This is my BIGGEST chapter yet. It has 12 pages (5200+ words!). I worked all Monday on this. I mean, I didn't even do anything but work on this amazing chapter.

WARNING! There is some dark stuff in here. Review Q and InterCom below!


The Sphere of Varrock

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Out of the Frying Pan

His stomach growled angrily; he hadn't had anything to eat since yesterday and he was out of money. It seemed that living outside the orphanage was harder than it first looked. Last week a wealthy man had passed by and didn't even drop in one single coin, Dustin thought bitterly. If only he hadn't lost the silver feather when those street thugs ransacked his home under the west bridge. It had forced him to move his home to the east bridge.

Having escaped from the orphanage a month ago, Dustin had tried to sell the silver feather, but because he was a kid, most vendors had assumed he had stolen it, which is right on the money, and so the guards were called. Since he couldn't sell it, Dustin was forced to pickpocket and sit on street corners begging in order to make a living.

On a good day he managed to get ten gold coins, but there were more bad days than good. Bad days consisted of him fleeing from guards and hiding in nooks and crannies. After a bad day he would be forced to wait several days, even a week, until it was safe enough to come out from underground.

Dustin couldn't decide whether or not to get up. Since the guards now had a wanted poster out for him, he didn't see much point in trying to go out. On the other hand, he hadn't bathed in a week, and it was starting to stink under the bridge; not that he was the only thing under the bridge that stunk.

"I never thought I'd miss that crummy bed at the orphanage," he said aloud. "With its too short blanket and squeaky springs."

He grabbed his bronze dagger, something he had picked up his first week in the city, his last bar of soap, and headed for the pond he bathed in. Along the way he watched the citizens go about their lives, scurrying about like rats. It was too easy to wish for what they had, to have a warm home, good food, and a loving family, especially as winter crept closer and closer. When times got tough for them, they'd have each other, but Dustin had no one to comfort him; he was alone in the world.

Sometimes Dustin would wonder why his parents, people he had long thought would never leave him, had left him. Had he done something to offend them? Perhaps they had planned to return for him and even now were heading to the orphanage where he wouldn't be. Dustin chastised himself; he knew better than to dwell on the past, when the present was trying to kill him. Ever since he had arrived in the dirty city, it had done everything in its power to stomp him like a bug, to sweep him under the rug, to get rid of him. Lucky for him, or unlucky depending on how one looked at it, he had survived. Surviving wasn't that hard to do. It was waking up each morning and carrying on, even when you wanted to end your suffering.

There were many ways to kill oneself, you just needed to find the right place to off yourself. It wasn't the act itself that stopped Dustin from going through with it nor was it the pain; it was the realization that with death came nothing. He didn't believe in an afterlife, certainly not after seeing what the world was truly like, and that no just god would ever let the world live in such poverty and filth. Yes, with death there came nothing; that was what frightened Dustin more than any thug with a knife ever could.

Small moments of light were rare in life, but Dustin had found at least one glimmer of hope that life could get better, if for a small amount of time before the dark swallowed it whole. Every so often, a small and boney stray dog would follow Dustin around the city, constantly begging for some scrap of food. At first Dustin had dismissed it with a cold and indifferent attitude. Why should he feed some mutt, when he couldn't even manage to feed himself? The dog's persistence eventually won him over and the two became near inseparable.

The sound of barking alerted Dustin to his little companion and when he turned, he was nearly knocked off his feet by the small dog. The little guy barked loudly, happiness showing in his black eyes. "Good to see you, too, Captain." Dustin had named the dog Captain because he had first started following him near the waterfront. That, and it seemed like a funny name to call such a small dog.

He put the dog down and kept walking, knowing it would follow him. Captain looked up at him and barked. Dustin smiled bitterly and said, "Sorry, boy, I don't have anything for you eat. I can't even feed myself it seems."

Captain whined pitifully, but kept up with his friend nonetheless. Dustin noticed the dog had gotten into a scuffle with one of the bigger dogs. He could see a small tear in the dog's ears.

I'll need to clean that out at the pond, he reminded himself.

Calling it a pond was pushing it. Picture an over-sized, dirty puddle and that's what it was. Dustin chose this over many other places due to its privacy; it was surrounded by a bunch of bushes and small trees with plenty of leaves, so he could strip down without being seen.

He folded his clothes and lay them far enough away so he wouldn't get them too wet, though he mentally made a note to clean them later. He waded in and immediately started scrubbing himself down. Captain had long leapt him and was doggy paddling around Dustin. When Dustin was done with himself, he grabbed the dog and gave him a necessary rubdown. Captain was fine, except when Dustin had to clean the wound out to prevent it from getting infected. The poor dog whined and growled the entire time.

Done at last, Captain raced from the water and shook himself dry. The dog then patiently waited for Dustin to come out. He grabbed his clothes and scrubbed them clean or at least as clean as Dustin could get them. Finally done with everything, Dustin waded to shore and waited for his clothes to dry.

Down to his birthday clothes, Dustin tried to stop himself from shivering, but couldn't. Winter was coming and Dustin was unprepared for it. His meager clothing wouldn't shelter him from the bitter cold, and catching a fever would be the death of him. He needed to move somewhere warmer than under a damp bridge; it hadn't been the first time this had occurred to him. Word amongst the beggars was there was an abandoned house somewhere in the rich district. A family had been killed in there long ago, so no one had attempted to buy the place. Dustin thought it over, and he knew ghosts didn't exist, so he would make the trek tonight.

He checked his clothes and they were dry enough. He whistled for Captain and set off to work at the only corner he could sit without a guard arresting him. It was between the local gentleman's club and the next street which housed the drug addicts and empty houses. He'd only worked that corner twice in his time in the city and each time he did he regretted doing so. Not left with much of a choice, Dustin touched his dagger to make sure it was still tied to his waist, and kept walking.

The spot he was heading to was dangerous, but not nearly as dangerous as where he had to pass by to get to it. A block over from the gentleman's club was a dirty, sun baked building. The beggars knew it as Gestavo's, the only place in that part of the city to get a contract put on someone's head. Many people passed by Gestavo's, but not nearly as many who lived. Dustin rationalized it as the people who died must have had a hit placed on them, and who would want to kill a street urchin like him?

He stopped just as he was about to turn a corner; Gestavo's was just around the corner, but Dustin couldn't go any further without his heart beating furiously. Slowly he poked his head around the corner, afraid that some knife wielding freak would cut his eyes out. Yet when he looked there was no one around.

Breathing normally again, Dustin chastised himself and kept going. He arrived at his spot and rested his back against the chilly brown brick wall behind him. The sound of music and laughter echoed out from the gentleman's club beside him. Sometimes Dustin got curious as to what could be going on inside; it couldn't be that bad if people were laughing, right? On several occasions he had seen scantily clad women exit from the club, and being a very healthy twelve-year-old boy, he liked what he saw and he desperately wanted to go inside to see if more women like he had seen were in the club. Of course he was always kicked back out, but Dustin told himself that he would get inside one day.

Half an hour later, and five gold coins in his pocket, Dustin decided to call it quits and stop by the bakery on his way home. Stretching to work out the kinks he had accumulated, the door to the club opened and a woman walked out. When he glanced at her, he was struck by her beauty. This woman had long, flowing red hair with a pair of fiery eyes to match. Not to mention she had some amazing curves which her stunning dress accentuated.

Taking notice in Dustin for the first time, she flashed a smile and came over to him. Barely believing his luck, he tried to control his breathing which made it look like he was panting like some dog. The woman stooped down and looked him in the eyes and asked, "What's a cute boy like you wandering the streets alone? You must have parents somewhere."

"I don't have any parents," he managed to say.

She frowned. "Oh, you poor baby!"

For the first time, he noticed a tattoo of a mouth just above her breast. He noticed it while he was checking out her, well, you know. Blushing slightly, he looked away. She looked down at her chest and grinned.

"Do you like what you see?" she asked.

His eyes widened. She continued, "This is a very special tattoo and it has an even more special story."

Dustin mentally chided himself for thinking such a dirty thought to begin with. The woman continued to speak and he struggled to catch back up. "When I was almost as little as you, I met a clan of people like none I'd ever seen before. They had mystic powers, ways of charming someone with your very voice, and I so desperately wanted to join them, but the leader at the time would not let me. He said to me, 'You are not mature enough to join us. You have not become one with your spirit.' So I went on a journey and after many trials, I returned to him and demanded I be allowed in.

"Again he told me, 'You are not mature enough.' I was angry and yelled that I would never come back; however, I did go back. But not until I had gone on an even longer journey of self-discovery. Eventually I returned to the clan, but I did not demand entry. I simply declared that I was ready and that I would abide by the leader's decision. He said to me, 'You have passed the trial, welcome to our clan.'"

Having hung on to her every word, almost as if mesmerized, Dustin looked at her and asked, "Why are you telling me this? I am a nobody, a street urchin."

"Because," she began. "I sense in you the same kindred spirit the leader sensed in me. Go and seek out the clan with the mouth tattoos; I believe you will find your purpose there."

She stood up, but before leaving she tossed a small bag of coins at him. She winked at him and said, "This should help you get there in one piece. Good bye, little boy."

Dustin opened the bag and almost fainted when he counted 400 gold coins. He could live off the bag for several years. Wanting to thank the kind lady for the story and gold, Dustin realized she'd already left. Reality settling in, he quickly grabbed Captain and set off for his bridge; he didn't need some cutpurse coming by and relieving him of his precious treasure.

Back home he went about gathering up his only belongings for what could be a long trip. As the high of getting 400 gold wore off, he started to question what he was doing. He couldn't very well just pack up and go on some fool's quest for a clan he might never find. It was even possible that the woman had lied and that the gold was fake. He reached for the coin purse and tested as many coins as he could; all of them were authentic, much to his relief and disappointment.

"What am I doing?" he asked himself. "I could just stay in the city and live off these coins, couldn't I?"

Captain growled at him. Smiling, Dustin patted him on the head. "Yeah, you're right, boy. These coins would only last a few years and then where would I be? Back to being poor and scratching for gold. Then there's the chance that I could be robbed before then."

The dog barked in agreement. Dustin would have to leave the city, tonight maybe, if he wanted to keep the gold to himself. Even if he kept this little find to himself, word would eventually get out that Dustin had some serious coin, inviting cutpurses and murderers to his bridge. He shuttered at the thought.

"Captain, what do you think I should do?" he asked the scrawny dog.

Looking up at him with near intelligent eyes, Captain barked twice. Dustin laughed and rubbed the dog's head, which set Captain's tail to wagging. "I knew you'd say that. You just love adventure."

So it was agreed, Dustin would take his belongings and leave the city that night. He checked off the places he knew he couldn't leave by, like the main gate or the west gate. Those had too much traffic, even late at night. The only place left was a little watched wall on the south side of the city. Over the years the weather had worn it down just enough so that a little boy could climb up and over. Dustin would use that wall to make his escape from the city and to a life of adventure.

He waited until it was dark enough, then crept out from under his bridge. He shushed Captain and jogged down the streets, keeping an eye on the shadows. Every now and then he thought he heard a noise, but when he stopped to check, there was nothing.

Just imagining things, he told himself. Picking up the pace, Dustin managed to put some distance between him and the bridge he had called his home for weeks. Just as he was reaching the street where the wall was, he heard the distinct sound of voices up ahead. He made sure Captain would be quiet, then snuck toward the voices.

"He should have passed this way, sir," a male voice said. He sounded squeaky and a little afraid of whomever he was conversing with.

The other voice, much deeper and booming than the first, said, "Don't give me any excuses. That boy has been a thorn in the side of the guards for a month. If we don't catch him, your job is on the line!"

"Don't worry, my sources inform me that this is the best route out of the city," the squeaky voice replied. "If that urchin is going to take any route out, it'll be this one."

Dustin's mind was reeling. How could they know he'd leave this way? One of the guards had mentioned an informant, but Dustin didn't see anyone earlier when the woman had given him the purse. Well, there were plenty of places to hide on that street, so the spy must have used those.

Captain, his tail in between his legs, whimpered silently. He knew something was wrong and that his master was upset. Dustin tried to calm the dog, but it was too scared. Dustin racked his brain for some way out of this mess.

He listened closely and noticed that one of the guards had slipped away, probably to close off another street. Peering closer, he surmised that the skinny guard was the squeaky voiced one.

What if I can get him to leave? Dustin thought. I've gotten others to do the same. But what if it didn't work? What if those other times had been flukes or his imagination? Gathering his resolve, because it was now or never, Dustin strode over to the guard.

"Stop!" the guard yelled. "What's your business being out so late, child?" Dustin saw that he had one hand on his sword. If this didn't work, he was dead or captured. Either way he looked at it, he was screwed.

"I'm going to need you to leave," Dustin tried to say calmly, but it came out high-pitched and nervous. The guard eyed him suspiciously.

"I said, what's your business here, child? I won't repeat myself again."

Heart racing, sweat beading around his eyes, Dustin tried and failed to calm himself down. He repeated his command, "I'm going to need you to leave."

It didn't work for some reason. The guard unsheathed his weapon, reaching for Dustin's arm and said, "You're coming with me."

Scared out of his wits, Dustin let out a scream. As if by magic, his scream slammed into the guard, sending him flying several feet away. The guard crumpled where he landed and didn't try to get up. Dustin's eyes were wide open at this point, not yet understanding what he had done.

"What's wrong with me?" he asked. Before he could spend anymore time mulling it over, the second guard returned with several others. Dustin screamed again, yet nothing happened. He tried to scream like the first time, but all that came out was a pitiful and normal scream.

"Sod it!" he yelled as he picked up Captain and sprinted for the wall as fast as his feet could. The sound of pursuit, plus adrenaline, pushed Dustin to his limits. Even as the wall loomed before him, his feet began to tire, and a small part of him wanted to give up and let the guards catch him. What's the worse that could happen? That was answered for him as an arrow whizzed by his head, just missing it.

"I didn't do anything!" he yelled back at them. In response, he heard a guard scream a curse at him. At least Dustin knew what the guards thought of him. The wall was closer now; it was close to three and half feet tall. He knew Captain wouldn't like it, but it had to be done. With all his might, he tossed the little dog over the wall, and then scrambled over it himself.

On the other side at last, his feet hit the ground running. Dustin trusted Captain to keep up as he raced to the safety of the tree line ahead. Halfway across the field, he dared to look back. To his horror, the guards were being very persistent tonight, for they too had jumped the wall. Another round of arrows shot past him. Lucky for him the guards were bad shots or else he'd have another hole or two in him.

In the forest he'd be able to outrun the guards more easily; more obstacles to hinder them. With the last bit of energy he had left, he flung himself into the forest, then scrambled back up and kept going. Unfortunately the guards must really have hated him, because they didn't let the forest get in their way.

After a few minutes, Dustin had to stop to take a breath. Gasping for air, he wasn't sure how long he could keep this up. Not only had the guards kept pursuing him, but they had also split up, making it that much harder to evade them. He took in a big gulp of air, grabbed Captain who had long lost his steam, and struggled on.

Without warning a guard came out of nowhere to block his path. Dustin gasped and looked around for an exit, but somehow two more guards had appeared. He tried to gulp, but his mouth was too dry. "Please," he begged. "Please just let me go. What did I do?"

The three guards snickered ominously. "Oh, we're not going to let you go now, you pest," said the blonde guard in front. "You've caused us too much trouble these past four weeks, what with the stealing and the embarrassment."

The second guard nodded. "We can't you go, because we haven't had our fun with you."

Dustin gagged with disgust. He had heard what happened to little boys who were captured by the guards. Things happened and the boys were never seen again. Crying now, Dustin tried again. "I didn't do anything! Please don't hurt me!"

"What do you think?" the first guard asked the other two. "Should we let him go?"

One of the other two stepped closer with a sadistic grin on his face. "Sure, after we're through roughing him up a little. Does that sound like fun, little boy?"

"No," Dustin sobbed. "Stay away!"

The guards stepped even closer, until he could smell the stink of alcohol on their breath. The first guard leaned in close, his face inches from Dustin's ear. In a whisper he said, "We're going to rough you up, boy."

Dustin let out a cry and made a break for it. He had gotten a few feet away before the guards grabbed him by the arms and yanked him back. He tried to run again, ripping his shirt as he struggled to free himself from the drunk guards' hands.

"Oh, look at what you did to your good shirt!" the blonde guard said, mockingly. "You ripped it."

"Maybe he likes having his clothes torn," the tan guard suggested with a giggle.

Leaning in again, the first guard asked, "Is that it? Do you like your clothes torn, boy?" He grabbed hold of Dustin's shirt and ripped it open. The guard peered at Dustin's exposed skin and laughed. "You're pale for such a filthy street urchin. Do you not go out in the sun much?"

The other two guards laughed drunkenly. The first motioned for them to do to his pants what he had done to the shirt. Soon Dustin was shivering in the night air, his clothes torn to shreds. He clutched Captain with all his might, the little dog nuzzling him for safety.

The second guard grinned devilishly. "Boy, take those clothes off. They're too torn to be any good for you!" His friends high-fived him.

Horrified at what was going to happen, Dustin shook his head. The guard frowned. "What's wrong? Don't be afraid of me. It's just old uncle Roy." The other guards snickered in response.

Roy repeated himself, this time more angrily. "I said take it off!"

When Dustin refused again, Roy said, "It looks like it's time for a little tough love." The guards shoved Dustin to the ground and began to kick him unmercifully. Dustin sobbed as their feet, clad in iron, slammed into his rib cage repeatedly.

When they were done kicking him in the stomach, they then kicked his face until Dustin's mouth puffed up. Dustin muttered, "Please … stop." The guards didn't hear him and kept up their torture.

"Let's take that dog away from him," suggested the tan guard. "Maybe we can have more fun with it than this wet log."

"Leave Captain alone!" Dustin cried.

"Captain?" the guard laughed. "What a dumb name for a dog."

Dustin tried to hold on to his dog, but the guards were too strong. Even as they beat the little dog, Dustin couldn't manage to get up; he was in too much pain. With every painful squeal, Dustin cried.

Suddenly there was silence. Dustin opened his eyes and looked at his dog, its body so mangled he couldn't even tell it was once Captain. The guards slapped each other on the back, proud of what they'd done to an innocent creature. Dustin's blood began to boil as he thought about the fun times he had with Captain: running from guards, playing fetch, swimming in the pond.

Finished with the dog, the guards returned their attention to Dustin who had managed to stand on his feet, if a bit shakily. "That dog was too easy," Roy said. "Will you be more of a challenge?"

"I'll kill you!" Dustin roared. And just like before, his voice became an unstoppable force, slamming into the guards. The guards yelled in fright and turned to run, but Dustin wasn't done. "You'll pay for what you've done to me! What you've done to Captain! You monsters!" With each word he uttered, his voice became stronger until the trees began to shake. The guards stumbled around, the ground having become unstable. Dustin pushed out with his voice, knocking them to the ground.

He continued shouting, pushing his voice at the evil guards who killed his only friend in the world. He shouted louder causing their bones to twist until they snapped under the pressure. But he wasn't through yet, his rage not diminished in the slightest. He heard them beg for mercy, beg for their lives, yet their cries went unanswered.

His voice changed with every push. It became hollow, distant, and cold. "You think your crimes will go unpunished? You think just because the gods do not pay attention, nothing will happen to you? Wrong, because I am watching! I am the voice of those you murdered in cold blood! Those you played with until they were nothing but hollow dolls of their former selves!"

The first guard, the one who had ripped his shirt, was the first to die, his head crushed. As Dustin continued to shout, his eyes grew more sunken and lifeless, like the very act of shouting was killing him. Or perhaps it was transforming him into something else entirely.

Drowning out the screams of the guards, Dustin poured more and more of his sorrow and anguish into his voice. His tears ran red with blood as his breathing became shallower with each scream. Soon his strength faltered and he fell to his knees. With one last pitiful scream, the final two guards were killed, nothing but mangled corpses.

With the last of his strength, he clawed his way over to Captain's body, now beyond recognition. Cradling the dog's body in his arms, he rocked it back and forth. "I'm sorry," he whispered through his tears. "Sorry I couldn't protect you."

Hours passed as he held Captain in his arm. At last he rose, deciding to bury his friend before sun rise. No shovel in reach, Dustin scraped the hard earth away with his dagger. It took another two hours and tons of sweat, but he was able to dig out a good sized grave. Laying Captain in it, he sprinkled soil back over the grave until there was a mound.

"Rest in peace, Captain," Dustin said, tears in his eyes.

Dustin tied his dagger to his waist and set off into the forest. He had to find the clan, so that Captain's sacrifice would not be in vain. But as he walked, he wondered what he was turning into. His voice had the power to charm and now it seemed it had the power to kill as well. He only hoped that nothing else happened to him on his journey.

Maybe the clan with the mouth tattoo will help me control this terrible power of mine, he thought. Or maybe my voice will become uncontrollable and I will need to be put down like a rabid animal or a monster.

Deep in thought, Dustin didn't notice the rushing river until he nearly stepped foot in it. He knelt down and splashed the cold, refreshing water onto his face, wiping away the dirt and tears. He took a look at his reflection and what he saw scared him considerably.

Staring back at him was a boy, his red eyes sunk into his gaunt and wicked face. It didn't take long before Dustin realized that it was his reflection. He struck the surface of the river with his fist. When the water returned to normal, his regular face looked back up at him.

Maybe it was just my imagination? he asked himself. Frightened and alone, Dustin followed the river parallel until he came to a mill. There was a man tending to his crops nearby. Dustin hoped he could get some directions to the nearest town or a hint toward the clan.

"Excuse me," Dustin called out. "I need some help."

The bearded man looked up from his work and came over. He took in Dustin's appearance and frowned. "Boy, what happened to your clothes? Never mind, come inside before you catch your death of cold!" He lead him back to his house which looked very cozy compared to Dustin's previous living arrangements.

Inside Dustin took off his shredded rags and gave them to the man, who had identified himself as Zerek. He was the sole owner of the mill and ran it with the help of his boys. His wife was long dead; she was taken by a deadly bout of the flu many winters ago. But Zerek had raised his boys best he could, and, according to him, they had came out all right.

A bowl of soup in his hands and some comfy clothes on his back, and Dustin was sitting by the fire telling his host everything about himself. Zerek nodded at the good moments and shook his head at the sad ones.

"Well, it certainly seems you've lived a troublesome life, Dustin," Zerek said when Dustin had finished. "But, rest assured, it's all over now. I hope you'll accept my invitation to stay with us, instead of traveling off to find some reclusive clan."

He stopped to consider the offer; it was what he had always wanted, a home. But the clan of the mouth might be able to train him in the use of his voice which was more important than what he needed. "I'm sorry, but it is imperative that I find the clan; it's a matter of life and death."

"Far be it for me to stop such a hot-headed youth," Zerek said with a hearty chuckle. "I'd like you to take this sword of mine. I've no use of it now, not with my occupation at least, and it's better than that bronze dagger you now carry with you."

He marveled at the iron sword that he had been given. It bore the scratches of battle as a great sword should. He wiped a tear away before it could fall; he didn't want to be seen crying in front of someone like Zerek.

Zerek gave him a blanket and pillow for the night. In the morning, Dustin would set off for the clan of the mouth. He laid his sword next to him and drifted off to sleep.


Review Q: What is the name of your favorite pet? What was your reaction to the death of Dustin's pet?

InterCom: This section is reserved for questions you may want to ask me.

Comments: This chapter was a whopping 12 pages. I believe that is bigger than any of my previous chapters. I spent all day Monday on this so you're welcome. I had planned to go even further than 12 pages, but I felt it was best to cut it at 12, making the rest a new chapter.

Until next we meet, Merry Christmas!