This letter had swiftly found its way to Iadric, merely hours after a message from him had been posted on a board in the Dawnspire.
The handwriting was nice and smooth, albeit the letter looked as if it had been written in a rush.
“Greetings, Knight-Mender. It is I, Champion Starwhisper. I have known of this message prior to your posting, however, I hadn’t had any time to properly reply, nor seek you out. You can count on the Blade of the Highlord to be there behind you.
If I may be rather frank, this is a good opportunity for the Sunguard to prove themselves an ally after all following the events in Tyr’s Hand. If your notice falls on deaf ears with some of my comrades, I shall do my best to convince them to hear your plea and help us. I made a vow to never fail the Silver Hand, and I take utmost care ensuring to never break that vow.
@notdavidbowie @gwynealin for mentions.
--
You see him and you decide to sit down with him. Normally, you hate sitting down with people at the Filthy Animal -- there’s just something about the quality of clientele that guarantees you’re looking at a dull conversation, and that doesn’t interest you. But he looks nicely groomed and, after all, he’s a Sin’dorei, so that’s an immediate plus in his favor. The mask to his well-cared for armor sits in front of him at the table as he drinks the swill they call ale. You note, before approaching, that he has rather sizeable daggers strapped to his hips. So likely, he’s someone you know -- knew. Someone you knew, before you changed your name and started pretending to be someone else. Hesitation rises in your stomach, and anxiety builds in the set of your shoulders. Polite conversation for a bored woman he may be, but you are always careful not to give too much away about who you were before you joined the Sunguard. The attire and the daggers mark danger, so entering this conversation on your own terms is critical.
So you sit, and smile. He asks you some questions that you note, immediately size up your expertise with the blades you carry across your back and the armor you wear. You play them off admirably, and fall into an easy rhythm. Speaking with people you don’t know is a lying game, a game of chance. You lie a little and speak truth a little, and they do the same in return. Except this one doesn’t seem like he’s lying too, too much when he speaks of how much he enjoys killing people. There’s a light in his eyes that you recognize as being similar to your own. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to share your similar opinion on the subject and disregard your normal hesitation for sharing the passion for your craft.
(The last person you told about it was Lazarus. You try not to think about how disappointed you were that he didn’t understand you. How scared he looked of you. It made you feel like a monster.)
He isn’t scared; quite the contrary, really. As the ale disappears you end up leaning towards him. You enjoy looking at the upward curve of his lips and the intelligence in his direct and steady gaze. The smile seems a bit forced, mostly because you’re both veritable strangers, but that’s to be expected from anyone who carries daggers and knows how to use them. When he looks away you sneak a peek at the rest of his body, too. You instantly decide that if the conversation keeps going well, he might be good for a one-off fuck. Maybe two, if he seems particularly trustworthy. Damn, that ass was fine.
And then there’s Aeleara! And as the ale flows freely your memory gets fuzzy at the edges. Your attention keeps turning back to him -- Waraylon, an Emberward in the Sunguard as it turned out. The Light speech goes in one ear and out the other. Being Sunguard doesn’t soothe all of your worries but generally, the Sunguard tend to be okay people, especially as partners in your bed for the evening. You confirm that he is, in fact, interested in you too -- the glances to your features that mirror your own speak volumes. When you decide the Animal isn’t the most fun place to get drunk, the three of you traipse back to your tiny, shitty apartment in Dalaran.
One sermon on morality and the elven soul later, you’re down one Aeleara and talking seriously about whether or not you and Waraylon think you have souls, or hearts. You claim you lost yours a long time ago, something you’ve always firmly believed. He agrees so casually you’re surprised. You cannot stop looking at him; you can't believe you let him alone in your house and you’re not worried he’ll stab you. There’s something about him that reaches into your center of panic and worry and soothes it. You can’t stop wondering how nice he would be to kiss.
You end up being too sleepy to do anything but hold hands. How much liquor did you drink? A lot. You fall asleep on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around your tiny frame. When you wake up he’s gone, a note and flowers -- for you! Directed to you! -- left in his place. He tucked you in the blanket draped across the back of the couch before he left.
You want to see him again and he’s only been gone a few hours. Calling yourself foolish, you hide the note in your underwear drawer.
You put the flowers in a vase and buy special magic powder to preserve their freshness as long as possible, however.
Visual Interest: 💗💗💗“She’s a handsome woman and her lips….those are a part of her that one is drawn into.”
Friendship Level:💗💗💗💗“She’s turning into a very good friend and I do enjoy the small moments that we’ve shared together.”
Sexual Desire: 💗💗💗“Someone that confident and starry-eyed seems like she has to know what she’s doing. I wouldn’t mind figuring this out if I were single.”
Romantic Interest: 💗💗“She’s such a big flirt! I adore her, but a real relationship would not be in the cards.”
On the highest mountain peak overlooking House Starshatter stood Solandis, looking out to a tempest that was brewing over the ocean. Terrible gusts of wind whipped at his body as he had attempted to tattoo himself even further. The demon inside of him was gaining control, and the small amount of tattoos he currently had held no sway over its growing strength. The spirit of a pit lord dug into the mans brain with its booming voice.
"Soon, my power will break and corrupt you, Solandis. You will be the harbinger of destruction in Quel'thalas, and you will obey the legions command."
"No, I refuse to submit to you, Xaradun. I w-will contain you within once again."
Solandis could barely find the strength to argue with the demon within, his mind slowly slipped away into darkness as he rushed to tattoo himself. His body shook violently as he attempted to jab at his skin with a blade soaked in ink and demon blood. Deep within his mind, he knew his attempts at containing Xaradun would prove fruitless.
The storm had finally reached land and reared its ugly face as rain had began to batter Solandis's scaled hide. The wind had grown even stronger, but the weight of his body was enough to keep him grounded. He knew that he couldn't keep this mental fight up for much longer. Lightning had struck at the peak of the mountain, making Solandis loose his focus and his grip on the blade.
Suddenly, a feeling that could only be described as a thousand blades jabbing at his brain placed his whole body in shock, sending him toppling over to the ground. He knew he was done for, his torment was finally over. For once since his ritual, he had felt worry for others, he had worried for Aeleara and all the innocent's in Quel'thalas.
"I have won Solandis, you were truly a fool to believe you could contain such reckless power, and now you and your people will suffer for your mistake."
Everything around him turned to darkness, his sense of feelings had also been lost. He slowly started to turn when in the endless darkness, a light had began to glow in the distance. It grew in brightness and strength as it had grew closer towards him, and he strangely felt familiar with the energy that surrounded his broken body.
Suddenly, his mind was free of worry and doubt as he felt a burst of light shoot through his entire body, freeing his mind and weakening Xaradun. Solandis found the strength to get back up onto his feet and cancel out the dark whispers of the demon. The sound of unrelenting rain and thunder was soon broken by a soft and familiar voice.
"I see you have broken from your prison Solandis, and I see your powers were getting to your head again." Aeleara chirped, her angelic voice piercing through the storm's fury.
"Aeleara?! I... I am sorry. My will was not my own when I had broken free from that damned cage. The demon inside of me was gaining control over me, and I would of lost myself had you not come at this exact moment."
For once Solandis has felt his empathy returning to him, something he had not felt ever since completing his ritual. His body gave off steam as the rain soaked him. He towered over his sister and looked down at her, the storms strength still grew in power, lightning struck all around the peak of the mountain.
"I suppose now I owe you that information that I had held from you. Xaradun would not let me tell you this but... the Legion is returning."
After hearing those words, the two simply had stood in silence for a few minutes before returning down to a safer place.
The cold air of the Ghostlands swept through the groves of dead trees.
Aeleara had agreed to meet her brother, Solandis at their once beautiful mansion that now lay in ruins, on the premise that a demon hunter would either be killed or jailed on sight in the golden streets of Silvermoon. Much was to be discussed at their discretion. Aeleara had not known if she could trust her own brother, even if he had gave his own word that he had cut off all ties with this allegiance to the Illidari.
The moon had began creeping above the mountaintops as they had met face to face for the second time, both had swore to be non aggressive during the meeting. Solandis’s skin gave off a sickly glow in the pale moonlight as Aeleara’s blue eyes radiated in the darkness.
“I am glad you and me could have this talk, sister. I had expected better hospitality from you when we had first met in the Plaguelands.” Solandis said with a sheepish grin, his voice sounding hoarse and raspy.
“Had you honestly expected me to let something that looks the way you do live? Look at yourself, you have let yourself become an abomination in your quest for “power”. What reason do I have to trust you? You are a traitor and you had let your very own family suffer in your absence!” Aeleara shouted with a shrill voice, echoing throughout the trees.
“You think your own once beloved brother speaks the truth? I am done with the Illidari, are you so foolish to believe that enough members still exist to make the group powerful? Most of them are either dead or imprisoned, and me, well, I was one of the more lucky ones. Believe me when I tell you this; a storm is coming, one this world has not seen the likes of. Would you not want more help on your side or would you rather cling to old beliefs that all of my kind are evil at heart?” Solandis said, his face still retaining the shoddy grin.
“Enough! We had agreed to a civil discussion, yet here we are throwing our words like knives.
I knew this discussion would prove fruitless, you are not the man I once remembered! You have lost your mind, and with it, the only family you’ve had left. I can only do one thing now, and that is free you from your suffering! Your skin is scaled and smouldered, your eye sockets burn with the fel! I am sorry it had to come to this, brother.” Aeleara said with a tear flowing down her eye as she had drawn her fathers sword, Shodabease.
Solandis had unsheathed his monstrous warglaives from his back and the two circled around each other as if they were vultures descending upon their prey. Each step they took they grew closer until their blades were pointed at each other's necks, yet neither of them could bring themselves to strike first. Just as the tension had reached its peak, the sound of the rustling of feet treading across leaves and broken glass interrupted the intense moment. Both of their heads snapped around only to notice their father's grave had been dug up, the dirt had been laying there for quite a time.
A very chill wind swept across the two as two glowing blue eyes stared daggers into their very souls. The figure had advanced onto them until the moonlight had lit up the strangers form. Aeleara’s ears wilted and tears began to stream down her face as she had noticed the figure. It was her own father, Lord Aerthaen Starwhisper, risen from undeath as a mindless death knight.
“F...father! W-who did this to you?!” She yelled, tears still streaming down her face.
“Lord Sithid Darkmantle sends his regards in death, my once beloved!” Aerthaen had shrieked as he advanced, sending sharpened shards of ice hurdling towards Aeleara and Solandis.
Solandis charged forward at his own father, silent and tense.
Aeleara had blacked out from her own despair at that moment, the stress of seeing her once beloved father raised as something she had hated the most by her own mortal enemy was too much for her to take in. The sound of blades meeting reverberated in her head as she faded in and out of consciousness.
Silence dawned upon her as she suddenly snapped awake, her limp body now jumping up off the ground, wielding her sword in hand. The first thing she noticed was Aerthaen holding her brother by his horn, his other one broke off during their short conflict.
“S-sister...I tried to protect you...but I’ve failed.. It is up to you now.” Solandis said as he fell unconscious in his father's frozen grip.
“Dearest Aeleara, I hope you are not as weak as your fledgling brother, he was fast, but not fast enough to outwit me!” Aerthaen snarled as he dropped Solandis’s limp body to the ground and brandished his fearsome axe. Aeleara’s sadness had then turned to ferocious anger in that moment as she charged forth fearlessly at her father and drove his own sword through his rotten heart, light seeping from his eyes as the evil in his soul was vanquished.
Aerthaen fell to the ground with a peaceful look set upon his face, his soul now freed from the clutches of the death knight Sithid. Tears had began to stream down her face again, she had never thought she would have to kill her own father, let alone see him once more after his death. She had sat in front of his grave waiting for her brother to awaken, knowing that she could trust him after he had tried to defend her. She had gained a powerful ally that day, and had found her once forgotten brother.
