that he would never be free of these visions.

Daigan got to his feet and went to the window. He threw the shutters open, allowing the light of the early afternoon to fill the room. He could no longer stand remaining in the darkness.

Daigan looked down to the street below him, where a few people walked about their daily business. Zharoun had chosen an inn far off the beaten path, so the street was not as packed as a major street would be. All in the effort to keep Daigan out of sight as much as possible.

A woman passed by on the street below, grabbing the hand of her young son as he walked beside her. Daigan felt a pain in his heart as he thought of his own parents, sitting at home, knowing nothing about him except that he had not yet been captured. Hold tightly to your son, Daigan prayed to the woman, hoping that she could evade the heartache of his own mother.

03-Feb-2011 20:02:34

[#5AGSIZET9]

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Suddenly, a movement caught Daigan's eye. He saw a man dressed in plain clothes but a black bandana tied as a mask on his face moving quickly down the street. His path led him right to another man, who was looking the other way.

Daigan could only watch as the thief grabbed the unsuspecting man and threw him to the ground, pinning him to the cobblestone streets under his boot. The man called for help, but Daigan saw no one nearby. The woman had seen, but she had taken her son and run away. Daigan looked back to the fallen man, and he saw that the thief was taking whatever he could find.

Daigan turned away from the window and ran for the door. His hand was a mere inch away from the **** when he remembered the Sage's strict orders: Daigan must not leave the room. He remembered his situation, that leaving the room risked his very life, for if he were to be captured...

"I'm sorry, Zharoun," Daigan muttered, as the sight of that victim outside overpowered any fear for his own safety. He threw open the door and was going down the stairs in a flash. He rushed out the inn's front door and into the street outside. The thief was still rummaging through the fallen man's pockets.

Daigan yelled out, "Hey!" as he charged toward the scene. He saw the glint of a metal dagger in the thief's hand, and instinctively pulled out his own dagger as he approached.

The thief saw that Daigan was armed, and he bolted, leaving the man still lying on the cold ground. Daigan stopped by the man, letting the thief vanish into the back alleys of Varrock.

"Are you alright?" asked Daigan as he knelt beside the man.

The man got back to his feet, showing only minor injuries. "Yes, I am fine, thanks to you," the man replied.

"He got away," Daigan scowled, looking off in the direction that the thief had gone.

"It is fine," the man replied. "He managed to take only a small amount of coins from me."

03-Feb-2011 20:06:52 - Last edited on 03-Feb-2011 20:08:11 by [#5AGSIZET9]

[#5AGSIZET9]

[#5AGSIZET9]

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Daigan examined the man. He was a middle-aged man with big spectacles and a balding head. However, he wore somewhat expensive-looking clothing, which was probably what attracted the thief to him in the first place. The man patted his pocket, feeling something inside, and suddenly his face showed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, sir," he said, beaming at Daigan.

Daigan nodded stiffly. He finally came to the reality of his situation. Now that the man was safe, he needed to get back inside and out of sight as soon as possible.

"Please, allow me to invite you to my home for the afternoon," the man said.

"No, it's fine," Daigan replied. This was the worst thing that could happen.

"I wouldn't impose, but it is more than just thanking you. Please, I am not a very strong person. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if that thief was simply waiting for me further along the road. I am carrying something that really must be kept safe. I would pay you for your trouble, if you would just accompany me back to my home."

Daigan scowled internally, allowing no hint of his negative emotion to creep onto his face. He could not allow himself to leave the man at the thief's mercy. He was fascinated by this reaction: perhaps Zharoun was right, and deep down he was a good person.

He nodded, and the man smiled. "Great, thank you! I simply must get this back safely," he said, patting his pocket. The two began walking down the road, at the man's prompt. "By the way, what was your name, son?"

Daigan froze. He was protected by the Sage' spell in his appearance, but he could not give away his name. His mind raced, trying to think of a name. "I'm... I'm Alaric," Daigan replied, using his father's name.

"Ah, Alaric!" the man replied, slightly scaring Daigan. Could this man possibly know his father? "Named for the old Zarosian governor of Paddewwa, correct?" the man finished. Daigan breathed a sigh of relief.

03-Mar-2011 01:31:49

[#5AGSIZET9]

[#5AGSIZET9]

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"Yes, I suppose so," he replied. "I know very little of that kind of history."

The man grinned. "Sorry about that; not many people know as much about all that as I do. I'm Reldo Trimmly III," he said. "I'm the Varrock Librarian!"

"A librarian?"

Reldo nodded. "My family has been in charge of the Varrock library for generations, ever since my grandfather worked here for King Roald."

Daigan examined the man, wondering what someone like him could be carrying that was so valuable.

"Thank you for doing this, Alaric," Reldo said, bringing Daigan back to the situation. "I'm terribly sorry, but I think you are very kind for helping out an old stranger like me."

Daigan shook his head. "It is nothing," he replied. Internally, however, his mind was racing. What had he done?

The two wound their way through the streets of Varrock, Daigan keeping watch out for anyone that might attack Reldo. If he was risking his freedom and life for this man, he was not going to let anything happen to him, that was certain. Soon, however, Daigan noticed that they were coming upon the large Palace in the northern section of the city.

Sure enough, the pair eventually found themselves standing in front of the gates of the Palace. Daigan saw that Reldo had every intention of entering the Palace.

"Do you live inside the castle?" Daigan asked, and Reldo shot him a confused look.

"Of course I do," he replied. "The library is inside."

Daigan instantly recoiled. "I've led you far enough, is that right?" he asked.

Reldo looked back blankly. "Please, you must allow me to make you a cup of tea at least."

Daigan stopped, his mind racing. Reldo suspected him. To refuse would be to raise suspicion. However, to enter the palace could be suicide. Daigan had allowed himself to be dragged too far into this situation. Finally, Daigan nodded, his body feeling numb.

"Good!" exclaimed Reldo with a smile.

03-Mar-2011 01:32:20

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