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I'll be gone for 3 weeks. Proceed with my characters as you will. Don't miss me too much.
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SHADOW ISLE - LAWRENCE'S OFFICE
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Lime nodded, but then stood up tall, almost touching his head to the ceiling.
"I appreciate your effort," he said, "And I understand where you're getting at."
A chill went up Lawrence's spine. He didn't like where this was going.
"But I'm afraid that we just cannot leave." he said, crossing his arms. He spoke it as though a threat.
Darkrascal wasted no time in drawing a sword and pointing it at Lime.
"You're not gonna promise to leave, we're not letting you see Lord Zamorak." she said, "Simple as that."
Lime suddenly snapped.
"IF YOU HAD ANY IDEA-"
He paused, and then immediately restrained himself. Everything around him was flammable, and he didn't want to get on their bad sides. Gotta remember that.
"Sorry about the ceiling. It's gonna come back to me at some point, I know." he apologized, sinking down to his knees, "But at least- … please, at least hear me out. That's all I ask now."
Confusion overcame suspicion. This creature, who was at first a tall, dominant negotiator, suddenly succumbed to oppression. It was bowing down, almost on all fours. If he was to say "no", he didn't doubt the creature would've even started begging and tugging at his pants. As funny as that would be to watch, Lawrence decided that having his pants not on fire was a bit of a higher priority than humiliating an alien creature.
"Fine. I'm listening." Lawrence said, crossing his legs atop his desk. He didn't want to lose this regained feeling of authority.
Lime stood back up. With closed eyes, he forced himself back into remembering his current purpose.
"The four of us." he began, "We are of the Ormra race. Ormra. And we are …"
He hesitated, trying to avoid returning to the cruel reality, but it had to be done.
"We are the last survivors of our race." he said, almost quickly and, oddly enough, embarrassingly.
The two Zamorakian leaders watched as this graceful, proud creature bowed his head and wiped something from its eyes.
"We were once the dominant creatures of our planet. Everything; even the Mahjarrat served under us. We had direct ties with the Gods. Some of us even were Gods in our own right."
He started pacing, remembering positive aspects and historic milestones his race had accomplished.
"On the battlefield, we were glorious. An unstoppable force of flame and wind, which spread through the enemy ranks like a poison. No amount of defences could stop us; we were always right to the leader, evading and bypassing their troops before they even had time to raise their shields. Against each other, we took entire continents to fight; a blaze of fury that lit up the night sky in their own distinct colors."
Lime closed its eyes, looking up at the ceiling.
"I remember it well. The Battle of the Rchavoi. Of course, I was only a thief then, living in the underground streets and ducking under all the commotion, but all I had to do was look up to watch the fight unfold and carry out. The morning after the battle ended, the sky was completely filled with black smoke, blotting out the sun so much that we had three days worth of nights after."
Lawrence and Darkrascal imagined such a battle. Multiple-colored shooting stars shooting across the sky, bouncing off each other and emitting bright flashes of light upon contact.
"Those days are over now." Lime suddenly said, destroying the mood completely, "Just the four of us are left. All the others: dead. Dead due to a simple misunderstanding."
Darkrascal tilted her head, "How is that even possible?"
"Our lord was murdered due to suspicion of something- I DON'T KNOW! HE DID NOTHING! WE DID NOTHING!"
Lime suddenly burst to flame and stormed at Lawrence and Darkrascal.
"WE FOUGHT! WE FOUGHT FOR OUR GOD! WE DIED FOR OUR GOD! WE DID WHAT WE WERE MEANT TO DO! WHAT OUR GOD WANTED US TO DO!"
A second burn-mark complimented the first, and Lime calmed down once again.
"My point is, we're alone now. We are left to resurrect the last sorry remnants of our race. And we cannot do it alone. We cannot do it while isolated on a foreign world, bearing a threat to any creature that fights for survival against dancing flame."
Yet again, Lime changed emotion. He filled himself with resolve and confidence, and spoke strongly while maintaining eye-contact.
"Zamorak. He'll help us. He has to. … no, he'll want to. I'm sure of it. And you're his subordinates. We'll need your help as well."
Lime suddenly phased through the air, shooting right up to Lawrence's face so close he could feel a strong heat resonating from Lime's skin. Darkrascal instinctively jumped back while Lawrence summoned up every ounce of willpower he could to not react.
"And believe me when I say you'll WANT to help us too." he said with confident, glaring eyes.
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SHADOW ISLES - GUARD BARRACKS
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He was tired. And afraid. He stood guard for eight hours, and he was tired. And yet, he couldn't forget all this talk of heroes fighting non-stop for days on end, enduring fatigue to the extent that succumbing to it would result in their immediate death. It only took him eight hours of standing around to tire him out. Would he fare well on the battlefield? Not a chance.
He was given the easy job of standing around, preventing anybody more suspicious than a cloaked shadow from passing while everybody he knew was running errands, sailing on boats, and training for the battles to come. Of course, he trained too. A couple of hours a day, one before the duty and one after. Lately, though, he'd been resorting to two hours before duty, and hitting the sack right after just because it wasn't worth it. He was already tired after the duty, so he wouldn't need to train to immediately pass out on his bunk.
Of course, he couldn't complain. Life as a shadow guard could be worse. He could be having to hold his own right now, fighting back horde after horde of humans. Instead, all he had to do was stand around for eight hours, eat, and sleep. Easy. In fact, spoiled. Give or take a year of this job, he'd become fat, lazy, and incapable. That's why they shifted duties throughout the week. This week, he had the easy one. He was lucky enough to have the easy one.
So he forced himself not to complain, grumble, or yell when he entered his quarters to find his bunk filled with blue, unknown creature, who was napping on its side with one leg crossed over the other and its head in its hand, which was propped up by the elbow to support it. It didn't snore, but it was distinctly asleep and off in its own little world.
"Oh no, my Lord." it was muttering, "The pleasure is all mine. Two cups logoberries, one cup doboratch cream; just the way you like it. … yes, that is chauk-grass I added. Thought you'd like it."
It then began to mutter in its own language for a bit. It was almost a cycle. A few sentences in a language the guard understood, and then a few in its own foreign tongue. Spoken in such a different accent and voice pitch that it felt like something else was talking. As for the things he muttered:
"The sun is awfully bright today. I can only look at it for 20 minutes before it starts to fade. Then it all turns blue, and I cannot see it anymore."
Made no sense whatsoever.
He had been told that, for the moment, they would be playing host to these large, skinny, flame-wielding creatures. He didn't want to doubt Lawrence's decision to harbour them until they could contact Zamorak, but the majority of them were trouble. The green one had been caught trying to steal from the pantry, the brownish one went around nearly killing those that made eye contact, and the orange one … ugh. If it wasn't her strong smell that put him off, it was her talkative personality. He eavesdropped on a conversation between her and Darkrascal, and once Darkrascal finally invented an excuse to get away from her, he ran.
He had been watching this creature sleep for nearly fifteen minutes. At least this one appeared partially peaceful. Deciding that it wasn't going to move any time soon, he finally decided to intervene.
"Excuse me-" he started.
"FINE! FINE! I KNOW WHEN I'M UNDESIRED! FOR THE GLORY OF YESTERDAY!"
He jumped. The creature suddenly sprang up in anger with widened eyes, bellowing at him while standing straight up, and without warning, it pulsed a bright blue flame before leaping up into the air and jetting right through the roof. He expected a hole, or a shower of wood and stone chips, but all that was left behind was a partial burn mark where it passed right through in the blink of an eye.
He stood there for an entire minute; his brain trying to contemplate exactly what happened. The creature woke up, and … left? Just jumped through the ceiling and left? Finally able to decide that the creature was gone, he wasted no time in shrugging off his robes and sitting down onto the mattress. It was probably best he just pretend it all happened in his head, and the strange simulation was from a wild, fatigued imagination-
"Oh, there you are! What took you so long!"
He jumped again. The cobalt creature was back, poking its head out from under his bed. This time, its three shining eyes were wide open, and its beak-like mouth apparatus was curved upwards in a gleeful smile.
"Geez! Stop that!" the guard shouted, trying to calm himself to prevent an uncontrollable seizing. Or his body instantly reacting to the point where he attempts to behead the creature. It wasn't easy.
"You started it, so I'll be the one to stop!" it replied, floating back up into the air with outstretched wings.
The shadow guard stared, "What?"
"Three times!"
The creature suddenly leapt at the wall and banged right into it, making a loud bang that arose everybody else in the room. Apparently, it was expecting to pass right through. Instead, it stuck to the wall with all its limbs spread out.
"Jorian, what the #%^@ is that thing doing?" shouted a disturbed shadow, trying to get its beauty-rest.
"I've got no idea!" the guard shouted back. Why were they suddenly blaming him for this?
It slowly peeled itself off the wall and curled downwards until it was peering directly at him while upside down, still attached to the wall by its legs.
"It's not his fault." the creature said to the door behind him, "He tried his best, but things just didn't work out for him. If I had to guess, I would blame the trees."
It spun both its tails like a windmill blade and floated in the air for a bit before landing on its head.
"Yes, the trees! Far too many of them!"
Suddenly, it twisted itself upwards, almost turning itself inside out (that's what it looked like, anyways). This motion resulted in it being upright again.
"Or too few. I forgot which was which. I like the trees, but not the ground, but the ground needs the trees, so I'll stick with the clouds."
*BAM!*
Both of them suddenly turned. That did it. A larger, more burly shadow slammed its feet onto the ground and grabbed his nearby sword. He was getting deprived of his sleep, and he didn't like it one bit. Jorian backed away, leaving nothing between the bruiser and the creature, who immediately lost interest in the threat.
"YOU! SHUT UP!" he shouted.
"Ssh! You'll scare them away!" the cobalt creature said, gazing around the ceiling as though watching an invisible moth fly around.
The aggravated guard swung his sword without hesitation, and suddenly, just before contact, the cobalt creature vanished. There was a blur of blue, and before any of them could blink, the guard was suddenly smashed upwards through the ceiling up into the room above through a hole only half its size. The creature suddenly reappeared, lying on its side again on the bruiser's bed and clutching his pants in one hand.
"And a fine morning it is, indeed."
Jorian was about to retaliate angrily when suddenly its eyes went wide with wonder. It grabbed the pants with both hands and tore them in half, to which they burst into flames and burned away into ashes.
"OOH! OOH! OOH!" it shouted repeatedly, raising a hand upwards like a confident student with an answer.
"Geez. WHAT?" Jorian yelled.
"I just composed a new song! It's a good one!" it shouted, running to Jorian on the ceiling, "Listen! Do you want to listen?"
Jorian flinched inside. Part of him didn't want to hear it, but the more dominant part of him wanted to remain on this creature's good side. Considering what it just did to an actually experienced shadow warrior in the blink of an eye, he'd rather risk his sanity than his status.
"Fine, let's hear it." he said.
"Hear not!" it replied, "But listen! Words! Lots of them! Listen!"
Then it began:
"Listen to words, as prophets guess
A world to be will soon confess.
Sought with glee, the rise of downed
Our master snuffed by one decrowned.
Green and gem. It guards him now.
A wasted mind, to balance allow.
One is right, a stroke of grace.
The other dooms your entire race.
Hidden towards where spring bird sees,
A cannon of will shall take release.
Find it soon, to secrets jailed,
And fire it off for truth unveiled.
Strike him down, a vast mistake.
At first be nothing, through time doth take.
Remember now, these words once told;
For rise of eclipse shall thus unfold."
The guard stood there, perplexed. If it wasn't the strange nonsensical verses that made him mentally stunned, it was the deliverance. Through the entire, tone-blanked "song", the blue creature bounced around, squatting on crossed legs, swam through the air, and almost even slammed itself into the surrounding furniture. Upon finishing, it stopped, twisted its head almost a full 180 degrees upside down, and stared at him for a response.
"Wh- what does that all mean?" he asked.
"Who knows?" the creature shrugged, "You sung it. Not me. Oh, I taste it!"
The guard was about to stammer a response when suddenly the creature vanished in a wisp of blue smoke.
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SWC CHAPEL
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Although Alex made Nuli a key, he didn't need it. In the basement, there was a large, underground cavern playing host to a series of interesting aquatic fungi as well as a small, underground pond. It was fed by the ocean, of course, by means of underwater tunnel. Such a tunnel, he found out, was much too thin for an average-sized human to wedge himself through, and any attempts would result in either failure and giving up, or getting stuck and drowning. Not to mention any intruder would have to even know about it, anyways. Needless to say, it was an unguarded, unhindered way into the SWC, but nobody used it.
No human body, anyways.
Holding his breath, Nuli dove from the sky straight into the water several feet from the coastline. Several times having done so gave him the confidence and eliminated the fear of hitting rock. His tough scales preventing him from any blunt pain of hitting the water, he zoomed underwater with the force and curved himself straight towards the tunnel, which was barely illuminated by the glowing glass star atop their chapel. Gripping the rocks with all four claws, Nuli squirmed himself down and into the small hole, folding his wings in tightly and watching his pouch. Careful not to lose his breath, he calmly and quickly pulled himself through the tunnel, brushing his wings on the rock in the process.
Odd, that had never happened before. He was getting bigger, inch by inch. Another year of growing, and he'd probably get too big for the hole himself. Best take advantage of it while he could.
His claws hooked around a satisfyingly familiar rock, and with one final pull, Nuli broke through the tunnel and emerged in the small pond. Above, he saw the water's surface shining with a hauntingly light blue light coming from the glowing fungi. Wasting no time, he swam upwards and broke the surface of the water, breathing in moist, but safe enough air. He paused for a moment to check that his small leather pouch was still intact, and then pulled himself out. With a quick shake, he was devoid of water, and with caution, he bounded up the rocky stairs that Alex and Gia had hewn out for easier, safer access.
There was the trapdoor that led to the main chapel. Nuli couldn't see any light coming from the room above, nor hear any voices or footsteps anywhere. The chapel creaked for a moment as a wave of water pounded the side. Nuli didn't flinch; it was a common occurrence. Nuli wasn't worried about it giving away anytime; they had the walls reinforced so well it could take cannonfire.
And it had. A lot.
Finally deeming it safe enough, Nuli slowly opened the trapdoor, crept out of the basement, and closed it. With cautious, quiet steps, he entered the hall, listening for even a faint trace of somebody inside. For a moment, he felt it odd that he was hoping Alex was not home, as it was he that he was trying to hide from. Kind of spooky, that sort of thinking. Almost as though he didn't even know his own home.
Now that he thought about it, he was kind of disobeying Alex. Nuli was supposed to stay away while he was playing host to … that creature, and now here he was. Maybe it was this notion of being caught that he feared. If he was caught by Alex, he would be scolded. If he was caught by that creature, who had killed his father … no, he didn't want to imagine it.
The long walk through the hall felt like it took an hour. Behind him stretched out the large, open-spaced chapel, with five rows of blue velvet pews spread around the large, platform-altar. Several stained glass windows aligned the walls, covered on the outside by a series of defensive protections like metal wire nets and curved boards to protect from projectiles and rogue waves, yet still able to gather and project a colourful light throughout the room. Closer to him, in the main chapel room, was the large dining table. Mahogany, like the majority of the furniture. Alex loved that material. The legs curved down to the ground without even a trace of a straight line, extending just slightly above the flat surface, which was covered in a large blue tablecloth. The table itself was clean, devoid of all items except a potted plant Alex liked to change every week. What was it today? Immatured kwuarm flower. Its scent was so powerful that it freshened the entire room. A personal favourite of his.
To his right was the kitchen, half-windowed and exposed to the chapel (namely the dining area). The interior was mostly painted white, with a light-tiled floor around the appliances. Range, sink, oven, cupboards, log pile, counters … yeah, that was a generic, if not somewhat large kitchen, all right. He had not really learned to cook like Alex had. He could cook his own meat if he had to without burning it "too" much, but nothing fancy that appeared to have originally come out of a book. That was usually Alex's job; to surprise him with variety and interesting flavour, while at the same time, limiting him to follow his father's lifestyle of vegetarianism if but for a full day.
The careful climb up to the third floor felt like it took all night. Looking out the window as he climbed up the last stair, however, showed him that the moon simply finished leaving the horizon, and it made the house a bit brighter inside.
The door that led to the rooms. It liked to creak, he remembered. A chill crept up his spine. He will have to open it, and on the first sign of life; on the first odd thing he hears, be it even a wave hitting the wall, he would run. Back down to the basement, where he would stay. He hoped it wouldn't come to that. He tried spending the night down there once, but the abundance of humid air made him choke, and he was out coughing for a day.
Taking one more glance behind him, he pressed a "palm" on the door and gave it a bit of force. It swung open, making the unnerving creak like he expected, and he arched his back, ready to spring backwards. But he heard nothing. Another glance behind him confirmed that he was alone.
And yet, what was this feeling? As though he was being watched?
As though he was not alone in the house?
The hallway stretched ahead of him with three doors to the left and a small end-table with a set of candles on top. The middle door led to a closet; the other two to bedrooms. Alex let him choose a room if he wished one, figuring it would be a lot more homey instead of sleeping in the otherwise cold, dank workshop he used to reside in. He pondered the decision, and chose the farther room on top of the third floor. The one nearest, he knew, was his old father's room. He didn't pick it because he didn't think he would be comfortable sleeping where Gia should've been, but at the same time, he wanted to at least be closely.
Creeping past the door, Nuli imagined, for a moment, what it would've been like if his father was still alive. He'd probably be asleep in there. Loud deep breaths, with a slight, but deep snoring sound. He had slept in the workshop with Nuli a few times. As heartwarming as it was, it was still difficult to sleep with the snore. Alex slept on the second floor, probably to get away from the sound.
He passed the closet. Nothing special about that. Just a closet. There wouldn't be anything, or anyone inside. He knew for a fact that Alex didn't keep skeletalized bodies inside his closet unlike some other crazed figures he read about once. Dark necromancers would capture humans alive and lock them in so they would die from starvation, and their tormented, suffering souls would haunt the room. Exactly as desired. Even the screams for help and pleas for freedom-
Nuli sped up to get away from the closet. Better stop thinking about that. Alex is not a dark necromancer. Neither is he. Yeah, that's right. Alex killed a bunch of these figures himself. They're dead. They won't do that again. They can't.
It felt like an eternity, but Nuli finally made it to his room. It used to double as Alex's herblore workshop, but Alex relocated it back to the original area on the ground floor, finally getting the effort to clean his older workshop from the remains of a rather unfortunate explosion. It would be good if the same thing didn't happen to a guest room. The smell would probably keep them up all night. Even still, having experimented a bit in the past resulted in a strange, but delightful lingering smell of roasted cardringer; it didn't take him long at all to get used to it.
Focusing more on listening, he slowly pushed open the door partially. Suddenly, that feeling of being watched came back to him, and he looked behind him down the hall, scanning every corner and door. His breathing intensified. Something was in the air. It felt as though one of the doors was going to suddenly burst open. Or slowly creak open. Or something was going to suddenly appear. Something falling off the endurable. Why? Why was it so unnerving?
My bed. Must get to my bed, he thought frantically. Pushing the door open the rest of the way, he turned back and started towards-
*FLASH*
YAAAAAAAAAAAGH!
(If he could create that sound, he would've. Very loud.)
A flash of light, and he suddenly darted back and out. He lost control of himself completely, and with the absence of mind, his body only had one objective: get as far away as possible as fast as possible! He was so mentally stunned that his body was unable to realize he had closed the hall door behind him until it crashed headfirst into it.
*BAAM!*
That did it. If there was anyone in the house, that loud, sudden smash against the door would've aroused them. Pain raced through his body, and his mind and body immediately traded statuses; his body going completely numb and his mind going sporadic.
W-what was that?!? Lord Sartranomin, what WAS that? Light! A light! A big- no, two of them! Something! It was something! Something in his room! Eyes! Glowing eyes! It looked like eyes! Was it eyes? What has eyes? Something! Somebody! Somebody in his room!
He took several deep breaths, forcing himself to calm down. It was his imagination. It had to be. There was no sound coming from his room. Nor anywhere else. For good measure, he pounded the door behind him with a closed fist as hard as he could. Nothing. Nobody was shouting at him to be quiet. No footsteps were approaching. No lights were appearing around him. The chapel was empty and devoid of all life.
Maybe it was just a reflection of his own eyes, flashing back at him. Yeah, that was definitely it. Prying himself off the door, he reared up to the nearby end-table and removed a candle. Best play it safe, he figured. He stuck the wick end in his mouth for a second, and it came out lit. Heh, he thought, trying to get the thought of horror out of his head, I'll bet there are a lot of other creatures out there jealous of that.
Slowly, carefully, he approached the door. The door to his room, which he had been sleeping in for five months. It should be familiar. There would be nothing in his room. There's nobody in the house, so there should be nobody in his room. Walking on three legs with the candle in his fourth, he crept back towards his room; its opened door slowly swaying outwards.
He focused. Was it a ghost? If so, he could … probably handle a ghost. He had light. Not just that; he had lightning breath. He could fight back, no problem. Scare it away with a flash of bright light. Yeah.
Forcing confidence into himself, he marched to the door, gripped it with a claw, and after one deep breath, he jumped around from behind, bounding into his room at the ready.
The candlelight reflected off the mahogany walls, casted shadows off the desk and bed, and bounced off the shining handles of the dresser drawers, which he never used. They were empty. He had checked several times. He looked immediately toward where he saw the light. The window. Maybe it was just the frame reflecting his eyes back at him.
… no, they came from the glass. He was positive of it. … maybe in the darkness, the glass just reflected his eyes, as it reflected anything in the room when it was brighter inside than out. Yeah. That was it. He thought hard about it. Yeah, that was definitely it. He was freaking out from his own reflection. Ha ha. So funny. Blowing out the candle with a relieved smile, he shut the door with his tail, placed the candle on his own end-table and jumped into his bed. He made it. If Alex came home, he would hear it, and he would simply hide under the bed or inside the dresser. They'll never know he was there.
Everything was fine, he thought. It was just his reflection he saw.
That was it.
…
… that was …
…
No. That wasn't it. There was a shape, too. Bigger than the window. He saw it only briefly. An area behind the flash of light, darker than the background. A silhouette. A large, hulking figure. The eyes … there was a head. Distinct from the body. It had horns, didn't it? Yeah, he could swear there were.
Yeah, there were horns. It looked familiar. Looked a bit like his own head. Yeah, it was just his reflection after all!
… but, the area below it. It was larger … and the head … different ...
Looked almost like … … no, impossible …
It looked like …
… Gia?
Did he … did he just see … his father? No, his father has passed on!
Then … did he just see … his father's ghost?
The chapel creaked, and Nuli flinched, curling himself tighter under the blanket.
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