#day72020

[tristennedarkmorn]

Day 7 - Betrayed @daily-writing-challenge​

The temptation was too much knowing what he did now. His previous conversation with Taric planted the thought in his mind, and it was impossible to rid himself of it.  Red knew of the Maw, a place where the most vile and irredeemable of souls spent their afterlives, locked away for eternity. He couldn’t help but wonder if she would have gone there if her soul had been allowed to pass all those decades ago.  Now, he knew she would end up there.  That was an absolute fact, because apparently all souls were now being sent there.

Maybe that shouldn’t have been his first thought when Taric explained the full situation of why everything was currently fucked. But after her utter betrayal all those years ago, Red had taken to finding all sorts of ways to torture Bianca, even though her physical form was long gone from this world.  She deserved every bit of it, and more. This was, perhaps, his opportunity to finally give her a fitting punishment, and a way to fully rid himself of her influence.

It would be easy enough to lure her in.  He never once tried to pass her over before, wanting to keep her in a place where he could still have access to her spirit. She would never assume that this was his scheme. It would be so easy.

But…and there was always a but…

This was an issue that would, more than likely, come to light in some horrible manner. At least that was both his and Taric’s assumption. Light forbid this damn world have a moment of peace. This was upsetting the delicate balance, and sure, it was the Shadowlands, but eventually the news would spread and death would become an even greater fear than it already was for many.

He would allow the temptation to remain as just a thought. For now.

[kharrisdawndancer]

Beach

Day 6

Dance/Betrayal

The beach sand was getting chilly between her toes, the sun having set over an hour prior. The air teased at her hair and plucked it up to shiver over her long ears. Stars were plentiful this far from the city. Waves rolled in, then out, and she felt their implacable dance tugging at the tides of her soul.

There was a tiny sandbar island not far. Their island, Khaeris thought to herself. It was a beacon, and over the years, it had been a goal on dozens of swimming lessons. She was always set back when Pollux was gone. She didn’t force herself out here much. The old dance between wanting to learn to swim and the fear that held her back would start up again. She could stay here on the beach quite happily. She could just have a nice night camped on the sand. Or she could force herself into the water to practice. It would take some time to muster up the courage, Khaeris knew.

So she started with a simple levitation cantrip and steps that danced on top of the water. The soles of her feet tickled by the caps of the gentle waves, foam bubbling over her heel. Kicks and spins and even small leaps took her closer to the island. She laughed, freedom mixing with loneliness was nothing new, but dancing always cheered her. Her heart could not betray her with fear if she was dancing.

When she hit the sand again, she was flushed from exertion and her smile was beaming as bright as the moonlight. She’d swim back. Maybe. Or maybe she’d just dance some more or sleep here.

[aidandawningblade]

“Betrayed”

“If I was dying on my knees I know no one will rescue me But if you were drowned at sea I’d give you my lungs so you could breathe” So this is how it would be Those words rung bitterly through Aidan’s mind as walked through the gates of Silvermoon for the first time in years. It had been... Almost six years since he left, and the disgust on the guards expressions as he walked by was clear. Those lips coiled in a grim frown, hand lifting to pull his cowl further over his head

The only sound was plated footsteps carrying Aidan through the City, coming to a pause every now and again, lichfire hues studying his surroundings from beneath the brim of his cowl. The occasional rotten fruit was thrown towards him, curses in Thalassian, before the Ebon Knight came to a pause before one of the massive Arcane Guardians, his gaze slowly turning up to meet the construct, before he moved on. The next pause was before the mighty fountain within the Court of the Sun, fingers lightly tapping against his thigh, before he shook his head. Turning on one heel, Aidan found himself face to face with a towering Sin’dorei, emerald eyes staring down at the man.  “You were at Lights Hope.” The soldier spoke after a long moment, that piercing gaze seeming to burn a hole right into the emptiness of Aidan’s mind. “...No.” The Knight responded, aiming to move past the man, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder. “So was I.” The warrior finished, holding the Knights gaze for that moment.

Aidan sighed, stepping back and folding his arms over his chest “Alright. Fine. I was there, what do you want? Have you never learnt not to interrupt a man whilst he’s brooding?” The Knight replied, his words scathing. “The Ebon Blade was betrayed and twisted to work for a master who sent them to die. My name is Alexander Iceblade, and I lead a private military organization. I know of your affliction, and of the requirements that come alongside it. I offer a way to deal with such.” He responded, drawing a card from his pocket and handing it to Aidan, before turning and walking away. Vanishing into the crowds as quickly as he’d appeared. He knew of the affliction, he claimed. Knew of the requirements, of what Aidan must do. But did he know what Aidan had done? The choices he’d made, how many he’d betrayed? That much was doubtful.  With the interruption gone, however, Aidan slid the card into his pocket, setting off towards the gates of the city once more. That was enough of the past for one evening. He’d try again tomorrow.  Perhaps, he’d find the one he’d tormented whilst under the Lich Kings command.  Perhaps, he could begin to make amends. Mentions: @alexandericeblade​  @spellthieve​ @daily-writing-challenge​

[rylandfalkov]

Daily Writing Challenge Day 7 - Dance

Before she had started teaching at a dance studio, Myrna Falkov had spent the majority of her life on a stage. She was known for her beauty and her grace, but unfortunately the career of a dancer was often short-lived.  She married soon after, had her first son, Corben, and settled into the role of a housewife. It wasn’t until her husband had passed that she sought a teaching position at a local dance studio to keep up with the bills. Corben had zero interest in dancing, turning to sports instead like his father had wanted for him. It left Myrna often lonely and unable to truly connect with her son despite her best efforts.  

That’s when Ryland came into the picture.  He was the product of a drunken evening shared with a random Quel’dorei when Corben was 10 years old. Ryland’s life was difficult from the very start given his heritage and was often bullied, even by his own brother. In order to escape all of it, he often found himself sitting through his mother’s classes.  He was enamored by her advanced students and would often mimic their movements as he watched from the side, and every day Myrna would stay hours later with Ryland to teach him everything she knew. Soon enough, he was at the top of all of his classes.  He was an eager and fast learner, and began spending more time in the dance studio than his mother did.

Life hadn’t gone as planned.  His mother had died when he was only 12, leaving his older brother to take care of him. Corben left him to fend for himself more often than not, not that he minded, the two had barely anything in common and Ryland was well aware that his brother was embarrassed by his half-elf sibling. So he continued to develop his skills on his own, hoping to live out his and his mother’s dream of him being a professional just like she was.  Unfortunately, his ‘look’ was never what they wanted, despite his talent being far above the majority of the others.

It was the need for money that drove him to audition for one of the local underground nightclubs. They didn’t care so much about race there, they just wanted a pretty face, a tight body, and moves that would draw and keep attention. That, he could do. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what his mother had in mind when she wanted him to perform on stage, but she would still be proud. Dance had truly been the saving grace for him, and still was in many ways.

@daily-writing-challenge​