RuneScape Forum Archive | -= Entombed In Crystal =-

Wet Rainbow

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Kaitlyn only smiled weakly. “No one will heal me. There is one more person she said, one more person I must tell. And then - and then that will be the end of it.”

“Who - who’s she?” Sage asked.

“The portal.” Kaitlyn mouthed.

“Krystal?” Sage asked, but Kaitlyn did*’t answer.

Something seemed to eddie across Sage’s vision, rippling nauseatingly. ‘She can’t be back’, he thought. But though the thought of her return terrified him, it also aroused a yearning that he had believed long-dead. She can’t be...

Sage bent over the bed as though to shake the patient again, but Rute reached down and staid his hands. “Let her rest,” Rute said. “Is there anything you can do for her?”

“****.” Sage’s hands trembled as he lifted them away. “Goddam.”

“Sage?”

Sage stared blankly at Kaitlyn before remembering why he was there. Quickly, he knelt down and uncovered Kaitlyn’s shoulders, placing his hands upon them as though in benediction. Sage closed his eyes and, calming himself, drew upon the Sa. A second later he drew back in shock.

“What is it?” Rute asked.

“She - she’s dead.” Sage gasped. He had drawn in the magic to heal Kaitlyn but there had been nothing, no life, only a malign emptiness inside the body that lay on the bed.

“But she’s breathing...”

“Dead...” Sage glanced around in abject terror. “She’s dead.” He noticed some of the other druids had gathered around, then turned and broke through the crowd, running for the door. He had to escape, to where he did not know.

~~~

30-Jun-2008 16:45:16 - Last edited on 30-Jun-2008 21:15:20 by Wet Rainbow

Wet Rainbow

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‘Blackguard,’ Mort thought at once. But there was something odd about the person behind him that he could not place. His breath trembled against her slender fingers. Then he realized what it was. Every person he had met so far had had a smell, a scent: Sage’s mustiness, Tam’s sweaty eagerness, even the blackguard they’d passed on the druid path had smelt of smoke and ale. This person had none. Mort inhaled the clean emptiness of her fingers.

“Where is she?* the voice hissed.

*Buo?” Mort mumbled. The person removed their hand from his mouth but kept the blade against his jugular. Mort swallowed and felt the metal scrape his Zam’s apple.

“Whisper,” the voice said.

“Who?” he repeated.

“Don’t play with me. You know who. Her. The white queen.”

A flash of white. A woman beneath a tree, stroking a wolf. Sea-blue eyes looking up, meeting his. “Mort.” The voice was not the white-woman’s soft, melancholy tone, but a sharper one from behind. “Where is she? Who is she? I need to know.” He realized the blade at his throat was trembling, the woman behind him was shaking.

“I - I don’t know,” he said. This is all a dream, Mort thought. Another nightmare like the druid circle. But if it was, it was a very realistic one. Where do you choose the point, he wondered, between dream and reality? “Do you know her?” he asked, feeling like he was floating in the gentle downpour.

“Kno - know? You don’t know? I - I thought.” He heard the desperate edge to her voice.

“I don’t. Do you?”

“No, I don’t.” And, suddenly, miraculously, the dagger was gone. Mort inhaled deeply, but did*’t dare turn.

“Who are you?” he asked. “Maybe we can find her together.”

“I’m no one,” she whispered. “No thing. You knew her once, Mort. But then - they did something to you in that cell, did*’t they? In the dark...You know of who I talk though, right? You’ve seen her? The woman dressed in white? She calls to you.”

30-Jun-2008 16:45:21 - Last edited on 30-Jun-2008 21:15:49 by Wet Rainbow

Wet Rainbow

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Mort nodded, feeling a tightening in the small of his back. At any moment the dagger could pierce him...

“Then maybe you will know again...” There was a long silence, and Mort, feeling suddenly alone, was about to turn when she spoke once more. “Forget this ever happened.” The last words faded into the drip of water and a funny warm feeling took hold of Mort, as though excess blood were being pumped to every part of his body. He tried to look around, but saw only rain and the white of a nearby domi and then steam, rising off his clothes. Looking made his head spin and he became warmer and suddenly realized that the steam was forming patterns around him, symbols that danced and spun. He tried to read them, make sense of them, but then he was falling and he couldn’t make sense of that. Mort passed out before he hit the ground.

~~~

30-Jun-2008 16:45:25 - Last edited on 30-Jun-2008 21:16:10 by Wet Rainbow

Wet Rainbow

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Sage found himself sitting on a bench in a dark place. It was a comfortable dark place. Above him, trees rustled. Below him, some small creature scampered through fallen leaves. Rain from the brief shower that had just abated hung, crystallized, from the boughs, random droplets dripping to the earth. One of the druid parks, he thought. He did*’t remember getting there.

‘How could the portal be open?’ he wondered. It seemed impossible. Beyond impossible. And even if it were open, Krystal would be dead. Many years dead. No one could channel magic inside crystal, that was why drages were made of crystal: it was magically neutral, a barrier. Within the first year she would have wasted away within that transparent prison, a mage forced to face their own mortality. But as illogical as it might seem, the discovery of Kaitlyn in the mountains provided strong evidence of Krystal still being alive after what...ten years of imprisonment? Sage shuddered at the thought of Kaitlyn’s corpse. She had been brought back to life somehow, reanimated... made undead. Only a strong mage could do that. And what did it mean if Krystal had somehow survived and escaped? The mage wars again? No, more than that...

It meant...it meant...

Sage suddenly became aware that he was not alone. He looked up to see another druid, her white robes eerily out of place in the shadowed grove, standing like some woodland sprite before him. Smooth hair flowed down around a slender face that looked almost elfish; her eyes glowed white in the dimness. Her stature demanded the attention that her position as druid leader warranted.

“Cad -” Sage said, surprised. “How did you -” find me, he had been about to ask. But he already knew the answer. Lumin, his light familiar, confirmed his suspicion by whispering ‘I told her’ into Sage’s ear. He had summoned the elemental twice on the trek over here, but had forgotten that it was a sentient spirit.

30-Jun-2008 16:45:29 - Last edited on 30-Jun-2008 21:16:32 by Wet Rainbow

Wet Rainbow

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Of course it would have sent for help after sensing Sage’s distressed thoughts.

“Lumin found me,” Cadantine answered before he finished. “I have to talk to you about your absence.” She sat down next to Sage and put a hand on his shoulder. “You have to leave.”

It was a surprise to hear what he had been thinking put so plainly. Of course he had to leave. He had to check to make sure the portal was open; that was the place to begin, the only place to begin. And if it was...well that still seemed impossible. And it would remain impossible until proven otherwise. Most likely he was blowing everything out of proportion; most likely the other mages still sat guard outside the crystal door, but he had to make sure.

“I know,” he said.

“You have to leave tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Tonight. The blackguard are looking for you.”

Sage blinked. He had forgotten about the blackguard. “They’re looking for me?”

“They’re looking for the boy you brought into the city.”

“How did - how do you know about him?”

Cadantine lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t think I know what goes on in my borough?”

“Tamarak -” Sage muttered, realization striking him. The **** snitch.

Cadantine ignored him. “You brought a criminal into my town, Sage.” Her voice was ice. “That’s a direct violation of the Taverly charter. I want him out before the blackguard become violent. They brought seekers with them, rocs, shades...” Sage began to say something, but Cadantine cut him off. “I’ve let you off before, Sage, I’ve kept your magic secret, but not this time. When you endanger MY town and MY people by harboring YOUR fugitives then you’ve taken this wizarding game one gaffe too far. I’m giving you the chance to leave now: tonight. Take the passes. The blackguard are already guarding many of them, but last I knew those by Guthix falls were still open.” Her eyes flashed bone-white. “Get out now and pray to Sara that the snow is not heavy enough to make the mountains impassible. Come tomorrow I will turn you in.”

30-Jun-2008 16:45:33 - Last edited on 30-Jun-2008 21:16:49 by Wet Rainbow

Wet Rainbow

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Sage sat, speechless in the wake of this cold fury he had never before seen in Cadantine. “The portal,” he began, but realized Cadantine would not understand any of it. “Kaitlyn - the boy.” The boy, Sage suddenly remembered, was all alone in his domi. All alone with seekers roaming the city. And if Krystal really were alive, perhaps the boy was his only chance, his only hope.

Cadantine watched him, expression unreadable.

“The boy!” Sage said, “I have to find him.”

“And then you’ll leave?”

Sage nodded and Cadantine extended a hand down to help him up. “Then I’ll help,” she said.

~~~

30-Jun-2008 16:45:37 - Last edited on 30-Jun-2008 21:17:22 by Wet Rainbow

Wet Rainbow

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There was darkness. A darkness so severe Mort thought he had gone blind. He was lying on cold stone. Nearby, someone whimpered. It was a wretched, pitiful sound rising through the blackness like a cat** yowl. It made Mort’s hair stand on end.

“Yer’ve learned yer lesson?” A deep voice rumbled.

“Y-yes,” the other sobbed.

“Next time I’ll use both blades.”

“I - I won’t. Not again.”

“Good.” A door creaked open, then shut. Footsteps receded down an unseen hallway. Then the mewling whimpers were all that remained. It sounded inhuman, animal. Mort covered his ears with both hands and concentrated on the feeling of rough stone against his back. Where was he? he wondered. A vague sense of deja vu filled him. It took Mort a few minutes to realize the sounds had changed. The person was no longer whining. He was singing. His voice was strained and hoarse.

“...Saradomin took our eyes
Guthix took our tongue
They shut us up far from the skies
And further from the sun

But then they did not realize
A reckoning must come
For all their subterfuge and lies
For all the deeds they’d done

One day we’d open rotting eyes
And peel back earth from pitch-black skies
And claw our way out from the flies
Oh yes!
One day we’d rise.”

There was a giggle and then a watery hiccough that soon became a bout of wet retching and coughing. ‘I’m dreaming,’ Mort thought. ‘I’ve had this dream before.’

“Hello?” Mort asked. His voice quavered.

The coughing stopped. *** hoo! Awake now, are you?”

“No, I’m asleep.”

“But then how can he talk?” it giggled.

“I’m asleep. I’m dreaming this. I’m dreaming you. You’re not real.”

“Not real? Ooh, don’t let Sent hear you say that. He real. He give you a real battering.” The voice laughed. “Batter, what we wouldn’t give for some good batter...oh, my eyes.”

30-Jun-2008 16:45:42 - Last edited on 30-Jun-2008 21:17:54 by Wet Rainbow

Wet Rainbow

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Mort’s stomach churned, but he thought it had more to do with the smell of ***** and feces coming from nearby as the thought of hunger. “I’m imagining you,” he said. He got up and felt for the stone wall he knew to be there. It was.

“Hee hee. Imagine me? On the contrary, I imagine me imagining thee. Imagine me a window, please. I could use some fresh air.” The footsteps came near again. “Sent! Sent!” the voice called.

“What you gabbing about now?” The gruff voice asked, irritated. “Better be important.”

“Guy next door, he back again.”

“Guy next door?”

“Yeah, the kid. Oohoo, he crazy.”

“There’s no one in that cell.”

“No, I swear! You look. Oohoo he get it.” A door opened, but it was not Mort’s door. “No! Other cell, other cell!”

“Shut your hole.” The ring of a drawn blade, but Mort was fading...fading...

...into sunlight. The woman in white stood next to him, tendrils of hair billowing out behind her as though alive. “Remember this,” she said.

They stood on a hill. Before them stretched a plain, and on that plain armies fought. One wore white armor, the other a mix of green and gray. Wind whipped around Mort as he watched. Giants, half-spawns and other aberrations lumbered with the darker side, crushing men to pulp with granite warhammers. Wolves ran between the troops, lunging for necks, freakish jaws snapping. Mort felt a yearning to do the same, saliva built up in his mouth as he watched one canine behemoth rip a man’s throat out in a burst of red and gristle. His belly strained with hunger.

‘Who are you?’ Mort tried to ask, but no words came out.

“Remember this, Mort,” she said. “It is where paths meet.”

And again there was a fading, a slipping, and when he woke he was back in Taverly, but the hunger remained.

30-Jun-2008 16:45:46 - Last edited on 30-Jun-2008 21:18:13 by Wet Rainbow

Wet Rainbow

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There was fire. He could smell smoke. He could smell human. Rolling sideways, he got to his feet. White buildings loomed on every side. They seemed taller somehow. No fire here. He began to walk, loping along on all fours. It felt so easy; so natural. He began to run, body accordioning outwards, front paws stretching, only to crunch inwards and then extend again a second later. Wind whistled through his fur. Hunger overwhelmed him, a hollowness in the pit of his stomach that ate at his thoughts; controlled them. Flesh...meat, his mouth watered at the thought.

Buildings whipped past, the path became a streak of light beneath his paws. Above, a full moon watched from behind a thin veil of clouds. He could feel its light dragging him, pulling him onwards. And then there was someone: a person in the path. They were walking in front of him, carrying a book beneath one white-robed arm. Mort snarled. They heard the noise, turned, saw him, turned back, tried to run, but Mort was already leaping, powerful muscles propelling him a dozen feet to sink his claws into the person’s back, jaws into the person’s throat. Muscle crunched beneath his bite; vertebrae snapped; blood gushed. Inertia carried them down, the body sliding several yards after it hit the gravel and even after it stopped Mort continued to tear at it, digging inside at the warmth that did nothing to sate his hunger.

Mort only stopped when he noticed a new light. He raised his wet muzzle from the carnage to look. Further down the path black figures with torches were setting fire to buildings. Mort watched one immolated domi shrivel inwards, shedding glowing shards of canvas into the night as the blaze reduced it to ashes. He could hear the black men laughing, rude guffaws that split the night’s sanctified stillness. Stepping gingerly off of the body, Mort crept up the path to investigate.

~~~

30-Jun-2008 16:45:51 - Last edited on 30-Jun-2008 21:18:28 by Wet Rainbow

Wet Rainbow

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“****! *******!” Sage threw a book to the floor. Cadantine watched silently from where she sat on Sage’s bed.

“He’s not here?” She asked.

“No, he’s not.” Sage growled, pacing the room. His light familiar flitted anxiously about his head, draining his energy, but Sage did*’t care at the moment. Where could the boy be? There was no sign of a break-in or any kind of scuffle, so the blackguard hadn’t been here. Seekers? He shuddered at the thought, but it was all too possible.

“Gerrel!” he yelled, rushing to the flap that led to the adjoining domi and ripping it open. “Gerrel?”

The old man blinked up at Sage from where he sat on his bed, a pair of pruning shears in one hand. Gerrel looked as though someone had stuffed a tree into some clothes. His fingers resembled gnarled twigs, and above his druid collar a face with skin wrinkled as bark supported a white beard and hair that sprouted out like moss. Two beady eyes squinted at Sage. “Yes?”

“When did you get back?” Sage asked. He had not expected his old mentor to be here. The man was rarely in nowadays.

“In the nick of time,” Gerrel said, returning to cutting his toenails with the shears. “Hard to find, too. Aren’t too many nicks in time nowadays.”

“Gerrel, have you seen a boy? I mean did you see a boy in my domi? Did he leave?”

“A boy?” Gerrel studied his toes, as though in deep contemplation, then snipped at one. “No. Can’t say I have. But then I’m not in the habit of barging into other people’s domis. I’ve been over here the whole time. A boy, you say?” He raised an eyebrow. “Another one?”

“Another one?” Sage jumped, he had not heard Cadantine come up behind him. She eyed him inquisitively.

“Another...well, no, it doesn’t matter. Gerrel, did you hear anything? I need to know.”

“No, I did*’t.” The old man pruned a few more toes. “But then who can trust an old fool’s ears? There are senses sharper than the auditory.”

30-Jun-2008 16:53:39 - Last edited on 30-Jun-2008 21:18:52 by Wet Rainbow

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