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Previously... Here's the last instalment! Whew! A huge thank you to all who chose to accompany me on this dangerous and treacherous collaboration, it's been a blast for me, and I trust for each of you as well, your builds and stories have been the best. Hope you enjoy reading this last segment, with the several scenes that go with it! The Tiger of Illaryian: Part VIII Arama di Athena De Cioto ran like she had never run before in her life. “Am I too late? am I too late?” the words beat out a rhythm in her head. What if she was too tardi? What if the Rego was dead, what if Luca was gone per sempre? She thought about life in a different way now that death had been in her arms, and not so far from her heart either. With a gasp of breath the girl threw herself down to her knees in the sand beneath the statue of the giant Tiger of Illaryian. She dug desperately at the sand with her delicate hands, scraping out the dirt until her fingers felt something hard. The healing amulet! With a cry of joy she jerked out the shining pink stone set in the beautiful golden necklace. Then she looked straight up at the head of the looming tiger. She breathed more slowly now. There was nothing there. But suddenly she thought she saw a pair of small figures moving upon the crest, she heard a bold cry of triumph, and she saw Ilazio Moccenigo, throwing up his arms and shouting so that his voice echoed over the city! He was wrapped up in a concealing dark green turban and an old cloak, but he could not hide himself from her. It was Ilazio, and oh, had he had his vendetta? If he was all alone, then where was Luca di Carli? She threw the necklace quickly and carefully over her neck. Then she saw him, and she jumped back with a stifled scream. Luca was falling through the air, right in front of her! Was he dead? Luca suddenly lost his grip of Moccenigo's cape and fell violently towards the sand so far below. She looked up with horror at the man on the top of the tiger: but he was gone now. Only Luca di Carli lay before her, all crushed and mangled. They were alone in the stillness of the sunset. “Aren’t you glad to see me, signore?” whispered Arama, a mist rising to her eyes. The sun played about her shining auburn hair, and shadows flitted intermittently across her face. Luca smiled wistfully, his breaths coming in broken, hackneyed coughs. “So much for… trust,” he said, looking cheerful in spite of his pain. “So much,” she repeated sweetly, taking up his bloodied hand, ripping the necklace off her neck, and placing Luca’s hand gently on the Kolgari star, the healing diamond set within the stone. “‘When you feel tired, when you are not well,’” she whispered the ancient lullaby softly and gently in an elvish voice, raising Luca’s head in her arms and rocking him tenderly back and forth as she slipped the amulet down onto his heart, her hand on top of his, “‘When your lifeblood’s spilling, listen to this spell. Nothing can go wrong, solo fidati di me, listen to this song, e starai per mai bene.’ I made up that last line,” Arama laughed between her tears. As she sang the ancient pronouncement the very light of the sun faded in a glow of brilliant colors. The amulet sparkled beneath their hands and suddenly Luca’s eyes opened wide. “Arama!” he said in a broken voice, “I feel alright! I feel perfect!” “Well,” Arama grinned and pulled him up off the ground into her arms, “maybe you’re alright, Luca… ma fidati di me,” she kissed him on the cheek, “you’re not perfect!” .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. After the chaotic events that thronged the terzo giorno, everything settled back down into relative tranquility. Arama’s cousin Raimonde pardoned Ilazio’s family in a public address, with Fiorello by his side, for the sequestro of his child, but once the populace understood that it was all a ploy to cast blame upon the Rego, beloved Luca di Carli, they were outraged for a time against the Moccenigos, so much so that no man with that last name dared show himself in the city for molte settimane. The Kolgari meanwhile hunted feverishly for the amulet, raking the city, until at last Lord Círdan bethought him of Prince Råiden’s last words and searched the sands beneath the Tiger of Illaryian. Then the true amulet was restored with joy to the Ancient Elven Shrine in the Sunken City, and The Tiger was completely pardoned for his transgression which he had wiped out in blood. Luca di Carli, meanwhile, cemented a secret truce with the Kolgari Council, an agreement of peace and companionship between them, with equal rights for every Kolgari who cared to show his face with the humans from above. The Rego remained just as much as ever the keen and shrewd marketer and businessman, running the Realm like a well ordered olive garden. As for Arama, who knows what deadly scrapes she might get in next? Her public image might not be very good, but behind the scenes she remains Luca’s closest, if most treacherous, friend and consulente, and he has promised to trust her forever… “Who knows how that might end?” Arama laughed jollily in Luca di Carli’s face. “What if someday I get to like you better?” Luca smiled and shook his head, waving his curly hair back and forth. “Due possono giocare a quel gioco,” he said with a grin. “Two can play at that game, Arama…” .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
