This was the first time I committed to such a thing, I can’t wait to do more. Whether it’s next year’s challenge, or other similar writing challenges. Maybe one year NaNoWriMo?
Here’s a compiled list from this year’s challenge.
Day 1 - Reunion, Afterlife
Day 2 - Wander, Blame
Day 3 - Romance, Compromised
Day 4 - Accomplish, Macabre
Day 5 - Music, Savage
Day 6 - Festival, Ruins
Day 7 - Charity, Soul
Day 8 - Wonder, Invasive
Day 9 - Colors, Disappear
Day 10 - Feast, Sleepless
Day 11 – Moonlight, Watch
Day 12 – Ball, Gravestone
Day 13 – Pride, The Maw
Day 14 – Redemption, Hollow (Warning: Violence, death of an animal companion.)
Day 15 – Memory, Chase
Day 16 – Sincerity, Sorrow
Day 17 – Spellbinding, Disappointment
Day 18 – Precognition, Collapse
Day 19 – Affection, Wake (Warning: Sexual content)
Day 20 – Master, Jealousy
Day 21 – Rendezvous, Carnage
Day 22 – Court, Taboo
Day 23 – Serendipity, Frightened
Day 24 – Revelry, Denial
Day 25 – Reprisal, Immortal
Day 26 – Sensual, Burn
Day 27 – Delicious, Blood
Day 28 – Ascension, Obsession
Day 29 – Heart, Monster
Day 30 – Ceremony, Catastrophic
Day 31 – Life, Death (Warning: Violence, death of an animal companion.)
I decided for today that I would try to write things a little different. I’ve never written in first person perspective before.
I don't know why I'm in such a rush to reach Silvermoon. The march of the dead was pushing on no matter what stood in its way. The humans fell to it, why wouldn't my people meet the same fate? I'm exhausted both physically and mentally, but even rested I don't see myself making a difference alone.
Alone.
It had taken a lot to leave Oleander's body behind. I couldn't carry him, I haven't been able to lift him since he was a cub. I have to shake my head violently and force further thoughts of Oleander out. I can't stop now, going back is for when things are safe again. And I won't be able to see where I'm going if the tears return.
Ahead I see other defenders working hard at repelling packs of the dead and I all too eagerly, though tiredly as well, throw myself into it. This is muscle memory now. Drawing back the string on my bow, letting arrows fly even while having to keep moving to maintain distance. All of this grounds me in a way I need, keeping me from breaking internally from everything that's happening.
We rally ourselves as the bodies lie still once more, the others quickly learned to aim for the heads as well. There's barely time to regroup and exchange any intel before more packs come shuffling along. In the haze of combat, my ears pick up the sound of an all-too-familiar roar with an unsettling twist to it.
Beyond the current group of corpses, an undead lynx being ridden by an armored corpse awaited. Even altered by death, and in the heat of battle, I would never fail to recognize my own partner.
I suppose it made sense, didn't it? There had been some undead animals among the ranks pushing toward Silvermoon. Those that stood in the way of death's advance became part of it once they fell.
Which means if I fall, I could be reunited with him.
But this is the cold shock needed to push me out of my thoughts once more. I'm not ready to die yet, much less become part of something that could threaten the world itself. The rider using my partner has decided to get involved. There are only two other defenders left with me now, spreading out so we aren't all in one place for it to charge.
I don't know if it's coincidence or not, but I become the target of the charging cat. The rider, whether by design or inability to stay atop the pouncing lynx was left behind and tumbling along the ground.
I know the way Oleander fights. I've seen him in action more than enough over the years. But seeing it and having it aimed at me are two very different things. I avoid the charge but as the creepy glowing eyes stare me down, I don't find the strength to fire my arrow.
Dodging further attempts to reach me, or narrowly avoiding swiping claws, I try to keep my distance but he's always been great at keeping with me. Even with the other two firing at it, having dispatched his foolish rider, its clear that his focus is entirely on me.
“Please.” I plead with him. With any hint of him beneath the cold twisted exterior. But even commands don't break the spell upon him. Finally an arrow from one of the others catches his leg to slow his advances, his back already appears to be a pincushion. All of these things crush the part of my mind intently focused on remembering my partner.
My bow is finally drawn once more, my hand unsteadily holding the string. The shouting of the the other defenders has faded from the periphery of my focus. In the distance I know they're having to focus on new enemies while still confused at my hesitation. But all I see before me is my best friend in this world, even as he seeks to kill me. Hobbled leg or not, it's clear what he plans to do.
As he starts to move, my arrow flies.
I'm so sorry.
* * *
This forest isn't like the one I've grown up in. There are so many strange beings around, but all have been friendly. Every so often I catch a scent of something familiar, but the longer I stay the less I smell to make me think of home. How long have I been here?
I miss my friend.
I don't know how they know him but the keepers here once told me I had done a great thing and saved his life. That one day I might be reunited with him if I want to be. As if I wouldn't!
One day they excitedly announced that it was time for me to return. But as they were explaining, I fell into a deep slumber.
You will be reborn, experience life anew!
* * *
I've been placed in a box, told that I'm to have a new master after tonight. My siblings have each been given to people of their own, until only I remain. I can hear the sounds of people beyond the box, they all sound quite happy about something, until everything goes quiet and my box is picked up. I'm being moved!
The top of the box is removed and the light pours in finally. Unlike the long-eared people that have cared for me since birth, the one staring at me is pale, with hair a color I've never seen on a person before.
Something deep inside me fills me with a sense of happiness as we stare at each other. An instinct pleased to be reunited with family.
He removes me from the box at last to hold me in his arms as everyone around returns to their happy activities. By morning, he announces that he plans to call me Myra.
(These words broke my creativity streak for probably the lowest effort piece of the whole challenge. I’m skipping the read more for this one.)
“You should throw parties here.”
Leo'mar stood with a friend in a the same clearing that his mother used to throw parties in once upon a time. Most of the grounds to his family home was natural forest with lush plant life everywhere. The clearing the pair stood in was the only one of its kind on the property, the largest gap without trees or bushes or flowers that would allow people to gather outside and see the sky above.
The suggestion wasn't the first one he had heard. He might even have once considered how he might do it, but any such thoughts only led to thoughts of how catastrophic such an event would go as he really wasn't cut out to be such a host. “I could see maybe lending the space for someone else to play host, or to hold a ceremony. I don't see myself throwing any events here myself.
“It would be a shame if you didn't try at least once. Even just for a few people.”
“It would have to be very few people for me to consider that.” Perhaps if Leo tried it no one would ask again when they saw how bad it could go.
Tracking down his mother had not been easy. Leo'mar has responsibilities and duties to fulfill closer to home, there was no time for running off to the Outlands. He had learned that there were multiple times she had returned to Silvermoon in the service of the King, bringing supplies from the broken world to the broken people.
Supplies, as it turned out, meant Fel crystals. And something else that was being kept a closely guarded secret for a fledgling order called the Blood Knights. It wasn't hard to understand why they thought to conceal the source of their power when it inevitably got out to the public.
Siphoning power from Fel crystals was bad enough by itself. Already their people had been splintered on the matter of the destructive power of Fel to replace the loss of the Sunwell. But to drain the power of another being...
Monster wasn't necessarily a word being thrown around, but majority opinion wasn't favorable all the same.
In the end, the closest Leo got to seeing his mother was during her final trip to Silvermoon. Only from a distance, as she and her group were guarded the entire time as though expecting trouble from the desperate people looking for help.
Their eyes met, even at a distance. What Leo found wasn't the wild anger and frustration that had been aimed at him the last time they had been together. Nor was it the happy, loving look of a mother.
What looked back at him was a cold seething disdain that threatened to pierce his heart.
Temptation rose within Leo to step forward and try to speak to her, yet the look of the guards suggested that weapons would be drawn at a moment's notice if any dared interrupt their business.
It wasn't hard to see why the people eventually revolted against the King and his loyal cronies.
Mad might have been an understatement. The kingdom of Quel'thalas had been devastated. The Scourge could not be stopped from their relentless parade through the Elven lands, and now the Sunwell had become tainted.
Leo'mar had never been magically talented, not in the ways that mattered most to the people of Quel'thalas anyway. Yet even he could feel the loss of the Sunwell's power pulling at a part of himself. He was certain that no family had avoided the devastation of death, but to feel the loss of power as well...
People going mad would probably only be the beginning.
He hadn't been sent out away from home since the invasion, there was no shortage of work to be done within the kingdom.
Kael'thas Sunstrider's ascension to the throne had not been made any easier by the state of his peoples' well-being nor the state of affairs still going on to the south.
Leo's father hadn't left the house in the months following the Scourge, Leo had to come home for any chance to speak to him. He hadn't heard from home in some time, it had always been his mother who had reached out to him in the past, and any missives he had sent remained unanswered.
He hadn't found his mother anywhere upon coming home, only his father and the usual faces. When asked, his father had given him the run around, as though he didn't quite know how to answer. At last, all he could do was look Leo in the eye and say, “Addiction can cause very unfortunate obsession.”
Soon after, he heard about her being part of the Kael'thas' expedition to the Outlands.
Though he was a fairly decent cook, Leo'mar wasn't a baker. Maybe it was that he already put effort into cooking food and mixing potions and drinks, but he left the desserts to the professionals. There were a lot of amazing professionals in Silvermoon.
Even if he didn't make desserts himself, he had the tendency to carry some on him, whether for a sweet snack some time during the day, or to share with those he cared about when he had the chance to ply them with chocolate. It also gave him more of an excuse to visit bakeries in Silvermoon and see the creatively tasty creations the city's talented people whipped up.
Some times all this took was passing by window displays to see the multi-tiered cakes with intricate icing patterns or sweet breads made to resemble cute animals. With Hallow's End right around the corner, many establishments were leaning into the spooky theme regardless of what they offered and bakeries were no exception.
On top of autumn-themed goods, some places were working to decorate spooky treats like donuts l made to look like skulls, or cookies looking and tasting like pumpkins. There was one bakery in particular that gave Leo pause as he walked by the display. In the window was an entire display of creative confections.
What he witnessed was a spooky night time scene of a town square with villagers gathered around what appeared to be a gruesome murder. Everything looked edible, down to the smallest of details. Villagers looked to be cookies, with the murder victim resting in a pool blood that looked to be jelly. And as he stared at it longer, he noticed that tucked behind the corner of a building in the display that there was even a cookie murderer holding the “bloody” knife.
Leo could only marvel at the sheer effort and creativity being proudly shown off, before heading into the bakery to find more.
Leo'mar had been putting in extra time training despite living a slower lifestyle at home. Exercise was an every day requirement, even before he had come home, stopping it didn't feel right regardless of whether he planned to go back out on an adventure one day.
Different days meant different types of weapons as well. His skill with a bow remained top notch, but he had taken up a quarterstaff to add to the list of close range combat skills as an alternative to the pair of short blades he once carried. Some times this meant practicing on his own, but he had a few long time colleagues he could train with as well.
On this particular day the routine of choice was an obstacle course to work on agility and keep the body flexible. Leo did well enough at these most days, but the magical ever-changing nature of the course had the habit of taking one by surprise. Such was the case on this run, as normal-looking ground proved to be a slippery trap.
Momentum carried Leo out of control until he was sliding down a slope and rolling to a stop at the bottom. Having chosen not to wear his armor in favor of something lighter for training, he felt more of the trip than he normally would have. His forearms sported a friction burn from the prolonged sliding over the ground.
Leo waved off offered help when he was checked on as he had no true injuries to require special attention, and he had a means of soothing the irritated areas at home. It wasn't the most pleasant time until he got home, especially changing out of the tighter training gear.
At home he had an ointment stored away among the many different alchemical concoctions that would sooth and speed up the recovering without a healer having to spend any time on it. Leo was gentle in the application. He supposed that under better circumstances, and done by someone other than himself, it might even be sensual.
“We aren't immortal. The day will come that all that we have will become yours. We just want to make sure that you'll be okay, and that the family will continue on after we're gone.”
It was something his father had said to Leo'mar once, following a particularly explosive episode in which he had once more angered his mother by not arriving for a planned event. Unlike the many times he had given her the slip, this time he had been busy.
One could only cry wolf for so long before being ignored.
The reprisal had been a long biting condemnation of how flippant he was being about not just his future but that of the family itself. By not meeting the woman she had planned to push at him this time he had yet again not just let her down but made things worse for the family in doing so.
At the end with her voice starting to break from the yelling she had remarked that he had won because she refused try and make him meet any more young ladies to test compatibility. Instead she would go ahead and arrange everything without him meeting the chosen bride until everything was done.
She had banished him from her sight, though Leo hadn't planned on staying. He did leave feeling more conflicted about the situation, but his father had reassured him that she would calm down and that he would talk to her about it.
It remained on Leo's mind for a time, but his current assignment involved a visit to Lordaeron to look into rumors of trouble brewing in the Human kingdom.
Leo'mar was sitting quietly at a bar as a party raged on around him. He had been keeping an eye out for social events since returning to Silvermoon and as reserved as he tended to be he still enjoyed going and experiencing the revelry.
The woman asking the question had slid on to the stool beside his, fixing a scrutinizing stare on him as he stared back in confusion. Confusion because he had no idea who this woman was, and because in he currently held a drink in his hand. Leo even held the drink up toward her as his brow rose. “I've got a drink.”
Her hair waved about as she shook her head at him. “You don't get drunk. I've seen you a few times now. Most others are getting drunk, why aren't you?”
“Why do I need to?” Leo countered. He supposed maybe she seemed familiar from a few prior events, but he rarely took special notice of people unless they had done something to grab his attention. “I have a little because I enjoy it. Not to get drunk. I can enjoy myself without going too far.”
“Oh.” The way she said it, her oh was drawn out in exaggeration. “You've got a problem.” She mimed drinking with her hand.
“How do I have a drinking problem if I'm not not drinking enough?”
“You're in denial!” Now she sounded as though she felt sympathy for him, her hand came up to rest on his forearm. “It's okay to admit you've got a problem, but you shouldn't be indulging even a little bit!” Her free hand swept his drink from in front of him before she hopped off of the stool. Her smile was full of well-practiced kindness. “I'll pray for you!”
Leo could only watch incredulously as she sashayed away with his drink. It wasn't worth trying to get it back, much less argue against such an act. He spent the rest of the evening amazed at the lengths some would go to for a drink.
The Legion's presence was all over the Broken Isles. It didn't matter where one chose to go, everything living there was suffering from invading demons. Against demons Leo'mar had no hesitation to engage and take them out unless there were too many nearby.
This often meant avoiding demons altogether unless there were allies nearby to work with. Along the coast of Azsuna Leo encountered the remains of what appeared to be sailors or pirates that had been fighting off demons. Bodies of both lay strewn across the area, with a ship still ablaze with Fel green fire.
The sounds of battle drew him along with his bow drawn and ready. Even if these sailors weren't of the high moral variety, leaving them to demons was out of the question. Not that there were many left to help, as Leo found the action.
Arrows flew to join the slashing of blades, taking demons down until Leo was left standing with a shaken pair of sailors. When it looked like they were considering whether to treat Leo as an enemy, one instead fled as fast as his legs could carry him, leaving the other trailing in his wake.
A loud noise erupted from the blazing ship as a smoking winged animal shot from the wreckage to crash down on the beach. By the time Leo could reach the animal the smoke had revealed itself to be more severe. Badly burned, there was little he could do for the animal that had clearly been caught and placed aboard the ship before it was attacked.
He had never been able to get a close look at the wolfhawks of the Isle. They had been an interesting discovery when he arrived on the Isles. Soft cries broke Leo from his studying as the burned beast's wing rustled. From beneath it came a pup, smoky and singed in places and clearly frightened.
It initially tried to avoid his grasp when he reached out for it, but he quickly a careful hold of it so he could examine it and tend to the singed areas. The shivering stopped by the time he was done, the pup seemed to have knocked out altogether.
Not wanting to leave such a young animal on its own, Leo departed with it in his arms. He had no idea whether he could introduce the pup to other wolfhawks in a way that they would adopt it or not.
As a stroke of serendipity, depending on one's view, this would prove more difficult than fighting demons. Though Leo tried time and again over the next few days, he encountered a combination of the grown wolfhawks refusing any interest in the pup, and the pup not having as much interest in her own kind in favor of her savior.
He hadn't kept an animal companion since Oleander had died. Despite the benefits of having an extra set of eyes and claws for protection, he refused the idea of taking up a new partner over the years. The idea of getting attached and risking their lives to keep them at his sides, much less losing them, bothered him.
Yet now he had a pup getting increasingly attached to him. His resolve was crumbling with every failure. When it finally let to a moment of aggression from the grown wolfhawks, Leo threw in the towel and collected the scared pup up into his arms.
“Fine, you can come with me.” As though taking in the cute pup were truly a hardship.
It had been nearly a year since Leo'mar and his father had held a funeral for his mother. He had returned to the city to report in and hear about new assignments. The Horde had need for scouts and intelligence agents. He wasn't sure how he felt about their allies just yet, but it would mean getting to see new parts of the world.
On his trip through the city, Leo found himself standing before what had once been his family's apothecary. It was once a bustling shop, a go-to for many in the city not just for the essentials but for for custom orders as well. Now it stood abandoned and vandalized.
Where once The Rosecrown Reserve had rested in rose-gold lettering on carved wood, most of the letters were now gone, and the wood had marks that made it clear people had struck it with something sharp. The window along the storefront had been smashed, and beyond he could see in the dark shop that shelves had been smashed and knocked around.
Leo had been careful in inquiring with his father about how things were going. The man hadn't always had an answer in the past, and now was nearly no exception. He had imparted one simple thing to Leo.
In the court of public opinion, his mother and those like her who died with the King were now a taboo subject. It was time to move forward, and those that refused to join them had to be left behind.
The Fourth War pushed Leo'mar's tolerance to its limits. At a time when the people of Azeroth needed to finally recover and rebuild from constant conflict, jumping into a new war with one another felt ridiculous.
Especially with the giant sword sticking out of the world.
The Alliance and Horde were creating carnage in their wake. Even the growing movement within the Horde to yet again unseat its Warchief wasn't slowing the spreading destruction. Those on both sides could only do so much to help put a stop to things
Leo had gone from serving as an intelligence gatherer for the Horde to intelligence gathering for the allied resistance when he joined the efforts to remove Sylvanas from power. The difference was little more than risking being caught by Alliance to risking being caught by Sylvanas' loyalists.
This often meant approaching agreed on rendezvous points with added caution, for fear of being tracked or ambushed by those pretending to be on the same side still.
The end of the Fourth War hadn't come soon enough for Leo. The Old God's short rise and fall almost felt like overkill on the growing sense of burnout building within him.
The call for a slower life lacking high stakes was getting stronger.
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