Chance Meeting

Cara Vs Zed
Cara stepped over the guard's corpse. His face was badly burnt, his head cracked open. Either he'd been smacked over the head with a torch or there was magic at work. There were corpses everywhere, someone had taken the Dark Wizard's stronghold. Recently.

They had stolen Riley from her, after he had lost so much. She needed him back. But someone had been here before her, someone had killed the guards. If the wizard's were dead too, Cara might never see him again.

Her hand moved for the knob of the door, but her fingers slipped through the metal, making small ripples like the surface of water. A magic door, strong enough to deter any amount of force. But Cara was immune to magic. She poked it again, and when nothing jumped out at her, she stepped through it, into the darkness.

The dark room was filled with unconscious guards, on, through and under papyrus-lined tables. One had crashed through a book case. Another was on fire, yet another's head had been smashed through a wall. A chair had been placed on a table, and a man she could barely make out in the lack of lightsat atop it.

Cara flung her dagger at him. Is sythed through the air. The man raised his hand, the dagger froze inches from his face, and stayed there, spinning slowly in mid-air. He didn't seem worried, or even caring. He just looked... philosophical. Maybe even slightly bemused.

"First, why did you throw a dagger at me? Second, your name? And thirdly-no, no that covers it"

"Where is he?" Cara demanded. "Where is Riley?"

"Riley? Never heard of him"

Cara ran at him. The dagger dropped to the floor, the man rolled backward over the chair, off the table and onto the floor. The wooden chair toppled, the man splayed his hand. The chair shot forward, striking Cara and knocking her off her feet.

Cara rolled back, snatching up her dagger. She went to leap over the table, but with a flick of the man's wrist it shot up into her, sending her spiralling into the ground with a smack. Cara got up, slowly, thinking up options. He was a wizard, so he could only hurt her with the objects in the room. If she was quick, if she could avoid them, she could win.

The table flew at her, she swung her weight back to avoid it. It spun round to catch her in the back, but she rolled to the left, out of range. The Slayer ran at the wizard, charging quickly. She leaped to the air, and aimed a kick at his tall frame.

He vanished before the blow landed and Cara stumbled a little as she fell, a boot catching her in the back. She spun around with a vicious kick that he ducked under. She swung a powerful fist that caught him in the head, and he went down. He muttered some words, and vanished into thin air before Cara's fist hit him.

He reappeared beside her, and swung his elbow into the side of her head, but she grabbed the arm and snapped her knee into his stomach. Pain overcame him as he buckled, and she lifted him up high into the air, before letting him drop. He vanished before he hit the floor.

Cara looked around for him, and spied him across the room. He was crumpled up against a wall, breathing heavily. "You're a slayer" he said. "I...I can sense it. My magic......much of it won't work on you....Damn....Why? Why are you attacking me? You...You are with them? With the dark?"

Cara shook her head. "I'm not. And, I can tell by how you fight, you're not either. It's just, you were in chair, and were looking really malevolent..."

"Are you telling me you tossed a dagger at me because I looked evil?"

She nodded.

"And you thought you could tell I was evil by how I looked sitting in the pitch black?"

"So the trail of corpses? They're not yours?"

"Oh they are. But they were evil"

"How could you tell?"

"They were skulking around the Dark Wizard's fortress"

"Which makes them automatically evil"

"Yeah! What non-evil person hangs out at the-oh, oh right. I, I guess you're forgiven"

They laughed. The both of them relaxed, all violence had left their minds.

Set In Motion
Henry's eyes met the Varrock Gates. Ground stone pavalons that showed the way into the shining city. A steady stream of people coming in and out of the gates, all with agendas, secrets, stories, lives, separate to his own. It felt strange to him, that of all these lives, he couldn't touch one. They would leave him, never remembering, forever passing on. He couldn't impact. He was unimportant.

"You think strange thoughts, traveller"

The voice jarred into his thoughts, interrupting. Annoying. Henry turned to meat his questioner. Standing upon a grassy bank, was a man in a trench coat. A hat hung low over his eyes, the collar of the dark brown coat was turned up, hiding all but his eyes.

"And how would you know about my thoughts?"

"It's one of my two special skills. The other is knowing where I am"

"The gates of Varrock"

"At a critical juncture. At a choice"

"What are you-"

"One option leads to uncertain ground, to the darkest reaches I can find. One leads to oblivion, at the hands of the hourglass, and one leads to nothing, pure and non-existent. I want to see. To See how it ends. But not yet. Not today. I'm not cruel"

"I don't follow"

"I suppose you couldn't, really. You know nothing, and those who know nothing can understand nothing"

He motioned to the gathering of people, moving about their lives.

"These people. They are higher then you, surely, if you must protect them. But that isn't the case, is it? It's the reasons you're protecting them that make you higher. It's the reason. I understand. Thanks"

"Okay, you understand, but I don't"

"You will. Much of what you will be is in you, Henry. Don't lose yourself"

The man turned his back on Henry. The warrior turned to follow him, but from behind him, Evaire called his name.

"Henry! Come one, lets go. We've got a lot of work to do before the sun goes down"

Henry turned to her, and saw her, but the man had some questions to attend to. He looked back, but the Trench Coat had disappeared

I Will Find You
Glenn bent low, letting the dust sift through his fingers. He took in a deep breath with his nose, letting the animal inside him pick out the young man he was looking for. He caught Markus' scent, finally, and stood up. He had him. This was a chance, a chance to be closer to human. He wouldn't pass it up.

Family History
"Apologise. Now"

The man was choking on his own blood, so Markus chopped his throat, the blood splurted out.

"Now"

"I'm sorry-"

"What for?"

"For what I said"

"About"

"Wanting to take your girl and-"

"Thank you, that'll be enough"

Markus threw him against a wall, where he slumped down and stayed still. Erika was impressed.

"You handle yourself well in a fight" she said.

"Yeah, I've been in a lot of them" Markus sat by the bench, motioned for her to sit next to him.

"You say you've heard of her?"

Erika nodded, sitting down beside him. "Gypsy Aris. She's famous all around of Varrock"

"I lived her for years, I never heard of her. Or anyone, really. Not much human contact"

"How come?"

"When I was here, I was living on the streets. A thief, mostly"

"Me too"

The street was busy, people going this way and that, on with their lives. Varrock was vibrant, this side of the city. It was a more jolly side, still slumland, but a slightly richer place, where there was always free fruit to go round, neighbours helped neighbours. Markus wished he had lived her, even as an outsider. He had been in his own, hellish slum so long he didn't ever leave, because he felt it was his home. Taking the first step outside Varrock, chasing down his destiny, was hard for him. He didn't really know why.

"And you're family, parents?" Erika asked.

"None to remember. All my life, I've been-"

"Alone?"

Markus stopped, for a second, in what appeared to be grief. Never, before, had it hit him this hard.

"Yeah, alone"

"You went to school?"

"No"

"What did you do?"

Markus thought of the orphanage he had been kicked out of, the Zamorakian priest's who had recruited him for the mark on his hands, the people who had shouted at him, been terrified out of him, who had tried to kill him. And somehow, he knew these things were so far from normal that he knew he couldn't tell her. This was the longest conversation he ever had, and he was terrified of terrifying her, of scaring her away.

"I existed. Survived. Kept myself alive"

"Why did you leave?"

"Sorry!?" Markus splurted.

"Varrock. Why go?"

"I....I....Uh, why stay?"

"Point taken"

"Should we go? I think we should go. Lets go"

He stood up, awkwardly quick. Erika rose and followed him as he went.

A Stab In The Right Direction
"I have no idea where the may be" Zed puzzled. "I was thinking, but I have nothing in the proverbial memory bank"

"Proverbial memory bank?" Cara snorted.

The Wizard grumbled, and slumped of the table. He crossed his arms against the cold of the warehouse draft, mumbled some words to humidify the air and protect him from it. He tried to think, but the girl was distracting him. Yes, she could be useful, but right now she was a distraction.

"We could try Gypsy Aris?" Cara suggested.

Zed mentally told her to shut up. He tried to ignore her ramblings, making a plan in his head. 'Think Zed, think. The whole world's depending on you. Reality as we know it could be at stake!'. A week ago, he had been attacked by a man who wielded time as a weapon. That man, once beaten, had said some upsetting things.

Zed, just by being alive, was weakening reality. A weakness that the dark wizards were bent on using for some purpose. That is, if the ravings of a madman are to be believed. Of course, the man believed it; enough to slit his own throat.

"We could use Charlemount's Pulse to detect physic energy" Zed suggested. "Argh, but if any physics were actually interested they would have known we were going to do the spell and would have come her to meet us"

"I know where Gypsy Aris is. And she's cheep"

Zed completely ignored her.

"There is tell of an ancient spell, used to detect black magic. It involves charming a bird and giving it your sight, but we could use to pick up the residual energy coming from the practice of dark arts, though a counter enchantment for the magic is quite common among dark mages"

Cara grabbed Zed by the shoulder and spun him round. "I. Know. A. Way. There. Is. A. Gypsy. Who. Can. Help. Us. Do. You. Understand?"

"Yeah, yeah. But I don't know any spells that can-"

Cara cried out in indignation. "We don't need a spell! She's a business! She advertises, for God's sake!"

"Advertises? Business? That can't be right. I mean, the oracle lives on a mountain! Business.......it's so.....un-physic-y!"

Cara sighed and stalked off, Zed following close behind.

Pizza And Wine
"So, tell me about yourself" said Henry.

The quiet corner of the inn restaurant was lovely, decorative. Serene. A half-finished glass of tonic rested between her beringed fingers, and she could see her warped reflection in the glass, and her mousy brown hair was tied up in those battle-friendly pigtails that were, in her book, a fashion crime.

She wanted to remove the bands that held her hair up like that then and there, but it would look stupid to do so during a drink. Her date, so to speak, was a handsome one: dark brown hair in a traditional warriors cut, a light coating of stubble doused his chiselled jaw.

"Uh, well. Where to start....."

"At the beginning, 's usually good"

She chuckled, just long enough to drag Henry into the laugh, not long enough to look a fool.

"My dad, he's a count. Master crossbowman, thought me allot. I was never quite good with either bow, though. My mum, she's a champion summoner, I took to that more"

Henry nodded his approval. "I saw the minotaur. It was good. And the black weapon, I've never seen anything like it"

Evaire smiled her best smile. "You're not supposed to. It's my mum's creation. I've....edited, but it's still the same"

"How...how did you know about me?" Henry asked. "This information about the leader...a gameplan. What do you have, and how did you get it?"

"My cousin was kidnapped. I have two beasties that can track, and I....when I saw what they were doing to those people....."

Evaire stopped for a second, a thousand moments flashing through her head, the pure horror of slavery and the man against man mentality inside the rigs. Everyone she rescued, wasn't fully rescued. They'd need help, help she couldn't give, to recover from that.

"I got mad. Trashed the place. Tortured a guy into telling me the deal. There's twenty-six slave mines. I've taken out two"

"I got eight"

"So, more than half the mine's remain standing. We could go to each individually, and shut them down; but in that time too many would die. But if we killed the runner, the guy behind this, the money would stop flowing, the guards would just leave. The whole thing would dissolve"

Henry leaned back, approval gleaming from him. "Impressive. How do know about this guy? And, well, who is he? I've been fighting blind without knowing it. I didn't get the big picture"

"My dad's a businessman. I know about this kind of thing, you know, like commerce. These aren't guard-run, it's not economically feasible for the type of workforce involved for them to just trade it in the small bundles that they're mined in, it's a setup by the one guy, who's also running slave crafting stations to turn the ore into weapons that sell for more. Once I figured that, it took just keeping one guy alive to tell me who the setup's run by"

"So who?"

"Well, that's the thing. This guy covered his tracks. He has different people collect and give the money every time, so they don't know. If we want to trace this to him, we'll have to follow the people-which isn't easy, seeing as it's done at the grand exchange, where millions of trade's happen ever day"

"Wouldn't it be easy to spot, though, with them carrying carts of ore? I mean, it'd stand out"

Evaire nodded. "I know. They go to local banks and trade it into paper instead. It's well done"

"Couldn't we stake out the banks then?"

"No, there's too many without hiring a giant workforce"

"Well damn. What do we do?"

"We go there and try our luck. There'll be loads of gold involved, so it shouldn't be impossible to spot. We can follow the note collector"

Henry smiles at her. "Sounds...like a plan"

Not A Start, But Rather, The End Of A Beginning
Erika's life was going to hell. Her guild had been ruthlessly slaughtered, her boyfriend was missing, presumed dead, and now she was on a vicious vengeance mission with a complete stranger. The worst thing of all, she was enjoying it. This kid, she didn't even know his name. She liked him. She had nothing left, maybe she was just clinging to her savior.

The tent was full of pink and purple, extravagant to the extreme. Flags, demonic symbols and glyphs garnished the top. A rugged man stormed out of the tent in a huff. He tried to barge past Markus, but the teenager stood his ground, and the man bounced off and staggered back.

"Wuh?" he said, confused, but immediately dismissed it and walked angrily around him. He stomped into the crowd, furious. Erika leaned closer to Markus.

"What's with him?"

"He didn't like the future she read for him. He wanted something happier, something he doesn't deserve"

"How do you know that?"

"Hey look, it's our turn"

The two teenagers walked together to the tent, Markus holding the flap up for her. She ducked inside, and gasped at what she saw.

The inside of the tent was pitch black, no light penetrated the deep fabric. The only light came from a lone candle, which sat atop a long table. Around it were objects Erika presumed were used for seeing, though they were covered in cloth. Barely illuminated by the ghostly light, sitting atop a dark-enshrouded chair, was the Gypsy Queen herself.

She was thin, and had a malnourished appearance because her wrinkled skin hung limply from her bones. The candlelight cast shadows upon her face, so Erika was not sure which was true expression and what was simply a trick of the light. As the gypsy spoke, her dry lips did not match the words.

"You have come to seek my services" she said, her voice croaked with age. "For a mere ten gold pieces, I shall lift the veil that clouds your futures, and reveal what lies ahead"

Markus tossed a small navy pouch through the air, and either through excellent aim on his part or premeditation on hers, it landed right in her left hand. Gypsy Aris nodded her head for them to come forward. Markus gave Erika a light push, telling her that she should go first.

Erika took a shaky step forward, then another. The dark tent scared her, and she didn't want to be any closer to the strange old woman then was absolutely necessary.

"My friend, Carter. Can you tell me where he is?"

The gypsy was silent, but with a vivid hand flourish, she whipped away a cloth and revealed a gleaming, round crystal. Eyes closed in fierce concentration, she rested her hands on it, gently brushing her forefinger and thumb around the rim. Erika held her breath. Gypsy Aris shook her head.

"No"

Erika was heartbroken. "No? You can't find him?"

"My crystal is useless. It is being obscured by something. I cannot discern what"

Markus sighed. "Let me guess, the wrath of the wrath?"

The Gypsy gasped, and with a second flourish, removed the cloth round a small, plain chalice. She swished it, and Erika heard the slight frothing on the tips of her ears. The Gypsy Queen brought her lips to the cup, but did not drink: she whispered five words instead.

"The wrath of the wrath"

She took a look inside the chalice, and nodded. She turned to Markus.

"Well done champion. All day, my crystal has been shrouded. Something, some being of huge universal importance was blocking my view. It was too big for me to see it clearly without a name! Tell me, champion, how did you learn the name?"

Markus replied "The Oracle told me"

"The Oracle? A genius being, immortal and of great power. She surely knows more than me?"

"She said only you knew the answer to my question, but you could not answer until I dealt with the wrath of the wrath"

"I wonder, champion, if she was merely steering you to where you needed to go? At any rate, the wrath of the wrath needs to be dealt with. Are you the one to do it?"

"I am. I've gone to extraordinary measures to find the answer, and no wrath will stop me when I'm this close"

Gypsy Aris turned to Erika. "And you, girl? You should know, your future is tied with his. Will you help defeat the wrath of the wrath?"

Erika felt uneasy with those ancient eyes staring at her, and she asked "What would that entail?"

The Gypsy Queen laughed for the first time since the two teenagers had entered the tent. "Let's see, shall we?" She leaned to her lone candle, and blew it out.

For a moment there was darkness, and then Erika's neck snapped back. She felt herself becoming taut, as if invisible hooks were pulling her up by the chin and arms. Before she could have time to question anything, an unholy wind filled the tent, the deafening roar drowning out her thoughts.

All of a sudden, the strings that held her suspended snapped, and the wind sent her skidding backwards towards the tent flap. Erika shrieked, the wind blew her long hair into her face, twisted it around her neck. She flew into Markus' arms. He wrapped himself around her, kept her from sprawling to the floor.

Though the wind became so ungodly that Markus' cloak fluttered faster then Erika's racing heart, he was steady and sturdy, and she buried her face into his cloak to escape the clawing of the wind. She knew he would protect her, that she was safe. But the wind was so loud and so strong, she felt fear wash over her. She closed her eyes and did whatever she did when she was terrified: thought of Carter.

Instead of his face, though, there was only Markus.

Erika was jarred by the realisation. She pulled out of Markus' arms, much to his surprise. But there was such strength flowing through her, he knew she didn't need him.

Erika was sick with herself. Had she given up on Carter already? No. She dug her heels into the dirt floor of the tent to fight the wind, and walked forward through the darkness.

"Aris!" she cried. "What are you doing!?"

Light erupted from in front of her face, and Erika held her sleeve in front of her eyes. The light dimmed quickly, and it was the Gypsy Queen's skin:it glowed fiercely. She rose, hovering several feet in the air.

"Fools" she spat. "You dare defy me?"

Erika was about to reason with her, but Markus gripped the sleeve of her blue top. She looked back to him, and he pointed to the corner. Thick, vicious shadows were seeping like smoke, merging into one, semi-translucent form. The shadow-smoke became a figure, stooped and bent with age. In its hands was a shadowy dagger.

It came for Gypsy Aris, slowly, as if wading through water. Erika realised the Gypsy Queen's light was keeping it at bay, or at least slowing it's progress. Aris clenched her fist.

"Fear my wrath!" she screeched.

A flash of light rained down upon the figure, physically striking it and dispelling it's form. The Gypsy Queen flicked her hand, and the shadow-smoke was cast from her. It clutched at Erika, snatching her hair to try and stay. Erika grabbed the stuff and threw it from her.

It connected with Markus, smacking him to the floor. It tangled up in him, desperate to stay. The shadow-smoke gripped him tightly, choking him. Markus tried to pull it from him, but his fingers slipped through it even as it wrapped round his throat.

The cloaked boy writhed with the shadows, as the two wrestled. Markus twisted to his knees and gasped, as Erika ran to help him. Her fingers gripped the shadows, and she pulled. It released easy, but latched onto her shoulder, A fist quickly formed, and reeled back. It flew for her face.

Markus grabbed the shadowy arm with one of his own, and with the other, punched it so hard it exploded. It sifted through the air, gone.

"How did it do that to you?" Erika asked. "It could barely touch me"

Markus looked up to her. "It effects me more, because there's darkness in my heart" he wanted to say. Instead, his lips said "Duh.....dunno"

The light came back, the wind died, and Gypsy Aris fell. Her face hit the table with a smack, and she slid back, leaving a streak of blood.

The Stealer Is Born
Moments passed on, and Gypsy Aris didn't rise. Markus walked slowly to wards her. Erika was numb. After all that had happened, she didn't know quite how to feel. Markus was calm, controlled. She decided to force the emotions down, to deal with later. Now was time for action.

Markus hopped back as The Gypsy Queen rose. Her hair breads had been slackened, so her hair was loose and unattractive. Blood streaked from her nose up to her forehead from her smack of the table. Her lip was curled, tears flowed down her cheeks. Erika couldn't see the ferocity in her eyes, instead, there was only a frail, weak woman.

Gypsy Aris was blubbering. "He has me, he sees me! He sees me! The Wrath! He...sees..."

She collapsed on to the table, still babbling. Emergency emanated from Markus as he rushed to her.

"A name, Aris, a name!"

But she ignored him, and kept babbling. "He...sees....me.....he'll.....see"

Markus grabbed the Gypsy by the shoulders, and pushed her up to face him. She tried to fight him, trashing and wriggling, but he held her tight. She started screaming.

"Look at me" Markus said, calmingly. "Look at me, look at me. See me"

She stopped, and stared at him, calm and eyes wide. "All of it, happened to someone else. Not you. It's just a story"

"Just a story" she echoed.

"Tell me the story, Aris. Tell me the story"

The Gypsy hesitated for a second. But then she started. Her voice was horribly empty.

"Dark men, black wizards, using a tear, in the world, to....to....summon a demon. At the stone circle, south of here. So close. And...and"

"A name, Aris"

"D....D....De....Del..."

"Come on now!"

"Delrith" she whispered.

Markus jumped back and ducked as blood exploded from her mouth. Erika screamed. Aris looked like she might topple, but she pulled herself up with the table. She stood, tall and proud, back to her old self.

"Aris, what's"

Markus held out a hand, out from his shoulder, a clear indication that Erika was to come no closer.

"This, this isn't Aris. This is the same as what stole Carter. This is a Stealer"

The Short Second Life Of Gypsy Aris
The Stealer cocked it's head, and looked at Markus. He looked at it, eyes full of hostility. Over his shoulder, it saw Erika, face full of confusion.

"I don't-"

"The physics, Erika. Delrith, they become his embodiment on this plane of life. They become his Stealers, they are to find those who weaken the world, so that the ritual may commence"

"What are you.....how do know this stuff?"

Markus motioned to Aris. "It's right on her face. Her cursed skin, her infected mind, reeks of the truth"

The Stealer swung a wrecking-ball fist at Markus, but he ducked under the blow. He had a strange black blade that The Stealer didn't remember him drawing, and he stabbed the blade up through the back of her neck. The blade tip carved a path through the skull, emerging from the nose. Blood crescented it. Erika gasped.

And then, the Stealer let out a bloodcurdling scream. It came from deep within it's lungs, and Erika clutched her ears in pain. She took a step back as the pure, undiluted soul of the Stealer came at her with such force it drove her to tears. Any doubts that she had about this not being the sentience of all evil vanished when she heard that scream.

Silence erupted into the moments that ensued. Like a flame eats up all the oxygen, it seemed the danger and drama had burnt itself up. All that was left was the chilling silence that came with the end.

But this was not the end.

No,

This was a very short reprieve.

Because, in the seconds that followed the silence, the whole tent was filled with a single roar:

"ARIS!!!!!!!"

The Fight Ignites
Henry shouldered through the tent flap, sword drawn, readied for action. He saw the cloaked figure, blade through the Gypsy Queen's head. Drawn to the scream like a moth to a flame, he saw, quite clearly, the crime. Murder.

The figure, the murderer, the scumbag. The absolute scumbag. Just like-

Just like the one-

Just like the one who-

Who-

Henry roared as he brought the blade down upon guy. Instead of trying to defend himself, the guy just sank down, so that Henry's blade chunked harmlessly into the desk. Henry tore it out with a grunt and swung it violently. Again, the guy sank below the blade, gripping the white clothe that sat atop the table and pulling it, all the implements that the late Gyspy Aris had used crashing into him. Something sharp dug into his chest and something blunt and heavy smacked into his nose, sending him spinning. A sharp boot dug into his back, sending him stumbling through the tent flap.

As he flapped into the light, his cheeks stung: a small crowd had gathered, and to them, it must have looked like he had fled. Well, he'd soon put them right. He spun back to the tent, sword carving a path threw the air. He's slice the scumbag in half!

The next thing he knew, he was on the floor, blood-his blood-on his face. He gave a groan, and looked up. The scumbag, hood down, (he was much younger then Henry had first thought, not much older than seventeen) was standing right in front. His face...his face-

His face was full of pure hatred, all of it directed at Henry.

Henry got up, leaning heavily on his arm. He didn't know where his sword was. The kid swung a fist. Henry sent a powerful arm to stop the attack, but the fist batted his arm aside and-

BANG.

And Henry was stumbling back, trying to right himself, but before he could-

BANG.

And Henry swung wildly of balance, almost falling-

BANG.

And Henry's falling, but before he can even hit the ground- BANG.

And then the kid is on him, throwing fist after fist at his face, blood covering his eyes.

BANG, BANG, BANG.

The smooth rhythm of pain was interrupted only by the soft twang of Evaire's arrows, her desperate attempts to save him, and the sharp snap that followed as his assailant caught and broke them.

Markus wasn't punching at Henry, he was punching at the world.

BANG.

That was for killing his parents.

BANG.

That was for the orphanage.

BANG.

That was for the priests.

BANG.

That was for the stupid goddam mark!

BANG.

That was for the sleepless nights.

BANG.

That was for Emily.

Shit. He went and thought it.

Emily.

He froze, mid punch, lost in memories he had long tried to lock up.

BANG.

Crowd Control
As the scream tore the through the air, it chilled Zed to the bone. For Cara, who was used to such screams in her line of work, it set her on red alert. Her mind became focused on one thing: the hunt. The hunt for the one who would make someone scream so.

"Come one" was all she said, all she needed to say, because it told Zed everything he needed to know in the way she said it. Someone had screamed, they were going to save them.

Cara was running at speed, and after a few seconds she was far ahead of Zed, who had never needed to run much in his lifetime. She sped ahead, following the scream that was only now dying in her superhuman ears.

But she missed something Zed picked up:

The streets were dead.

Completely empty.

Cara crossed the line where the darkness gave into the sharply contrasting light of the fountain courtyard, and was lost to Zed's sight. Only when he had passed this line himself could he see the crowd; half of Varrock had gathered into a single crowd. Zed teleported to Cara's side instantly, tugging her hand to let her know he was there.

From his cloak he drew a spyglass. He placed the eyepiece by his lips and whispered

"Inoculais satina"

And the spyglass whirled and clicked for a few seconds, before Zed looked through it. He nodded for a moment and tossed the spyglass to Cara, who though wasn't paying attention caught it on the tips of her fingers. She looked through it, and saw immediately what there was to be seen.

The Spyglass, of Zed's own creation, showed alignment, if one was good, evil, or not particularly inclined to either, it would show them in a particular colour. People, the crowd, were a transparent blue. On the floor, being ruthlessly beaten, was a man, a more goldenly colour. And his assailant....was as black as death.

"So, the guy in black?" she asked.

"The black is dark magic"

"So he's with them, the wizards of the -"

"Yes, go. Don't kill him, he's our only lead"

Cara spun away from him to the crowd. As she disappeared, Zed called out "Good luck".

And Cara plunged in, spidering her way through the crowd, slipping between the slightest gaps that fell 'twixt people. She lay her hands upon the backs and shoulders of those in her way, giving the slightest push to clear a path through the tiring mass of people. And as they encompassed her, crushed in on all sides, she began to breath deeper.

As the waves of people moved, she breathed deeper. She felt as if they were closing in on her, suffocating her, she couldn't breath, she couldn't move, couldn't think. She needed to get out.

Now.

She ran, ploughing through people like an angry bull, shoving them aside harder, harder, harder, all the time becoming more and more desperate to get out, to breath. Just when she felt like she could take it no longer-

She was free.

Without slowing, she ran full speed at the figure in the black cloak, beating the life out of some guy. He didn't notice her, he just kept up the rhythm of constant punches, a cycle of loud smacks, until she collided with him with a BANG.

The Crowd Gets It's Show
BANG. Markus was thrown off the man, sent rolling across the pavement. He swung the momentum upwards, rolling to his feet, ready to fight. His attacker was a girl. Pretty. Just a bit older than him, blond. He'd have thought himself capable of taking her down in a heartbeat, but her thoughts revealed her as a Slayer.

Markus was having a really bad day. He didn't need this right now.

She swung a punch, a slow, deliberate arc, meant only as a testing blow. She wasn't going hard just yet, and he would take advantage. He brought his foot up to connect with the blow, toe striking the inside of her arm and rendering the punch useless. Without touching his foot off the ground, he bent his knee and lashed out with all his force, striking her in the side of the nose. She was on the floor in seconds, her blood across Markus' face.

She roared, running up to him and striking with drunken anger. An angry mind is an unkempt mind, and unkempt minds are easy to read. Her thoughts practically jumped at him, broadcasting her every move before she even made it. He fell back, arms a blur in complicated motions that blocked her ferocious onslaught.

His feet moved him constantly backwards, not because her attack was forcing him, but because he wanted to keep moving to avoid the arrows. The girl, she was the only resistance from a crowd of people to his attack. He began to regret what he did, because it wasn't necessary; what his attacker did wasn't terrible under the circumstances, he saw what he thought was murder, and decided to-

Murder the murderer. Maybe he wasn't all that innocent after all, maybe he got we he deserved, maybe

CRACK. She got a fist in.

Maybe he should stop thinking about the goddam past and start goddam fighting this goddam bitch!

As he ducked a vicious punch, he saw that the Varrock fountain was a few feet behind him. She though she had him cornered. She was wrong.

She aimed a killer punch at Markus, swinging her whole weight with is, and Markus slid sideways, tripping her as she went. She clattered against the fountain basin with a smack and suddenly Markus was there, lifting her by the hair to slam her face of the stone, but she spun and punched away his arm.

She readied another attack, but before she could even swing Markus cracked into her temple, sending her falling against the stone basin. And Markus was on her again, hands round her throat, thrusting her head under the water. And she was bracing against him, fighting to keep her head from the fountain, her hair just touching the surface.

Markus shoved, harder, squeezing her throat to keep the air from her lungs and make her weaker. He pushed, and watched her frantic eyes, which were pulsing with panic. And there was a slight sizzle and a bow of thunder, before the water erupted into foam.

And the crowd jumped as the fountain's water leaped high into the air from the lightning bolt, and Markus turned his head and saw the attacker. A man, too far away to describe features, standing atop a market stalls to get a line of shot above the crowd. He was charging his staff, readying another bolt of lightning.

Markus took one hand from the girl's throat, searching her body for a weapon, and pushing madly down with his other hand to keep her subdued. And he found something, something light and sharp, and without checking what it was he lined up the distance between him and his target and he threw it.

The dagger whisked through the air, hissing as it cut the empty space in two. The dagger slit Zed's hand, the staff dropped to the ground. There was a flash as the lighting was unleashed, a crack as the stall split, and a loud crash and rumble as it collapsed underneath him.

Before the girl could break free, Markus clasped his free hand back to her throat, the momentum carrying her head all of the way under the water. Seconds went on, as her eyes bulged and throat burned. She thrashed and thrashed and thrashed and Markus' heat sang for her, and even as she began to loose consciousness, he thought

Could I kill her? Really?

But he wouldn't have to answer, because an arrow punched it's way through his chest and tear his life away.

Overreaction?
"Bitch!" Erika spat, and Evaire turned round, surprised. The blond haired girl struck the brunette across the face with the back of her fist. Evaire went down. She lashed out with her fist...

And missed.

The thief gave Evaire a brutal kick to the face. Erika grabbed and slammed her next to the market stall that the nobleman's daughter had used as cover. She punched Evaire once, twice, three times before she through her back into it.

"You killed him!" Erika spat. "You killed Markus!"

"What is he to you?" Erika sounded, with defiance. It earned her a kick to the face.

"He was trying, trying to help me, and you just rush in, rush in and attack, rush in and kill him! Monsters"

Evaire shook her head. "No. It's not like that. If Henry was attacking, then I attack. If you trust anyone, you trust Henry"

"Markus has been nothing but good, all that I've known him!"

"How long have you known him?"

"Well, a day" Erika admitted.

"You think a day is long enough know someone well enough to fight for him? To kill for him?"

Erika paused for a moment, but only that.

"Everything I had collapsed, and he's here, picking up the pieces for me. He barely knows me. He's done all he's done for a complete stranger. How-"

Evaire got her with the knife.

And The Tables Turn And Turn
Suddenly, Cara was free from his deathly grip. She pushed up, getting her head above the water to air, glorious air, and then she up and ready to fight again. But the fight was over.

Her attacker, the kid, was on his knees, an arrow through his chest. And he was staring at it, pressing his hands against the wound, and his expression stung her face. Because it said

''Now? When I'm so close, now? It's...so...unfair.''

And it was like his thoughts were pouring into her, thoughts so innocent yet twisted and good but corrupted that she had to make them stop. And so she punched him across the face, so hard that his skull snapped into the concrete floor of the courtyard. He lay there, clearly dying. And Cara, for the first time, felt like a murderer, not a victor.

But then he pulled the arrow from his chest with a pained gasp, and he stabbed her in the calf. Cara felt a blur of pain and surprise as she fell against the fountain ledge. He got to his feet, faster then he should have been able with his injury, and he ran, actually ran, after being on the ground dying just moments before, he slammed into her and took them both over the edge.

They wrestled underwater, grasping and clutching and slamming and pulling and desperately trying to get their heads above water whilst trying to get their opponent to drown. However it was on the ground, out here they were nearly equals.

Together they writhed in desperate pins and elegant locks. Cara went in with a throat slam, and the boy responded with a Russian leg lock, and she writhed under the water, wrapping her leg round his neck for a Massissurri choke.

He prised off her leg and twisted it, into the Keenof wheel of pain, and he wrenched so hard she nearly cried out underwater. But instead she lashed out, grabbed his wrist with her left hand and placed her right palm just before his elbow. But before she could perform the Enzinguri to snap his arm, he looked her in the eyes.

The word STOP leaped into her mind, jarred her thoughts. She released the arm. The boy was smirking. He looked at her again, deep into her eyes.

BREATH

Cara took in a breath without meaning too, and water flooded into her mouth, down her throat, deep into her lungs, and she broke above the water and spluttered, and breathed one, glorious breath before the kid rose and punched her back into the water.

And then the lightning came again, and it stung even her. Cara thanked Zed as the kid shook with pain. Electricity arced through him over and over again, burning his skin. She saw him let in a gaping amount of water, and he rose. She pressed her only advantage, jumping him.

The next thing new, he had her pinned to the fountain wall, blade to her throat. There was a slight pop, like the universe rushing in on itself, and suddenly Zed was there, atop the fountain wall, coming for her. With one controlled kick, the kid sent him sprawling to the ground.

"You move, she dies. Slowly"

Zed got the message, and he lay there, motionless. Cara sensed the kid was about to speak, but before he could-

"You bastard. You little slimy bastard"

Cara turned her head as much as the blade by her throat would allow-which wasn't much-and saw him. The guy the kid had been pulverizing, stood tall now, armed with a fearsome blade. His face was battered, left eye swollen and nose clearly broken. But still he stood.

"You move" the kid said, and there was an element of something in his voice. Like fear, but not quite. "She dies". She. Her. Cara.

"She's not mine " the man said. Cara's opinion of him dropped considerably.

"She'll still die. Blood on your hands"

"The blood will fall on you alone if you kill her"

"Don't make me-"

"Screw you. She's not my girl, not my problem" Cara's opinion of him hit rock bottom.

"That's not your girl" said a new voice, female and firm. "But I think this is"

And everyone turned to see Erika, holding a knife to Evaire's throat.

Henry made to move, but Erika echoed Markus' words:

"You move, she dies. Slowly"

Negotiations
Glenn pushed past the remainder of the crowd to the courtyard. People gave the fighters plenty of room, and then he saw why. Gods...Markus, standing inside a fountain with a blade to the throat of a blond girl. An armed man, sword drawn, face battered. A weak man, crumpled on the floor. A blond girl, knife to the throat of a brunette"

"Markus!" Glenn shouted.

"Glenn!" Markus resounded. "Thank the Gods, we need help"

"What's going on? Glenn asked. "What are you doing to her?" he motioned to the blond haired girl with a knife to her throat.

"This girl attacked me_"

"After you pulverized him-"

"After he attacked me-"

"After you murdered Gypsy Aris-"

"After she became a Stealer-"

"A Stealer?" the man on the floor asked.

All eyes turned to him for a moment, and he picked himself up off the floor self-consciously.

"Stealer?"

"The embodiment of a demon's will on earth" Markus nodded. "Delrith's Stealer"

The blond gasped, and then rasped as the blade cut a little bit into her throat.

"Delrith? You're with Delrith?"

Markus shook his head. "No. We're going to take him down"

"We?" Henry asked

"Me" Markus said, "And Erika, and Glenn, if he'll come"

Cara spoke up. "And me, if he is your enemy. That's my goal"

"Then we're on the same side?"

"Then we are"

Markus took the blade from her throat and nodded. "You try and attack me, I'll kill you. Fair?"

"Fair"

"I'm not sure that's wise" Zed said

Markus motioned to Henry. "And of you? What is your part in this?"

"None" Henrh said. "We're tracking down a slave mine operation. I heard the scream. I saw you murder-"

"The thing that killed Aris" Markus said, stepping up to Henry. "Erika, let the girl go. Now, if you think I'm a murderer, kill me. But look me in the eyes when you do it. I can see you've killed. But have you ever killed an innocent?"

Henry didn't stab him, but he didn't put the sword away, either.

"I don't understand this...any of this"

Glenn stepped in. "Yeah! What's going on?"

"Will you tell them?" said Zen to Markus "Or will I?"

"You have a try"

"A demon, Delrith, of incredible power and calibre, is trying to rip its way into our plane. As it does, it snaps the minds of physics, turning them into powerful servants. Certain people, with certain words, at a certain time, with a certain sacrifice, in a certain place will bring him to this word. We know the time, the words, and the people-but not the place or sacrifice, so we can't find and stop him"

Erika spoke up "We know the place. The stone circle south of Varrock"

And then everyone went quiet. Seconds passed. Than minutes.

Markus spoke:

"Erika, let the girl go"

He himself let Cara go, and Erika soon let Evaire go.

"Listen" he said to them all. "I'm going to stop Delrith. With or without your help. Will you be fighting beside me, or simply fighting me?"

"With you" Cara said.

Henry spoke up: "Me and Evaire, we have our own problems. We can't be pitching in to help with yours"

Markus shrugged. "Fine"

Zed looked to Markus:

"So now, we all band together to tackle the impossible odds and the unstoppable forces of darkness that oppose the world, and through many trials and tribulations and overcomings of our own shortcomings via banding together we somehow face and defeat this evil in a high octane and climactic battle?"

"You got anything against that?"

"It's so...typical. So cliché. I almost couldn't"

"Almost"

"Of course I will. It is of universal importance, and if they do manage to get the portal ripped open, you'll need me to close it"

"So" Henry said. "Universal importance?"

Markus smiled. "Oh, nothing, I'm sure, compared to illegal mining. Just...apocalyptic"

"How do you know about-"

"I just do"

Zed looked at him, distrustfully "Of course. There's so much you haven't told us...including your name"

"I'm Markus"

"Really?" said Zed. "Are you sure"

This bothered Markus. "Listen, I'm trying to do the best, to do the right thing"

Zed responded "I saw the darkness in you, Markus. It emanates from you like fire"

"And?"

"You're really trying to tell me that with all that darkness, you're good? That you're not Evil"

"I'm trying to do the best, to do the right thing"

"That's not an answer"

"Than I guess you don't get one" he turned away from Zed. "Come on, anyone that's coming, come. We're late to our own apocalypse"