The Lance of Zaros, Part VIII

I'm really sorry I haven't updated in so long; I had college finals, but now that they're over with, I'll have more time to write! Anyways, at the bottom, there's a contest…M ake sure to read, review and respond to said contest!

The Ghost Town

A chill wind blew through the open windows in the top chamber of the Miscellanian Castle.

Kyran shivered, and pulled the woolen blanket tighter around himself. "Man, Astrid, you don't have any sense of hot and cold, do you? Leaving the window open when the ponds outside are frozen! If you weren't such a good kisser, I might have had to find a Karamjan princess to marry instead!"

Astrid smacked him playfully on the arm, and got up off the couch to shut the window that was placed about waist level and provided a stunning vista of Miscellania as night came on. Shimmering brown waves of grain rippled gently in the wind, and the needles of swaying evergreens shone gently with water retained from the day's rain. On the rocky shore, foamy white waves wrecked themselves upon boulders bigger than a man. A slowly-flowing river, with water so clear the trout swimming in its depths were easily seen, wound its way in front of the castle, a few small houses dotting its banks. Astrid took one last look at the landscape lain out under fading light, then slipped back under the blanket that she and Kyran had been sharing.

Kyran shivered almost imperceptibly, and then grinned as he put an arm around Astrid.

"Another day as king and queen done and dusted, eh?" he said, kissing her forehead.

Astrid smiled mischievously. "Well, the day's not over quite yet…hmm?"

Kyran raised one eyebrow. "Not over yet, indeed…If you want-" his eyes suddenly grew wide as he looked out the window.

"If I want what?" Astrid asked in a silky tone. "…What are you looking at?" She turned her head to look where his head was turned, and she saw, in the dying light, fat white flakes of snow, drifting lazily from the cloudy skies above. "What? It's just snowing."

Kyran apparently didn't hear her; he jumped up off the couch and threw the windows open.

"Astrid!" he said, a disbelieving grin growing ever larger on his face. "It's….haha! It's snowing! It's actually snowing!"

She had a quizzical look on her face. "Yeah, it's snowing…so what? It's not like it's the first time it's happened on Miscellania or anything."

"You don't get it, Astrid," he replied, still grinning. "We never got snow in Ardougne! We were lucky if we got a layer of frost on the ground!"

Astrid chuckled. "You've never had a snow day? Then…perhaps we can put our current plans on hold for the moment. I'll tell Advisor Ghrim-though I doubt he would approve of royalty engaging in such frivolities as a snowball fight- and perhaps we can ask Ingrid, Leif, and Skraeling if they would be averse to a quick outing."

I remember that we pelted each other with packed snowballs, it was really the first time I saw Astrid completely unwind, with no cares in the world. Even when she was angry or depressed, she was beautiful, but that night, when she let all of her problems go- when she smiled…the world absolutely lit up. I had no idea of the events to come at the time; nor did I know that I was to be married to the half-divine daughter of Zaros himself…

Present Day

"She's what?" Kyran half-said, half-sputtered, as they walked along the path that led to Mort'ton.

Ahrim blinked. "She's his daughter. Zaros believed that she would one day help him overthrow Zamorak."

"But…she said she was a tool!" he lamely responded.

"She is, from a certain point of view," Ahrim said. "But while she is indeed a weapon incomparable to any other, she is also unquestionably Zaros' blood. He doted on her like any father would; he even sent her gifts regularly on her birthday. Of course, he couldn't always be around- he was supposed to be banished, after all- but, without a doubt, he loved her very much."

Kyran looked pensive for a second. "What was he like?" he finally asked.

Ahrim closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then exhaled. "Zaros…how do I begin to describe him? He's…like fire, and, ice, and rage. He's like the night, and the storm in the heart of the sun. He's ancient and forever. He burns at the center of time and he can see the turn of the universe. And... he's wonderful. He always appeared to us in the form of a human, but you could always feel the barely-suppressed power surging through his veins. It was like standing in front of an open furnace. But he was never anything other than kind to us. His enemies, though- that was a different story. He was a raging typhoon, made of pure, distilled ferocity. Any who would threaten those he considered family- he would suffer none to live. He had all the qualities that any of us would look for in a comrade in arms. He was a god, yes, but…he was amazing. He was our friend, almost like a father to us. To all of us."

Kyran stared at him for a second. "In all my life, I've never heard Zaros described like that."

Ahrim turned and gave him a hard look. "That would be because Saradomin has always hated Zaros- he could never get over the fact that he was weaker than him. I would say his followers don't want you sympathizing with the enemy."

At that point, Astrid stepped in between them, smiling. "I assume my friend Ahrim has been telling you about my father."

Kyran chuckled disbelievingly. "Well, heh, I had no clue that I was married to a demigod-err, goddess. Don't get me wrong, I understand why you didn't tell me about it- I'm not quite sure how I would have reacted back on Miscellania- but…as you might imagine, it was a bit of a shock."

Astrid hung her head, staring forlornly at the ground. "No, Kyran, it's not okay. I should have told you before I fled Miscellania and tricked you into thinking I was dead. That was a mistake on my part, and I hope you can forgive me, but…now you know, and…do you think we can move on?"

Kyran raised an eyebrow and smiled wryly. "Oh, come on, Astrid. You've already asked me this, and I said yes. You don't need to apologize again." He turned to Ahrim. "Was she always this emotional?"

Ahrim chuckled. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Hey!" Astrid said, indignant. "I'm baring my soul here, Kyran! Don't make fun of me!"

He clasped her hand and rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. I'm joking…so you don't have to ask again, okay?"

"Oh ho," Ahrim said, a smirk appearing on his face. "Aw, isn't that sweet? Little Astrid, the most destructive weapon known to mankind, and she goes all weak in the knees in the face of one man. Kyran, my friend, you are a lucky man indeed…"

Astrid fumed. "You shut up, Ahrim! I'd call you by your old nickname if we weren't in mixed company!"

I never found out what Ahrim's "old nickname" was- at least, not while we were in Morytania. The next two days through Mort'ton and on to Burgh de Rott were pretty boring. We killed a few snails, and that definitely wasn't the best food I had ever tasted in my life, even with Joel cooking it, but it was food. It was only on the approach to the Myreque base town that I began to feel something was very wrong indeed…

"About time we got here!" Joel quipped. "I was getting tired of snailburgers. I'm looking forward to some real food…"

Dharok snickered. "Are you sure you don't want to swap your sword for my axe? I promise, you'd be getting the better end of the deal…"

Joel rolled his eyes. "I swear, Dharok, ask me that one more time, and I'll take your axe from you by force."

They approached the wooden gates that marked the only entrance into Burgh de Rott, but there was an eerie stillness that hung ominously in the air. There was no bustle of people delivering weapons, no smell of sizzling meat, none of the sensations that made up even a small city.

"Hold on a second!" Kyran said, holding up a hand. "Something's wrong here. You hear that?" he asked, gesturing at Bull.

Bull shut his eyes for a second, then shrugged. "Nah, I don't hear anything."

Kyran nodded. "Exactly. Nothing. Not a sound, not a peep, no bustle at all. It seems a bit strange, doesn't it?"

Verac shrugged. "We haven't been outside the tombs for over four hundred years, so we wouldn't really know what constitutes 'loud'…"

Adalyn nodded absently. "Yeah, there's definitely something going on. Perhaps we should split up and search the city?"

Kyran looked at Bull. "Any objections?" Bull shook his head.

"Okay," Ahrim said. "So what should the groups be?"

Kyran scratched his chin. "Hmm…okay. We'll split up into four groups of three each. I'll go with Astrid and Ahrim. Joel, you're with Dharok and Adalyn. Alucard, you're with Guthan and Karil. And Bull, you'll go with Verac and Torag. Sound good?"

Everyone nodded, and after a second, Kyran did the same. "Good. We'll take the north-western quarter. Joel, you've got the north-eastern section. Alucard, search the south-eastern quadrant. And Bull, take care of the south-western part." He flung his arm out. "Deploy!"

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

"You know, you're a bit of an odd candidate for the Myreque, Alucard," Guthan said.

Alucard opened the door on an apparently abandoned house. "You're not really one to talk, though. After all, you're supposed to have died over a thousand years ago."

Karil chuckled. "He's got you there, Guthan. What he meant to say was, there aren't many vampyres rebelling against Drakan. So what got you to do it?"

Alucard cleared his throat. "You'd be surprised how many vampyres are opposed to his rule. The thing is, they're all chained up. It's only because Adalyn found me on one of her trips into Meiyerditch that I'm not still there."

Karil nodded, then studied the interior of the house they had entered. It was a wreck, with nothing where it should have been. Papers were strewn across the floor, pillows had the stuffing ripped out of them, and there were candles on the tables, still lit.

"Well, it definitely looks like there was a struggle here…" Karil said.

Guthan raised an eyebrow. "No. Really? What makes you think that?"

"Hmm…it was either a struggle…or perhaps a very disorganized evacuation."

Karil scratched his chin. "Perhaps. And we didn't see anyone else before we checked this house…"

Alucard turned around. "You two: look for any sort of documentation as to what happened here. Journals, torn papers, anything that might tell us what happened here. I'll stay here to check out the rest of the house."

Guthan and Karil nodded, and split off in opposite directions after walking through the door.

Alucard turned around slowly and grinned. "Now, little domicile, what secrets do you have to yield up for me…?"

UUUUUUUUUUUUU

Kyran stared in disbelief at the basement's pub. The pub- abandoned, of course- had always been a wreck, since it was supposed to be a cover, but according to Veliaf, the basement was always immaculately clean. Now, though- it was a mess, with dirt and rubble flung haphazardly across the floor. The tables were completely trashed- broken in half, in quarters, into nothing but chunks and splinters. Chairs were smashed, and the walls were missing bricks and mortar. It seemed like the basement was due to collapse at any second. On the ruins of one of the tables lay a hastily written note. Kyran picked it up and took a look at it.

Andorin. Don't you think the mines are lovely? Daeyalt, indeed…But those psychics are tricky bastards. Death doesn't stop their bastardry, either, does it? Nor does it dull their cunning. We'd have taken them in a tussle, but they had the big one with them. So it's safe to say that basements aren't going to divulge any more secrets. Anyway, those furry transformers aren't exactly hospitable to us, so we took up residence in Saradomin's care. If you haven't made contact by then, we'll assume the worst.

-Volf

"What the hell?" Kyran said, scratching his head. "This note makes no sense. Mines? Transformers…What?"

Astrid walked up beside him. "It's probably written in code," she said, taking the note from him. "Veliaf and I had some contact, so he entrusted me with the encryption key. Give me a second to read over it…"

She quickly scanned the document, and bit her lower lip. "This isn't good," she said. "Not good at all."

"What is it?" Ahrim said. "What could possibly be so bad?"

She turned to him, a grimace on her face. "They've been found out. A band of vyrewatch attacked the settlement, and they brought Drakan himself with them this time. They didn't stand a chance, so they fled. They tried to hold him off while the rest of the Myreque escaped, but only about half escaped, including Veliaf and a few generals. They couldn't go to Canifis since the werewolves are Drakan sympathizers, so they fled to Paterdomus instead."

Kyran blinked a few times. "Hold on a second. If that happened, how did he manage to get a note written and dropped on the table while Drakan was attacking them?"

"Because it wasn't while he was attacking them. There's a lodestone hidden in the table so that wherever Veliaf is, he can teleport whatever he needs to into this room."

"Ssso…." A voice hissed from the darkness in the corner of the room, making everyone jump. "They hide in Paterdomus, the cowards." A hulking figure, at least seven feet tall, lurched out of the darkness. His skin was the color of alabaster, and he was clothed in black chainmail and clanking metal platelegs. He wore no helmet, but held in his right hand a massive silver trident.

Astrid trembled slightly. "No…it can't be…you're…"

The figure chuckled, and it sounded like a timpani drum.

"Lord Drakan…in the flesh."

So how was that? Surprising enough? Probably not, heh heh. Anyway, the contest is this: create a character for me to write into the story. Protagonist, antagonist, I don't care- although I might give good antagonist characters a little more consideration, seeing as how I already have so many protagonists. Regardless, post your character ideas in the reviews section, and be creative! See you next time!