"When Dalaran was brought down, I think one of the first tragedies I thought of was potentially you," Safrona said with some strain across the channel, staring at the crystal in hand as it softly pulsed in time with each syllable spoken. She waited until the crystal dulled and transferred the words fully, before gathering her thoughts again to give.
"I hated the thought that you were lost too, that day. That sinking dread that I would find....some remainder of you, moved on. That I would be the one to tell your cousin and all your marvelous family that they had lost a promising Light in you."
Safrona inhaled and chuckled witheringly on her next words. "Love is a strong word for just...a moment of relief. But I like very much that I would not have to be the one to bring that news. I certainly had my tally of the grieving to report that sort of loss too, and deliver effects. Few postmasters are willing to take on that burden, but I have always made that a part of my function. And it takes its toll."
"People come and go from me as they need to, and I accept that. You, of course always had the knack of picking up conversation like it has been yesterday, no matter how long you've been away. I think I'd miss that ease of conversation - your delightful eagerness. But don't worry on it, lovely girl. Part of me also knows that you'll be just fine without me in your ear too."
//I did a little experiment about a week ago, and ofc it ran away from me. Otherwise I'd have used the space on the paper differently and Asharin would have the rest of his left hand xD
(Wanted to write a bit of something for the end of the Draenei Heritage quests for Nira. Kind of exists in a bubble in ways due to going along with the quest and making Nira the Tishanaat.)
“I don’t know why I was chosen for this role,” Nirahsa stated softly as she adjusted her goggles and fidgeted with the attire she was wearing. Earthy tones mixed with purple of the Tishataan garb. It wasn’t uncomfortable in the sense of being poorly made, but the significance of the clothing made Nira uncomfortable like a spotlight had been put upon her.
“Velen has his reasons for asking you do to this, though he may have heard from a few notable Draenei about how it would suit you,” Dacianna stated giving Nira a small wink before she leaned over, delivering a brief kiss upon the tinkerer’s lips.
Nirahsa blushed lightly, “I’ll do my best even if I don’t understand, yes yes.”
“I know you will my bundle of sparks!” Daci smiled before she turned to rejoin the other Eredar at the Tishamaat and partake in the festivities.
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“I’m the memory bearer,” Nirahsa thought to herself before glancing at the ceremonial bowl she’d been given to hold the stones that other Eredar would etch the burden of a memory upon that they wanted to be relieved of. “It’s…ironic that one who had once lost all their memories is now to be the bearer of the burdens others wish to move past.”
“It’s not like you don’t remember now,” A familiar if far to edgy voice remarked in Nirahsa’s head as Asharin mused.
“And I still at times wish I didn’t remember.”
“Heh” Nirahsa could see the smirk that would have been on Asharin’s face from the sound of her low chortle, “That overgrown hot chocolate bearing teddy bear would probably say, ‘Friend Nirahsa! That is what the Tishamaat is all about! Leaving our troublesome memories in the past and moving towards a brighter dawn!’” The tone of Asharin was very much a caricature of Vasily.
Nirahsa moved through the ceremonial room of the Exodar, slipping past a few people before approaching one group and trying to smile brightly at them. The actual look was a tad more awkward as Nirahsa always felt a bit out of place in large crowds. “May I take your memory stones, yes yes?”
There were several thunks as the stones were placed in tishataan bowl she held up for them, giving a small bow. The goggled Draenei then moved on to get more stones from other eredar that were attending the celebration.
She tilted her head, musing in her head, “You don’t dislike Vasily nearly as much as you put on.”
“He is extremely irritating with how joyful he is all the time,” Asharin intoned with annoyance.
“And yet you at times feel rather giddy before our sessions with him.” Nirahsa couldn’t help but smile lightly even as she felt Asharin fume a little.
“I do not feel, ‘giddy’ no no!”
“You can’t hide that Asharin, I’m in your head as much as you’re in mine! Yes yes!”
Asharin scoffed, “Maybe….but if you ever tell the Teddy Bear that I’ll kill you!”
The tinkerer chuckled a little to herself, she probably looked a tad odd to some Draenei. As while she wasn’t verbally talking to herself, she was still inclining her head like one would in response to listening to someone. Varying enough that one could potentially wonder if she was having a conversation with herself in her own head, though most wouldn’t realize how literal that really was.
Nirahsa spoke to more Eredar and collected several more memory stones, her gaze glancing at the etchings upon their surface. Giving insight as to some of the burdens others wish to move beyond. Many were things she’d never have expected to be burdening them to begin with.
As she walked while doing her duty as Tishataan, Nirahsa began to reflect on what she should put on her own stone. It was odd, while she’d regained her memory eventually, remembering some of the terrible things she’d helped do on Draenor. Those events felt like a different lifetime, a different person entirely. It wasn’t who she was now at all even though it still troubled her at times.
For while those events felt like a different person did them, she knew it wasn’t so, they were done by her. A her that was filled with sadness and grief at the loss of her niece Shari in the Orc attack on Shattrath. While Shari hadn't been her own daughter, she had still been a reminder and a promise to Nirahsa’s Sister who’d passed several years previously due to an illness. The loss of the young girl had shattered her, leading to her eventually aiding humans that became stranded on Draenor years later. Giving them tools and explosives to use to attack Orc Villages indiscriminately with. Instead of lessening the wound in her soul, helping such indiscriminate killing just made it worse.
“That was more me than you,” Asharin’s thoughts slipped in solemnly.
“No, it was both of us, since we were one and the same at the time,” Nirahsa returned with a sigh. She must have been frowning sadly as it prompted several people nearby to ask her if everything was alright.
“I’m fine, just…recalling my own burdens,” She stated trying to smile soflty as she moved on.
Eventually the time came as Nirahsa reached Grand Anchorite Almonen and he handed her a Memory Stone, instructing her as to how it was to be etched for the ceremony. Before all the stones were to be cast into the blue fire before the Anchorite.
“What are you going to put?” Asharin asked in her head.
Nirahsa thought for a moment before she began to etch.
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Artificer Nirahsa & Asharin
We are at times still weighed down by what the Orcs did. We hated them for the pain they caused, we lashed back causing pain to them in retribution. They were manipulated, and it isn’t fair to hate all of them because of it. Giving pain never grants more than a brief reprieve for your own. We want to move past our pain that causes such inherent distrust.
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Nirahsa set the stone in the bowl atop the others, waiting a few seconds as if she expected to hear Asharin deliver a retort about Nirahsa lumping her in with her. Instead there was just silence.
The Draenei drew in a breath before she then cast all of the stones into the fire, to burn away the burdens of all the Eredar at the Tishamaat.
“Thank you, Nirahsa,” Asharin’s voice in her head was unusually soft and muted, her normal edginess gone for the moment. Nirahsa just smiled to herself while watching the fire continue to burn.
“Nara’enil, wait, slo-” Before Leanna could finish, the female druid was already a nightsaber again, dashing away and firm in her belief they would follow. The demon hunter cursed, bolting after her without pause or glance at the remaining two members of the party.
Keep reading
As they dash into the writhing tunnels, the furbold sentries rush out to meet them. They appear to recognise the druids - at least both the three-legged Nara’enil and Asharin bringing up the rear with Gerrard - as friendly. There are enough of them to hold off any pursuers coming after them while the four of them make their escape.
Except that in time of war, the sole passage over the ravine has been taken back and forth by either side. Clashes and battles have taken place numerous times as in the area as Horde soldiers attempt to take this vital point. The wooden structure has met with better days.
“My gratitude friends!” She manages to growl out as she runs past the sentries. They shout something back. It sounded like “Be careful of the bridge”, but amidst their roars, it was barely audible. Leanna too, suddenly yells something, but the druid is single-minded in her pursuit to make it across the ravine and to the other side, where they will need to beeline southwards.
One, two, three, limp. And on the fourth step, the beam of the bridge finally cracks and collapses, aided by not only the various projectiles now being fired at it by the Forsaken soldiers in the distance, but also the heavy weight of the running druid and demon huntress behind her. Nara’enil, feeling herself fall, tries to call to Aviana’s aid the instance she meets air, but Leanna grabs her, and they both soar across to the other side safely.
“Thank you Leanna.” Her words come out as a deep purr as they meet the ground. Turning, she spots Asharin landing in a tumble with Gerrard in his talons and the barbed arrows striking the ground. Her brow knits as she snarls at the tunnels they have left behind, but trusts the furbolg to be able to call in their reinforcements. This is no time to dwell upon this.
“Come, before they go round the alternative routes.”
You believe, in the end, that you were always telling the truth. Because of course you would never actually lie, would you? You aren't creating any stories out of thin air, simply deciding to take some facts out of your story. In the end, you want the best for everyone, and if you have to slip from the light, so be it. Shying away from the truth wouldn't hurt anyone, after all.
//Now, the result I kind of agree with. Omission fits Asha in this scenario, but the explanation isn't that good of a match. He does not believe he told the full truth when he omits something, and is aware that is but a facet of the truth and never tried to convince hismelf otherwise. Not to mention that truth is not always objective.
Tagging: @ask-naraenil, @zeehva, @indraste-darktalon, @straightouttatheashes, @maxparkhurst and anyone else who would like to do it
Asharin totally has some kind of wax he uses on his horns/antlers.
"Seriously, how is it possible to be undecided about whether someone has horns or antlers?! Mine are -obviously- antlers..." Asharin huffed, arms crossing over his chest. "And yes, I do, though it is a relatively recent thing, thanks to my wife. She came up with the idea, not me."
