Related stories: Age of Zaros, Age of War
A Great Lament
Akthanakos’ blade swerved to avoid Enakhra’s spear. He was one of the Mahjarrat’s finest warriors, and his prowess with the sword could only be matched by his older brother, Azzanadra. Enakhra was also a fine warrior, probably the best woman with a spear. She had received her training from the great general of Zaros, Zamorak.
Their weapons clashed, Akthanakos striking the spear several inches below the head, knocking it to the right. He stabbed the blade at his fellow Mahjarrat, but Enakhra, quickly thinking, spun around and struck the edge of his sword with the head of her spear. She decided to chop at his face with it, but he ducked the blow. Raising his sword, he parried another as Enakhra turned around and tried to strike him again.
“I’m sorry, Enakhra,” Akthanakos said with a grin while their battle was put on hold, “but a spear can never hope to match a sword!”
“Ha!” the woman retaliated. “You’d like to think that!”
Enakhra lunged her spear at his face, but a quickly thinking Akthanakos raised his blade and, in a lightning fast slash, chopped the head off the spear. With two quick, short leaps he closed in on Enakhra and held his sword to her neck.
“You fought well,” Enakhra commented as she dropped the headless staff on the ground, “I can tell that you have trained with your brother much.”
“Actually,” Akthanakos replied with a grin as his blade, too, fell, “I haven’t spoken to him since he left to annihilate the tribe of the Desert Witch.” Two slaves of the Mahjarrat scrambled to pick up the practice weapons.
Enakhra’s brow furrowed. “Oh, really? I myself haven’t seen Zamorak since he wiped out the Islarin tribe.”
Each of them weaponless, the two embraced each other. Akthanakos, a head taller than his lover, smiled down at her. “I long for the day when Zaros allows us to lead armies against his foes.”
Enakhra returned the smile. “As do I.”
“Maybe we will fight against Armadyl and Saradomin.”
“That would be glorious. The two brothers would pose a good fight, but we would surely defeat them.”
Akthanakos, using the mystical magic that Zaros had taught them, conjured a small, holographic image of his glowing light purple blade. It levitated in the air between his face and Enakhra’s. The woman made another magical picture, this one of her blood red spear. The two weapons crossed.
“Imagine what we could unleash together,” Akthanakos said. He waved his dark brown hair to remove it from his eyes, grinning. Enakhra laughed.
“Akthanakos,” she spoke his name softly, and for a moment the lovers only stared at each other. “How is Azzanadra?” she asked, breaking the silence.
“Good for the most part,” Akthanakos answered. “From what I’ve heard, he and Zamorak’s attack on The Devourer is going well. She is to appear before Our Lord as soon as they arrive.”
Enakhra turned away. “I wish Zaros would let her and her undead hordes rot where they are…what can they do in the barren rocks that we drove them to now?”
Akthanakos frowned. “I’m sure Our Lord knows what he is doing. Besides, they are abominations, and such must be wiped from this land completely.”
“Perhaps,” Enakhra faced him once more. “Someday, I hope we can be together.”
“…and share a life and a castle,” Akthanakos smiled once more, reciting the vows of marriage that the Mahjarrat took when they wed.
“Yes,” she smiled back, her face shining beautifully in the light of the torches surrounding the training area. “Someday.”
Akthanakos frowned. The commotion was everywhere, even in his personal palace. He slowly walked through the training grounds that but a few short hours ago, he and his lover, Enakhra, had practiced. Only moments ago everything had changed-Zamorak usurped Zaros using the powerful staff of Armadyl which he had stolen for his own sake, and he and his minions were now slaughtering those who remained loyal to Zaros. The loyalists only hope rested upon Azzanadra, Akthanakos' brother.
“Sir,” a servant of Akthanakos appeared behind him. “Enakhra wishes to meet with you.”
“Is she a traitor, just like that scum Zamorak?” Akthanakos shouted in a fit of rage.
“She claims to be loyal to Zaros. Shall I send her in?”
“Yes. I’ll temporarily lower my wards that protect my fortress from harm.”
“Yes, sir.”
Akthanakos cast a spell, disabling his magical spells that guarded the palace for a few moments. He soon heard footsteps in the corridor. Enakhra soon appeared in full battle splendor, her enchanted crimson robes making her appear more beautiful and powerful than ever.
“What is it?” Akthanakos asked. “Did they seize your fortress? Are you alright?”
Enakhra’s face remained as solemn and emotionless as ever. Instead of responding, she held out her hand and pointed it at the servant. He fell over dead immediately.
"What are you doing?" Akthanakos demanded.
"He is a loyalist to Zaros."
"Wait..." His brow furrowed, pondering what his lovers' words meant.
“Akthanakos, I’m sure you’ve been asked this by many, but I urge you, swear loyalty to Zamorak instead and encourage your brother to put down his arms!”
“You…lied…” Akthanakos’ words were slow. How could one so close to him lie about their allegiance?
“I needed to get close to you to tell you this. Azzanadra and you are the only remaining Mahjarrat who are still loyal to Zaros and alive.”
“I will not bow to a traitor who usurps the throne of my lord!”
Enakhra raced towards him, but Akthanakos summoned his purple sword, and in a violet shimmer of light his blade appeared at his side. The woman stopped. “I’m urging you, at least lay down your sword and tell your brother to do so! Do not throw your life away so easily!”
He clenched his weapon tightly, rage building up inside of him, at both Zamorak for his treachery and Enakhra for following him and lying about her loyalty. “I do not wish to fight you, Enakhra.”
“You have no choice!” A sparkling, deadly red weapon appeared in her hands. “Zamorak enchanted this spear so that when I stab you, you will not die but instead be sent to a prison in the desert, where you will remain until you swear your allegiance to him!”
“So be it.” Akthanakos raised his blade and his former lover leapt upon him. Her spear was aimed at his face, but using his wits quickly he knocked the lance to his left, causing Enakhra’s colored robes to flash before him. As soon as her feet landed on the ground, she slashed her weapon at him in an attempt to at least scar his flesh, which would be enough to capture him in the prison that awaited him.
Akthanakos was too quick, however, and he jumped over the razor sharp head of the spear, pushing it further under him with his purple sword. He slashed at her, catching Enakhra completely off guard, but somehow she managed to bring her weapon up just in time to parry the blow.
Enakhra gave a tremendous battle cry. This, Akthanakos observed, was something she undoubtedly took from Zamorak, her combat instructor. A blood spell lunged from the tip of her spear, but he easily dodged it. In retaliation, Akthanakos sent out a powerful wave of ice that froze the wall of the training room behind her. Enakhra, however, remained unharmed because of some magical ward that surrounded her.
“You cannot defeat me,” Enakhra said softly, a contradiction to the loud noise of their dual, “but I still urge you, submit now! Your brother will do the same if he sees you do it! Please, we loved each other once! We shouldn’t let it die because of your arrogance! Please, Akthanakos, submit!”
The Mahjarrat shook his head. “Never.”
“So be it,” the woman let out another loud battle cry and leapt at him, so he ran towards her to close in for combat. Using his purple bladed sword, Akthanakos managed to push her spear aside, then slashed at her unprotected left arm. Enakhra, as quick and agile as she was, received a small cut on her arm. The two quickly turned, a drop of blood falling from the blade.
Only then did Akthanakos realize what he had to do: to stop her he needed to kill her. It was a truth he had known but his mind had not penetrated it, and the reality suddenly overwhelmed him. Could he really kill Enakhra, the one love of his life? What were his other options, submit to her or continue battling for the rest of his life? He could tell she was fatiguing at a faster rate than he was, and sooner or later he was bound to overpower her. But could he really bring himself to do it?
Enakhra attacked him once again. This time, however, he only parried her blows as she dashed by; he was too deep in thought to concentrate on a battle. Confused as to why this was happening, Enakhra kept constantly slashing and stabbing him, but he successfully parried or dodged each blow. Although she was tiring fast, Akthanakos simply could not take the aggressive since he now was fully aware of what it would lead to.
“Come on!” Enakhra shouted as she threw herself at him once more, but Akthanakos simply leapt out of the way, knocking the spear away from him with his purple blade. She spun around several times in an attempt to gain momentum as she spun away. There was a pause in the battle. Akthanakos lowered his weapon, causing Enakhra to be more relaxed than she was earlier. “Finish it!” she demanded.
The woman ran towards her former lover once more. Her spear was pointed directly at his heart. Could he do what was necessary? With one precise strike he could knock her spear out of the way, leaving her torso exposed. Enakhra soon reached five paces from him and she jumped. Akthanakos knew what he needed to do, but simply could not bring himself to do it. The spear was nearing his heart. If he didn’t do anything, the head of the weapon would pierce his heart in less than a second. Finally resolving on what he would do, Akthanakos breathed in. His sword fell and Enakhra’s spear stabbed through his unprotected heart.
It took the woman a few seconds to realize what had just happened. She turned to him. “No!” she exclaimed. “No! No!” She panted. “No!” This time, her cry continued for a while.
Akthanakos grunted, a slight grin on his face. He wished he could say something to her, but in a few moments he would pass on to the prison that awaited him and his chest was in agonizing pain.
“You were supposed to kill me!” she cried. “You were the better warrior, I know it! Why did you do that? Why?” she screamed, her voice screeching through the entire palace. “Why?” this time her voice was softer as she asked the question.
Unable to speak, Akthanakos opened his lips and mouthed “I love you."
“You fool,” a small smile came with a tear from her eyes as Enakhra’s lip trembled. Akthanakos’ body began to glow purple, and, in a flash of white light, disappeared. “I love you, too.”
I'm glad we're not a 'dead' forum anymore, like we were this summer. 
(I'm just kidding 
