Wahisietel found Sliske (or rather, Sliske found him, because nobody ever finds Sliske) by what once was the Great Temple of Zaros in the Lower District of Senntisten. Humans thronged around him, heading home with the promise of rain on the horizon. Sliske was glaring tragically into the crowd, obviously discomforted by having to remain in the open for so long. Wahisietel, in the guise of a pale-skinned man of Forinthry, smiled. It was nice to see Sliske discomforted by anything. It didn't happen often.
"You kept me waiting long enough," Sliske remarked when Wahisietel approached, his tone neutral. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't come."
"Yes, well, I was beginning to you think you'd blown me off entirely," Wahisietel said. "Even when you're just standing there you're hard to find. I'll also thank you for your cryptic note, as well. If you hadn't specified which Great Temple you were talking about, it would have been significantly more difficult for me to track you down, but thank goodness you were considerate enough to make my job easier."
The note in question was delivered by a harried-looking courier just an hour previously with the following words on it: Great Temple of Zaros. Come alone. Make it snappy. XOXO Sliske.
"You're welcome," Sliske said. "Also, don't be sarcastic. It does not suit you."
Wahisietel huffed as he ran his hand through his hair, a nervous tic that surfaced whenever he took the form of a human. "So, why did you call me?"
"Oh," said Sliske. "This and that."
"Helpful," said Wahisietel.
"Sarcasm," Sliske hummed, with a distinctly sarcastic note to his voice. "If you must know more, I have come across some… information that may be of use to you and Dagroda. Or rather, someone who does possess this information."
"Information?" Wahisietel asked.
"Yes, information."
"Concerning what?"
"Not here," Sliske said simply. "Follow me." He turned to lead Wahisietel away, his black cloak sweeping almost comically behind him. Wahisietel frowned and hastened after him, the older Mahjarrat's pace more suited to jogging than running.
"Can you tell me where we're going, at least?" Wahisietel asked. Sliske glanced backwards only momentarily. Wahisietel could swear he grinned at him.
They made their way through the city as the clouds on the horizon grew closer. The people began to vanish from the street in greater numbers into their homes, while others quickened their pace and glanced nervously at the sky.
Wahisietel noticed the dwellings of the humans becoming more run-down and ramshackle as the two Mahjarrat moved further north. While he had never seen humans owning anything like the more opulent mansions of the Upper District, the "houses" he saw in this part of the city were barely adequate during fair weather; the driving rain that often plagued Senntisten during the summer would tear them apart. Indeed, they looked as though they had been rebuilt multiple times, and shoddily at that.
Abruptly Sliske halted, putting his hand, palm facing outward, into the air. "Wait," he said unnecessarily, and vanished. In his place was a jet-black bird, cawing shrilly at Wahisietel's feet. The Mahjarrat blinked. He had never known Sliske to be this incautious about transforming when humans were around.
The bird took off into the sky. Wahisietel did as told and stayed put, shielding his eyes as he tried to follow the bird's movements in the sky. It circled lazily about the sky. Wahisietel half-expected it to try and drop its stool on his head. It would be a very Sliske thing to do when he had the opportunity.
The bird finally returned to the ground, assuming the shape of a man again almost before it had touched down. "So, what was the point of that?" Wahisietel asked irritably.
"Making sure we're in the right place," Sliske said gruffly.
Wahisietel narrowed his eyes. "I've never known you to be this serious about anything before. I know something's off when you don't even try any funny business in bird form."
"Serious?" Sliske replied. "I'm always serious. It's the rest of you that's acting silly. Squatting on this patch of land like worried hens, going on about war and walls and ideology and fighting for gods that don't give a muspah's spitball about their own beliefs anymore." He grimaced. "Believe it or not, I'm the only sane one here."
All of a sudden, they heard a bell ring.
"There's no bell here," Wahisietel said, frowning.
"No," Sliske agreed. "That would be our signal. Come along now, it's rude to keep our hosts waiting."
…
A dark alleyway was not where Wahisietel would have guessed Sliske was taking him, but nonetheless he found himself picking his way through the darkness behind a building long since started to crumble. Occasionally light would shine through a broken wall and dazzle Wahisietel's eyes.
Once again he cursed human eyesight. "Who are we meeting with?" he asked again, this time to confirm if he would be safe assuming his true form.
"You'll find out," Sliske said. "I assure you, however, this will be worth your oh-so-important time."
"I am one of the few remaining Mahjarrat," Wahisietel said. "I have a crucial role in defending the city of Senntisten and its people. I am at the right hand of the Priest-King Dagroda and am champion to what remains of the Zarosian Empire." His voice rose. "So yes, I would say that my time is very important!"
"Shut up," Sliske hissed.
"I will not-" Wahisietel began, before Sliske's gloved hand clapped over his mouth.
"Can't you hear it?" the older Mahjarrat asked.
"'Err ut?"
For a moment all was still. Sliske scanned the shadows, hand remaining on his brother's mouth. Wahisietel didn't dare say anything, because now he could hear it too.
It was a low, throaty growl, that of something colossal and dangerous. Wahisietel strained to see it, but once again his human eyes betrayed him.
The two Mahjarrat took a step backwards. "Brother," Wahisietel whispered, "I think perhaps we came to the wrong place."
"No," Sliske said. "I think we're exactly where we're supposed to be."
All of a sudden, a shape erupted from the darkness. Wahisietel let out an involuntary yell as the bright red skin of a hellhound caught the light. It snarled at them and assumed a fighting position.
Sliske smiled. "Wisakedjak, your disguises are becoming poorer."
The hellhound paused, and then twisted its jowls upward in a parody of a smile. In an instant, a Mahjarrat clothed in faded blue appeared in its place. Its face, marked with sigils of the same color, maintained its grin.
"I still think you're cheating, Sliske," Wisakedjak said. He nodded to Wahisietel, his grin slipping away. "Wahisietel."
"Wisakedjak," Wahisietel replied. "It is good to see you again."
"And you," he said. Wisakedjak's grin returned. "I'm glad you two showed up. There've been some… developments."
"As I've been told," Sliske said, and Wahisietel realized that Sliske didn't actually know what was going on, either.
"This way," Wisakedjak said, and disappeared into the darkness again, Wahisietel and Sliske in tow.
…
"What is the situation outside, Sliske?" Wisakedjak asked as they made their way through the alleyways. Wahisietel turned his head to pay attention. There was safety inside Senntisten, but beyond those walls…
"Ullek has fallen," Sliske said. "Balfrug Kreeyath and his forces took it easily. The Kharidian region itself is… suffering."
"Indeed? In what way?" Wisakedjek seemed almost excited to hear the answer, Wahisietel noted with dismay.
"Many more cities than Ullek have been destroyed by Zamorak," Sliske replied. "The desert itself is expanding as woodland is destroyed for fodder by both armies. Drakan, vampyre lord and psychopath extraordinaire, has established his own foothold there, as well."
"What of Azzanadra and Akthanakos?" Wahisietel asked.
"Still not found," Sliske said. He hesitated for a moment. "Dagroda has informed me recently that all efforts to find them will be suspended until the end of the war."
"The end of the war," Wisakedjak snorted. "As though this war will ever end."
They walked in silence for a while longer.
"Are you the informant Sliske mentioned?" Wahisietel asked.
"No," Wisakedjak said. "I am taking you to her."
"Oh" was all Wahisietel could say.
"Where did you find her?" Sliske asked.
Wisakedjak snorted. "She found me. She is- or was, I suppose- a Saradominist. It's not that surprising, I suppose. Soldiers from both sides defect all the time. I suspect this one left after Saradomin lost Silvarea again." He waved his hand in the air. "Not that it's important now."
Finally the group reached its destination, or at least so Wahisietel surmised from Wisakedjak's abrupt stop. Sliske caught his eye and grinned. The low light made it seem sinister.
"Just stay behind me," Wisakedjak whispered, "and look as though you're competent."
"At least one of us will be able to do our job," Wahisietel said.
"Indeed," Sliske replied, and Wahisietel had the distinct feeling that he'd shot himself in the hand.
Wisakedjak held up his fist for silence. "From dust we come forth," he said loudly, and it took Wahisietel a moment to realize that he was talking in the High Tongue of old.
"…And unto dust we will return," came the answer in the same language. From the darkness came a loud rustling noise, and then footsteps. Wahisietel heard a low hiss of indrawn breath when the figure emerged that might well have been him.
At one point, she may have been considered beautiful. Wahisietel supposed she still was, in a way, but she had been robbed of the splendor and opulence of her prior position. She was clad in ill-fitting robes, obviously meant for a Mahjarrat or one of similar stature. Her face was downcast but fierce.
That was not what had drawn Wahisietel's eye, however. It was the white wings that hovered behind her, one at a painful-looking angle.
"An Icyene," Sliske said, seemingly unconcerned with the latest turn of events.
"An Icyene," Wisakedjak confirmed. "Goes by the name of Alifanta, though I of course doubt the veracity of that claim."
Abruptly Alifanta drew herself up higher, gaining back a fraction of what she once must have been. "Whether or not that is my birth name is not your business, Mahjarrat," she said hoarsely. "Have you told Dagroda my terms?"
"Yes," Wisakedjak said, "and he has come up with a bargain that I find myself one hundred percent behind; you will get your asylum after you tell us what you know. Unless we don't find your information useful, in which case we'll throw you back to Saradomin with a nicely worded letter of explanation."
Alifanta glowered, but she was obviously past the point of being able to risk anything. After a moment, she nodded.
"Good," Wisakedjak said. "We're all friends here."
Wahisietel frowned. He could no longer contain his curiosity. "Why did you defect?" he asked.
"That's not important," Wisakedjak began, but Alifanta turned to Wahisietel.
"This is why," she said simply, and extended her left wing. Now, Wahisietel could see that it was worse than he had assumed it to be. The feathers were scraggly and simply missing in many places, and the bone was twisted and unusable. "I was wounded in battle. When you are wounded as severely as I am, you cannot fight. And if you cannot fight…" she trailed off and shrugged.
"They'd kill you?" Wahisietel asked, going cold despite himself.
"No," she said. "But they stop giving you what you need to live. It is as good as a death sentence these days, in the height of the war." She brushed her brilliant red hair out of her face. "On the other hand, they turn a blind eye to your activities, and so I came here."
"I hope you're writing all this down, Wahisietel," Wisakedjak said dryly. Alifanta did not reply, but she did not continue.
Sliske leaned forward. "Your information," he said.
"Yes," said Wisakedjak. "That is what you came here for after all."
Alifanta glared at them both. "I am under the impression that Senntisten is one of the last major Zarosian cities," she said.
The three Mahjarrat glanced at each other. "Yes," Wisakedjak said at last. "That is true."
Alifanta had a penchant for the dramatic, Wahisietel reflected. She leaned closer to say whatever it was she was going to say. The Mahjarrat involuntarily leaned in as well.
"Saradomin is planning an attack on Senntisten," Alifanta said, "and Zamorak is helping him."
There was a long silence.
Wisakedjak snorted, causing Wahisietel to startle. "Perhaps you are unaware of history, Alifanta," he said, "but Saradomin and Zamorak… don't like each other very much."
"They don't collaborate on anything," Sliske added, though he sounded less certain.
"They have done so in the past," Alifanta said.
"That was before they got so royally tangled up in that nonsense in Silvarea and Forinthry," Wisakedjak rejoined stiffly, no longer sounding quite so amused. "I cannot imagine that Saradomin could possibly hate Zaros more than Zamorak. Zamorak, perhaps, but Saradomin…"
"I myself was involved in the planning," Alifanta said angrily. "It is not a rumor amongst the infantry. Saradomin spends many nights with his generals, drawing plans for this very attack."
"You're insane."
"'Insane' is not even willing to consider the possibility of an attack that could destroy Senntisten forever," Alifanta replied.
Wisakedjak looked murderous for a moment before Sliske stepped forward. "Thank you," he said, and Wahisietel imagined he might sound sincere to someone who was not his brother. "You have been a great help."
"Yes, well," Alifanta said. "I did not do this out of the goodness of my heart."
Sliske smiled eerily. "Of course. We will talk to Dagroda about your asylum. In the meanwhile, you can stay in the palace. Wahisietel will show you where to go."
"I will?"
"Yes, you will," Sliske said. "I'm glad we're on the same page. Wisakedjak, we must talk." He took off into the sky, changing almost as he went. Wisakedjak followed soon after. Soon after it began to rain, and Wahisietel shivered as drops swam down his face incoherently. "Come on," he said. "The palace is a bit of a walk."
…
After Wahisietel left the crippled Icyene in the tower reserved for guests of the Priest-King, he walked for a while on the palace grounds.
The rain storm had abated only minutes earlier, and the ground was soft and moist. And every so often Wahisietel's boot would squelch into the ground.
On the eastern wall was an area of cracks and openings that Wahisietel liked to climb. He could just as easily fly to the top, or teleport, or anything of that sort, but he enjoyed the climb. There was something invigorating and innately human about it, as though, just for a moment, he could pretend he was not so old and had not seen so much.
It did not last, of course, but it helped.
He climbed it now, placing his foot precisely where it needed to be from muscle memory and heaving himself up by the tiniest of cracks. He had climbed up this wall so often that it was almost easy now, even without the aid of any magic. He smiled softly to himself. Let's see Sliske do this.
Finally he pulled himself up onto the top of the wall. The city spread out before him, the luster of the Upper District now reflecting the moonlight as it did the suns during the day.
To his right was the Lower District. It was almost entirely dark, except where the pale light of the moon could reach. He wondered what the humans had done during that past rainstorm, if any of the feeble houses he had seen survived.
Abruptly he imagined all of it gone, wiped from the earth as Annakarl and the others had been. The Lower District in flames, the Upper being plundered and destroyed. The palace in a heap on the ground, or sporting the banner of Zamorak. He shuddered.
He had always thought of Senntisten as inviolate. An island, safe from the War that raged outside. Very soon, if Alifanta was telling the truth, that might not be true anymore.
After a while longer, he began the climb back to the ground.
Heyyy. I know I said "this week" like a month ago, and I apologize, if there're people out there who actually do follow this story. Also, the phrase from last chapter, "reple me nervis hostium" means "fill me with the vigor of my enemies" and is also incidentally the words to the Ancient Curse Leech Energy, because a) I'm lazy and b) I don't really trust Google Translate. To be clear, the figure is not actually using Leech Energy, just repeating the phrase from the Hymnal.
Thanks for reading, everyone