An Unknown Location in Western Misthalin
Time and Date Also Unknown
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Both the bright sun and the white moon looked down upon the river Lum, their gaze only shielded by the outstretched branches of several majestic yew trees. Under these yews, the hooded stranger kneeled beside the injured woman. The child had stopped crying, and was venturing around his new environment.
“You and your son are safe now,” soothed the mysterious man. “Your child did not suffer any injuries from the blast. He will be fine. You however...” The man paused briefly. “I'm sorry, but I'm not as wise in medicine as I am in magic. The blast was too strong. There's nothing I can do for you at this point. Your time is short.”
“Th, Thank you for saving me. What exactly was that loud bang?”
“Those knights were experimenting with several compounds, some of them being explosive. Altogether it created a blast strong enough to destroy the foundations of the White Knight's Castle.”
“Oh no, my, my husband. He caused all...” She could not finish her sentence, for wooden shrapnel buried in her chest stopped her.
“That blast was not the fault of your husband, but instead the knights. In fact, if they had never brought you to their fortress, the explosion and all of this would have never happened.” The woman breathed heavily in the cool shade, her time on Gielinor fading fast. “Listen, there's something about your child. He's going -”
“- to be a great warrior someday,” the woman replied. “I know, the seer told me.”
“Yes, but there's more to it. He's not going to be just be a warrior, he's -”
“- I know.... unh!” And with that, the woman gasped her last breath, rolled over, curled up, and died. The man stood up and looked down on her corpse, scratching his head. He had a spade nearby, and began to dig a grave for the fallen woman. After several minutes of unearthing dirt, he lifted the body into the freshly dug hole. He proceeded to bury her, but his spade broke as he lifted the first scoop of dirt back into the hole.
“Curses!” he muttered. Tossing the pieces of the broken tool aside, he concentrated his mind on the dirt, lifting the soil back into the hole using a magic spell. The dirt obeyed him and went back into the hole, returning the patch of grass to a state similar to the one it was in before he came here. “I really should have just used magic in the first place,” he muttered to himself. “Magic is always more efficient.” He arranged a few stones on the patch of ground into the shape of Saradomin's symbol, something the woman may have liked. He then dusted himself off, picked up his staff, and looked around for the child.
“Where did that young boy run off to?”
Indeed, the child had disappeared from sight, having no care for his now deceased mother. The cloaked man scanned the area, moving up river as he looked. He entered the edge of a clearing and noticed the child playing in the shallows of the nearby river. The man smiled, but then quickly ducked behind a tree, for the child was not alone.
“You look a little lonely eh? You also look like you're hungry and hurt.” A tall man was talking to the child. He wielded an enormous sword and appeared to be missing a finger on his left hand. “Oi, Matthew! There's a lone child over here.” The rest of the tall man's group walked into the clearing. They immediately took a liking to the child and started playing with him and asking him questions. The elders of the group took interest in the child as others began to set up camp along the river's shore. The hooded man watched from a distance.
“Well Arrav, it seems you have found your new family. May you grow strong during your childhood. May you bring peace to this land and defend the people from their attackers.” The man glanced at the destined child one last time before quietly moving away.