A/N: Another chapter! Whoop whoop!

Chapter Thirty-Six

"Aren't they going to notice that we didn't go with them?" Azzanadra asked his god as they made their way back down to the Senntisten Temple.

"Almost certainly," Zaros replied. "We shall deal with those consequences when they become relevant."

Wahisietel and Akthanakos were standing in front of the headless altar, engaged in a heated discussion. When Azzanadra and Zaros entered, however, they both immediately turned to face the new arrivals.

"What has happened?" Wahisietel asked urgently. "Where is Enakhra?"

"Take note, Azzanadra," Zaros said coolly. "Wahisietel is still one with his senses."

Azzanadra looked at his feet, caught between shame and anger. Apparently his mistakes weren't going to be forgiven quite as easily as they had been in the past.

"Enakhra?" Wahisietel asked again. "Where is she?"

"She is dead," Zaros replied. His tone was flat and measured, as though the female Mahjarrat's death was no more worth commenting on than the weather. "Sliske has betrayed us to his own ends, and Guthix has been awoken. The situation has become dire."

Wahisietel let out a disappointed sigh. "I was hoping that I was somehow mistaken. I did not care particularly for Enakhra, as I don't any Zamorakians, but our race cannot hope to survive this."

"Guthix is awake?" Akthanakos asked, fear in his voice. "How did that happen?"

"Kharshai," Azzanadra said. "He didn't like the idea of a battle between the factions, so he found a way to interrupt it. Now Guthix wants to send us all back to Freneskae."

There was a slight pause after his words. Akthanakos looked just as horrified by the news as Azzanadra had been, but Wahisietel seemed oddly thoughtful.

"I was not aware that he had the ability to do such a thing," he said. "If he does, should we not take him up on the offer?"

Azzanadra stared at him, wondering if he had heard correctly. "Offer? It was a threat!"

Wahisietel shrugged. "Perhaps that is how he meant it, but you have just told me yourself that Enakhra is dead. If we stay here, our kind will eventually die out. A return to our homeland could hold the promise of new life."

"That's a terrible idea!" Akthanakos exclaimed. "We haven't seen Freneskae since we left. Who knows what's happened to it?"

"It does not seem as though Guthix plans to let us choose our own fates," Zaros interjected. "This is a threat, and it is all or nothing. Whatever Guthix decides will affect all of us, so we must find the others now."

The three Mahjarrat looked at each other with various expressions of uncertainty, but turned and followed Zaros out of the temple all the same.

As soon as Khazard fell to the ground, Sliske felt a ripple of some kind of power run through him. He frowned, taking a cursory glance around. There was definitely no one nearby, so what had just happened?

He held up his hand, running his gaze over the Staff that it held. He thought he could see a vague flicker of residual magic surrounding the object, but things often appeared differently in the Shadow Realm.

With a shrug, he looked back up and noticed something that should probably have been immediately obvious.

The landscape had changed.

When Khazard had approached him, Sliske was somewhere in the vicinity of Falador. Now the terrain around them was jagged and mountainous, made up almost entirely of rocks. Sliske hadn't seen an area like this since…

He froze in shock. This wasn't possible. He had tried, and it had never worked. Each world had its own Shadow Realm. They shouldn't be connected.

For some reason, the idea of being alone was suddenly not so appealing. Breaking out of his self-inflicted immobility, he gave Khazard a forceful kick to the shoulder. The other Mahjarrat didn't so much as groan at the assault. It seemed that he was properly out cold.

"Damn it all," Sliske muttered. "Can't even be cooperative when you're unconscious."

Then he remembered that he was currently holding one of the most powerful objects in Gielinor. With a self-satisfied smirk that said he knew his upcoming action would be rather unpleasant for the inert Mahjarrat beside him, Sliske once again swung the Staff at Khazard's head.

Khazard's resulting yell would have been heard in Nardah, had they still been on the correct plane. Instead, it was just very, very loud.

"Shut up," Sliske told him, no sympathy in his voice. "Kindly move yourself into an upright position. I require your input."

Khazard didn't move. He sat there for a long moment, staring at his hands like he had never seen them before. Then he looked up at Sliske, indignation written across his face. "You knocked me out!"

"Yes," Sliske replied tersely. "Are you going to get up and help, or should I do it again?"

Khazard scowled, but pushed himself rather unsteadily to his feet. "What do you want?"

"Did you attempt to open a door back to Gielinor before I hit you with the Staff?"

"I tried," Khazard replied. "Obviously it failed."

"Yes, obviously," Sliske said. He looked back down at the Staff, wondering just how much unknown power it possessed. "However, I believe it caused an entirely different outcome."

Khazard crossed his arms. "What are you talking about?"

Sliske raised an eyebrow at him. "Look around."

Khazard complied, and his expression slowly shifted from annoyance to stunned disbelief. "No… It can't be."

"That is precisely what I thought," Sliske replied, "but it would seem that we are back in Freneskae."