VISUAL ATTRACTIVENESS: 💗💗💗
“Well... speaking in strict confidence... I do find her unkempt appearance rather... vexing. It is alluring and not, all at once. difficult to describe. Her age is noticeable as well. But she is rather fit and able-bodied. A graceful aged look, beneath all the mud and grime.”
FRIENDSHIP LEVEL: 💗💗💗💗
“Our friendship has been damaged, due to my actions. Not irreversibly so, thankfully; she is forgiving, and understanding. I feel we are close friends and confidants.”
SEXUAL DESIRE: 💗💗💗💗
“--Wh-what? She is the High Vindicator’s betrothed! I... I would not even consider such a notion!
...
...
...however, if such weren’t the case, I would certainly pursue such intimacies. And I have in the past, before knowing of the aforementioned betrothal. She is wildly enticing in an inexplicable manner. I have no regrets about our past encounters-- except the false pretenses, of course! Which, I would state were not my fault!”
ROMANTIC INTENT: 💗
“--Again, she is betrothed to the High Vindicator! Even if not, I do not imagine we uphold similar enough values, or share comparable life experiences to be very romantically compatible. Mierne is a suitable friend, but... thus marks the extent of the potential between us.”
Continuing some sketch art of my OCs. Had to jump up on my character list for this one, as she’s quickly climbed to the top as my main PvE. I just… I love playing shaman so much <3 Meet Mierne ( @miernethepersevering ),my Draenei Shaman. Drawn and colored with Rebelle 3, Photoshop CS6 and Wacom Cintiq tablet. ~*~*~ Ko-fi | DeviantArt |
Boralus felt somehow familiar to Argonas. He’d grown accustomed to human architecture, certainly. But it was beyond that. The sounds, the smells, the overall aesthetic resonated with Argonas’ memories. Perhaps his time aboard the Quel’Telan - that ocean smell, that refreshing sea breeze, the gulls and the harbor bells… Civilization. He’d been far removed from it, for easily a year... or more? He wasn’t entirely sure. It felt bittersweet to be back. He felt so out of place… yet precisely where he needed to be. Surreal.
He had stowed his Vindicator’s armor. As comfortable as it was to adorn it again, he somehow didn’t feel worthy of it. Not yet. The Light had only just returned to him. And while he’d been practicing - reacquainting himself with its warmth - he was hardly as proficient with it as he once was. Certainly not as proficient as a true Vindicator ought to be. The armor rested once more in the armor crate he’d brought with him, and locked away in Boralus’ counting house. He’d wear it again someday. But not today.
Instead, he adorned an old plated set he wore in Northrend. It fit a younger Argonas well - as he was now, a little tightly. But it served its purpose. He sheathed his crystalline mace to his belt clip, and secured his shield to his back - still irreversibly damaged from his fighting on Argus. Scarred, as many things that returned from that hellish planet were. Serviceable, nonetheless, like the rest of his attire.
Seeing Sylaess here both raised his spirits and dampened them all at once. He was happy that some of his old friends yet survived, and continued to fight. But the last time he’d seen her was Tanaan… devoid of the Light’s warmth, but blessed by the warmth of Sinafay’s companionship. He couldn’t deny it; he missed her terribly. No one connected with him like she did. He’d tried already to fill the Sina-shaped hole in his heart, left behind when she died in his arms. But no one fit. There was only perhaps one who might come close… and she’d returned to Azeroth recently, he learned.
That was why he was here, after all. To find Sinafay - the one he’d trained on Draenor, brought to the Light and instilled his faith and honorable beliefs into. When he learned she’d returned, he knew he had to find her. But he didn’t know where she was, precisely. Only the name of one who did - Avehi.
Avehi knew Boralus well, by now. From the grounds of the regal Keep to the shadiest tavern on the dockside, she was well-acquainted with the Kul Tiran capital. And frankly… she didn’t care for it. It was nice enough, but hardly anywhere she cared to reside for more than a day or two. She much prefered Stormwind between visits to the warfronts. But at Mierne’s behest, she ventured back to Boralus to find a person of interest. Great interest. Someone Avehi felt like she knew well enough, second hand, after Sinafay’s incessant praising and daydreaming about him. It would be nice to put a face to the mythical name she’d heard over and over again - Argonas.
Word was he died on Argus. News of the Tower spread quickly through the ranks. And the death of a Vindicator wasn’t something that generally went unknown among other Vindicators. Word of his demise spread quickly enough, reaching her ears during her time there. She mourned his loss; not so much for his sake, but for Sinafay’s.
But now, he was revealed to be alive. How great a friend she’d turn out to be if she managed to deliver Argonas to Sinafay - hopefully raising both their spirits after such a devastating return to Azeroth it had been for both of them. Her tail flickered excitedly at the prospect - to see the look on Sinafay’s face… All she had to do now was find him. It shouldn’t be too hard, though - she needed only find a big Vindicator that looked lost as could be in the Kul Tiran capital.
Her lichfire eyes darted from Draenei face to Draenei face, sizing up each of the males that passed her by as she looked out over the Tradewind Market. He wasn’t a Lightforged… at least, not that Mierne had mentioned. She hoped he wasn’t, nonetheless… her issues with the Lightforged Draenei grew every day. She kept to eyeing the normal Draenei, scanning each face as she looked for Argonas. One too short, one too old… one looked like he was, perhaps, Argonas - but upon closer inspection, he was clearly a mage of some kind. Avehi sighed.
--Then she saw him. She was sure of it! Broad shoulders, plated armor, the look of a Vindicator, lost and unfamiliar with his surroundings. She approached him, cutting across the crowd until she was upon him.
“Vindicator Argonas.” she stated, rather than asked.
Argonas turned, a hint of nervousness in his eye as he looked Avehi over. Then his expression turned rather stern. Almost... hostile.
“Avehi… the Adamant.” he stated back.
The name sounded familiar to him, when Mierne spoke it. But it was only when he saw her for himself - undeath notwithstanding - that he recognized her from days long past. Avehi, however, presumed that perhaps Mierne had shared her title and name both with him, after they parted.
“Correct. A pleasure to meet you, surely.” she responded, as she looked him over. “I have heard a great deal about you from both Sinafay and Mierne.”
Argonas’ scoffed at that, stoic face faltering for a moment as he considered what exactly Mierne may have told her about him. It didn’t matter. He shook his head.
“You do not recognize me, yourself?”
Avehi blinked. She furrowed her brow, curiously, before shaking her head.
“I… don’t. I’m not sure we’ve ever met.” she replied.
Argonas responded with a hollow, sarcastic laugh. He shook his head, as he looked Avehi over. A part of him wasn’t surprised she didn’t remember him. Their first meeting was decades past. And their last interaction was, in a word, sour. She may not have remembered, but he would never forget.
“Typical.” he chuffed. “I cannot imagine you take care to remember anyone. Not anyone you are so quick to dismiss, in any case!”
Avehi’s confused look only deeped, as she looked Argonas over. Such ire! She didn’t understand why, but clearly she’d slighted him somehow in the past, and simply didn’t remember. Her tail began to flicker anxiously, lichfire eyes instinctively sizing him up as she sensed the hostilities. Composure kept, she cleared her throat.
“I… apologize.” she stated. “I don’t remember you, or how I apparently wronged you. If--”
“Valuura’s daughter, yes? Valuura of Shadowmoon?” Argonas pressed, arms and expression both crossed. “You and your mother are thieves. You stole several forging techniques from my father!”
Avehi’s tail twitched - no longer from anxiety or awkwardness… but in anger. Few things cut straight to her defensive side like insulting her mother - the woman who raised her all on her own, imparted her trade and wisdom, and kept her safe through all the worlds the Draenei visited. The air around her grew cold in an instant, frost immediately forming on her armor plating as her eyes flared a threatening blue.
“Mind your tongue, Vindicator Argonas.” she scowled, hands clenching at her sides. “Most of our people think you’re dead - insult my mother again, and they’ll have the right of it.”
“Hollow threats will not mask the truth of it. Your mother took techniques for bonding metals and setting gemstones from my father, Raaskus - the greatest armorsmith in Talador!”
“She would never! My--” Avehi glared - then stopped, eyes widening. “--Raaskus, of Talador?”
She visibly relaxed - smirked, even, as a silent chuckle caused her shoulders to bounce. She shook her head.
“Hmph! You find your mother’s thievery amusing? Unsurprising!” Argonas glowered. “She--”
“They were partners, Argonas.” she explained - very much amused! “They worked together on a great many things, crafting-wise. I have a collection of their correspondence to prove it so, too.”
Argonas opened his mouth to speak again, but… he was stunned - literally. Speechless and awestruck. His anger left him in an instant, replaced by confusion and… awkwardness. He narrowed his eyes some, as he tried to speak once again.
“I… er… that is…” he fumbled for a moment, broad shoulders slumping.
Avehi shook her head once more. She, too relaxed her defensive stance, as the air around her warmed once more. Instead, her expression grew more somber, and empathetic.
“I remember she was quite distraught the day she learned he had died in Jorune. Crushed by a cave in… such a horrible way to go.” she looked over Argonas, brow rising. “What made you believe she stole such techniques?”
“Well, ah… you did.” he shrugged in response. “We met once, when our Vindicator squads rallied in Tuurem. Everyone admired your hammer, and… I saw it was created with his technique. I asked you where you got it, and you told me you made it using a technique your mother, Valuura, taught you.”
He sank lower, cheeks darkening with embarrassment at the poor assumption. For such a big Draenei, he never felt so small…
“I pressed you for more information, and… you dismissed me, coldly.” he went on. “I was so sure it was because you and your mother stole the techniques, and you did not wish it to be discovered.”
Avehi, too, frowned. She shook her head.
“I apologize. I do not recall that. If I had known you were Raaskus’ son, perhaps our meeting would have gone differently, yes?” she sighed. “My sincere condolences for your father, and please forgive me for dismissing you so.”
“It… it is well.” Argonas nodded. “I apologize as well, for speaking ill of your mother. If she truly was my father’s friend, I have no doubt she was upstanding and noble.” Argonas dipped his head. “Perhaps, someday, you can tell me of her, and their work together?”
“I would be honored to. But first… I suppose we should discuss why you are here, yes?” Avehi nodded. “You wish to meet Sinafay, sooner than later, I am sure. And from our discussions about you, she would surely wish to see you, too.”
Argonas perked at that, shoulders straightening as he looked Avehi over.
“You know where she is, then?”
“I do. But… I must warn you, she believes you are dead. I… told her so, before I knew you were not. I would advise you to approach gently, cautiously, as seeing you may come as quite a shock.”
Argonas sighed. He felt a wave of nervousness wash over him. Was this a good idea? Should he seek to meet her after all this time, especially if she believed him to be dead? No… no he needed to see her. A former pupil… a former lover… a friend, in a world where he now had so few… He looked to Avehi, and nodded once, resolutely.
Set following the Fall of the Lich King, but before the Cataclysm
~*~
The mist around the Death Knight seemed to freeze to her plated armor, as Avehi stepped off the ship and onto the dock. It had been well over a year since she’d set hoof on the Azure Isles; last time she was here, she was saying goodbye to her friends before setting off to join with the Alliance. Much had changed since then. The war in Outland was won. The Draenei had earned their place in the Alliance.
She had died.
That fact cut through her like a chilled wind. She felt so empty now. A hollow husk of her former self.
After Outland, she joined a group of human Paladins - the Argent Dawn - in cleansing their ancestral home of Lordaeron of a foul presence. She’d never come across the undead before… but the Light would surely cleanse their blighted presence. The humans had done much for the Draenei people… a Vindicator like her was honor-bound to return the favor.
She lent her strength to their cause, and fought hard against the Scourge presence. But ultimately, this strange and foreign enemy proved to be her end. She fell by their fetid claws, left to be consumed by their endless, mindless, aberrant hordes. The last memory she had of her life was that terrifying image; being overrun. Being consumed. Then, only darkness.
It wouldn’t last; her eyes opened again some time later in the heart of the necropolis. She had been robbed of her peaceful afterlife. Denied the glory of joining with the Light. No… instead she became a slave to the very darkness that had taken her life - and so much more after that.
She shivered, shaking her head at the thought as she pressed onward. She pulled her dark hood over her head, further hiding her shame as she entered the vibrant and radiant halls of the Exodar. It was brighter than she remembered it; blindingly so. Her icy gaze narrowed as she progressed through the luminous halls. She could feel the radiance of the Naaru, dwelling within the very heart of the crashed vessel that had become their home. It was different now, though - before, a Naaru’s presence filled her with blissful calm. Now, she felt it like a fire, burning at her from the outside, rather than from within. It made her feel sick. Tired. Fatigued. Like she’d stood out in the heat too long. She was well out of her element here… she couldn’t stay.
Why had she even returned at all?
Rising as one of the Scourge’s Death Knights was surreal. She remembered her past, yet at the time it didn’t matter. All that mattered to her for a time was destroying the living - bringing down the Scarlet Crusade which threatened her Master - the Lich King - and his dark forces. She adapted well to combat, even in this new form. Her Vindicator training already taught her how to tap into power beyond the physical; though now, rather than calling on the Light, she called on something much more abhorrent. She was deadly on the battlefield, cutting down Scarlet after Scarlet in a vicious slaughtering. She found herself enjoying the carnage, reveling in the bloodshed. This was her purpose now, and she embraced it fully.
For a time.
She departed the Exodar as quickly as she’d arrived, barely making it down the ramp before she turned back. It was too much… physically, and emotionally. She remembered it with such fondness; now, it only filled her with dread. The darkness within her could not abide so close to such holiness. It hurt her form. It hurt her soul. She hung her hooded head in immeasurable sorrow as she emerged from the ship, back out into the misty pines of Azuremyst. She could feel onlookers gazing at her - she must’ve stuck out like a sore thumb to them in such a place. Her chilling gaze caught sight of a fisherman; he turned from her quickly and hastily without a word. Another glance, and she beheld a woman and her child. The woman gripped her youngling closer, pulling him along expediently away from Avehi. She couldn’t imagine they knew what she was… only acted on the fear of uncertainty. If only they knew…
The Scourge’s Champion.
With the Scarlet Crusade routed, and the Plaguelands claimed for her dark Master, she joined her brothers and sisters in undeath as they set their sights on their next target - Light’s Hope Chapel. The memory of that place resonated deeper with her than previous memories. It was jarring to see such a hallowed place again… from the other side of the war which raged there. Comrades she’d come to know from the Argent Dawn now stood before her, weapons drawn in defense of their holiest of landmarks. She stood in opposition of them - humans, dwarves, elves… people she’d considered friends, in life. It shocked her to her core to see them glaring her way. Looking at her as if she were their hated enemy… because she was now. The viciousness and ruthlessness with which she’d conquered the Scarlet Crusade left her; how could she raise her weapon to her friends in the Argent Dawn? Her eyes had opened now, and she realized what she was. As the forces clashed, she defended herself… but did nothing else to antagonize or bring harm to her Argent friends. They lost that battle… but she’d won something much more important. She remembered who she was in life. What she was in life. Her goals, her ambitions… her purpose renewed. She laid down her arms with other Death Knights who had had similar revelations about themselves. She joined with the newly founded Ebon Blade, and swore vengeance on the dark Master who had taken everything from her.
She couldn’t let that happen to anyone else.
Her eyes narrowed as they settled on another Draenei - a shamanism practitioner, by the looks of him. She set aside her discomfort for the moment, and stopped him on the path. Perhaps he could help her find who she had come looking for here…
“You, Brother.” she said shortly - voice distorted. “You are a shaman?”
“--Ah, uhh…” The Draenei froze in place, scared and confused. “Y-Yes…”
“Do you know a fellow shaman called Mierne?” Avehi asked.
“M-Mierne? I know of her, yeah… they say she lives along the eastern coast of Bloodmyst.” he replied, timidly. “Why?”
Avehi didn’t reply; she had learned what she needed from him. Without another word, she brushed past him, and headed towards the northern isle. Azuremyst was populated by her people, but Bloodmyst had only one settlement. It was much more hostile up on the northern isle; between the infected, agitated wildlife and the invasive and relentless Naga, it was far less hospitable than the relatively tranquil Azuremyst. Strangely, such a place seemed well-suited for Mierne. She’d never been the sort to conform to comforts. She carved her own path. Avehi remembered meeting her years ago in Zangarmarsh. Despite the Draenei settling in Telredor, Mierne had set up her own place to live out among the Krokul - the Broken. The opinions of her peers didn’t matter to her. She did what was needed, and helped those who weren’t able to help themselves. It had impressed Avehi so, and led to a firm friendship between the two of them.
That friendship was why Avehi had returned to this place. If anyone could understand her as she was now, it was Mierne.
~*~
The shaman sat on a cliff overlooking the sea. She had set up her crude, but functional hut hidden in the woods on the southwest side of Bloodmist. Despite her people’s best efforts, the wildlife was still deeply affected by the Exodar’s crash. Mierne has made it her own personal mission to help stabilize and heal the land with the spiritual gifts the elements granted her. It was an uphill battle, but bit by bit, progress was being made.
It wasn’t easy living, but it was her way. Mierne has always preferred solitude, preferring the comforts of the natural world to the metallic and crystalline structures of the Exodar. She would visit on occasion, to give reports and personal visits to a friend, but her heart was wild. Untamed.
As she sat in quiet meditation, her tail twitched as one of her alarm totems was set off. Someone was nearby. She opened her eyes and pressed her hand to the ground. It wasn’t an animal… it didn’t even have a pulse. Arcs of electricity sparked over her form as she stood. However, she didn’t remain standing for long, before her form shifted to that of a slightly transparent wolf.
She took off into the woods, towards the Forsaken that dared intrude on this land.
~*~
The Naga’s blood began to gurgle in their hollow throat, as Avehi pulled her blade from it. She kicked the last of the slimy fish-beings over, before stepping up to the water to cleanse their viscous blood from her runeblade. She frowned at the weapon - it wasn’t one she used in life. No, in life, she used a blessed crystalline hammer… a vessel of the Light. She scowled as the runes along the blade’s surface illuminated - the blood she’d shed excited the unholy sigils, coaxing them to life with satisfied hissing whispers.
She hated this blade. She wondered why she even carried it still. It was a gift once. A gift from her Dark Master. But now, it felt more like a curse… the blade shared in her hunger for blood. A hunger she had to sate time after time. These Naga sufficed for now, but the blade would hunger again soon. She grew tired of feeding it. Tired of sustaining such a dark relic through her carnage. She suddenly felt sickened by the very sight of it - the runes pulsing, like low, silent laughter. She hated this blade!
CRACK!
In an angered fit, she gripped the blade’s tip and hilt, and brought it down over her plated knee. There was an ethereal scream as the runes shattered! The blade itself fractured, cracks sprawling like veins from the impact site. She growled, baring her teeth at the inanimate, broken weapon. With a heave, she tossed it into the sea to be consumed by the waves.
This visit was to look forward. Not back.
Her hand oozed with dark blood - a parting gift from the blade. He grunted as she knelt down, to dip her hand in the water and let the waves wash the blood away. A sigh… what did it matter? Discarding the blade didn’t change what she was. What she’d become. She felt better… but only for a moment. Now, she felt alone. Lost. She sat back from her kneel, simply sitting on the beach as the waves crept up her legs… then receded. Again, in steady rhythm. She closed her eyes, and listened to the waves break over her hooves and plated legs. It was soothing, helping her calm her troubled, racing mind.
Her search could wait a moment or two.
Mierne’s ears pinned back as she heard a scream. It didn’t come from any living creature she knew. It wasn’t natural. She stifled a growl as she silently made her way onto the beach, surveying the damage. Naga bodies lay dead, littering the shoreline with their blood. The wolf paid them little mind. They were a nuisance, like the murlocs, fine in small numbers, but left to multiply, they became invasive and a danger to everything around them.
She kept her guard up as she padded over to the one that had caused the carnage -the undead-. For a moment she wondered if it was still ‘living’ as it kneeled perfectly still in the water. Her instinct had been to attack and chase the creature from the isle, but if it was injured or near death.
She shifted into her natural form as she mentally called to the elements. Gathering storm clouds above them. She drew the silver hammer that had been strapped to her side.
“Two choices,” she spoke in common with a heavy Draenei accent, “You leave, or I put you at peace, once and for all.”
Avehi froze; she recognized that voice! Her search ended much earlier than she anticipated! Oh, how she wanted to spring up, and rush into her old friend’s arms… but given the tone of her voice, and the thundering clouds she’d conjured overhead, it was clear Mierne didn’t recognize Avehi.
How could she, anyway? Avehi looked down at herself - her dark, frayed, bloodstained Ebon Blade robes. The hood which covered her hair and obscured her horns… but deeper than her appearance, Avehi knew her aura had changed significantly - something a seer like Mierne would read easily enough. Even in that way, she was disguised, unfamiliar to her dear friend. It hurt to think how different she was now. She closed her eyes, and sighed.
“... I am not here seeking trouble.” she stated, in her native Draenic. “Nor peace.”
She stood slowly, as the water crashed over her lap one final time. Deliberately and calmly, she reached up and pulled her hood back as she turned to face Mierne. She stared at the shaman with icy blue eyes - screaming silently in pain and sorrow. If they could well up with tears, they might’ve in that moment… even if they’d only freeze to her face as a result. She frowned deeply, expression heavy with anguish. She wasn’t the jovial Vindicator she was in life - inside, or out. No wonder Mierne didn’t recognize her...
“I’m here seeking an old friend.”
Mierne’s snarl vanished as the undead filth removed its hood to show a familiar face. Her eyes widened, as though she were looking at a ghost. In a way, she was.
“...A… Avehi…” the name came out in almost a hush, unable to believe what her eyes as elemental senses fed her.
Her dear friend in the shape of an animated corpse. There was no mistaking the aura of undeath, the still, unbreathing chest, the lichfire blue eyes, the pale skin… there was no mistaking what she had become. A fate worse than death, some would say…
She dropped her hammer in the sand as she brought a hand up over her mouth as she found herself unable to do anything else but stare. Tears stung her eyes. Mierne had lost many dear friends over her long life, but losing Avehi had been one of the hardest deaths to swallow. She still hadn’t fully recovered…
“I…” she managed, swallowing down the lump in her throat, “...never thought I would see you again.”
She opened up her arms to the younger Draenei… now frozen in her youth… beckoning the Death Knight over like a mother would a lost child.
Her expressionless face found one - a shameful frown. Avehi watched Mierne’s reaction for only a second, before the shaman’s expression of stunned disbelief turned Avehi away. She clenched her fists, fighting back tears that wouldn’t come as she stared off to the side. Avehi hated what she’d become… and it showed in her inability to look her dear friend in the eye. Somehow she felt sick. She wanted to vomit. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. A part of her wished she never come here, and revealed to Mierne what sort of abomination she’d become. Why? Why did she even bother coming? Now, it felt as if all she’d done was hurt her friend by revealing a horrible, horrible truth. Had she--
Avehi gasped, catching Mierne’s movements out of the corner of her eye. She looked back to the Shaman… who stood arms wide open to accept her. Avehi was stunned. It was a gesture she never would have expected, but it was one she desperately needed in that moment. She took a tentative step forward… then another… her lip trembled as if about to cry as she closed the distance between herself and her friend - her only friend.
“Mierne…” she whispered, stopping just before the Shaman. “Mierne… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”
She closed her eyes tightly as she threw her arms around Mierne, and tucked her chin over her shoulder. A hug… an embrace… it had been so long. Her body was cold and lifeless, but in that moment she felt a flicker of warmth as she reunited with Mierne. Like a child in the tender embrace of her mother…
“I’m so sorry… I never meant to worry you… or startle you...” she sobbed. “But I… had to see you again…”
“Shhh….” Mierne soothed her young friend.
Her arms held Avehi in a tight embrace. She’d managed to hold in her own sobs, but tears still rolled down her dirty cheeks. It pained her to see her friend like so, to feel how cold and lifeless her body had become. She felt her knees weaken, allowing herself to kneel down in the sand and pulling Avehi down with her. She didn’t release the embrace, as though she were trying to bring life back into her friend with warmth alone. Her heart ached? But she knew it was nothing compared to the suffering the Death Knight felt.
“Do not apologize,” she finally said, releasing the embrace slightly only to bring a hand through Avehi’s hair, “I am thankful you came to me… that you have returned home. I will always… ALWAYS… be there for you.”
She took in a deep breath, pushing back her own sorrow to better take care of her friend. She took Avehi by the shoulders and pushed her back slightly. Hands cupped her face and forced her to meet her gaze.
“I promise.”
Avehi played her part well; she hung lifelessly in Mierne’s arms as the two collapsed to a kneel. She only held on, clinging to the Shaman tightly as quiet whimpers escaped her. She remembered the last time she embraced Mierne like this, before leaving the Isles to join with the Alliance and see what Azeroth had to offer. The contrast between the memory of that embrace and this one now was stark… jarring… driving home for Avehi how much undeath had changed her. How she felt, how she sensed things, how disconnected it all seemed, while at the same time being such an overload…
‘What have I become…?’
For all the differences, Avehi felt something familiar in Mierne's arms. Something even death couldn't twist or distort… a calm comfort… the very comfort she came seeking. Mierne's words only made that calm comfort stronger. Her icy blue eyes peered into her dear friend’s. She nodded, offering a weak but genuine smile.
“Home…” her death-distorted voice echoed. “Mierne… thank you. I need… I need a home, now more than ever.”
She shook her head, brow furrowed as a frown replaced that weak smile once more. She looked away in shame again, teeth clenched.
“I've been… lost… for so long.” she murmured. “I never should have left you! I… I never should have…”
“You did what you had to do, Avehi,” Mierne comforted her friend, bringing a hand through her hair, “You made our people proud and died with honour, fighting a great evil.”
Mierne removed her helm from, revealing the mess of tangled braided hair beneath, and genuine features. She looked her friend over, now that the worst of the shock had worn off. Avehi had always been a beautiful Draenei, and even her obvious undeath couldn’t mar that. Sadly, not many would look past the pale features and lich blue eyes… Mierne knew how quickly their kind could be to outcast others.
“We do not always get to choose our path, my friend. This is the path you have been given. Many will not understand what you are, but death is part of life, even for the long lived. Do not allow anyone to tell you that you do not belong because of what you are. You will always have a home with me, whatever happens.”
Avehi wept - an unholy wailing, echoed and distorted by undeath. It rang out, hauntingly, eerily, along the coast and back through the misty woods of the Isles. She cried her cries devoid of tears against Mierne’s chest, tucked in her warm embrace. She had no words, yet the moaning cries spoke volumes of her anguish, fears… relief, and gratitude. Hardly the reunion she envisioned having with Mierne… but the elder Draenei always knew what to say and how to treat her. At her best… and now, at her worst. She was grateful for that, expressed in the moment only through tightening her arms around the shaman. She needed to hear that; to feel that acceptance of her in spite of her horrific new form - the husk of her deceased body breathed living once again by foul and unholy magic. The pain was intense, physically and emotionally, unlike anything Avehi had felt before. But there, in the arms of an old, dear friend… she felt a sense of calm. Relief. Peace.
She was home.
~*~
((Co-written with @kidcatgemini, the character Mierne belongs to her))
“Hm. A perplexing one... I like Mierne, but of the three, we have no real connection. I would select her to be killed. I recall Lassair being a decent cook, and a wonderful conversationalist. I could see marrying her being a pleasant experience. Though, that leaves...”
Bloodmyst Isle hadn’t changed a bit. It provided a hollow comfort; what the debris of the Exodar had done to the wildlife was regrettable, and yet seeing it so unchanged, just as he remembered it… it felt like home again. His steps were heavy, despite casting aside his plate armor. Calloused hands had let go of his hammer long ago - instead, a simple spear would suffice. Not for fighting in any war, or vanquishing any in the name of Light’s justice. Those days were behind him. No, this spear was a utility, a means to survive. That’s all he could hope for now.
His makeshift tent was pathetic, but suitable enough to keep out the elements. A crate of supplies he’d carried out and set aside remained sealed beside the sorry structure. Unopened, for now. He pulled back his hood, as he looked over the red-stained waters of a nearby river. His crest was cracked, tendrils missing. Face marred by the scarring of a thousand cuts, both big and small. Eyes aglow, but full of sorrow. Regret. Guilt. It was these eyes that looked over the secluded area that would be his new home, for as long as he remained alive. Separated from a love who had died in his arms.
Argonas was home, at last.
The pain was indescribable, but Sinafay endured, knowing it was only for a short moment longer. Soon, there would be no more pain. Leaning in and closing her eyes, she rested her forehead against Argonas’ crest. By now, bright green lacerations had formed over her skin.
“Ready, my Love?” she managed to say, “The Light… it is waiting… yes?”
Weakly, Argonas brought his hand up to cup Sinafay’s face. For all the pain coursing through him, he managed a smile.
“It is - the Light is waiting, my Beloved.” he said, weakly. “Take us there; where we will be free.”
As the enemy footsteps entered the chamber, Sinafay wrapped her arms tightly around Argonas and detonated a fire spell, causing an explosion that completely devastated everything around them.
Argonas closed his eyes. He felt all the pain leave his body, in that moment. The intense heat of the fel runes carved into his skin had all gone away. Burns across his body, too, were soothed entirely. Was this death? So peaceful, so comfortable following the agony he and his beloved Sinafay had endured. He felt a warmth, a sensation he had not felt in a long, long time - the Light was with him! He could feel its blessed holiness wash over him, cleansing away his wounds as it began to take him away to join with it
He thought, anyway.
His eyes opened, as he beheld the horrific scene still unfolding all around him, seeming to play out in slow motion. He saw the fires consume everything - the demons, the enemies, the structure itself shattered from the force. He looked at Sinafay, his beloved, as he held her in his arms. She, too, began to break apart from the fiery inferno her detonation spell had caused. Her eyes had closed as well, as she embraced him - her expression one of peace, despite the destruction all around her. She was comforted by this death, gladly giving her life to destroy the Legion. Her body disintegrated before him, the fires consuming it entirely.
And yet he remained.
The glimmer of the Light’s protection reflected off of his body. He gasped, recognizing what had happened. Sinafay’s siphon removed his corruption, drawing it into herself to fuel the destructive detonation. The Light had returned to him once more, for the first time in months! Over a year! It protected him, sealing him away in a barrier to save him from death. This… this wasn’t what he wanted! He was to die alongside Sinafay, his beloved! Instead, the resurgence of the Light’s glory into him had instinctively preserved him! He had no time to protest, no further moment to ponder. The eruption threw his Light-shielded form from the tower, blasting him off with the explosion Sinafay had caused.
The tower burst, blasting felsteel and blazing flames in all directions as it crumbled. The blast was enormous, covering the entirety of the sky with hellish fire. Argonas was but a fragment of the debris, preserved by the Light as he catapulted off into the distance. He slammed into a cliff facing, before falling down to the ground beneath it. The Light’s protection faded as he passed out from the sheer force of impact into the ground. He laid out, motionless. Intact. Alive.
The Lightforged had found him some days later, and returned him to the Vindicaar. He spent the final days of the Argus campaign unconscious, bed-ridden, recovering. After their final flight home, he awoke in the Exodar. The Anchorites told him what had happened… he couldn’t believe it. The Legion defeated, His Light returned… Sinafay killed… but he had lived.
It was a lot… too much… He needed time to sort it out. To grieve. To decide what it meant that he survived when his beloved had died. He gathered simple supplies and headed north to Bloodmyst Isle to seek solitude to figure it all out.
His camp needed work. He knew that. But first, he needed to rest for a moment. He looked over the red water, discolored so by the Warp Core’s radiation. It didn’t look good… he had to check it, first. He knelt down, and scooped up some of the water into his waterskin. He gave it a tentative sniff… and grimaced. No, it wouldn’t do at all. He poured it back out.
“Are you lost, friend?” came a voice from behind him.
He turned to see another Draenei. A woman, in rather primitive attire. Argonas eyed her over, cautiously.
“You are a long ways away from civilization.” she pressed her question, looking him over in a similarly-cautious fashion.
“Yes… that is the idea.” he cleared his throat. “I did not think anyone else would live out here, but… you do, I presume? This is your, aah… your home?”
The woman moved in closer, though kept a fair distance as she continued to appraise him. He remained still, save his tail, which flickered to and fro with a hint of nervousness. She was a Draenei, surely. But what manner of Draenei would live out here? Her attire suggested she was a naturalist of some kind - not a whole lot of her was covered up. Was she some kind of outcast?
"I take no claim to the land. But I live on this isle, yes. Attempting to restore balance." replied, before casting her eyes to the water, "A losing battle, that."
Argonas nodded, relaxing visibly. That made sense - she was a shaman, here to help restore the land. Sinafay had told him some elementalists wandered the Isles for that purpose. This woman must have been one of them.
“I see.” he replied, offering a weak smile. “Well... I am not here to intrude, or hinder your work. I am just looking for a new place to live. Away from others…”
“You seek isolation?” she asked.
"I do, yes. I... recently returned from Argus." he sighed, shifting; tail flickering as his eyes cast down. "I lost my Love, there. I... "
He trailed off… the memory still too fresh in his mind. He drew in a measured breath as he tried to keep his emotions in check.
“I see... My condolences.” the woman replied, offering a sympathetic nod. “Nature does have a way of soothing the soul of the suffering. I am a bit of a hermit myself, so I will not attempt to make contact again if you do not wish it.“
“I... think that would be best. I am sorry, I know that may sound rude, but…” Argonas shook his head. “I do not feel like interacting with others.”
The woman gave him a bit of a smile at that. "It is not rude. I live out here because I do not enjoy being around other people for to long. I mostly reside on the other side of the isle, so I will not be bothering you. However, if you do need help out here, do not hesitate to seek me out for aid. My name is Mierne."
“Light's blessings upon you, Mierne. I am Argonas.” he bowed his head in a polite salute.
Mierne looked at the river again, then at the makeshift camp. "I would not drink that water. A rain filtration system would be best."
Argonas’ gaze followed hers, back to the corrupted water.
"--Aah, yes, I suppose it would. I will manage, thank you." he nodded. “I only hope I do not disturb you, yes? If I do, please let me know. You are here doing productive work. I am only here to... brood.”
"I will tell no one of your presence here, Argonas.” Mierne nodded in response. “Stay as long as you need to."
With that, Mierne shifted into a ghostly wolf form. She ran off, without another word! Argonas blinked, barely having time to respond.
"--Aah, thank you!" he quickly shouted as Mierne took off. "Khrona... kai..."
He offered a wave... and a frown as she disappeared into the treeline. With a sigh, he got back to work setting up his camp. He wasn’t as alone as he had hoped, but… if Mierne was a hermit as well, she’d likely leave him be. Good enough. He cracked open the crate, and began settling into his new home. For how long, he couldn’t say. But for whatever it meant, whatever it was worth… he was back.
