Daniel stood beside Moriah, who was sitting on a bench with her right fist pressed against her right cheek. Her eyes were down, her head filled with thought. Her right leg was bending to her left, topping her left leg, like her legs were crossed. "I can't believe it," she mumbled to herself. "I can't believe it." she repeated.
This continued mumbling took Daniel's attention, his eyes turned to Moriah. "Are you okay, Miss Moriah?" he asked, concerned.
Moriah let out a sigh. "No," she replied, closing her eyes and pressing her other hand against her left cheek. Her face was pointing down, towards her right knee. "Everything's just so-..."
"...Tragic?" answering Daniel, his right hand reached towards Moriah's left shoulder. His hand latched onto her shoulder, taking her attention. Her head pops out from the hole of depression and over to Daniel, her pale bye irises looking toward him. A smile graced his face. "You needn't worry, Miss Moriah. We'll pull through, just like we did from the first ambush."
Moriah sighed, letting out in sorrows. "True, that was a terrible time, wasn't it?"
"Yes, and as we did before, we'll pull through."
"Hey Daniel," said Moriah, curiosity taking over her sorrow. "A question, if I may."
"Sure, what is it?"
"Just who is their master?" she asked. "Tamir, I think his name is."
Daniel sighed, shrugging his shoulders. "We honestly have absolutely no clue," he answered. "We've only been able to hear rumors, but nothing more to whom this Tamir is."
"Well, what are the rumors?"
"He is a corrupt man who believes he controls the gods."
"More like is being controlled by the gods."
"Well, he believes otherwise," Daniel said, shuffling over to sit beside Moriah. "To tell you the truth, I believe the man has control over the minds of his soldiers."
Moriah raised an eyebrow, curious to Daniel's claim. "What makes you assume that, Daniel?"
"The man who...unfortunately assassinated the King and Queen," he replied. Adrian's eyes and face rush into Moriah's head. "When that man walked into this room, he had red irises. While having these red irises, he was murderous, ready to kill Allister even. However, when that young Zamorakian tackled him, he changed. He thanked the Zamorakian for stopping him and retreated. Why retreat when your kill was before you?"
"That's a bit of a leap of faith, don't you think?" she replied, but then remembering what Lelia said to Moriah whiplashed into her head. "Thinking about it, Lelia told me something strange too."
Daniel looked upon Moriah, curious. "What was it?"
"That damn monster who kills, and kills, and kills me until I submit to him." she quoted, remembering the exact sentence letter by letter. "How could one be killed more than once?"
"Hahahaha," taunting a voice out of nowhere, it echoing all over the place. Everybody is startled by this voice, jumping for their arms.
Allister immediately knew who that laugh exited from. His teeth herd together, pressing against each other like the headstrong collision of rams. "TAMIR!" roared Allister, drawing his Saradomin Longsword. His facial expression revealed his anger.
Alena drew her Yew Longbow, pulling back a Steel arrow. The arrow's head was in the shape of a star of Saradomin. "Where is he!?" she questioned, her voice raised.
Daniel bolted up off of his seat, drawing his Steel blade. He readied himself for anything. "Speak of the devil." he said.
Moriah also readied herself to cast any spell, whichever is needed. The man in the hooded cloak drew out his concealed Crystal shortsword. The man with the black dragonhide drew his sheathed Chaotic longsword. And Bart drops his sewing and readies his needles.
Richard remained seated, his feet kicked up on the bench in front of him, his hands behind his head, and his eyes closed. Modello remained emotionless and motionless, much like Richard. He was not startled by the sudden laughter.
"Kingdom of Avdima," said the voice, appearing at the entrance into the castle was a man. A man with jet black hair and a goatee, dark tan skin, wearing a red doublet with red puffed up sleeves. His left arm was concealed by a cloak, tied around that shoulder. Red breeches and long black boots with a black cravat tied around his neck.
His back leaned forward, his right arm moved towards his cloak. "It is a pleasure, I am Tamir Thymos. Ruler of the Kingdom of Iericho." he introduced himself.
Allister glared over to where he heard Tamir's voice. "More like tyrant of Iericho," he replied, his words full of anger. "Why did you slaughter our parents, you hellion?"
Tamir waves his right index finger, opposing Allister's blame. "Oh, but it was not I who slaughtered your beloved father and mother."
Daniel pointed his sword at Tamir. "You lie through your teeth!" he yelled. "That man you sent to assassinate the royal family was an innocent civilian that YOU forced to do your dirty work."
Tamir let out a slight chuckle, but then after a moment, his laughing ceased. "Ah, you know me too well, boy." he commented. "Control is what I desire - and I have it. The gods have fallen under the sway of the green-eyed monster. They envy me, fear me, as I control them. No man has what I do, and no man shall ever."
Moriah's hands lock tight into a fist. "But why? Why all the senseless blood!?" she said, her voice full of an angered sorrow.
"Whether you like it or not," he continued. "You WILL submit to me."
Moriah raised her left fist, shaking it in anger. "Never!"
"I never said you had a choice," Tamir's eyes suddenly glow purple, gleaming like the high-beams of a car's headlights. Moriah suddenly drops onto her knees, she breathed so sharp, not being able to talk or catch breath. Her arms as still as ice and pulling back. Her eyes tightly closed shut and she growls in pain with what little air she had left. Her teeth quickly fasten together.
Her hands sluggishly grasped onto the collar of her shirt, holding onto it tightly. Modello's eyes suddenly poke open, realizing the situation. He quickly grabbed onto the handle of his leaf shaped blade and he jumped to his feet.
His blade in his right hand, regardless of what injury, Modello raced towards Tamir. His footsteps were faster than the heart that beated in his chest. Modello seemed to have just disappeared from where he was once and just suddenly appeared before Tamir before even Tamir knew.
Modello quickly swings his blade at Tamir to stop him, regardless of whatever pain it brought him. Tamir notices Modello at the last second, Modello's blade actually cuts Tamir across the chest, but it was a flesh wound. While Tamir jumped back, his eyes glance upon Modello and noticed something of him. "You...!" gasping Tamir, he sounded surprised. "You should be dead...!
Of course, Modello didn't reply, he just stared up at Tamir with a rather nasty glare. Tamir jumped back away from Modello, landing five feet from him, outside in the rain. Tamir scrolls his eyes down, and saw the open flesh wound on his chest.
A smile masked his face once he gazed upon Modello, his eyes returning to normal. Behind his eyes hides frustration and anger. "Well, well," he said. "You can pass my shield, can you?"
Moriah opened her mouth, drawing breath in as fast as she could. She felt as if she were a fish out of water. Daniel knelled down next to her to check if she was alright. Moriah swallowed down saliva, she feared that her life was nearly lost. She would have died if it weren't for Modello's interference.
Modello glares at Tamir, his emerald green irises looked like he was staring into Tamir's soul. His caviler shielded his head for the pouring rain, as it crashed down hard. Tamir felt the brute force of it, but not really paying attention to it.
"You are Modello Mercer, yes?" asked Tamir.
"Names are nothing but labels," he replied, his voice hard to hear through the rain as he still had the silent voice. "I couldn't care less how you address me."
"You sound just like your father," he replied. "He couldn't care less about anything, but himself. And acquiring that little girl."
"What do you know about my father?"
"A man who obsessed over preparing, and finding a cure for Zin's blight - this 'plague' as you people address it."
"And what of this little girl?"
"She was the foundation of the remedy," he answered. "I'm sure you've already met her."
Modello thinks quick, he remembered encountering a little girl when the plague first came to be. Her pale blue irises gazing helpless upon Modello and Alyssa. The fear that brushed across her face. Her parents that laid lifeless upon the floor. "Yes, I have," he answered. "Why was she involved?"
"She was said to have been given a birth given power to heal the sick and wounded." Tamir folded his hands behind his back. "Moriah Rona." Modello's facial expression doesn't change, but he turned his body to the right. His emerald green irises gazed upon her as she struggled to stand on her own.
Memories of the little girl rush into his mind like a tidal wave. In Modello's head, he compared the two. Their eyes, their face, everything matched. Moriah glances up, seeing the mysterious man in black clothes staring back at him. She had a frozen look of shock written on her face, realizing how absolutely powerful Tamir was.
Modello's emotionless eyes gaze upon the young female mage, exerting all her remaining energy just to stand on her feet. Her right hand grabbed onto the arm of a bench like it was a crutch. Modello turned his body back around, facing Tamir once again. The dark tan skinned man drew inhaled air into his nostrils, inflating his lungs with oxygen. Then the air is exhale out of his lungs and out of his mouth.
"Yes," he said. "That is the one your father tried so desperately to gain. He knew of the return of the two, Zion and Zin, and researched everyday so that he may find the cure. To the best of his luck, he finds his answer. One being in this land was born with an ability to cure the disease of others, including Zin's blight. And fortune favored him, the being with this ability was right around the corner."
"Why tell me this?" he asked. "I couldn't care less whoever the hell my father was."
"Is that so? Whom do you try to make believe that statement?" he questioned. "Myself or yourself?"
"It doesn't matter," he growled, his voice cold and sharp. "What matters is that you must die." Modello readied his blade, charging towards Tamir. His feet smack the ground with force, the many puddles that pool the ground like land with many lakes splatter and shift with each step.
Once close enough, Modello swings his blade at Tamir. The dark tan skinned man disappeared into the air right before Modello's blade could even cut him. Modello notices his enemy had disappeared and halted his blade, stopping it like brakes on a car.
His eyes shuffle, scanning the surrounds all around. The tall glided gates, the many golden statues leading into the castle. Modello scrolled all over them. He suddenly heard Tamir's voice echoing behind him. He spun around, his body now facing the castle.
Tamir appeared, standing between the two thrones, the king and queen's. Allister glared up at Tamir and charged towards him, yelling at his anger. "You tyrant! Your blood shall be spilt upon this day!" he yelled, his voice screaming out his fury.
The prince swings his Saradomin longsword at Tamir, his fury unleashed the clash of lighting against steel. The electricity danced all over his blade. The prince's blade strikes down onto the enemy of the Kingdom of Avdima. But once the blade almost did, about a centimeter from Tamir's head, it stops completely.
Allister grit his teeth in anger. "What sorcery is this?!" yelped the prince.
"Heh heh heh," chuckled Tamir. "Send this as a message to you and all of your kind, your faith has forsaken you, and your god cannot help you now. Submit yourself to me, and your absolution may begin. Defying me will only result in your own self destruction."
"We shall never submit to a transgressor!"
"Then you have sealed your fate..." After those words, Tamir disappeared like the wind. Allister shuffled his head, left and right, scanning the area to find the man. "Where did that man go!?" he growled, quickly shuffling his head to all sides of the castle to find him.
The man wearing an ancient warrior's coif approached the prince. "It's no use," said the man wearing the coif. "Tamir has left."
Allister heard the man and turned around, facing him. His eyes glance upon the man who just spoke. "How do you know?" questioned Allister, curious. "And who are you?"
"I am Lite, former knight of the highest brigade in Avdima." he introduced, then he turned towards his comrade, the man wearing the black hooded cloak and black clothes. He was simply sitting on one of the benches in the second row, silent and minding his own business. "And that's Varon. We know Tamir, this is not the first time we've encountered the man."
"You've encountered Tamir more than once?"
"Yes, we were originally a part of Avdima's highest ranked knights, we've encountered Tamir during that time." Lite crossed his arms, tying them like a pretzel. "We were upgraded just recently to serve as the King and Queen's bodyguards."
"Hmm...I see." But bearing this knowledge gave a question to ask in Allister's mind. "What was it that Tamir did? My blade came close to killing him, but it didn't even make contact with him."
"We have no clue as to why this happens," Lite continued. "All the knights, whenever they swung their blade at Tamir, it just ceased to move before making contact with him. And our archers shoot a thousand arrows, all breaking once they came close to him. All of the magic users, shoot a hundred spells, none even affecting Tamir."
"Hmm...interesting."
Bart sat back down on the bench near Richard, who seemed like he was asleep. The young man gazed upon his doll, Forscythe. He smiled, grabbing his needle and almost finished quilt. "Are you okay?" he asked Forscythe, making sure he was fine.
Of course, the doll remained as silent as a winter night. Bart turned his attention back onto his knitting, weaving his needle in and out of his quilt. "I'm glad to hear that," he comment, relieved. His eyes scroll over to Forscythe and sighed. "I'm fine, don't worry."
Modello steps back into the building. His body moved over to Moriah, his clothes dripping by the droplets that fell onto him. He stopped at least five steps from Moriah. His emerald green irises gaze down emotionless upon her.
She was sitting on a bench, her left hand pressing against her forehead. Her left elbow pressed against the middle of her left thigh. Her pale blue irises glance up, gazing upon Modello. Her head raises up, looking straight at Modello. "Modello," she said. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," he replied, silent as ever. "Are you?"
Moriah seemed a bit shocked, he actually asked if she was okay. Her eyes were bit widened, but then she let out a sigh. Her eyes went down, turning them into empty bowls. "Yeah, I guess..." she mumbled, she didn't seem too certain about that reply. "It's just...I couldn't control it, I couldn't stop it. All this magic I possess, and yet none are useful."
Modello turned his back on Moriah, his body now facing the exit out of the castle. "Just be fortunate you're still alive." Afterwards, his feet get back to moving, walking away from Moriah. She was silent, and quite sad of today's outcome.
Modello's feet finally step into the rain a minute later. He walks out into the rain, stepping closer and closer to the gate that stood between the rich district of the city of Avdima and the kingdom of Avdima. But his feet halted in the middle of the pathway.
His head slowly tilts up at the rain, his face is bombed by bullets and bullets of rain. His feet swim in a small shallow puddle of water. The droplets of water slide down his mask like a park slide, making him look like he was crying. His eyes closed, feeling the rain wash over him.
The End of Chapter 6,
Next Chapter:
Chapter 7: Disembodied Glance
