((Co-written with @kidcatgemini / @miernethepersevering, and @prancingmad / @nedemus. Ravanhi belongs to cursedkat! Follow her on twitter!))
~*~
The High Vindicator felt largely out of place. His glistening armor, imbued with the Light’s radiant power, stood out all the more so in the conservative and reverent Stormwind Cemetery. He recalled visiting this place once before, laying to rest an old friend from the Northrend campaign. He felt a sense of shame wash over him, realizing he hadn’t visited since; had he really been so busy? Too busy? Even when he was in Stormwind for business… he realized now he’d never come by. His golden glance turned towards the humble grave plot of Marshal Damien Townsend, who gave his life to put an end to the Lich King’s reign. His brow furrowed, resolutely - he would visit him today, after all this.
All this, of course, being hearing out Avehi the Adamant, who had been raising the dead around Azeroth for - based on second-hand accounts - she felt was a just and noble reason. The Draenei’s skin crawled at the very notion. A good reason to raise the dead? He couldn’t fathom one! A part of him had already decided her fate, and wanted to see Avehi locked away for what she’d done. Raising people who deserved rest, like Zaalesh and others. Khanaros’ blood boiled at the thought of such defilement. But the other part knew that justice couldn’t be served without hearing the whole story. Bits and pieces heard from others weren’t sufficient in such a case as this. He wanted to hear Avehi explain herself in person, before making his mind up fully.
“I… appreciate you coming with me, Mierne.” he turned, addressing his partner. “I know you’re here mostly to see that Avehi’s heard out fully and fairly… but I like to think you’re here for me, too.”
He smirked, reaching over to give the shaman’s hand a playful squeeze.
“I am here for you both, of course!”
Mierne leaned into Khanaros’ side with a light chuckle. She’d remained oddly silent, caught up in her own thoughts. She looked up at her partner, her gaze showing the sincerity of her words. It was true, her presence here was to assure Avehi would be fairly heard. While she didn’t know the full story behind the Ebon Knight’s actions, she was most certain they’d been done for good reason. Avehi was youthful and brash, but her heart was always in the right place.
Khanaros, on the other hand, didn’t have the opportunity to remain neutral on the subject. She understood his difficult position in the matter, and the great responsibility of doing what was best for his people weighing on his shoulders.
“No matter what happens, I appreciate you doing this for her… for me. I realize this isn’t normal procedure, and that you are going out of your way…”
Her arm moved around his torso in a comforting embrace.
“Avehi is many things. She has been through so much. But through it all, she has always been an upfront and honest Draenei.”
"Mm. I appreciate honesty, and being up-front, of course," Khanaros grunted, "but there will be more to it than simply whether or not she tells the truth. If what she hopes to achieve is not commensurate with the Light…"
He cut the thought short, golden gaze cast upward as he beheld a trio of inbound winged creatures. Two were boney, skeletal creatures brimming with necrotic energies. It wasn't hard to guess who commanded those unholy beasts… The third was far more recognizable even at a distance; Argonas and his nether drake, glistening in the night sky. The three of them descended without delay, each landing in succession a short distance from Mierne and Khanaros. The High Vindicator nodded once.
"... I suppose we will learn, one way or the other." he grunted again, before stepping forward to meet the three.
Avehi dismounted Shinigosa promptly, before sending the frostwyrm back up to the sky. The ground was no place for such a creature; already enduring a burial beneath it, Shinigosa was quite keen on flying, and enjoying the freedom she felt in doing so. And Avehi was not one to deny her draconian partner such enjoyment. Her eyes settled on Khanaros, a beacon of Light in the quiet and dimly lit cemetery. One of two, now, as Argonas set hoof on the cobbles with little regard for the clamor each step caused. He had taxed Avehi's patience throughout their journey. Quite a bit beforehand, too. So much so, she couldn't be bothered to spare him a glance.
Instead, her eyes turned to Mierne. A smile graced her lips for what felt like the first time in a long time. Nedemus wasn't lying; he really had reached out to her in this matter. She turned to offer the Worgen an appreciative nod, before she approached her dear old friend.
"Mierne… I'm sorry you're somehow caught up in this." she dipped her head. "But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad to see you here."
Mierne’s reply came in the form of a warm embrace. She wrapped her arms around the Death Knight, giving her that motherly comfort she no doubt needed.
“Don’t you worry about me. I’m just happy to see that you’re safe.”
She leaned in to whisper in her ear so that the two Light suffused beings wouldn’t hear.
“I know Vindicators can be exhausting to work with, but give them a bit of patience today, hm? I am here to assure you are heard.”
Placing a soft kiss on her friend’s cheek, she offered an encouraging smile, before stepping back and finally nodding a greeting to Argonas and Nedemus.
“Thank you both for assuring her safety here.”
Nedemus stepped off of Obelisk, as the skeletal gryphon dispersed, burying itself down into the ground away from the cemetery. The worgen made sure to keep ahead of Argonas, already tired of the ridiculous views that spewed from his mouth, as he took his place beside Avehi, nodding to Mierne. “Of course. Though, I think all parties involved-” He glanced towards the brash young Draenei once more. “- myself and Avehi included, should agree no weapons drawn in this place.”
He said, letting out a small snort as he crossed his arms, nostrils flaring a bit in frustration, but masking his actual intent…
“Out of the question!” Argonas interjected. “Should the need arise, I will not hesitate to draw my sword against the likes of you. I think it better that you agree not to give a reason for me to do so!”
“Calm yourself, Vindicator.” Khanaros stepped forward, eyes on the younger male. “Remember to temper your frustrations, yes? Control your emotions, do not allow them to control you.”
He offered a warm, settling smile to his former trainee, placing a hand on his plated shoulder in a welcoming manner. He nodded once, then looked to Nedemus - sparing the worgen such familiar gestures as putting hands on him, but acknowledging him positively nonetheless.
“Argonas, Nedemus, I echo Mierne’s sentiment; thank you both for seeing Avehi here safely.” he dipped his head in appreciation. “That you are able to set aside your differences for a common goal speak well of both of you, and your reverence for seeing justice done.”
Argonas exhaled a sigh, following his mentor’s counsel in calming himself. He could feel the tension manifest in knots along his neck and shoulders - a burden he’d carried far longer than just this mission. The High Vindicator always could read him well. Humbled, he nodded in response, casting a more amicable glance towards Nedemus… then to Avehi. His brow still furrowed, but the expression was much softer than usual. He was trying.
Nedemus glanced towards Avehi, upon realizing that indeed, this ragtag group of Draenei and Dog were alone in the cemetery. His gaze switched back to Argonas, watching him as they spoke.
“And you, Avehi,” Khanaros turned from Argonas and Nedemus back to Avehi and Mierne, “I appreciate you agreeing to meet here - from what I’m told, a more comfortable, neutral setting given the circumstance?”
Avehi, too, had calmed significantly in the presence of an old friend. Mierne was a comfort to her on even the worst of days. It was fortunate, too - without her trusted friend there to quell her bristly, defensive demeanor, Avehi couldn’t imagine this exchange going well at all. She dipped her head politely, amicably, to the High Vindicator as he acknowledged her.
“Mm, it was an appealing enough invitation. In that… the alternatives were unacceptable.” she put as politely as her irritation would allow. “But nonetheless, I’m here. Let’s get this over with, shall we? What do you wish to know?”
“Everything.” came Khanaros’ vague, but direct response. “What has driven you to do what you’re doing? Why would you raise so many people like Vindicator Zaalesh from death?”
Avehi sighed, tail flickering again. For a second time, she found herself justifying her actions to entities she very nearly reviled. People whose judgment was skewed, albeit in different ways. She leveled her gaze at Khanaros, as if appraising him. The Ebon Blade, at least, had some familiarity with the afterlife. But how could he possibly understand? Would he see this all the same as Argonas did; that Draenei, and other adherents of the Light, should be immune to the machinations of the afterlife? Her eyes narrowed for a brief second, in frustration and disgust. Her words would fall on deaf ears here. Just as the Light blinds, it also deafens. All of this would be a waste of time! She opened her mouth to speak… but hesitated, glancing once more to Mierne.
Mierne was different from these Light-revering Draenei that summoned and brought her here. Different from most other Draenei. She was patient, open minded, and most importantly willing to give the benefit of the doubt in matters she didn’t understand. Above all that… she was here. She made an effort to see that Avehi would be heard out thoroughly and fairly. An effort Avehi couldn’t waste… if Mierne was trying, Avehi could try too. The Death Knight cleared her throat, and began to explain.
“There is a veil between this existence and the existence beyond death. We Death Knights walk both worlds, and therefore can pass through the veil in ways the living cannot. It is… not unlike how the Auchenai would commune with the departed.” she kept her composure calm, and spoke slowly and succinctly. “When a living soul dies, it journeys to an afterlife commensurate with their worth. Noble souls ascend to planes of righteousness and honor. For Draenei, this is joining with the Light. For elves, returning to nature. It differs for different peoples.”
Khanaros nodded slowly, taking in the information. On some level he knew all this; he thought back to his youth, all those millenia ago on Argus. Back then, the Eredar’s concept of the afterlife didn’t include joining with the Light. It was much more… ambiguous. Nonetheless, all this seemed proper and plausible. He motioned for Avehi to continue.
“Less-than noble souls… those of malicious and terrible beings, regardless of the peoples… those souls are dragged down into a place we call the Maw. Their eternal existences there is one of torment and suffering.” Avehi elaborated. “It is a realm of pain the likes of which no mortal can fathom. As a creature whose existence is wrought with pain and torment… trust me when I say the Maw is as terrible as it could ever get. The Legion, the Old Gods… none of it compare to the Maw.”
“I see… Justice permeates beyond this veil, and those deserving of it are punished for transgressions, yes?” Khanaros affirmed - so far, this all made sense to him. “But what does this have to do with your actions here on Azeroth?”
Avehi shook her head, brow furrowing.
“A few months ago, when I was traversing through this veil… I sensed something. A disturbance of some kind. I didn’t know exactly what. A surge of power… and yet an absence of it? It didn’t make sense.” she grunted in latent frustration at the memory. “I took it upon myself to investigate, worried it was some plot of the Ebon Blade’s, happening beyond the notice of the war-torn factions of the Horde and Alliance. But I came to learn even they didn’t know, and shared in my desire to discover what was happening.”
“And… what is happening?” Khanaros pressed.
“Justice… is not being served.” Avehi stated. “For reasons we still don’t know, all souls - even noble souls - are being pulled into the Maw to suffer eternally.”
“What? How is that possible?” came the High Vindicator’s skeptical questioning.
“I said we still don’t know!” Avehi snapped, reflexively.
She cleared her throat, recollecting herself before continuing. Nedemus stepped to her side, bringing up his hand and placing it on her shoulder, attempting to comfort her as best he could in this situation. The Draenei nodded in appreciation to Nedemus, before straightening. She leveled her gaze to the High Vindicator once more, and continued.
“That is… it’s hard to be certain. Even to the undead, the majority of processes and machinations of the afterlife are largely shrouded in mystery. We don’t know much at all… but we certainly know more than most living.” she corrected, as politely as she could muster. “This even came as something of a surprise to Exarch Ravanhi of the Auchenai. She and her ilk have sensed this disturbance as well, but lack the capacity to scry beyond the veil that they once had. The capacity the Ebon Blade yet holds, at least somewhat.”
“Ravanhi.” Khanaros repeated the name under his breath.
He was familiar with the Exarch; a fellow Argus-born Draenei, one of few still around. Khanaros recalled Ravanhi as a gentle soul and a curious mind. Her days on Argus were spent as a humble priestess contemplating the nature of existence itself. That passion and wisdom served her well as a High Priestess of the Auchenai on Draenor, and again in more recent days serving as a diplomat to the Kaldorei people. He’d always found her to be polite and thoughtful… yet tormented in a way. Lonely and reclusive, Khanaros got the sense the suffering of their people resonated much deeper with her over the nigh-countless years. But knowing her, she’d never let such despair claim her. Not while there remained others in need.
He grunted, nodding slowly as he refocused his attention to the Death Knight before him. It was both curious and comforting that Avehi had sought out the Auchenai concerning such a severe-sounding matter. If nothing else, it spoke positively of her intentions; were she raising the dead for some nefarious purpose, interactions with the Auchenai would be the last thing she’d want. And if someone as spiritually-attuned as Ravanhi also felt the strange disturbance Avehi spoke of… that surely lent credence to her story.
“You know this Exarch, sir?”
Argonas piped up, if only to break up the silence that permeated the cemetery during the contemplative moment. He furrowed his brow, luminous eyes glancing between his honored mentor and traitorous sister. They settled on the latter, scrutinously; this was the first he was hearing of any Auchenai contact! Was she making it up…?
“I know of her, yes.” Khanaros nodded to Argonas, before exhaling a sigh. “So… if I am assuming correctly, Avehi, you’re raising these people as a means to prevent them from being trapped in the Maw?”
“Yes, that’s correct.” Avehi affirmed with a single nod. “Until such time as I can discern a better way, raising them is the only means to keep them from being lost forever.”
“And… you are certain that existence in the Maw is a worse fate than an existence of undeath?” he asked, brow furrowed. “How can you be sure of this?”
“I’ve seen it.” she scowled. “Through great concentration and effort, I was able to… project myself, for lack of a better term, to the Maw. I was looking for someone specific… and found someone else instead.”
“Looking for who?”
Avehi glanced to Argonas, and stifled a grunt.
“Sinafay. A Vindicator from alternate Draenor, and a friend of mine.” she explained. “I thought I sensed her, which would’ve meant she had died. I went to the Maw to find her, and maybe ask where she died so I could…”
Avehi shook her head, letting the thought finish itself. No one present had any illusions as to what she was doing now, anyway. She’d been honest enough about it. Argonas’ brow furrowed deeper still as he peered at Avehi. That she would even consider raising Sinafay - Orc-lover or not - was atrocious!
“And… you found someone else instead?” Khanaros asked, keeping the exchange on track.
“I did, yes.” Avehi stated, eyes still affixed, unblinking, at the younger Vindicator. “Sinafay. But from this timeline. Argonas’ wife.”
“LIES!”
Argonas had heard enough! Too much to remain passive anymore! He stepped forward towards Avehi, fists clenched!
“How dare you implicate my wife in your deceit? How dare you even speak her name with your defiler’s mouth!?”
“Argonas,” Mierne was quick to get between the Vindicator and Avehi.
Nedemus retracted, stepping back. He had begun to intercept Argonas’ movements, but stopped as he noticed Mierne step in. His foot slid back to position, his gaze glancing towards Avehi as he waited to see if the shaman could handle the zealous fool.
Her hands came up to his chest in an effort to stop his advance. Even though they were no longer intimate, she hoped their friendship was enough for her words to calm him. Her eyes held nothing but concern for the younger Vindicator. If anyone knew how difficult Sinafay’s passing had been for him, it was her. He’d spent a whole year on her island, in isolation, mourning her loss. She’d seen the devastation in his dealings with the alternate version of her.
“I understand your anger, but you must keep a clear head, yes? There is still much that needs to be learned before any judgment can be made” she kept her voice soft and soothing.
“Hmph! There is still much truth to be learned! None of these blatant lies serve to see justice met!” Argonas continued protesting. “This is an obvious attempt at manipulation! She seeks to establish some personal credibility to her twisted and outlandish tale!”
He stayed by Mierne’s hand, but showed no signs of calming or backing down. His piercing gaze still affixed accusingly to Avehi. The Death Knight returned his scowl defiantly, tail flickering in agitation as he went on his rant. Her eyes narrowed.
“It’s true, Argonas. Your wife is in the Maw.” she reiterated. “And the longer you try and hold me up, the longer she’ll suffer there!”
“SHUT UP!”
With his aggressive outburst, Argonas brusquely pushed past Mierne. Amber Light arced across his plated body, brought on by his unbridled rage. He brought a hand up to reach back behind him for his sheathed blade as he stomped towards Avehi!
Nedemus growled out, placing himself between Argonas and the Draenei, though his own blade stayed holstered on his back. “Stand down, Argonas.”
“Step aside, you accursed dog corpse! Or you shall be the first--”
“--Vindicator Argonas.”
He stopped in his tracks. The Light sparking off of the Vindicator subsided, Argonas almost wincing at Khanaros’ command. The High Vindicator didn’t raise his voice much louder than usual, but his tone struck with authority. Command. Disappointment. Slowly, Argonas’ hand lowered from the hilt of his crystalline sword, as he turned his gaze; an angered and vindictive glare at Nedemus, to a remissive and chastised leer as it settled on his old mentor.
“You brought Avehi here to be heard, correct?” Khanaros continued his reprimanding. “I will be the judge of the merit and intent of her words. Not you. Is that understood?”
“... As you say, High Vindicator.” Argonas replied, tone laced with begrudgement.
He scowled once more at Nedemus, then again at Avehi, before stepping back - an apologetic glance to Mierne as he passed her by again.
The shaman brought a comforting hand up to the Vindicator’s arm as he moved by her. There was no disappointment to be seen in her features as she looked up at him, only concern. His reaction towards Avehi’s words, while non-conductive to what they were trying to achieve, was understandable.
“I know this is difficult, but we must keep a clear head. I know Avehi well, and I do feel her words are worth investigating, at the very least. If she is right, and the unspeakable has befallen your wife, then there are other ways to verify that claim, I’m certain.”
She glanced to Khanaros.
“I do not have a connection with the afterlife… but another shaman… or perhaps a priest? I’m certain they have a connection with the dead. If you do not trust the words of Death Knights, then perhaps calling on a worthy soul that has recently passed could communicate what they see.”
Khanaros exhaled a sigh, as he looked Avehi over. Pensive, thoughtful… still not entirely convinced. He knew this would be a difficult thing to hear out and pass suitable judgment on, but more so than he had anticipated. There was a lot of new information to consider, to process, and to weigh against the greater good of not just his people, but all people in general. Slowly, he shook his head.
“A difficult claim to verify, seeing as none of us possess the capacity to venture into this place ourselves.” he lamented, crossing his arms over his chest. “Is there any way you can prove that you saw Argonas’ wife? Or… any of this, for that matter?”
Avehi huffed. There wasn’t an easy way to do that, unfortunately. Khanaros was right about that. For a moment, she considered his point of view; would she be skeptical if their positions were reversed? No… no she wouldn’t. She would trust Khanaros, and take his word as truth at face value. A courtesy he apparently wasn’t willing to extend to her. Her nose crinkled, nostrils flaring in frustration. This was a waste of time.
“Allow me to kill and raise Argonas. He can see her for himself. Then come back and tell you all about it.” she snapped, glowering. “If you won’t take my word for it, perhaps you’ll take his!”
“Mind yourself, Avehi. Take this seriously, as I have been. Your indignation is no more helpful than Argonas’ aggression!” Khanaros snapped back, with a scowl of his own. “Given what you’ve been doing, it’s not unfair to ask for some manner of verification of your claim.”
He shook his head, and cleared his throat.
“I will ask again - if you know of a way your claim can be proven to us, I would hear it.”
Avehi scoffed, eyes trailing to Argonas. She stared at him for a moment, before speaking again.
“I spoke with her. She is lost, and scared. She thought you died as well. And she worried she somehow deserved to be there, and that you separated from her and joined with the Light.” she explained, managing her tone. “I told her you yet lived. And she gave me a message for you. She told me to tell you - in her words, mind you - to ‘stop being a dumbass’. And she said to have some alcohol ready for her when you bring her home.”
Argonas’ scowl remained, brow only knitting further with every word. His hands tensed to fists, lip curling to bare his teeth. He grunted.
“... High Vindicator, you give this thing far too much leeway.” he growled. “I will not stand here while you permit Avehi to besmirch my deceased wife in such a manner!”
“Then… you are dismissed.”
Argonas snapped his gaze to the High Vindicator, in shock!
“--What?”
“You are dismissed, Argonas.” he repeated, firmly. “Your presence is no longer required.”
“B-But… what about her? What is your judgment?”
Khanaros glanced to Argonas briefly, before sighing and looking to Avehi once more.
“Either she’s fabricated an elaborate lie to buy herself time… or she’s expressing to us a terrible truth.” he stated. “I am choosing to believe the latter, in this case.”
Avehi, too, looked surprised. She hadn’t expected Khanaros to believe her. To trust her. With all she’d seen so far, she wasn’t sure he hadn’t already made up his mind. In affirmation, she nodded to the High Vindicator.
“I… thank you.” she uttered, hesitantly.
“This is outrageous!” Argonas shouted, in anger! “She has been raising the dead! She came here and slandered my dead wife! And you believe her blatant lies?”
“You find error in my judgment, Vindicator Argonas?” Khanaros asked, tone threatening.
He didn’t even glance at Argonas' way. Instead he approached Avehi, arms still crossed before him. His gaze was penetrating, and severe.
“She knows if she is lying, there will be no second chance. If I must send someone for her a second time, it will not be to invite her to be heard.” he replied to Argonas… and cautioned the Death Knight. “I will be following up with the Auchenai to verify these things. Perhaps even the Ebon Blade, if they’ll speak to me. But one way or another, I will find out the truth.”
He dipped his head to Avehi, stern expression softening just so.
“And I hope when I do, I will owe you both an apology and appreciation for bringing this to my attention.”
“Hm! Then I will expect both once you’ve looked into this yourself, High Vindicator.” Avehi smirked, bowing her head in return.
Behind them, Argonas was seething. His face contorted into a hideous scowl, as he clenched his fists so hard as to cause his gauntlets to begin buckling! His face flushed blue, vessels bulging beneath his skin. With an agitated grunt, he turned and stomped off - he had been dismissed, after all…
Mierne breathed a sigh of relief as Khanaros gave his verdict. She looked over to him as Argonas stomped off, giving him a smile and a nod of approval.
“I will allow you to finish your business, then. See you tonight,” she informed her lover, before following after the younger Vindicator.
Nedemus nodded softly towards Khanaros. “Thank you for allowing her the chance to speak, Khanaros… Argonas seemed to make it appear that she had no choice in the matter, that you were unreasonable. Doesn’t seem like he was representing you well.”
Khanaros nodded to Mierne as she departed, before looking to Nedemus. He exhaled a heavy sigh, and shook his head.
“Argonas has always been… direct. Presumptuous.” he shrugged. “Despite what you may have seen of him here tonight, he means well. Perhaps not for you specifically, but for the world as a whole.”
“Hmph. If that were true, he wouldn’t work so hard to interfere.” Avehi commented, with a light scoff. “This issue grows worse by the day, and there’s still no clear way forward.”
“Mm, there’s still no clear problem, to many of us. I would not have known any wiser if you had not told me of it.” Khanaros explained. “For Argonas… his reluctance to believe all this shouldn’t surprise you. If not because it is adverse to all he knows, because accepting it means accepting the painful truth that his wife is suffering… and that he’s helpless to stop it.”
The High Vindicator shook his head, as he stepped back from the pair of Death Knights. He regarded them both, appraisingly.
“We will be in touch. Not only as I follow up on what you’ve revealed here tonight, but I also expect if anything more develops… you’ll let me know, correct?”
Avehi nodded once more, before dipping her head respectfully.
“We will, Khanaros. It is… a relief… to have your support in all this.”
“Mm. It isn’t support just yet. Not until I learn more of it. But for now… I’ll do what I can to see to it that your investigations aren’t hindered.” he replied, brow furrowed. “I make no guarantees; going around raising the dead certainly doesn’t sit well with a vast majority of people. So being, I trust you’re at least keeping that to a minimum?”
“As much as I can.” Avehi nodded once more. “This existence isn’t any I would wish on anyone. But compared to the Maw…”
She trailed off, shaking her head. Khanaros nodded, understanding nonetheless. He turned from the two, and began to walk the cobbled path - deeper into the cemetery, rather than out of it.
“Mm. Light guide you, Avehi. Nedemus.” he bid them as he departed.
(( Co-written with @thefugitivemango / @argonas / @avehi-the-adamant following the story ‘Justified’. Tagging @nedemus and @sinafay1 / @codegemini for character mention ))
~*~*~
Argonas’ angered pacing stopped at a nearby fountain. Mierne wasn’t far behind him, having followed him from the cemetery. She made no effort to conceal her presence, though her hoof steps could barely be heard compared to his. Sparks of Light crackle across the Vindicator’s armor as he seethed. She paid them no mind as she moved to his side. There was silence as she pondered what to say. Surely, there were none that felt proper to soothe her friend's anger. Instead, she simply rested a hand on his plated arm.
...Not for long, however. He pulled away immediately with a scowl,
“ I need not your pity, nor your consolation, Mierne." he snapped.
“I offer neither. Merely a listening ear.”
“Hmph! What more is there to say? The Light's justice has failed today!”
“It did not work out the way you wished, but that does not mean it failed.”
“He is letting her GO, Mierne! He is letting Avehi continue defiling the dead, with no consequences!”
She merely shook her head, ever patient, “He is investigating."
"—What more is there to investigate?! She admitted to it!" He was shouting now as more enraged Light crackled off his body. Truly, an intimidating sight.
Though Mierne refused to allow it to affect her so. “If there is really something wrong with the afterlife, would you not want to know? If Sinafay is suffering—“
“—Enough! Sinafay is -not- suffering!
“But what if she -is-, Argonas?!” she persisted, “Would you not want to save her from that fate?!”
The Vindicator shook his head, sweeping his arm in front of him in a large negative gesture, "She died a most noble death! The Light would not allow her to enter into this 'Maw', or whatever! She is one with the Light, now!" he stated, firmly. "Avehi is lying!"
"And if you're wrong?"
"The Light would not fail Sinafay like that. It delivered me from death. It would not see her suffer in the same stroke! You trust Avehi far too much.”
“Perhaps. But you are blinded by your hatred for her. If she is lying, Khanaros will find out, and then your justice can be delivered. You must exercise patience!”
Argonas shook his head, and turned back towards the fountain, "Khanaros... hmph. He has changed.He used to carry such a definitive sense of justice. A decisive and sure demeanor. Seeing him back there, I felt I was watching a completely different person than my old mentor!”
Mierne frowned, "He hasn't changed at all. I have known him since before you were born. Khanaros has always been level headed and just! You say this because he did not make a decision you agreed with! This is a complicated issue and it must be treated as such.”
Argonas 's tail twitched. Her words seemed to strike something in him. He turned his head slowly, eyes narrowing at the Shaman. "No... instead, he made a decision -you- agree with. You have long been an advocate for Avehi, have you not?”
“Which is why I wasn't the one passing judgment. I was there to see that Avehi was given the proper chance to explain herself. That was my only request to Khanaros.”
“Truly? Is that -all- you were there for? You hold more sway over the High Vindicator than anyone else! Even if you did not ask directly, he knows well how close you and Avehi are. What she -means- to you! You have interfered with proper justice, Mierne! Intentionally or not... the High Vindicator must have been soft on Avehi because of -you-!” He huffed, "It is the only explanation!"
“Don't be ridiculous! Khanaros had no intentions to even speak to Avehi until Nedemus brought up the issue with the afterlife!”
“I know well he played his part in these... manipulations, as well. But this hearing would not have even happened if it were not for you and your relationship with him!”
“If you think that Khanaros put his feelings for me ahead of his duties as High Vindicator, then you are a fool!”
“Hah! -I- am a fool? I believe if you seriously think Avehi's made-up story about the afterlife being ‘broken’ is true, then it is YOU who are the fool, here!”
“I know Avehi well enough to know that she is -not- a liar. If you had any ounce of sense left in you, you would see that.”
“You knew her in life, perhaps! Undeath changes people! Twists and perverts them into monsters! I have seen it! And now that Avehi has shown herself to be one, your bias towards her clouds your judgment. And the High Vindicator's judgment by virtue of your relationship with him!"
“Certain things have changed, yes. But she is still the Avehi I knew on Draenor. Her drive to do what is right and her honesty have persevered even in death!”
“Bah! Something else entirely drives her, now. She has proven that by raising and defiling so many with her necrotic magics! Her fabricated lies about the afterlife and the Maw are just her way of justifying her abhorrent actions! And they have worked perfectly on you and Khanaros!”
Mierne let out an exasperated sigh, clearly frustrated at the Vindicator’s refusal to listen to reason.
"No... no, this is not justice,” he huffed, “This is not the Light's will! If Khanaros will not see to righteous vindication for Zaalesh and the others... I will."
Mierne stepped forward, immediately grabbing his arm again, "You will leave Avehi be until the High Vindicator finishes his investigation!"
Argonas looked down at the Shaman’s hand, before tugging his arm away once more. He scowled.
"I take no orders from -you-, Mierne! You cannot manipulate me like you do Khanaros! I will be watching Avehi closely. If she sets even half a hoof out of line, defiles any more fallen, or even breathes my wife's name again... I will do what I should have done in Northrend, and end her miserable existence! The High Vindicator has until such time to finish his so-called ‘investigation’. Otherwise, he will not need to!”
Mierne 's tail flickered in clear agitation, "Argonas, this is my final warning. Do -not- allow yourself to be led by your grief and anger."
"What else do I have?!” He snarled, “I have lost -everything- now, Mierne! My wife, my child, and now my mentor! Grief and anger are all I have left!"
“No, it is not! You cannot allow yourself to be lost to this! You are -more- than this!”
He shook his head stubbornly once more, turning from both Mierne and the fountain.
"All I am is an instrument for the Light's justice. And I -will- see justice met! Mark my words, Mierne... Avehi will atone for what she has done."
“What you are doing is -not- justice! It is zealotry!”
“No, it is vindication. And I am a Vindicator.”
As Argonas began to depart in a huff, Mierne took a step forward, but resigned to saying anything more, allowing him to leave. She had no parting words for him, only a frustrated sigh.
The male worgen awoke in a pit, his vision blurred as an odd sensation flew through his veins. He began to survey his surroundings... A deep, treacherous pit lined with fresh corpses and limbs, in various states of decay. Joining him were two more of his kind, a female and a younger male, who were looking around in confusion as well, all three gathering as much information as they could in such a short time. The others were unfamiliar to him, the others the same as the growls began to fill the pit, fur raised as they shared untrusting glances.
Finally, they all turned to see him, the dark, iron-clad figure that stood menacingly at the top of the pit. His features were hidden by shadow, save for the icy stare that looked upon the pitiful creatures. He raised the weapon in his hand, pointing to the pit. As he spoke, his voice echoed in the minds of the worgen.
“There’s only room for one.”
In an instant, all three worgen turned upon each other, claws wild as the fight began to appease their new master. The older male was beset by the others, claws and teeth digging their way into his flesh, the male growling in confusion as he barely felt any of the actions. He grasped the mane of the other male, who was currently latched onto his other arm, swiftly bringing his knee to the stomach of the offender, baring his teeth as the female continued to scratch at his back. Upon contact, the younger male let out a yip, his mouth releasing the bite of the older’s arm, allowing the other male to move swiftly, pulling hard at the mane in his grasp, spinning him around and colliding him into the female, knocking her away.
Continuing the spin, the younger male was spun around full before being slammed into the ground, the older male placing his full weight upon the struggling worgen. He pressed the attack swiftly, a flurry of claws as he ravaged the body beneath him, the struggles of the youth dying down, as unlife left his body.
Seizing the moment, the female tackled him, slashing at his back once more as the pair of bodies tumbled into the pit, a mesh of fur and blood flying as bite was met with bite, scratch was met with scratch. The tumble ended as the female landed on top of him, her claws flying towards his throat. In desperation, he intercepted her claws with his own, catching her by the wrist, his other hand grasping the scruff of her neck, grasping it tightly as he yanked hard, bringing his head to collide against hers.
In her moment of daze, he twisted the arm he held, snapping the bone and breaking her wrist as she let out a howl of pain. Following this moment, he shift his weight, rolling the two of them around to put himself to the top, releasing her wrist as he grabbed both the back of her head and her jaw. In that instant, her eyes met with his, wide with fear, and recognition, a painful whimper as his eyes burned with rage and determination. His powerful hands twist swiftly, snapping the neck of the woman underneath, her form falling limp to the ground.
The lone worgen released her, looking to the corpses he just added to the pile, no remorse in his eyes as he stood, turning to his new master.
“Come, acolyte...” his deep, icy voice echoing once more into his mind. “Your purpose is only beginning.”
The worgen moved to the edge of the pit, climbing out as more corpses of his former packmates were dropped into the pit, the ritual being prepared for them to repeat. The worgen stepped onto the ground, looking up to the several dozen fellow acolytes standing at attention behind their master, as he shifted his attention once more to the monster standing atop the pit. His paw was brought to his chest, offering him a loyal salute, covered in the blood of his former mate and offspring...
F/M/K for Argonas. Nedemus, Avehi, Sylaess. (much giggle. HAVE UNDEADS.)
“... Hm. Well... I have no desire to sleep with or marry any undead. But least of all... a male of a different species. I would have to choose Nedemus to kill, by default. If I were to sleep with an undead, I suppose I would prefer she be Draenei, like me. Therefore, in this hypothetical situation, I would lie with Avehi. This leaves marrying Sylaess, which... makes sense. Of the three, we are good friends. I trust her, and would not mind continuing our friendship in a newer capacity such as marriage.”
Acherus hadn’t changed a bit. Oddly, it was here that Avehi had the closest sense of coming home. She hated it; of all the places she wished felt like home, Acherus was certainly not one of them. The Exodar, Stormwind, even the wilds like her trusted friend Mierne; these places were far more fitting a 'home' for her, or so she believed. Yet nothing felt as familiar or - dare she say right - as setting hoof in this Scourge-built flying fortress. Even in light of recent events, being inside Acherus' walls again felt familiarly comfortable to Avehi. Perhaps innately? Or even longingly, reminiscent of days long past…
Still she pressed on, venturing further inside the Necropolis - brimming with determination. She came here with a purpose, and that purpose drove her. She’d been at odds with the Ebon Blade for a long time, now. But it wasn’t always the case; when she first broke free of the Lich King’s dominion, the Ebon Blade was an organization of vindication. But somewhere along the way, she felt they had lost sight of that.
To be fair, though… so had she.
She, too, had changed a lot since the incursion on Light’s Hope. She felt removing herself from the Blade would somehow keep her from succumbing to dark practices. But things weren’t so black and white in her eyes anymore. What she once felt was abhorrent became justifiable. Methods she wouldn’t have considered in life seemed viable in death. It worried her at first; but she came to realize that this change in perspective wasn’t altering, but broadening. In life, she’d been so focused on one path. One right way, where everything else was wrong - the illusion of the Light. She was a zealot. She saw that now, only by interacting with other zealots post-mortem. Death had opened her eyes, and allowed her to see many paths the Light had blinded her to in the past. And now, spared from the delusions brought on by her people’s sacred power, she saw more and more with each passing day.
The Ebon Blade wasn’t perfect, she knew. Like her, they’d made mistakes. But from what she was hearing and seeing, they hadn’t lost their legacy of vindication. Not yet. That was why she had returned here to Acherus - to reconcile.
It would be no small feat, she knew; already, as she had arrived, Ebon Ravagers and Enforcers congregated behind her while she made her way to the Heart of Acherus. Weapons drawn. They knew who she was. Still, she continued as far inside as she was allowed, driven by her determination to see this through.
“--Avehi, the Adamant.” came a deep - yet oddly soothing - voice.
Avehi’s tail twitched. She recognized it immediately. She turned to its source; a Tauren by the name of Torme Wraithgrain. They’d worked closely in the past, combating the Lich King’s foul Scourge all throughout Northrend together. Torme was a force to be reckoned with; strong, both physically and with the necrotic power surging through all Death Knights… and yet she exhibited wisdom and serenity rarely found among them. Avehi had always respected her for that.
“Torme.” she dipped her head to the Death Knight, in greeting.
“You’ve returned. Unexpected, considering…” Torme approached, not nearly as threateningly as the surrounding Ravagers had.
“I have.” Avehi nodded, defiantly. “I’m here to explain myself to the Four. My actions are justified, and I’ve come to make them see that.”
Quiet murmurs broke out among the gathered Knights, before quickly becoming silenced as Torme raised her hand to them. The response was more than just respect… but answering to authority. Avehi raised her brow, curiously. What station had Torne attained to command such obedience?
The Tauren’s eyes narrowed, as she looked Avehi over - gauging her intentions, as well as sizing her up. Slowly she shook her head.
“... The Four are with the Deathlord. And the Deathlord is in Icecrown.” Torme disclosed, neatly folding her hands in front of her. “They all may be there for some time.”
“What are they doing there?” Avehi frowned, tone bordering on accusatory.
Torme didn’t respond, verbally. But it was plain enough to see in her slow exhale and subtle eye shifting that she knew full well the reason; she had no inclination to say, was all. Instead, she shook her head in dismissal of the question. That, of course, only irritated Avehi. The Draenei huffed.
“Fine.” she scoffed. “I’ll return later, when they’ve concluded their business in Icecrown.”
She turned to depart - but the Ebon Enforcers didn’t seem at all inclined to let her go. They kept their runic weapons drawn, boxing her in within the Heart of Acherus. Avehi’s eyes flared, tail twitching. Her hand slowly moved up as she began to reach back for Rokaa, her hammer...
“--You can explain yourself to the Convocation.” Torme interjected, once more raising her hand to stay the Enforcers. “The Four have charged us with managing the affairs of the Ebon Blade in their absence. We will hear what you have to say.”
“‘We’?” Avehi turned back to Torme quickly, brow askew.
That explained it; she was one of the governing Knights of Acherus. It both surprised Avehi, and didn’t; such progression made sense for those who remained with the Blade. She wondered how far she would’ve advanced had she kept under their banner… it didn’t matter now. Torme was a sensible choice, at least. As thoughtful and pensive as she was, she was sure to make well-informed and thought-out decisions to guide the Ebon Blade.
Torme nodded once, simply. Bowed her head, really. A peaceable, modest gesture, like most of the movements the serene Tauren made. She treated it like a courtesy, offering Avehi a favor. And in all reality, it probably was one. The alternative seemed… violent. Avehi exhaled a sigh, and nodded in return. If she could pick and choose to whom she was to explain herself, Torme would most assuredly be one such person.
“Who else is a part of the Convocation?”
“Dread Commander Thalanor, or course.” Torme replied. “As is Lord Darrows, Dorann Rimeforge and--”
“Betrayer!”
A harsh voice called out from within the crowd. The assembly of Ebon Knights parted, making way for the approach of a large, aggressive-looking Orc. Avehi’s gaze narrowed at him, as he approached.
“Hmph. Grek’thor…” she acknowledged the Orc, tone dripping venomously as she uttered his name.
“... Yes. Grek’thor Spinereaver. You seem to recognize each other.” Torme sighed, stepping forward to position herself between the two. “We five govern Acherus, and maintain the peace among our kind.”
The Tauren looked pointedly to Grek’thor, but he hardly noticed; his snarling attentions were focused solely on Avehi. Avehi’s lips curled into a snarl in response, a reflexive gesture upon seeing him. Like Torme, Avehi knew Grek’thor from Northrend, fighting side by side with him in the early days of the Ebon Blade. But unlike Torme, she and Grek’thor didn’t get along. At all. Both had clung to their opinions and prejudices from their prior lives, the Draenei and the Orc finding one another deplorable - to put it mildly. The aggressive tendencies brought about by undeath exacerbated that age-old hatred, resulting in what may be the most volatile of Avehi's relationships. Their time working together was short... and violent… but both had managed to walk away from one another unscathed.
For now.
“I want this honorless filth in chains!” the Orc demanded.
Avehi let out a scoff! Torme at least made sense as a member of the Convocation. But Grek’thor? This arrogant, brute? Tail switching in irritation, she waved a dismissive hand at the Orc, turning up her nose at him.
“I’m amazed the Convocation lets a thick-skulled Orc like you aid in making decisions!” Avehi shot back, plated hands balled into fists. “Try and bind me yourself, if you’re so inclined! It’ll be the last thing you do on this mortal plane!”
“Unsurprising! The Betrayer threatens to slay yet another of her Ebon kin?”
“I didn’t come here with any intention or reason to kill you, Grek’thor - don't tempt me with one!”
“Grrrr… you want a reason?! I’ll rip those horns from your head and gut you with them!”
Grek’thor rushed at Avehi, nearly barreling through Torme to close in! The Draenei practically roared as she reached back to unsheath her hammer - but she never got the chance. Torme was quick to break the two up, pushing both of them apart with considerable unholy force before they could come to blows. Her otherwise-calm and collected tone raised with authority, frigid winds swirling around her in a vortex of piercing cold. The two would-be combatants could only stagger back - as did a few gathered spectators.
“ENOUGH!”
An unsettling hush fell over the Heart, as Avehi and Grek’thor stared one another down. The winds abated. Torme straightened, resuming her serene posture, as she turned to Avehi. She frowned in disapproval, beckoning one of the Enforcer to approach. Another face familiar to Avehi, the Enforcer was another Draenei named Tovaar. He stood out to her because he never spoke a word to her - or anyone - as long as she'd known him. Silently, as expected, he approached, lips pressed to a line. She'd been kind to him in the past… the conflict of how he was to treat her now in turn evident enough on his face beneath his hood.
“Though he failed to broach the issue properly… Grek’thor is right.” Torme nodded once. “Given your offenses, Avehi, you’ll need to be bound for the security of the Hold.”
The ghostly echo of a smug and satisfied grunt emanated from the Orc, as he crossed his arms. Tovaar pulled a set of manacles out and opened them up. As much as she was inclined to… she didn’t resist. Instead, she kept a neutral gaze on Tovaar, and nodded once compliantly. The manacles latched tight, keeping her wrists practically touching. But more than that, she could feel her energy abating as runes along the cuffs began to pulse. Not only bound, but weakened as well. She grunted disapprovingly - more so as her hammer was relieved of her by Tovaar. He held with a measure of care, at least. She gave a cursory tug, testing the security of the manacles, before scoffing.
“I’m certain you’ll see no reason to keep me bound after I’ve said my piece.” she stated firmly, and nodded to Torme.
The Tauren turned from Avehi, folding her hands neatly into one another behind her back as she retreated further into the Heart of Acherus. She bid Avehi - and her Enforcer escort - to follow.
“We shall see.”
Word spread quickly through the Necropolis. Soon enough, Avehi was surrounded by the whole host of Acherian Knights who had come to watch and listen. They surrounded the pit where the Draenei stood. Alone. She recalled this pit well; upon being risen, she was put up against another Knight in this very ring to fight to the final death, and prove herself as a worthy soldier in the Lich King's armies. Ten, eleven, perhaps twelve prospective Knights fell by her freshly forged rune blade that day. Looking around the pit now, she could still visualize where each of them had fallen… before their corpses were dragged away for parts. That wasn't the only time she'd stood here, either; practicing here on training days after the Lich King fell, she honed her skills, tempered her Hunger, and grew more accustomed to undeath.
Now, standing in the center of the Heart of Acherus, Avehi had never felt so vulnerable. Bound in shackles, relieved of her weapon, with hundreds of fellow Death Knights peering at her. The manacles continually drew upon her necrotic energy, stunting the very essence of her power. She might as well have been armless; even then, she could defend herself better if things went poorly. But like this, there was no way out. Bound, crippled, surrounded... She expected it. One way or another, she knew the Blade would restrain her. At least they were willing to hear her out, rather than just lock her away in a cage somewhere. It made her no less trapped, all the same.
The only way out was to appeal to the Convocation. They all gathered, one by one, atop the ledge of the pit. At the center of the five stood Dread Commander Thalanor, an elf of some repute - both pre- and post-death. In life, he served as a Ranger Commander, fighting until his last breath to defend his people's sacred Sunwell. In undeath, he rose the ranks quickly as a trusted Commander, both to the Lich King, and the Ebon Blade as they all found sovereignty. Now, he was named the Second in Command of Acherus itself, answering only to the Four Horsemen and the Deathlord. His leadership talents were unquestionable.
To his left, Lord Geoffrey Darrows, a former Kirin Tor wizard-turned-Necromancer brought into undeath when Dalaran was attacked. He had a reputation for being reclusive; how he came to become a member of the Convocation eluded Avehi. Perhaps due to his vast arcane knowledge? It was all Avehi could figure, anyway.
To Lord Darrows' left stood Dorann Rimeforge, a dwarven smith known across all of Azeroth. Avehi knew him well; the two shared a passion for crafting that even undeath couldn't diminish. They forged all manner of weapons and armor together, right here in Acherus. He seemed to recognize her, too; though unlike Tovaar, he wore no conflicted look on his bearded face. If anything… he looked disappointed. Avehi hoped after hearing her explanation, he'd understand… and given their positive relationship, vouch for her release.
Torme and Grek'thor stood to the Dread Commander's right, both peering at Avehi; neutrally and with contempt, respectively. Torme would see reason, Avehi suspected. That she was willing to hear out the Draenei at all was sign enough of that. By the same token, she was equally certain Grek'thor would do all he could to see her punished to the highest extent. He was definitely her biggest obstacle in this.
"Hmph. We've gathered - now speak your piece, Betrayer!" he barked, as the Heart fell silent. "Let's see this done."
Avehi swallowed hard, before clearing her throat. She had to calm herself - rising to Grek'thor's goading now, as she did before, would end all this before it began. She couldn't afford that. She still had a promise to keep…
"It has come to my attention that I'm wanted by the Ebon Blade." she began. "Respectfully, I feel this is in error. I'm here to explain why."
The Convocation all looked to one another, as hushed murmurings washed over the gathered Knights. Despite her heavily compromised position, Avehi retained her confidant poise.
"You're wanted for murdering a high ranking Ebon Blade official! Unprovoked!" Lord Darrows replied, incredulously. "What possible explanation could you have for doing that?"
"Do yeh deny it, lass?" Dorann added.
Avehi shook her head.
"I don't deny it," Avehi shook her head, "but it was not unprovoked. Tylveris Corpsedancer attacked me, and people close to me, in an effort to retrieve that artifact for the Ebon Blade. I acted in self defense."
The Draenei was met with puzzled expressions from all the Convocation but Grek'thor - who only continued to glare. They spoke lowly to one another, shaking their heads and shrugging…
"...What artifact?" Torme asked.
"I… don't know what it was called." Avehi shook her head, frowning. "Whatever artifact you told her to retrieve. Either way, her methods were--"
"--Tell us about the artifact!" Grek'thor barked.
Her tail flickered again, lips twitching as she resisted the urge to snarl back at the Orc. She had to keep composure...
"It was a bracelet of some kind. It imbued the wielder with immense power. Tylveris was seeking it to empower herself, but… it was destroyed when I killed her." she explained, calmly. "I’m told that originally, it was discovered by someone named Kholdiir Dunbar… and ultimately brought about his demise."
"Are we supposed t' know who that is?" Dorann huffed.
"--Some of us do." Lord Darrows interjected. "She speaks of one of the Lost Foci. It is said Dunbar discovered one, and - like she mentioned - it cost him his life. Such power is not for mortals to wield."
"Why was Corpsedancer seeking this relic, then?" Torme asked.
Avehi blinked. Her brow furrowed, shoulders shrugging. How was she supposed to know that?
"She did so at the Ebon Blade's command… didn't she?"
Silence was answer enough. The Convocation looked to one another, conferring silently concerning this new information. It wasn't hard to piece together; Tylveris acted on her own in pursuit of the artifact. It all made Avehi feel a lot better about coming clean. She'd intended to protest the methods Tylveris used, and explain her actions on killing her was self defense. But this was a much cleaner justification.
"Tch... If what yer sayin' is true… it aligns too closely with other concerns 'bout Tylveris Corpsedancer that this Convocation's had fer some time." Dorann explained. "T' answer yer question… nae. Th' Ebon Blade dinnae instruct Tylveris t' seek down such a relic."
"She was honorless." Grek'thor added, with a grunt. "She rose the ranks doing underhanded dealings. We've long suspected she'd make an attempt to climb higher… by any means necessary."
"Rumors and whisperings of Corpsedancer's plans to emancipate the Shadow Vault from the Ebon Blade have circulated for some time… but nothing was ever proven." Lord Darrows elaborated. "If she was seeking out one of the Lost Foci in secret… it likely wasn't for the benefit of the Blade."
This was all excellent to hear. Not just because Avehi was further justified in killing Tylveris, but hearing the Convocation's concern about her actions proved they weren't as morally bankrupt as she feared they were. Torme, Dorann, the Dread Commander… even Grek'thor, to a degree, all being in a position of power among the Ebon Blade, expressing concerns about malicious Knights, and striving to maintain peace… it was refreshing.
"Hm. Sounds as if I actually did the Blade a favor by killing her." Avehi smirked.
"Hmph! It may excuse her death, but what about Salynna Dawnbane?" Grek'thor scowled. "Murdered right here in Acherus just six weeks ago! Do you deny involvement in that?”
Avehi never learned her name, but she knew precisely who Grek’thor was talking about; the elf that raised Unkhra’huun… against her will. She remembered the encounter well. Her terrified demeanor, her eyes - cut from her head, by what Avehi suspected was her own hand. The way she begged for death…
"..Kill me.. please. I can not bear it anymore.. please.. I just keep seeing them.. bleeding, pustules, diseased, end it, PLEASE!"
The Draenei shook her head, and let out a sorrowful sigh. She didn’t wish for it to go as it had, but she had no choice. In truth, the elf had taken her own life, before Nedemus bashed her head against the cold stone wall - assuring her merciful death was final.
“... I was involved in that. But you must know that, too, was for a good reason.”
“Pray tell… what reason?” Torme crossed her arms.
“She travelled to Auchindoun, and raised an Auchenai Death Shepherd.” Avehi informed them. “She did this against her own will… and the will of the Ebon Blade. Her hand was forced, and her mind was lost. Killing her was a kindness.”
“Outrageous! What proof do you have?” Grek’thor growled.
“What proof do you need? Surely you’ve heard the reports - a Death Knight killing priests in Stormwind? He’s dangerous as he is now, and someone raised him for a reason!” Avehi snapped back, frowning - her composure failing as she began to argue with Grek’thor. “How long before the whole of Azeroth points the blame on Acherus?”
The crowd murmured louder, concern in every echoing voice. Torme stomped her hoof against the cold stone floor, silencing the masses quickly. She sighed.
“Your point is valid… we’ve been made aware of the incident to which you refer.” she nodded. “It appears you know a great deal more about it than we do.”
“I’m working with the Auchenai to find out who did this and why.” Avehi explained. “Coming to Acherus and finding Salynna was a part of that investigation.”
“Then why didja run, lass?” Dorann piped up.
“I… could not be hindered from my investigation.” she admitted.
“Then… why have you come back now?” Torme followed up.
“Because I need your help as much as you need mine. Finding out who raised the Death Shepherd benefits all of us as much as it benefits the Auchenai.” she declared, firmly. “I can’t continue investigating while looking over my shoulder for Enforcers and Hunters.”
She stepped towards the Convocation… and knelt down. This was it; she had to place her unlife in their hands, hoping they saw the reason in her actions. Supplication seemed appropriate, considering what was at stake.
"I came to face judgment. I'm sure I'm as tired of running as you are of pursuing." she sighed. "I've had my own misgivings about the Ebon Blade in the past. But if you're truly an organization set on keeping the peace among our kind… you know that helping in this investigation is the right decision."
The Convocation all looked to one another, before gathering to deliberate. They conferred in hushed whispers so low, they still couldn't be heard in the dead-silence that permeated Acherus. Avehi remained still, head hung as she stared at the ground. Her tail betrayed her anxiety in this moment. She was placing a lot of faith in the Convocation. And she hadn't placed faith in anything for a long, long time.
After a moment, the five of them formed up once more, towering over the Draenei. Torme nodded once to Tovaar, subtly. The Enforcer stepped into the pit… Avehi's hammer in hand.
"Th' Convocation's reached a decision, lass." Dorann stated.
"After hearing your detailed explanations, and in light of your… assistance… in keeping that artifact out of Tylveris Corpsedancer's malicious hands…” Lord Darrows continued.
“... We’ve agreed to pardon your actions against the Ebon Blade.” Torme nodded once, firmly.
Tovaar placed the hammer back in Avehi’s hands - and with a fluid action, unlatched her manacles. They fell loose, caught by the Enforcer before he stepped back. Avehi stood, exhaling a sigh as she felt her power - both innate and resonate with her trusted weapon - flow through her once more. She nodded appreciatively to Tovaar, before sheathing her hammer. Her eyes returned then to the Convocation.
“Thank you.” she dipped her head, politely.
“... With some conditions.” Torme added.
“Hmph. You’ve been operating as a rogue agent too long, Draenei.” Grek’thor grunted. “Whatever your reasons, your actions reflect on the Ebon Blade as a whole. If you want the Blade’s help in this investigation, you’ll do so as a member of the Blade once again.”
Dread Commander Thalanor finally spoke, stepping forward to the ledge separating Avehi and the Convocation. His eyes pierced hers with authority, as he nodded once.
“This is your only option.” he stated… tone as cautionary as it was inviting.
Avehi nodded once more as well, expression neutral. This, too, was expected. She knew burying the hatchet with the Ebon Blade would come with such a cost. But in a way, she was happy about it. She’d seen now, first-hand, that the Ebon Blade had reasonable Knights among their leadership. She respected the Convocation… some members more than others… but enough that she felt acting under the Ebon banner again would be… positive. Like old times. Whether she liked it or not… Acherus was her home once more.
“May it be so.”
~*~
(( @miernethepersevering / @kidcatgemini and @nedemus / @prancingmad for mentions. Unkhra’huun belongs to @archmage-stillwater ))
| Avehi’s Prelude | Argonas’ Prelude | Pt. I | Pt. II | Pt. III | Pt. IV |
Quickly as she could, Avehi slipped behind a pillar. The Naga responded quickly, that was for sure! The one that escaped must have called reinforcements in to sweep the ruins and finish her and Argonas off. She scowled; if Argonas had managed to finish off that one that escaped, this wouldn’t have happened! She peeked around from the pillar… but saw nothing. A look closer would give away her position, and she wasn’t sure how many there were. Had they already gotten Argonas? Or by storming off, had he inadvertently evaded them? It didn’t matter - she could take them. She could take them all.
Silently, she slipped her hammer down from her back into her waiting hands as the steps grew closer and-- ‘Steps?’ she realized. Naga didn’t walk. They slithered! This didn’t sound like any naga at all. In fact, it sounded a lot like hoofsteps. Too light to be Argonas’, however. Could it be?
‘...Mierne?’
There was only one way to know for certain. Avehi quietly peered out from behind the pillar once more, to see the intruder. It wasn’t a Naga, but… it wasn’t Mierne either.
“--Sina?”
Sure enough, by some coincidence, Sinafay had wandered upon her! The two blinked at one another, surprised and confused to see each other in such a place!
"Avehi?"
“What are you doing down here?” the Death Knight asked, as she stepped down from the ledge and sheathed her hammer.
Sinafay shook her head, seemingly exhausted from simply recalling all that had transpired! She let out a light sigh.
“Well... “ she shrugged. “I was on a boat and a hole opened up in the ocean so…”
"--Aah... you were on that ship? Tch..." Avehi frowned. “Not ideal... Glad you're okay, at least.”
Unsurprising - Sinafay had been working with the Seventh Legion a while now. But to bump into her here and now, immediately following that heated conversation with Argonas was… alarming. Sinafay nodded, seeming relieved to see another familiar face in such a dour place.
"Indeed. This was an unexpected detour.” she understated. “Sylaess is here too, but... I was unaware you were on the ship as well."
“I wasn’t.” Avehi shook her head. “I had High Vindicator Khanaros beam me down here."
Her expression curdled, unable to help but morph into a scowl.
“The Naga... they took Mierne.”
Sinafay’s luminous eyes widened a bit… as her brow raised both to compensate widening eyes, and in some small measure of confusion. She couldn’t quite place the name…
"Mierne... who is that again?"
The Death Knight scoffed a bit.
“My friend. My shaman friend, remember?” she snapped, as if it should have been obvious! “I know I've talked about her to you!”
“Oh! The one Argo slept with?” Sinafay replied.
‘Sure. That she remembers…’ Avehi thought to herself.
“The very one.” Avehi said aloud. “--Aah, speaking of, he's down here too.”
“Oh?” Sinafay replied, seeming both excited… and worried.
A part of why she had embarked on a Seventh Legion mission was to distance herself from Argonas a bit, and distract herself from the pregnancy. It came as a surprise, to be sure - for both of them. She simply needed some time to process it, grow accustomed to it… and accept it. Especially after…
"He's scouting ahead around here, somewhere." Avehi added, breaking Sinafay’s train of thought.
A welcome deviation, all the same. Sinafay didn’t want to dwell on it too long. Especially in a place like this.She nodded, looking off into the distance.
"Here to rescue her as well, I assume?" she inquired.
“At the High Vindicator's direction.” Avehi all but scoffed, shaking her head. “Personally, I don't need him. He's slowing me down."
“You will think differently when the naga begin to swarm.”
“Perhaps so.” Avehi shrugged, joining Sinafay in gazing out across the alien landscape. “I’m tearing down that keep over there brick by brick either way.”
Sinafay gave Avehi a tired grin. The Death Knight’s arrogance was amusing, in a way. She wondered if Argonas was sent along with Avehi to make sure she didn’t get herself killed. Again.
"He is also good at assuring you will not rush into situations blindly."
“Hmph!” Avehi scoffed! “You sure about that? He seems to have rushed into this little situation blindly…”
She motioned to Sinafay - specifically, her midsection. It wasn’t too hard to realize to what she was referring - a topic Sinafay wasn’t keen on discussing. Her expression changed immediately to one of hurt. She turned, stepping closer to a pillar and leaning against it, tail dragging behind her.
"That was my fault.” she said, somberly. “He was taking precautions. I was not."
“Clearly neither of you were.” Avehi retorted, skeptically.
“He was taking herbal tea.”
"If he were taking the tea, you wouldn't be pregnant. Isn't that the point of the tea?”
“Nothing is one hundred percent effective.” Sinafay sighed, knowing that well, now. “Perhaps if we both had been taking it, but…”
"--Now you're trapped down here, carrying his baby…” Avehi interrupted. “I guess he's slowing both of us down, in different ways.This works out, though. When he sees you, he'll come stay with you down here, and I can press on with finding Mierne.”
"Are you done?" Sinafay asked, shooting Avehi a nasty look.
“--Settle down, I'm joking.” Avehi replied with a light shrug. “... Sort of.”
“Are you?”
“Yes, yes…” the Death Knight waved a hand - apparently she’d irked her friend. “He's actually keeping pace with me pretty well, for a living person."
Sinafay's tail flickered, before she relaxed slightly. She went back to looking out over the terrace.
"You were paired up for a reason.” she counseled. “Whether you like each other or not, you need to work together to help rescue your friend."
Avehi sighed - Sinafay was right. The High Vindicator didn’t know Argonas had any personal connection to Mierne. He selected him to join Avehi on this important mission all the same. She knew Khanaros wasn’t a fool. Even in an emotionally charged situation like this, she knew he had the tactical details in the forefront of his mind. Argonas was clearly a good pick for this. And as much as she hated admitting it… it was never a bad idea to have back-up.
"... Maybe.” she admitted, spitting out the word as if she wished to keep it in her mouth forever. “I suppose it wouldn't be bad, having someone watch my back. Just in case? I mean… it didn't do his wife any good on Argus, but…”
Avehi shrugged.
"I'm already dead."
Sinafay sighed. Heavily. That subject was touchy as well, but… Avehi wasn’t exactly wrong. She opted to ignore the comment.
“What's the situation down here, Alliance-wise? They have a base set up, I presume?” Avehi glanced to Sinafay, inquisitively changing the subject. "Or are you and Sylaess the only ones who made it?"
“There are ruins to the southwest of the maw. Survivors are taking care of injured and gathering what supplies they can salvage.” Sinafay reported. “We have allies.... fish-like people. I forget what it is they are called. But they were battling the naga before we arrived.”
“Mm. 'The enemy of my enemy...'” Avehi nodded once, letting the quote trail off. “Argonas and I should stop by, I suppose. He'll need rest, at some point."
“A good place to recharge for certain.” Sinafay agreed. “Those of us who were fortunate enough to come out uninjured were sent out to explore and secure footholds.”
“Makes sense. What are the options for avenues out of here?” The Death Knight followed up, eyes cast to the sky. “Beaming down here from the Vindicaar was a one-way trip. We don't have a return beacon or anything... and we'll need to get Mierne home immediately.”
She clenched her fists.
"No telling what those savage Naga are doing to her..."
“Some of the battle-mages are attempting to create a portal to Boralus.” Sinafay looked to Avehi, brow askew. “...Do you know why your friend was taken? I thought she lived away from all this, on the Isles.”
Avehi hesitated in answering that, going quiet for a moment - oddly stoic, even for her. Her tail flickered once or twice, as she debated confiding in Sinafay. What would she think of her? Her lichfire eyes looked over other Vindicator. Why was she worried? Sinafay was her friend. The type of friend she could tell anything to, honestly and candidly.
“Did she join the war?” Sinafay began guessing, bridging the awkward silence. “Was she taken from the boat?”
“... Can I tell you a secret, Sister?”
"Who am I going to tell?" Sinafay asked, with a shrug.
"It's my fault."
The Lightforged raised her brow at Avehi.
"How so?"
“Did I... tell you about Nedemus' relic? The one the Ebon Blade is after?”
“I do not believe so.” she shook her head. “...Nedemus is the dog you sleep with, yes?
The worgen I used to sleep with.” Avehi corrected, quickly. “I've found--”
She cut short, before shaking her head. That wasn’t important.
"... That's another story." she dismissed the thought. “But... this relic... it's empowering, yes? And... he gave it to me, for safe keeping.”
“You gave to Mierne, then?” Sinafay began guessing once more.
“No, no... I…” Avehi frowned, shoulder slumping. “I used it. I went to the Isles... I killed... so many Naga…”
The icy blue flames of her eyes flickered excitedly at the recollection. Despite the repercussions… she enjoyed doing that. Sinafay noticed - her own tail flickered a bit, in concern… but she listened on nonetheless.
“The rest ran away... so I left. I hid the relic, and thought nothing of it.” Avehi continued, before shaking her head. “But they came back. In force."
“Oh.” Sinafay frowned, as she pieced the rest together, slowly. “--Oooh… I see.”
“She... fought them off as well as she could, I'm sure, but…” Avehi nodded slowly, looking out across Nazjatar. “They took her. Down here, somewhere."
“Well…” Sinafay was at a loss for any response - and probably should’ve kept it that way. “At least I know I am not the only one who can fuck things up.”
“--This isn't the same.” Avehi snapped. “Her life is at risk.”
"Bah.” Sinafay smiled, confidently. “I have faith you and Argo can rescue her."
“That…” Avehi's stern expression softened. “... is appreciated, actually. Thank you. So far, I've just been so focused on it, worrying if I'm up to the task. Argonas has been no help with that, either. We're constantly bickering... I don't know what you see in him, frankly.”
She paused a moment, then shrugged. She remembered now.
"Besides his body."
“He is honorable, patient and loyal.” Sinafay said, matter-of-factly. “He is amazing to fight alongside with in battle. A great teacher…”
Her eyes welled up…
"...And he is willing to stay with me through this..."
“Hmph. Of course he is.” the Death Knight huffed. “He loves you.”
“We do not love each other.” Sinafay corrected. “That is for certain. He loves his dead wife. And I…”
Sinafay trailed off, emotions building up. Avehi caught notice of it, and glanced sidelong to her friend - brow askew.
“You what?"
No words came out… only tears. Sinafay began sobbing heavily, tears glistening in the illumination of her eyes as they streamed down those pale cheekbones of hers. Avehi fidgeted uncomfortably. This was the part of friendships she hated. Even in life, she was never very skilled at comforting people. Except men, in only one or two certain ways, but… that wouldn’t help her here. She stepped closer to Sinafay, and gave a single, gentle tap on her plated pauldron. Nailed it.
“Tch... there, there…” she said, mustering all the caring tone she could. “This is... just hormones, yes? Flaring up your emotions…”
“--I had love! I had it... and and... and he left me!” Sinafay exploded in lamentation.
"What?” Avehi blinked. “What're you talking about?"
Sinafay removed her gauntlets and started wiping the tears from her eyes - a folly task, at this point, as more and more tears streamed down her face.
"On Draenor... we fell in love... on Draenor... and now it is over... and I am alone...." she sobbed. “He... he travelled time and space to come rescue me... brought me here. We were supposed to be together... when the war ended... together in Pandaria... but then he found out about the baby…”
Avehi blinked again! She shook her head, brow furrowed in confusion. Nothing Sinafay said was making sense. She’d never mentioned a lover before. Definitely not one that saved her from captivity.
"Wait... I thought you said some Orc saved you from Dra--" she stopped, as it clicked. “...enor…”
Sinafay winced, sobbing slowing only slightly as she looked up at Avehi with eyes wide. She’d let it slip, inadvertently…
"Please, do not tell Argonas.... do not tell anyone..."
“You're in love... with…” Avehi spoke lowly. “An Orc.”
Sinafay hesitated, but nodded after a moment. It was too late, now.
“... His name is Grakkar.”
Avehi found herself at a loss for words. Of all the things she’d expected to hear, that certainly wasn’t one of them! She remembered in her youth, before the Orcs and Draenei were at odds with one another, a few of her friends would talk about them fondly. It was something of a taboo back then too, of course, but that made it all the more alluring. But even back then, Avehi never saw the appeal. Now… even less so. She had no idea what to say. No idea how to react. Sinafay seriously went from being enamored with a strong and handsome - albeit conceited and arrogant - Draenei Vindicator… to falling in love with some savage orc mongrel? Her lip snarled in disgust, as she shook her head.
“... Gross.”
Sinafay growled. She expected a response like that was possible, but had hoped Avehi would at least have the decency to keep it to herself in a moment like this! She turned and faced Avehi - face contorted into a tear-glazed scowl!
"Can you NOT right now?!"
“--I'm sorry! I find out my friend is in love with an orc, and I'm not allowed to comment?” the Death Knight raised her hands, defensively.
She shook her head, and sighed - Again, Sinafay was right. This wasn’t the time. She had disclosed something personal to her, just as she’d done earlier about Mierne. Avehi knew she could hold her tongue, and let her friend vent. She looked at Sinafay, somewhat apologetically.
"--Fine, fine, not the time..." she conceded, as she brought a finger to her lips in a hushing gesture. "Your secret's safe with me."
Sinafay grumbled lowly, agitated and hormonal. Avehi’s poor response already sank in, setting the Lightforged into a sour mood. She huffed at the Death Knight.
“...You fuck dead worgen, but an Orc is where you draw the line?!” she muttered.
Avehi’s tail flickered, eyes narrowing. Restraint became all that much harder to keep.
“--That's way different, first of all…” she began…
Sinafay simply stared at Avehi.
"Dead. Worgen."
Again, the Death Knight’s tail flickered. She clenched her plated fists, air around her growing cold.
“I am dead. You may have noticed.” she replied, through grit teeth. “So don't say 'dead' like it's some horrible trait. I already know. Thanks.”
She pointed a frosted finger at Sinafay, accusingly, as she leaned in.
“Second - at least worgen are sentient, allied creatures. Orcs are simple savages! It's like saying you fell in love with a Naga!” she exclaimed. “Or a Murloc!”
That was too far. Sinafay snapped. She gave up EVERYTHING defending the Orcs, keeping them from her people’s oppressive overreach! For Avehi to refer to them as anything less than equal was a grievous affront! She reached down, grabbed one of the gauntlets she’d removed, and threw it with force at Avehi’s face!
"Do NOT call them that!"
Avehi didn’t flinch - the gauntlet struck true, slapping the undead Vindicator across her icy face, before it fell harmlessly to the ground at her hooves. Her fists clenched, eyes flaring - then…
“... Kill her…”
Avehi blinked. She’d never heard the Hunger’s voice so clearly in her mind before. It was jarring, far more so than the actual strike Sinafay had landed on her. She felt like she did in days long past… those days interrogating Scarlet Crusaders, or striking down Argent footmen.
She felt like a monster.
Her tail began to intermittently flicker, to and fro in no pattern or rhythm. Her expression hid it all - the shock, the confusion, the shame… she simply shook her head, turning away from Sinafay.
“... I don't have time for this.” she muttered. “You're hormonal. And... whatever he is... you loved him, and he dumped you. I know that can't be easy.”
Sinafay looked confused, and disappointed. Clearly, she was ready for some manner of retaliation. But… not that. She reached down as Avehi stepped away, and picked up her gauntlet. With a snarl, she backed up to the ledge once more, and sat upon the low wall beside the pillar. She was fuming… and now had no outlet for it.
"Brood about it somewhere safe.” Avehi advised, voice level and impassive as if reading instructions aloud. “Get home as soon as you can. I'll send Argonas your way, to cheer you up."
‘Clearly I can’t...’ she thought to herself.
Sinafay just shook her head in silence, going about wiping fresh tears from her face. She had nothing more to say to Avehi. And the feeling was mutual. Avehi strode off without another word. She had other business here, anyway...
~*~
((Adapted RP logs between myself and @kidcatgemini / @sinafay-the-defiant, @sinafay1, and @miernethepersevering belong to her. @sylaess & @nedemus for mention))
The firelight glinted wetly off the edge of her saber.
Her eyes darted up the length of it, back up at Mattanis. The prick. She couldn’t swallow. Her chest was heaving, but nothing came of it but sharp bursts of pain. He’d missed her spine but got her right beneath the jaw. Blood drooled down her chest.
It wasn’t something she’d walk away from. The knowledge was firm and clear.
“I give you to him. A worthy sacrifice. May he see your treachery!”
His voice bawled in perfectly clear common.
A very large part of her wanted to spout something witty and cutting off, but again. That damn blade rendered that idea null.
She was dying.
The hot wetness sludged its way down her neck. Now why did you turn your back on him? You knew. This wasn’t a surprise. Do you want to die? A taste of rest...?
He chanted on, trying to invoke the master. Something she’d learned. You didn’t just invoke him; he knew what was going on and deigned to visit as he wished. Chanting became incoherent. It was hazy at best. Hard to focus her eyes, let alone unravel the blurry words of fervor falling over her. Sight faded to shadows. Shadows to shapes, shapes faded to...
Shit, this was really happening. A cold sweat clutched her.
---
She rolled over and--thump--vomited heavily. There wasn’t anything to bring up but acrid bile. A hand on her shoulder. A bin shoved roughly into her hands.
It took her a good while to recover enough to blink back tears from her stinging eyes.
Confusion made her head swim.
Destarion gave her a thin smile, settling above her on the bed. She was on the floor.
“So, you died.”
“Is this real?” Her voice was hoarse. Like she’d been screaming for hours. Gravel sounded better. And boy, it hurt. Everything lit up at once.
“Unfortunately for you, I think.”
Sylaess let her head back down to the floorboards. It cost too much to look around, so she screwed her eyes shut. She smelled blood. Gore. Sea water.
“You were brought back by an Anchorite, no less. Fascinating.” The insulting drawl. Soft over hard, ignorant tone. Not intentionally mean, just bored. Like this had happened several times. His deep purple skin was coarse and scaled, those fel-flame eyes burning behind the simple linen wrap he used. Dark violet-black hair rested atop his head in a messy bun framed by those long demonic horns. Destarion was no picture of comfort, surely, but he was better than anything she’d seen in... how long had it been? It didn’t matter, really.
Her stomach churned again, and she heaved weakly into the bucket he’d thrust into her hands. Let her forehead rest on the edge of it. Every single nerve was misfiring it seemed. It felt like withdrawal, and a serious case of whooped-ass.
“--Where’s.. Hnn.” Oh, gods. Why couldn’t she just stay dead? What a horrifying journey. Disjointed memories. “Sword.”
Their relationship wasn’t really one of caring. It was built on a temporary mutual interest, and in so, she was honestly shocked that he was here at all.
“I’m not really in the know of how to help you, for clarity’s sake.”
Hands hauled her up by the shoulders. Nothing particularly gentle. Enough that she was sitting upright against the bed, head lolling bonelessly. The worn leather scabbards were pressed into her hands. She clutched them like a lifeline. Heard the demon hunter give a small sigh.
“There’s no way I made it through.” Again, the thin gravel-voice.
“Is that more of a wish you hadn’t? I’m more inclined to believe it, if so.” She heard him shift on the bed. Felt him watching her like a strange insect on the floor. Alien. It was a long moment of silence before he spoke again. She could hear the faint sounds of the city outside the walls. “You need to get help. Acherian help. I doubt there’s anything that can be done for you here.”
“...Gods no.”
The flinch was reflexive and it sent her swords sliding down her lap to thump dully onto the floor. The room spun violently. She hissed a breath between her teeth, hating how even without tone in her voice, her words were almost a whine. Get your shit together, Syl. You’re back, but you’re losing what was done. You’re dying. More like returning to undeath. Between the hunger and the soul deep pain, she wasn’t sure what was real. But she was going to cling to this reality while she could.
“Another, here.” the voice seemed to come from somewhere over head. “Hmph. The Light will shine in any shadow.”
She didn’t recognize the language. Not at first. Another puzzle? N’zoth picked the best tormentors, after all. But it wasn’t demon-speech. No. It reminded her of...
Argonas? No. Avehi? Yes? No! Draenic!
The thought bubbled along haphazardly. Sudden Light burned echoes into her eyes. She’d resigned herself to this fate. Being here in Ny'alotha. She wondered if this was another painful game that they were going to play.
Right until the floor came up to cuff her across the nose. Felt it shatter under her weight. A groan escaped as she pushed herself up onto her forearms. She’d been devout once, and the phrases came to mind, but it felt so wrong. So, so wrong.
“Hey, elf.” The common was thickly accented. “Time to get moving. You’re one of those undead, right?” Male. Not the first speaker.
“Just get her on her feet.” Impatient. “No one has time to wait in this foul place. It begins to collapse. We can offer a cleanse as we exit.”
Collapse? Sylaess blinked stupidly. Collapse? She stared straight into the pristine white face with golden eyes. The mane of white hair floating about her horns made her think of some strange halo, but the expression was cold and unforgiving. Syl didn’t blame her.
There was intense pressure on her jaw. She tossed her head but couldn’t get rid of it.
“There you are. Welcome back.”
Destarion’s faux nobility drawl. She blinked a few times, trying to make heads or tails of it. Reality wasn’t what it should be anymore. It was terrifying. He had her by the jaw, holding her head still. Firm, but not cruel.
“You keep seizing. You. Need. To. Go. Back.”
He let her go, standing up from his crouch. Her chest was tight with fear at the thought of Acherus, but she couldn’t recall why. She watched him pour a short glass of... liquor. Collected herself enough to roll and press off of the floor. Rising with care. Everything was wavering like a candle flame. Found herself gripping her scabbards like they were a safety blanket.
The demon hunter simply frowned at her from across the room. He was here, but she didn’t know why. There was no love between them, and she certainly had lost her usefulness. It wasn’t caring, which was fine. That would have made it awkward. More awkward.
Damn it all, he was right.
Cold sweat slicked her forehead again. Oh no.
Caught sight of his eye-roll behind his blindfold. Fucking spare me! Drummed up the power to call it. To rip open a death gate. The pressure felt like her veins were going to explode with the force of dragging up enough magic.
It sputtered before her and went out like a limp dick. Frustration reared up in her in a strangled, close-mouthed noise. Her legs jellied and she sat on the bed hard.
“Shit.” She breathed the word out and let herself fall back on the mattress, swords clattering on her chest. No armor. Huh. Somehow that felt more naked than being without clothes. “I don’t have a plan for this.”
“Evidently.”
“I need... “ Say it. Say it you fucking tool. You could’ve let Argonas give you your stupid absolution, but no. “I need another Knight. To get to Acherus.” Or to finish the fucking slow ass process of undeath.
Not far away from where she was, leaning against the railing as he looked out onto the ocean was Nedemus. Inner conflict wore on him as he watched, one of his long nails grinding gently against the wood as he sighed.
It honestly took more effort than she was willing to account for to get herself out onto the boardwalk. One step at a time. She stumbled unsteadily out of the rented room and onto the boardwalk. The sea breeze smacked into her face wetly, less of a smell, more of an assault.
What a fucking mess.
Eyes blurry, she made it to the railing. Hooray. Holding herself upright and looking better than she felt at least. Destarion sighed and watched for a minute before slipping away in the crowd. Shook his head.
The nearness of other people was abrasive. She gripped the railing like the world had turned upside down.
“--Ned?” It startled her that she knew his name.
He blinked upon hearing his name, the worgen turning his head towards the source. Before him stood… “... Sylaess? It’s been…” He blinked once more, giving her another lookover. She looked… alive? At least as alive as they were in their states. “Are you alright?”
Thoughts tumbled over each other in a fight for freedom from her mouth. She ended up saying nothing for a long moment, trying to compute what weird luck this was. Shook her head a bit.
“No.”
A breath in slowly. Held gently. “Are you?”
He narrowed his eyes a bit in worry, pushing himself off the railing as he stepped towards her. “I’m fine, don’t worry about that… What’s wrong?” He asked her, slow in his approach.
“I...” How to explain? Made the worst decision in her miserable unlife, twice? Good try. “Need to get to a rune forge. Acherus.” Or somewhere. She steadied herself, holding her ground. It was hard enough to have her gaze hold his what with the world twisting, but it was getting easier. Small battles.
He watched her for a moment, before nodding softly, turning his head away and holding up his hand to the open area beside them, the dark energy forming a gate before him. His hand lowered, gaze turning once more towards her as he offered a hand. “What happened to you?”
“...I’m a magnificent idiot.” She smiled bleakly. With her gravelly, ruined voice it didn’t really stick. Shook her head and nearly tumbled for it. Oh dear. “Need to fix my blades.” She stared at his hand a moment before gripping it. Couldn’t help but feel the dread of returning to Acherus after all this bloody time, but it had to be something. Anything to anchor herself from this freefall.
“Thank you.” Softly spoken.
He moved in close, helping to catch her as he noticed her struggling, keeping an arm around her as he escorted her to the gate, moving slow and careful. “Aren’t we all.” He said softly, with a chuckle, before shaking his head. “It’s… No problem. I’ll help you get to the forges… Soon as I Remember where they are.”
He stepped through the gate, traveling the pair through and into the dark halls of Acherus. He glanced around, his ear flicking a bit as he tried to remember...
It didn’t go well. One minute she was grateful for his support, the next, she was a boneless sack of skin being held up through a portal. Good times, good times.
Wading back into consciousness was very much like being a tiny little rowboat out on the great ocean. Half full of water. She flinched hard, stumbling and throwing an arm up over her face, but her leg went sliding out from under her. What a mess.
It didn’t take long for Ned to grunt a bit, scooping his arms underneath her legs and hoisting her in his arms, bridal style. He walked through the halls, ignoring the glances from the other death knights as he made his way towards the forges. “You still have your blades?”
“Yeah.” She spoke mutedly, trying to figure herself out again. Sure enough, they were in their scabbards, strapped to her back. There wasn’t room for dignity anymore. Not in her condition. Ny’alotha still clung to her mind like an infestation of worms.
Blades. Right. One was salvageable. Enough to get her by. So she hoped. It had cracked at some point, near the hilt but not all the way through. Trusting the master rune forger could be of use. She shuddered, remembering the second one.
He gave a soft nod as they arrived to the forge, Ned bringing her in close as he helped her to stand - keeping his arm around her for support.
Okay, stand. Honestly. Stand. Drag up what’s left of yourself and get this done. Sylaess ended up leaning on him a fair bit. As if she hadn’t just been carried in like some waif. Ignoring that fact, she gripped his arm a moment. Took a small breath and steadied up. “I can’t thank you for this.”
