The words caught the beast off guard as he strolled through the quiet forest of Teldrassil, barefoot and allowing his ever-present trail of flowers to flow in his wake. Next to the tall blond had been a far shorter elf-shaped man, armed to the teeth in weaponry and dressed in form-fitting leather. While they were a stark contrast to one another, the words alone had drawn Jackary to a standstill.
“I... What?”
It was right after a family feast, right after a great speech had been given about coming changes and freedom and how deeply the rogue appreciated the family he had built over the years. The pair had been laughing together, reminiscing about the past... And suddenly…
Suddenly it made sense.
“Don’t fuck around with me like that, Lok’,” Jack couldn’t help but awkwardly laugh as if it was some stupid joke that his cousin had decided to drop. If he, in his early life, was a sigil of life, his best friend was the sigil of death. They complimented each other, they went everywhere together. Of all things, Lokitan was the reason Jack wound up in Azeroth in the first place.
“I wish I could,” Loki hummed, slowing to a standstill where he could finally light a cigarette he’d fetched and drew in a deep inhale, calming the nerves that were rising in the conversation at hand.”I am fadin’ away and I can feel it, won’t be long now.”
Jack stood silently in disbelief, the reason they had gone walking through an Alliance claimed territory wasn’t to simply ruffle some feathers, it was because it was where their journey had begun together. It was made clear when Jack looked anywhere but at his cousin, realizing he was in the near exact spot he’d appeared in his own crash landing.
‘So, what? You brought me out here to--”
“To say goodbye, yeah.” Cutting off the emerald, Lokitan lifted a crimson eye upward, staring for a long moment. He gave a small smirk. “It’ll be alright, you’ll be fine.”
Would he?
Claws pushed through Jack's long, unruly locks of hair to pull them back and up into a ponytail, keeping the weighted tresses from his face while it gave him time to think, “So just like that, you’re… You’re gone then. When--?” As he questioned just how long Lokitan had left, when he turned to face his cousin, he could already see parts of the rogue turning brittle, fluttering away in the faint, cool breeze around them like nothing more than ash.
“We have outstayed our welcome, you and I.” Lokitan drew in another slow inhale of his cigarette, pondering over what he wanted his final words to be. “We’ve also been through a lot, ever since we were little. We always got into so much shit, heh...” The shadowed dragon smirked to himself, baring a set of fangs in amusement. Bittersweet really, that it was to be Jackary he spent his final moments with when it had also been Jack that helped bring him into the world to cause chaos.
“Do you have any regrets…?” Jack asked quietly, finding himself fidgeting with his own fingers.
“A few,” Loki replied rather abruptly, wetting his lips while his vision raised to look up at the trees above, noting the stars beyond the greenery. “I regret not coming sooner to help you that night, I regret you binding your wings to service. I regret falling in love…” He trailed off at that point, seeming less inclined to want to discuss it.
Jack frowned further, still attempting to wrap his head around what was happening, and yet there he stood, speaking casually with the man that may as well have been his own brother, they were of flesh and blood. Two princes that ran away from home and carried their heritage only by name. Chaoti meant nothing in Azeroth. Jaden and Heran meant nothing, either. They were just names, something no one even blinked at. And of all of the travels the two had been through, the endless adventures or bickering or laughter or beauty or horror, suddenly it was just… ending.
Just like that.
Everything had an ending, certainly, but…
“Don’t leave me…”
Lokitan barked out a bout of laughter at that, smiling as he glanced over to Jackary, though he could see just how much the Emerald was hurting. Such caused that smile to falter. “I can’t stay…”
“You can....” Jack furrowed, shaking his head a bit before throwing his hand out to the side. “You of all people can stay! You can’t leave me..! YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!” The voice echoed through the quiet trees, ruffling the feathers of a few birds that flitted away, the echo faded soon after.
“Jackary... Don’t make this harder than it is.”
“No! Fuck you! Fuck you,” Jack inhaled a bit, eyes narrowed when the unnatural sting formed in their corners. Each motion became a pacing step back and forth, his hair swayed behind him. Flowers and grass only further grew outward from his position only to die once close enough to the stand-still rogue. “You brought me here. We came here together, I came here for YOU, WITH YOU! We promised each other we’d never leave one another’s side, you fucking LIAR! You promised, Lokitan Jaden! YOU PROMISED ME!”
Watching the Emerald struggle with anything brought on the protective nature of the small Infinite. Through the beast’s rapidly increased pacing, a hand reached over to suddenly grab Jack’s arm to yank him over and downward into a tight hug.
Loki never hugged anyone.
“Jackary…” He whispered softly, fondly in the captured drake’s ear. “You have been the only one in our family, our past, or history that has ever shown me kindness and love. You’ve had endless patience, you’ve also been a complete fuckwit and you deserve that scar on your chin for what you did, but… You’re going to be okay. You’re going to move forward from this and you will find a new life, a new love, and a new family. You will find people you belong to… Beyond our name, beyond our past transgressions…. Someday you’ll forget about the horrors..”
“I don’t want to…” When had Jackary hugged back? When had he been hunching and clinging so tightly that he could hear the groaning echoes of the leather giving way to the grasp? “Please, I’ve had you with me all my life… Please… I need someone to keep me sane, to keep me in check. Please don't go.”
“You’ll find someone who will stand up to you and your bullshit. You’ll find a warm home again. I know this…” Lokitan sank faintly into the larger male’s grip, feeling the weakening sensation growing even more. “I know this because you have an air about you and people will find you addictive to be around. Keep your wings... Keep your wings and soar…”
“Don’t make me stay here alone…” Nails bit into the leathers, though with every passing second, he could feel the tension of a body between his arms begin to wilt and crumble, he couldn’t even look. He couldn’t bring himself to see Lokitan fade away. A man who had saved his life and who had saved him from the horrors of his ex-wife. His best friend.
“I love you, Jackary Heran.”
Those were the final words that escaped before arms found themselves collapsing around nothing but an ash pile of leathers and knives. The weaponry clanked when it hit the forest floor, leaving the black dust to cling to Jackary’s figure.
When had he dropped to his knees?
When had it become so dark?
When had rain gradually washed the ash from his skin?
When had Loki known he was going to die and why hadn’t he told Jackary about it?
Rock after rock, stone after stone, a small, unmarked grave was built, tucked away where no adventurer could find it unless they knew where to look. A sleepless night was spent marking the spot where the rogue had finally fallen.
When had this happened?
When did the memory of it start to fade?
A grave that would be of importance later, but that was for another story.
In Azeroth, it was known as The Madness, The Darkening, the Dragon’s Sickness... The Nightmare. In many worlds, in millions of languages, it had endless names but it always meant the same thing. A corruption, often brought on by nightmarish feelings or situations, that ate the being alive, twisting it into something else entirely. Dragons fell particularly hard to such a toxic curse, especially.
This was no exception.
“DO NOT LET HIM GET INTO THE FOREST, WE’LL FUCKING LOSE HIM FOREVER!!”
Lokitan screamed as a mere handful of the Heran army raced upon war-bred Granondo, a clove-hooved type horse with coiled horns, best used to ram incoming enemies. Terrifyingly fast creatures that feared nothing in the heat of battle and yet they could not quite keep up with the terror streaking through the rotting fields of a dying wasteland and seemed even less inclined to get anywhere near it.
The target they hunted was a slithering creature running on all fours, bones twisted and inhuman with long tendrils of muddied hair, making the thing look even more sickly in the way that it hung over the face. Now and then, piercing silver eyes would dart back to see just how much closer its pursuers had come in the wild hunt, noting the way the warriors had begun to flank it. If only it could reach the edge of the forest, the beast would have a far better tactical advantage and a speed increase, let alone an easier time to attack those that hunted it.
“Loki!” A voice called out and soon a female rider pushed her steed up to the Dread Prince himself, eyes narrowed, glancing over in his direction. Fire blazed all around her, the snowy locks of her hair wild and free as a hellish set of crimson eyes flitted to the dark-haired rogue. “What do we do if it gets to the forest before we can reach him?!”
“You pray to your mother that we take him down before that.”
Chaos.
It was absolute chaos and he had just told her to pray to the deity that created it.
Inch after inch, Lokitan pressed forward, signaling the General’s finest men to continue flanking the beast, heels dug in harder into his skeletal Granondo to push onward and finally close in the distance of the skittering cretin running on all fours. Once close enough, the agile Prince pushed himself to crouch atop the saddle; he lunged, flickering through the very shadows to reappear right on top of the nightmarish beast. He dared not draw a weapon.
Not against this one.
The clashing form was greeted by the muddied, anemic animal twisting itself to bite hard at its would-be attacker, using the momentum to kick Lokitan right off and send him flying. That mere few seconds to protect itself was costing its safety to get into the forest. A loud shrieking cry pierced through the veil of carnage, knowing the chase was quickly coming to an end. Claws grabbed at the deep red mud below, years of war and corpses all around, the thick blood of countless soldiers meshed together with protected soils and painful, bitter rain. The slick surface had the creature try another attempt to break free, slipping the first few steps.
It was so close… The forest was but a hundred yards away.
Lokitan rolled through the slimy fighting ground, catching himself to snag at the beast’s ankle, yanking it back to throw it in the other direction. He was doing all he could to buy the warriors more time to position themselves and close in on the fighting pair.
“It doesn’t have to be this way, Jack.”
Melted silver raised from under the long strands of hair while the beast hunched itself further, a deep snarl and razored fangs revealed themselves in a warning. The aggressive display had Loki push himself to stand and raise his clawed hands, exposing that he was as unarmed as he could possibly be. He stared down at the nightmare-fueled version of his cousin, his best friend who he knew was in so much pain that he had allowed the darkness to consume his heart.
“Look at me, Jackary… I don’t want to hurt you, hn..?”
There was a brief pause and for a moment, the world stood still. Even the droplets of sweat and foul mud froze in place for a fraction of a second while the thing Lokitan referred to as ‘Jackary’ mulled over its choices. Heavy breaths of air pushed out, bellowed in smoke pouring from its twisted jaw that was filled with acidic drool that flopped to the ground in large globs - a clear sign of the beast’s stress.
“Let’s get you home… Let’s get cleaned up…” A leather-clad hand dared to reach for the unholy creation but within a blink of an eye, time sped back up. Teeth snapped at the grasp, claws raised to full-on attack the one being that kept the beast from the forest it was trying to get to.
“FUCKING--!” Loki found himself head to head with the writhing mass of acid-spitting, half-transformed wyrm, a Beast of Insanity that wore a Prince’s crown and who was upsetting the balance of life and death. Without one, there couldn’t truly be another. Every snap of the jowls and swipe of talons was blocked or barely dodged, up until Lokitan lost his footing.
Slipping, he found himself under those wild jaws, hands clasped the wide-open maw above him that threatened to clamp down on his face and bite his skull clean in half. Muscles ached, his posture shook from trying to push what was once his peaceful, loving cousin off him. It wasn’t until another bubbling mixture of acid was seen dripping from under the beast’s tongue that the rogue knew he was in deep trouble… He was going to have to hurt the beast or die.
One hand released the mouth and in a split-second decision, the palm shoved up hard to strike at the creature’s jawline, his intensely sharp claws sliced the beast’s right jaw, stunning and pushing it away, jarred in surprise. It left Lokitan with just the smallest leeway to raise his hand up in the air, giving a hidden signal.
The Insanity-addled creature hissed loudly but before it could turn to lunge the last few steps to disappear into the forest and become a haunting ghost, a slough of chains and ropes fell atop it, blanketing the wild creature. The engineered nets implanted themselves into the dirt below, radiating pulsations of electrical charges to stun the captured beast into a horrifying submission. The haunting screams of agony, half-human, half-dragon rang out in a near ear-shattering volume.
Only when it stopped struggling to even stand did the shocking currents of energy cease their barbaric, but effective, handling.
“Are you hurt?” The woman from earlier charged forward, sliding down from her fiery warsteed to help Lokitan up from the wet earth.
“No,” Lokitan spat out, snagging the hand to be hoisted up, wincing when it indeed hurt to put any sort of weight on one of his legs. Glancing down at it, he was sure there was likely a fracture somewhere... But now wasn’t the time to dawdle.
“Well, you’re not dead, dear brother, so…” Musing, she helped at least support the Dark Prince, glancing down at the wheezing, now bleeding beast. “This isn’t curable, you know. When someone falls to the Insanity, they don’t come back.”
“Untrue,” Loki quipped, hobbling over with his sister’s help until he was able to ease down and sit next to the captured animal. A gloved hand reached forward, pushing the black hair from its face to indeed reveal a half transformed Jackary, the silver spiral of his eyes a dead giveaway at the corruption. “There was a Priest once who fought it and contained it. Rumour has it he wanders around with a single spiral eye, hn? Fucked up shit.”
The woman sighed, almost huffing while a hand motioned down to what remained of Jack. “Look at him, Lokitan. Half transformed, his brain isn’t fucking in there anymore. Put the thing out of its misery and let the avatar of Life be passed down elsewhere. It’ll rebirth by tomorrow, save your own ass.”
“No.” Lokitan took a moment to grip the skull before him, pinning the dragon further as a small crimson glow overtook his eyes. “He was never meant to hurt anyone, it was her that drove him to this.”
“Yeah, well, she’s pretty fucking dead, now isn’t she?”
A hand waved the antsy woman off, freeing Lokitan to simply focus on the inner workings of the beast before him. It was a rare trick the Rogue had up his sleeve and normally it was used to delve into someone’s memories, to unlock what terrifies them the most to use it against them… But what if, he thought, what if he could use it in reverse?
Time ticked by, allowing the dark, shadowy tendrils of his own essence to seep into Jackary’s form, filtering through and plucking every little bit of the corruption to neatly gather it within. A simple box was made at first, deep inside the dragon’s brain. Soon it was locked away and chained relentlessly to his psyche. A personality that he could never escape from, one that in time, would briefly show a fraction of itself and be referred to as…
Naga.
“M’sorry…” Loki whispered while he worked, remolding and melding Jackary’s very essence and memories to pull him from an otherwise impossible return. It was an attempt to do this or be forced to kill him and Lokitan wasn’t sure he inwardly had the power to do that. “You were designed to never forget.. But if you always remember, there is no saving you from the corruption that has been planted within you.”
Lokitan frowned, rubbing his thumb slowly, sweetly along Jackary’s forehead, the beast had long since stopped trying to fight back. It was lethargic.
“I am taking this from you, Jackary. This thing that turned you into something you aren’t.” Lokitan cooed, almost fondly at his twisted cousin as each memory leading up to a certain event was plucked and stolen away and yet what Lokitan hadn’t realized was that in making such a small hole in Jack’s memory, it served as an endless void. A slow-drip leak that would cause him to forever forget things after a while. A blessing and a curse in the future, but at that moment, when Lokitan gazed down and saw the beginnings of Peridot return to those eyes, he knew it was the best decision he could have made.
---
Darnath quietly clamped the journal closed with a small squeeze to the spine, the entry had been written in a far different font and form which made him think that perhaps Lokitan had written it instead. But... Where the memory that had been stolen was placed was beyond the Dragonsworn.
Stormy grey pools glanced at the snoozing blond curled against his side. Jack, in an elven form, had been cozying up for a small nap while his Knight read, blissfully unaware of what haunting stories Darnath had been refamiliarizing himself with once more. The Champion glanced to the spine of the journal, noting the number upon it, and raised his vision upward. The book he was really looking for must have been the one right before this… Maybe that one held the answer he was looking for.
What had once been an unmarked grave had been decorated with a simple gravestone, the only words etched across it had been LOKITAN CHAOTI. A plain-looking decoration, nothing truly fancy, certainly nothing that would garner the attention of anyone who would desecrate it. It was in a peaceful part of Teldrassil, a place that had a beginning, a middle, and an end in several parts of a fated story.
Before it stood Jack and Darnath, hand in hand.
It had become a tradition, something that Jack once first dragged Darnath with and rambled on for an entire evening about Lokitan, lost in alcohol and memories of laughter and tears and the Dragonsworn had smiled through it all each time he got to witness such a frail side of his dragon. It was such a bonding moment each and every time and it had become a simple habit. Once a year, it was a date marked off that they went to the forest to mark several anniversaries in one but it always started with visiting the Infinite’s resting place.
Year after year, yes. But it had become increasingly darker each and every time they went there, the blips of memories that Jack reminisced about were fading until one day… That one fateful day.
“I don’t even know who this is,” Jack admitted quietly under his breath after having been silent for quite some time; he furrowed a bit. “But they have my last name, so… Gotta be important to visit them, right?”
Such words drove a small pang into Darnath’s heart, the steady realization that one day, he and Azurick would suffer the same fate. He, too, would be the most important person in the world - the one Lokitan foretold Jackary of - and still be nothing but a faded memory if time marched on long enough.
“I just feel the need to come here… For someone, I don’t know.” Don’t remember? No, Jack had stopped trying to face his memory loss long ago, the thought was too painful but in his quiet lament, he hadn’t even realized one thing.
Darnath knew and he remembered.
While Jack was asleep, the Knight had poured over the countless diaries and journals the dragon kept, such a vast, extensive, and meticulous library of Jackary’s life story, his knowledge and memories were written in those pages, ones that Jack would never read himself. How could he read something in his own penmanship that he wouldn’t have remembered? It was far too upsetting.
The only thing the Dragonsworn could do was squeeze the hand firmly within his own, turning his attention toward the blond. Jack glanced back in return and smiled, blissful in his ignorance. The dragon even leaned over to nuzzle his cheek at Darnath’s, transferring his scent to his Knight, contentedly so.
“Still, thank you for coming with me, it means a lot.” A soft voice chirped, nearly silenced by a thieving kiss from the demon’s lips.
“Always.” A simple answer, an answer that Darnath often used and Jack took for granted. Though in the gloom realization, the Dragonsworn took the time to think it over - he had recalled reading something about Lokitan, many-a-thing in a particular book. Musing the thought over, Darnath made a mental note to find it later and skim back over the pages. If Jackary couldn’t remember the most pivotal moments of his life, Darnath would remember them for him. That would be his ball and chain.
It had been two weeks before the wedding and it was to be the last time Jackary and Darnath would ever see that grave again.
Just like Jack’s memories, so too would the Tree and grave burn and fade from life.
That’s how all great fantasy stories started, wasn’t it?
Once upon a time in a land far, far away at some indiscernible time. It was a time that Jackary had still been home, when he was young, barely reaching his first century of age. Wild and free and the most carefree of hearts. Trailing behind him wherever his feet touched left blooming flowers in his wake and in the air, his wings were the fastest in all of the land.
Beautiful. Powerful. Agile.
When the Emerald took to the sky there was none faster, none happier to soar. He was in a league all of his own. Dragons were greedy creatures with their own prized possessions that he held above life itself, and his were the translucent wings that gave him true freedom from responsibilities of being heir to a Kingdom he didn’t want to be a part of.
He and Lokitan were young and reckless, they wanted adventure, not the slavery that came with being princes or royalty or even avatars. Two teenagers wanting to play outside, dreaming through their imaginations until they were forced to return home. It was when they grew older that Jack flying through the air was a symbol of hope, a turning tide through battles of war. A beacon of peace and happiness.
Of joy.
“I want you to be my Soulsworn,” Lokitan spoke one night, out upon the balcony of his father’s black castle, forged from the embers of a volcanic mountain in ages past. He had been in on his second glass of wine, his own coronation of becoming a Prince of age and he was spending it with Jackary at his side, both happy and joyous through such a high caliber celebration.
“What? Really?” Jack mused and yet he puffed his chest, beaming with a sense of growing pride. To be a Soulsworn, a trusted Knight, a Kingsglaive, a Dragonsworn and protector… It was the highest rank and honour one of the Military could obtain. Jack should have had his own and yet he never bothered to bond. No one was worthy. Dragons weren’t meant to be Oathsworn to others of their kind but the pair didn’t care.
“Yeah, really,” Lokitan replied, turning to face the blond-haired elven form, staring up at the towering male with a curious gaze. There was but a single problem that came with taking on such a position… “But what would you put up as a sacrifice?”
“Easy, my wings,” Jackary beamed with confidence, glancing out across the breathtaking view of the valleys below, glittering with stardust from the chilled evening air. His attention drifted back to his cousin, fangs bared in his ever-charming, bright grin. “Why not?”
“I was afraid you’d say that,” Loki couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. “You know that you lose whatever you give your oath on if you break it, right?”
“Are you saying that I would break my oath to you and forsake my wings? Never.”
“Alright then, your wings it is.”
That night, that happy, carefree night was so long ago.
Now, within the bowels of Blackrock Spire, upon one of the chained pillars dangling above the ever-churning lava, Jackary was hunched over and covered in sweat and ash. Blood dribbled down from a head wound, his body ached from the scratches and scuffs bleeding all over his form. Lokitan’s wish before he took Jackary to the tree and simply faded away was but one thing… He asked the Oath be upheld.
Protect them.
Guard them for me, as you did me.
You are my Soulsworn, even in death.
Standing before Jackary had been a Black Drake who had taken one of Lokitan’s so-called adopted family members hostage after he’d been mistreated. They were only in this position because the one who abused the power knew he could smugly get away with it. Jackary would always be there in a blink of an eye, summoned like a fighter into the ring to protect the snobby little brat. It was abuse.
It nearly cost Jack his life, but more importantly, the tiny wretch nearly cost someone else theirs to bail them out yet again. It had been that way for months, every other day the Sindorei cried wolf, picked fights where he simply summoned a dragon to bully those he did wrong into submission.
Pointless.
Jack was exhausted, pushed to the edge of madness, and without Lokitan there, he had begun to wonder just why he was still putting up with this. To stop would mean to lose what he so desperately cherished and yet…
“Help Jack... I’m uh... I’m hurt! This guy is going to kill me!”
The familiar voice, right on cue, echoed through the dragon’s brain, derailing the thoughts that he had been trying to keep to himself. The sound of disappointment, truly one person carried that entire weight. His very soul had given up, he was defeated, delirious, nothing was worth this sort of torture.
Nothing.
Nothing at all.
“I revoke my oath…” He whispered, his voice barely carried over the link all that carried the mark of Chaoti shared, the pained words pushed through dried, cracked lips. He had barely had time to clean himself up from the battle the night before.
“What..?”
“I revoke my oath…” He said it again a bit louder, tilting his head up to the sky slowly as tears pushed out of the corners of his eyes, falling with little warning or care. “I revoke my Oath to Lokitan Chaoti, to the Chaoti Clan. I revoke my name and right to the crest.”
A sudden burning sensation erupted from his shoulder blades, causing Jackary to cry out from the sharp pain, lurching forward to try and brace himself for what was about to happen. This agony would be temporary, he had to tell himself that.
“I forsake my collateral…” In the final words, the hellfire skittered up those wonderful wings that flared out in an attempt to get away from the heat, burning through the membrane and skin, incinerating the bones, ligaments, and joints that carried the beast to any and all freedom he ever wanted. The pain was supposed to be temporary and even the fire that engulfed and destroyed part of himself cauterized the wounds on his back, leaving horrific scars down either side of his spine. The spellbinding chains that had once bound him to a fallen prince now released him without mercy.
The flame swallowed him whole.
His life flashed before his eyes, what few memories he retained, including the night he took the Oath. They melted away as too did his wings.
When the unbinding of his wings had been completed, the shadowy tendrils that made up his Chaoti sigil tattooed into his left forearm erupted, ripping right from the skin as if the skin were simply yanked free, causing another pained scream to rupture from his throat.
Everything went silent.
There, Jackary laid on his side, staring at his bloodied forearm where his family crest had been for thousands of years, covered in the ashes of what once made him the happiest beast to ever roam any galaxy. Everything hurt. His body, his soul, his pride, the guilt was so thick that he couldn’t even swallow to ease his dry throat.
The pain would only be temporary…
The pain would be temporary…
The pain…
Eyes closed in the silence, letting his entire body shut down out of shock until only soft breaths could be heard in the darkness he’d found himself in. Maybe he could have slept through this nightmare and awoken, maybe he could have rested…
“I can smell that candy on your breath from over here.”
The voice chimed in from the shadows out of nowhere, seemingly surrounding what had been the pudged up blond who had still been licking a bit of taffy that was stubbornly stuck within a fang. Jack paused the futile attempts to wedge the gooey treat free and glanced around, ears perked in alert.
As a mystical feline of a far off book would have done, shadows evaporated from a figure that had rested himself within the doorway, arms folded over tight leathers and adorned weaponry. The crimson hue peered at Jack with a collected gaze, his face still forever hidden behind long bangs and a damaged mask.
“Kit!” Jack all but squeaked in excitement, dropping the bucket of candy that had been resting on his lap, wrappers everywhere around him. He hadn’t even taken Darnath’s warnings in not eating too much candy and inwardly he knew he would regret it -- but not for the moment!
Upon the nickname used, Lokitan nodded his head lightly in greeting, letting dark lashes fall over the reddened eye. “You must have been out Trick or Treating, hn?”
“Dar took me! It was a lot of fun, stole a lot of candy, some people even turned us into little cursed creatures while we were trying to run away. Care for some?”
“You know I don’t eat sweets...” The Rogue ever so subtly shifted his frame, but it was enough to keep the Mage’s attention completely. “Still a kid at heart, you’ll never grow up, hn?”
“Well... Not on Halloween or Christmas, no. If you keep being this serious all the time, you’re going to die before you even hit four.”
“Three is enough... I can barely stomach the idea of nine.” The shadowed dragon that still continued to watch smirked faintly and shook his head -- the hand that was nothing more than infinite-coloured claws waved Jackary off in a teasing fashion. “Eternity is simply not my thing anymore.”
Jackary stared for a long moment, the words allowed his decorated audits to fall back in thought. Lips parted, wanting to say something, but he pursed his lips instead, wetting them to stall. “Something’s on your mind.... You don’t ever venture out of your War Table unless you’re on an issued mission or something is wrong.”
Caught red-handed, Lokitan blinked briefly, lofting his pierced brow before a soft sigh escaped. His body even slouched against the door frame. “Never could keep anything from you, hn?”
“Is this about your ex?” Straight to the point, the Mage shifted almost uncomfortably at the topic, for what good as he at relationship advice? “I saw him in Silvermoon.. I mean I know you got my letter, but have you, like... y’know... Seen him?”
“Mm....” Loki’s attention lowered to the floor a moment to gather his thoughts, even daring to chew absently at the scar along his hidden lip.The smaller male found himself doing everything he could to avoid eye contact with the Emerald across the room.
Jack wilted further upon watching the quiet male, daring to finally take a few steps towards him. “Oh, Kit...” What else was he to do? What else could he say? The dragon stopped near his cousin, refusing to touch him just yet as hands rubbed together, fidgeting at the awkward tension suddenly filling his home.
Lokitan was quick to shake his head, refusing to lift his gaze in quiet fear that the hurt feeling that twisted his stomach would show in the thin-slitted hues. “It’s fine.”
“Not if you’re showing up at my house at three in the morning.”
“It’s different now, Jack. We’re both different... Not the same foolish drakes we used to be. He’s got his own concerns, I have my own damned army to--”
“Stop.” Jack narrowed his eye and reached over, finally snagging the tiny Rogue firmly into his arms. Nuzzling at his family, more so atop the dark locks of hair, a faint whimper dared to escape. “Have you told him?”
“No,” came the soft answer from the normally stoic man. Arms finally lifted to hug firmly onto the taller dragon, allowing Loki to simply hide against Jack’s chest. “I’m not sure I can...”
Jack frowned a bit more, nodding lightly before hands began to soothe along the familiar leather of his cousin. “I understand... Well uh! We have a guest bedroom, if you like? I’m sure Dar ‘n Az wouldn’t mind you staying the night?”
There was no answer for the moment, instead all Loki could give was a small nod. It had been along time since Jack had babied his younger cousin or taken care of him and it had likely been a sight to see him coddle a male over a foot shorter than he was.
Camping was always something that Jack enjoyed and going with friends and family was even more exciting because it meant a lot of good memories to be had. Somehow, he’d managed to convince his cousins and the pup of the family onto a camping expedition into Draenor, if only for the weekend. Two small tents and four people, Jack knew that Aeli would have fought tooth and nail to be able to stay close to Loki for the weekend and Jackary happily obliged, having always been very fond of Wynd since the first time they met.
The evening hour was late and Jack hadn’t paid attention when he was cuddled up under the blankets, the cold rain outside dropped the temperatures considerably, in which all three dragons were simply not having the best of time with. The burst of cold air caused his eyes to slowly open when the covers were lifted, but when a warm frame pressed to his own, the body heat of the two males was quick to rewarm the blankets they shared with. Bare flesh against his own didn’t phase the elder dragon whatsoever. he’d helped heal and baby the younger male before, scales and skin weren’t much different in some aspects.
Staring out into the void darkness of the sky, the Mage sat alone with a bottle of wine and a half pack of cigarettes. He hadn’t smoked in a while, yet tonight seemed needy of the toxins to soothe his mind. It had been nerve-wracking enough to approach Gentil and explain to him that Jack’s life was about to change drastically, but shortly after explaining to the Priest that Azurick and Darnath seemed standoffish and not wanting anything to do with the dragon anymore, Dar had whispered their typical notions of what they considered ‘love’ to each other. Not something anyone else would take correctly, but when Azurick also spoke to him for a brief amount of time, Jack became conflicted.
He was confused, baffled that so many things had changed so drastically and he couldn’t seem to grasp ahold of anything anymore. He didn’t understand mortals, it was clear as day.
“Copper for your thoughts...” a deep voice rumbled from the surrounding night, causing Jackary to come back to life and flick his cigarette, ashing away the burned remains.
“Just lost in them, as usual.” Jack admitted, pulling the cigarette to his mouth to take a slow, steady drag. “What brings the great and powerful Lokitan to my humble presence?” he teased, flitting his vision to finally face the Rogue within the doorway.
“Antulien came into the Garrison screaming like a madman about you sailing off through the seas with a blind pirate.”
“Captain,” Jack corrected, exhaling the rest of the smoke. “Blind Captain.”
“... Even worse.” A sigh escaped the masked lips while the lithe frame leaned against the doorway, one leg crossed over the other in a casual stance, comfortable in his own positioning. “Is something wrong, Jack? I know you’re spontaneous, but even this is left field.”
“I wanted a new aspect of my life, tired of being a city pet. I missed the adventures of being outside, the excitement of going into the unknown with a team.”
“Why did you pick him, then? Why a man who cannot see the sea?”
Jackary thought about the question for a long moment, wetting his lips smoothly until a sip of the wine was taken from the short glass clasped within his fingertips. “Do you honestly want to know why I chose him out of all of the Pirate Captains I met in a single night?”
“Entertain me with the answer, hn..?”
“You see, Kit...” Jackary sat up slowly, setting the wine down only to ash his cigarette again. “When they were all having their squabbles instead of working together, I watched how all of them acted and reacted towards each other. This guy walked away from the bullshit, he didn’t want the drama of getting himself or his crew involved in a sudden trial.”
The cigarette was put to his lips again before it was delicately placed between them, allowing it to bounce with each word he spoke after. “They took several cheap shots at the man. His vision, or lack thereof... his crew, his boat, his debt... And do you know what he did?”
“Kill them all and won a dragon over out of awkward chivalry?”
“He didn’t do shit.” came an exhale that bellowed with a breath of smoke. “He brushed it off as if it was nothing, as if they were nothing. When the others insulted each other, it riled them up but this Captain? He wouldn’t take it. All things considering, you’d think he’d be at a handicap, especially his situation with his odd vision... But he can still see, he can still sense it. He didn’t fall into a greedy, petty fight because a bunch of others of his same rank took a few cheap shots at his expense.”
Staring at Jack for a long moment, Loki allowed himself to process the logic that was filling his head and with a sigh, his head shook slowly. “That’s it? Really? A man gets insulted and walks away, winning a dragon because of it?”
“Who better of a Captain deserves something like you and me on his crew than the man who can’t see what I am and who isn’t petty enough to be dragged into worthless fights? What better gift does the sea give than a dragon to the Captain that deserves such a seeing eye dog? I thought he handled himself beautifully, so I spoke to him and now here we are. He had a vague idea of what I am thanks to his lil’ bag-o-bones Kurtis and he didn’t turn me away. Neither of them did... I’m sure they likely have their reservations, it’s only to be expected.”
“... You’re honestly going to defend a Pirate Captain.”
“The ship’s mine,” Jack teased, only half-assed jokingly considering the down payment that was placed to start the crew at an even amount. “In all reality, maybe I just miss serving someone... Or maybe I’ve found someone who may be worth it. Time will tell.” finally relinquishing the cigarette, it was pushed down into the ground firmly, snuffing out the last of the burning embers.
“Time, hn?”
“You see a man’s true colours during the worst of a situation. He may think that I have to prove myself, my usefulness and my loyalties to him, but I don’t think he realizes that day after tomorrow? He proves that he deserves an Emerald under his command.”
The house had been quiet, but within the night, the lights had been aglow, lighting up the nest Gentil had created for Jackary. Within it there had been four figures sitting around, guitars in hand of two, another was toying with the piano that had made it’s way into the beautiful surroundings.
Fireflies were swirling around, crickets chirping ever so sweetly and as the laughter of four males escaped, they all began to quiet down, lowering their voices. It was a perfect evening, warm and sweet in the scent of spring.
“Okay, okay.” Aeredyn grinned, motioning. “Let’s hear the new damn song, Jack.” he chirped.
“I’m not singing this one,” Lokitan remarked lazily, leaning back against a pillow while he continued to idly strum the guitar that was within his lap. “Especially if it’s a love song. I never signed up to be a lead singer of this weird boy band.”
“Buh... I mean what... I didn’t write a new song,” Jack huffed, cheeks puffed while he continued to tune his own guitar carelessly.
“Don’t fuck with me man, I saw the sheet music near the piano.”
“Just because you prefer drums doesn’t mean we haven’t heard you sing before, idiot.” Zaer replied smoothly, sitting at the bench of the piano. For such a threatening Warrior, to see him at an elegant instrument almost seemed quite off.
“Seriously, bro,” Aero coaxed again, grinning while he slouched further. “Come on, you should do it. Just once. Sing one song, I want to hear.”
“But I---” Jack stammered, cheeks reddening.
“Aero hasn’t heard you sing, hn?” Loki questioned, lofting his pierced eyebrow at the others, strumming a single chord to assure the guitar was set before it was returned to it’s rightful owner. Even as Aeredyn took it, the Paladin shook his head in confirmation towards the Rogue.
Jackary puffed his cheeks and glanced down at the guitar in his own hands, idly strumming a few chords ever so gracefully. The blush formed over his face, but he wet his lips, swallowing hard. With a slow inhale, Jack’s eyes closed to calm himself, the voice that escaped seemed to almost echo sweetly.
“Heart beats fast, colors and promises...”
Falling quiet, Loki, Aero and Zaer watched in disbelief and for as long as Zaer and Loki had known Jackary, even they seemed breathless, speechless from the tune. They watched the Mage sway in the beat he was strumming, the song carried out and into the house.
He was unaware if his full blown voice and volume could have been heard from the windows so close to his nest and the tree he often climbed into, if only to wave to Gentil once in a great while. He had been quite passionate about music and when singing, Jack always lost himself to the rhythm. It was enough to raise the hairs along the occupant’s skin, for it had become obvious just who it was written for.
