Shadows of a Lost Mind, Chapter 35

Chapter Thirty-Five

Initially, Azzanadra wanted to laugh. Send them back to Freneskae? That was just absolute nonsense. But then Guthix continued to speak.

"Gielinor has been plagued by your warlike ways for long enough," the god said. "It would be best now for you to return to your own world, where such behavior will not destroy civilizations."

Kharshai stepped forward, his expression solemn. "Considering that you've just murdered our last hope of survival, what good will it do us to stay here?"

Azzanadra wasn't about to let that pass. "No one here killed Enakhra."

"Perhaps not directly," Kharshai said, "but I hold you all responsible. It is this petty fight that led to her death, and you have all contributed."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Zamorak said. "This 'petty fight' has been going on since the second age and has involved hundreds of thousands of people. Why single us out now?"

His air quotes were possibly the most sarcastic thing Azzanadra had seen since the aforementioned second age.

"I am not singling you out," Guthix replied. His tone was steady but there was a spark of anger building in his eyes, and Azzanadra didn't want to know what was going to happen when that spark built up to a flame. "Even you cannot possibly argue that you are not the perpetrators of this offense."

Zamorak shrugged. "I plead unjust oppression."

"You weren't oppressed," Azzanadra snapped.

"That's arguable, but I didn't say that I was mistreated party."

"Why would we even want to go back?" Zemouregal interrupted.

"I do not care what you want," Guthix said sharply. "You have no say in this matter. It is for the benefit of the people of Gielinor, not your own."

"Banishing me would not be a benefit to the people of Gielinor," Zaros said, his voice so full of anger that it resounded unpleasantly off the walls of the alley. "They require a higher power than themselves to move them forward. Left to their own devices, they devolve into chaos, anarchy, and aggressive behavior."

"Which makes them stronger," Zamorak said. Then he realized which side he had accidentally argued for and added, "But hey, you know, higher powers can be good too."

Guthix held up a hand, the gesture a very clear signal. Everyone fell silent.

"None of this is important," he said. "I have made up my mind. Now, where are the rest of you?"

Azzanadra was beginning to get fed up with Guthix's sweeping generalizations of the Mahjarrat. It seemed that the god was just lumping them all together, as though none of them maybe had different behaviors or intentions. Maybe that was true of some of them, but Azzanadra didn't feel as though he deserved to be tossed into the mix like that. He had done lots of things that benefited the humans. He had stood at the forefront of Zaros's empire and been the beacon that the humans had aspired to reach, and now Guthix wanted to ship him off like some common criminal.

Unfortunately, before he could say anything to illuminate his point of view, Zamorak had jumped back in and taken control of the conversation.

"How are we supposed to know where everyone is?" he asked. "It's not like we keep a list."

Guthix frowned. "With this war that you have been starting, I would assume that you have deployed your troops in some strategic manner. Do not presume to fool me into thinking that you are entirely uninformed."

"We might have some luck at Zemouregal's fortress in the north," Kharshai said. "That is where I found them before, and I shouldn't think that they've moved just yet."

Guthix didn't reply to that, just looked calculatingly at Zamorak as though waiting for confirmation.

Zamorak stared back, one eyebrow slightly raised.

There was a long pause.

"Alright," Guthix said. "We shall head north."

---

Zamorak was the god of chaos, master of revolution, lord of patternless battle. He had whirled through an uncountable number of battlefields, somehow traversing the frenzy of combatants with an ease and vigor that put all others to shame.

The manic uproar that they discovered at Zemouregal's fortress had him reeling with shock.

"What the hell is going on here?" he roared, attempting to make himself heard over the sounds of siege.

Beside him, Zemouregal was staring in open-mouthed horror at the catapults that were flinging flaming rocks against the walls of his sanctuary and didn't answer.

Guthix turned a steely gaze toward Zamorak. "Is this your doing?"

Zamorak gaped at him. "Is this…?" He flailed his arms in the general direction of the battle, then realized that wasn't going to get him anywhere and pointed toward his own expressive face. "Do I look like I was expecting this?"

"I warned you, Zamorak," Kharshai said, his arms folded across his chest in a manner that announced his disappointment. "I told you that senseless battle would come of this petty grievance, but you refused to heed me."

Zamorak huffed an annoyed sigh. "Why do you all keep calling this 'petty'? It's not like we're squabbling over who gets to play in the sandbox."

"You may as well be," Guthix replied coolly. "Are any of you able to enlighten me as to who exactly it is that has gathered this army?"

Giving up on arguing word choice — he was right, but it's not like he would convince Guthix of that — Zamorak looked out over the troops. They seemed to be an awkward collection of Elite Black Knights, ice demons, a handful of Dagon'Hai mages, and throughout all that a sprinkling of undead who looked thoroughly uninterested in what they were doing. Somehow, when clumped together, they actually formed a somewhat intimidating army and seemed to be doing a fair job of laying siege to the fortress. The flaming catapults were probably helping with that.

"Yes, actually," he said. "I think I can name the perpetrator with a decent amount of certainty."

"Lucien," Zemouregal said.

Zamorak scowled at him. "Way to steal my punchline."

"Maybe you should have just said it to begin with, then."

"Lucien is behind this?" Guthix asked.

Zamorak decided right then that redundant questions were his new largest pet peeve. "Yes," he replied crossly, "I believe we just established that."

"And who is defending the fortress?"

Zamorak lifted an eyebrow at the older god. "No one. We're all out here."

Guthix raised his arm, pointing toward the battlefield with an air of majestic deliberation. "That is false. I must assume Lucien's troops are not fighting one another."

"I wouldn't say that's an entirely sound assumption," Zamorak muttered, but turned his attention back toward the battle spread out below them. When he saw what Guthix was indicating, his hope of somehow emerging blameless from the debacle was firmly quenched.

The opposing forces were comprised largely of Kalgerion demons.

"Bill," he said with a sigh. "Bill is defending the fortress."