Fist of Zamorak

Chapter 10

We alternated between walking and jogging, so as to minimize time and maximize our stamina. Rovasco and I continued to talk about the days before the Mokif tragedy. We had a laugh on how Rovasco couldn't even wield a sword properly. Although he admits he still can't, I refuse to believe that. To what I remember, Rovasco was always more of mind and less of strength.

"According to legend, this was the first bridge to span across water. It is made of a very rare stone called Cholay. It has two stone towers at the end of the bridge which are said to be visible only to the wise. The smaller towers along the bridge resemble Gothic architecture..."

I noticed the spider web of cables strung from tower to tower and they held the roadbed high above the water.

Rovasco continued, "It is strikingly beautiful, particularly when the sun goes down behind it!"

It was quite a long time that we had been continuously walking down the bridge. We could experience fatigue gripping our spine and our bodies drenched in sweat.

Soon Rovasco opted that we should slow down and replenish our selves. I was waiting for this since a very long time.

Rovasco untied his backpack and removed two glass vials that contained a pink colored drink. Rovasco apprehended the next words that would come from my mouth and responded, "Energy potions. Drink it"

We tried drinking the energy potion- yes, TRIED. The pink liquid had frozen completely and it wouldn't leave the vial. The food that Rovasco had brought along became hard as metal.

"Now, what? It's so compact that even the sharks would refuse to eat it."

Rovasco smiled, took some time to examine everything and proudly leaned forward, "The pillars are here for a reason, with some sort of magic in it. That's the reason the edible became inedible."

Rovasco walked towards the sides of the broad bridge and I followed him. He opened the vial and threw it in the water below. Surprisingly the liquid was no longer frozen and it smoothly escaped the vial. Rovasco looked back at me with even a bigger smile this time.

Even more tired and disappointed, we kept walking. We both knew there was no giving up. Silence stepped in as none of us spoke much.

The light evening breeze on the bridge caresses ones skin and fills the lungs with soft fragrance. I could feel harmony and quietness all around me. In the stillness of the long evenning one can hear the little waves lapping against the sampans gliding gently below. Now and again a sweet melodious chant rises from somewhere and then gradually vanishes in the quiet atmosphere.

I could see Rovasco convincing himself to walk further, and I knew I would do the same if I had to spend some more time on the bridge. The sight in front of us was still the same- the other end of the bridge was yet not visible.

A few moments passed and suddenly the sound of Rovasco's footsteps ceased. I looked back to find him staring at my left leg, which was sort of invisible. He jogged towards me with astonishment, "We have done it!"  

A thin layer of air stood in front of us, something Rovasco called a portal. We went through it.

We found ourselves at the outskirts of Cysto's Island. Rovasco was yet overwhelmed about Cysto's magical intellect, 

"It was an illusion! The endless bridge is but a myth."

"But the bridge actually does test your determination" I replied.

The Island was much smaller than we imagined, most of it covered by huge dense Eucalyptus trees. Rovasco started moving towards a prairie style hut.

"Erm... Rovasco, we forgot the armor, shield and the sword"

A voice came from behind, "You don't need them"

Across the huge trees, stood a new figure. He had depicted himself as a short middle-aged male, clever-eyed and dignified, dressed in quainted snake-skin armor. His skin was darker than any glancing touch of the sun could produce, a color that reminded me of a warm late-autumn day with my family.

I stood next to Rovasco as he shook hands with him. Staring at me he whispered, "The makeover is quite untraceable Zamorak."

He then looked back at Rovasko who was quite surprised, "Ah no Rovasko, Shandhei told me about it. You must be tired, fancy a fresh mixed herb juice?"

"Of course, I heard so much about it from the dwarf last time." Rovasco replied.

We followed Cysto to his hut noticing his patch of fresh herbs and pulses.

I leaned towards Rovasco, "So who is Shanghai?"

"Shandhei, he is an excellent agent and a very old friend. He has practically all the news of the world."

Cysto's hut was remarkably old fashioned, unlike himself . There were wall hangings boasting about his adventures and rewards. He had a magnificent sword kept in a glass cabinet that clearly looked thirsty for blood.

Cysto returned with a glass and handed it over to Rovasco.

"Zamorak, I think we have some work to do."

I followed him into a tiny room that had stairs going downstairs. Descending the steps, I found myself dressed in multicoloured robes and a pointed conical hat of the same colors: Yellow and white

I was probably standing on the empty grounds underneath the island, by the enormity of it.

Cysto snapped his fingers and almost a million wooden staves appeared in front of us. They looked like roots of the very trees above us.

"Go Zamorak, pick a staff. Do choose wisely, it is an important milestone in a warrior's life. Oh, and nice robes. I figure yellow is your favorite color.."

I smiled at Cysto and lumbered around thousands of staves. They all appeared nearly the same to me.

But somehow passing through one of the staves made feel unusual but nostalgic. As I proceeded towards the staff, an urge inside told me what needed to be done.

I grabbed the staff and headed towards Cysto.

"Aren't all staves the same?"

"No, not at all. Every tree here as such has a particular number of roots which is a number unique to itself. And the power of the staff is determined accordingly. It gets pretty tricky though. We have known that staff no.16 was stronger than both 15 and 92. But exactly opposite to that sequence staff 22 was weaker than 21. This is has led most of the people to believe that it is the person's ability that counts..''

''And what do you think?''

''It matters. The number matters too, is what I've believed all my life.'' 

I glanced at my staff, "So what number does my staff have?" I questioned.

Cysto took a closer look at my staff. 

"Nineteen." he murmured.

"Nineteen..."

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Thanks for reading so far. I'm sure you are going to love the next chapter as we take a peek into Bruce Lee's training arena.