Hesitant footsteps against sodden soil carried her closer to the reconstruction of her childhood home. Everything from the outside appeared precisely as she remembered; the weathering of the boards, the cracked stepping stone three away from the door, even the broken shutter on the front window.
Fingers curled around the iron door handle, breath catching in her throat as thoughts raced. The lack of a thundering pulse in her ears sent an eerie chill down the spine as eyes closed. Swallowing a mouthful of air, she pulled on the door. The sound of the lock catching and the wooden barrier refused to budge made her heart sink.
Anger and annoyance soon swept over her, yanking the door several more times before both fists slammed against the dense wood. A shrilling scream let out as she repeated beat against the unyielding barrier, her moment of rage interrupted by the chimes of the bell tower. Stepping back from the door, her gaze shot upward to where the cathedral hung in the distance above her head, thirty minutes left.
“I don’t understand!” She cried out to nobody but the surrounding forest. “What am I supposed to do!”
A sudden gust of wind sucked the air from her lunger, arms lifting to shield her face from the leaves caught in the gale. The roaring sound of air muffled distant whispers again, leaving her to only make out two words. ‘Pressure rising.’
As the air still once more, Kat’s attention shifted to the few leaves that fluttered to the ground, quickly noticing the trail they seemed to leave, leading around the corner. Skeptical, she cautiously followed, rounding the side of the house to find the path ending at the cellar door.
Boots scuffled the stones in front of the bilco door as she came to a halt, looking over the weathered boards that separated her from the cellar. Above the wrought iron pulls an image of two hands, one over the other, holding roses was engraved into the surface of the doors. The words ‘as above; so below’ accompany the ominous image, both of which never existed in her childhood.
Kneeling down, she ran fingertips over the engraving, a pit in her stomach churring in unease as the sensation to throw the doors open seemed to overwhelm. Casting her eyes upward again, she found a star-filled sky, for the first time in a long while the non-euclidean world seemed to flatten. Giving in to the ethereal urge, she jerked the cellar doors open, peering down the narrow stone stairway, the musty scent assaulting her senses.
Out of sight, somewhere in the cellar, there was a source of light.
With a steady, calming exhale, Kat rose to her feet and began her slow descent, hands trailing along the stone walls on either side for stability, not trusting that the world wouldn’t attempt to turn over or shift beneath her feet. For once, it appeared to remain as it was, as she reached the bottom of the steps without interruption. Instead of the dark and damp cellar, she found an open cabin space of a ship.
Eyebrows creased in confusion, glancing back over her shoulder to find the door at the top of the stairs shut. The sounds of the sea lapping against the sides of the vessel pulled her attention to the doorway across the empty cabin, and an untrusting hum rattled at the back of her throat. Stepping closer, she scanned the open deck of the ship, a woman standing on the far end, dressed in admiralty attire, hands collected behind the back, and onyx hair confined to a bun.
Stiffening, a second chill raced down Kat’s spine, a single word hanging from her lips as she spoke beneath her breath. “Fuck...”
A deep breath was held for a long moment before a slow exhale. Heels of the boots clicking quietly upon the deck as full strides closed the distance between them, and Kat slid up to the rail beside the other, leaving a respectable few feet in the middle. Silence lingered as both women stared off over the endless ocean, the horizon stretching on for as far as the eyes could see.
“I did not expect to find you of all people here.” Kat finally broke the silence, keeping her gaze forward.
“And we never expected you to die, yet here you are. Survived Lordaeron, but the desert was your undoing.” Alexa’s response, simple as it was, still struck a chord.
“That what you’re here for? To chastise me on more mistakes, or am I relive the hell hole you pulled me from a year ago?”
“No.” The single syllable hung in the air between for what felt like an eternity before the Admiral continued, those Persian blues shifting to pin the Director where she stood. “Who will tell your story once you are gone?”
“W- What?” Caught off guard and confused, Kat blinked rapidly, daring to let their eyes meet.
“How will you be remembered? The legacy you’ll leave behind, the lives you’ve touched over the years.” As Alexa spoke, Kat’s eyes shifted on the floor below. “Will it be the woman who rose above her challenges, her burdens, and fought to protect the innocent and our way of life? Or as the pragmatic, egotistical, and power abusing mistake who stepped on more people than she would ever admit to?”
With a scoff, Kat shook her head, looking back to the water. “Doesn’t matter.”
“If that were true, I wouldn’t be here right now.” Quick to point out, Alexa pivoted to address the Director adequately. “Every time you are confronted, or someone asks what you stand for, you equivocate the response, to obfuscate the truth. A silver tongue performing linguistic gymnastics to guide the conversation off-topic. When pressed further, you turn hostile and ambiguous.”
A defeated sigh caught in the throat as Kat leaned onto the railing, hanging her head and staring down into the dark, endless depths of the sea. “I’ll be a villain in most stories. I was never the hero to some; that was always a facade. Another mask I wore to get what I needed.” The admittance came just over a whisper. It made sense now, as the Admiral was one of the only other military officials she ever, truly, respected.
“You thought you could control who lives and dies, but that power was always beyond your reach.” Alexa’s stoic tone held true. “We don’t get to control who tells our story, but you’ve left behind a twisted web of lies. In your absence, they will pick it apart, slowly but surely, and every dark secret will come to light.”
“Guess there’s nothing I can do about that now. Let them poke and prod then, find the truth. They can bury me face down just to kiss my ass.”
Blue eyes shut as the Admiral’s head slowly shook at Kat’s response, the disappointment nearly tangible in the eerily still air.
“Yeah, I know...” Kat lamented. “That’s not the point.”
“Still so quick to anger.” Eyes peeled open to focus on the Director again. “That’s all people will see. Temper and vitriol. A defensive mechanism to wear your opinion on your sleeve, to distract people from seeing the real you but handing ammunition to your enemies so freely. Just once, you should consider how others will perceive you.”
“Doesn’t do me any good in here.” Kat snorted indignantly, checking the pocket watch to find only ten minutes remaining until it struck twelve. “Should have just left me in the fight pit. Killing is all I’m good for, it turns out.”
“It would have been a waste to leave you there, like that.”
A faint smile touched the corner of Kat’s lips, a single stifled chuckle vibrating behind the curled features. Returning the watch to her pocket, she turned to address the Admiral eye to eye again, pausing with a held breath as she found the deck beside her empty.
“Alexa?” She asked aloud, eyes sweeping over the open space. Air hitching in her throat as she spotted the wooden coffin beside the center mast, an Alliance banner draped over the top from end to end. The Admirals surname engraved on the plague on the side.
Hands collected together over her mouth as it hung agape. Even if this should have been expected from this purgatory, it still brought pain from the heart. “No...” Kat whimpered into the fingers as tears welled.
Without hesitation, she burst into a sprint, making it two steps towards the coffin before the wooden boards cracked and gave out, sending her tumbling to the lower deck. Eyes struggled to adjust to the change in lighting as she collided with the broken boards, the searing pain of impalement jolting out from her core as the fall came to a sudden halt. The first instinct was to scream in pain as hands collected around the sharpened broken board, attempting to free herself or at least prevent falling further upon it.
Until the struggle abruptly ended, and she found herself surrounded in a cold, vast nothingness. The pressure of the vacuum-like space forcing the air from her body and squeezing from the inside out.
(Following [Preparations], and subsequent sub posts.)
One after another, spaced evenly apart, Kat swung the dagger in wide sweeping arcs. She alternated from Light to Shadow to light again as the energy pulsated from the blade and cleaved the target dummies in two. A handful of the trees behind her home were scared, collateral from the training over the last week of experimenting with various sources of power and combinations, searching for the ideal equilibrium.
Letting the dagger rest at her side Kat pushed the sweaty raven hairs back out of her face, panting as the three-hour-long session came to pause. She plucked the waterskin from the windowsill and inhaled the contents, wiping away the beads of water from her lips with the back of her just as she heard the muttered 'fuck' from within the dagger.
"Three too much?" Kat asked, though hardly concerned. "Are you actually touching the energies, or do they flow through you? I'm not entirely sure how things work for you in there."
"Everything in here is me. Nothing just flows through. It looks like a place, but it's all me. Three is manageable. The Light just hurts."
"Well, I have to alternate," Kat stated, inspecting the damage to the dummies from afar. "I remember the pain. You get used to it."
With a soft thump, the empty water skin dropped to the wooden bench where a few other supplies were sitting. Nimble fingertips found the Azerite crystal next, pulling the stone into the palm as she siphoned off the raw energy to recuperate her strength. The numbing sensation that washed over her mind made her nearly miss Alyssa's next statement.
"It's not the alternation. It's my nature. It repels the Light. I'll get used to it. Keep going."
"No, that's enough of that for now. We found a flow and decent control point." Kat said as she turned to face the clearing, her left-hand coalescing with Void as she reaches out to tear a small hole in the plane of existence.
Pain search from the tips of her fingers to the left shoulder, her body was fighting against the excessive use of the dark magic. Kat grit her teeth and clenched her jaw as the air split open with a tiny portal, a tear into the void. Setting her gaze on the darkness beyond, she uttered a select verse beneath her breath.
"Are you going to tell me why we're doing this training yet?" Alyssa asked again. She did every day but never got an answer.
"This is the endgame." Kat's cryptic monotone offered little to go on as she stared into the vast nothingness as the repulsive voidling lurched itself free from the portal. Her gaze was cast down to the dagger in her hand as the creature gurgled and crawled about. "What did it feel like when I stabbed the Faceless and K'thir?"
"Chaotic. I lost myself for a moment both times...it felt like a moment, could have been longer. N'zoth spoke to me, and I saw the city." Alyssa's answer came with a cautious form of curiosity.
"Mmm, well, N'zoth is dead now, so that shouldn't be a problem." With a shrug, the blade spun around in her hand, gripping the handle and plunging the dagger into the voidling. The engravings upon the blade shift from teal to purple in the blink of an eye, and the shambling creature shriek out in what one could assume to be pain as its body turned to dust.
Running a fingertip across the glowing floral engravings Kat could feel the raw energy of the voidling's life force resonating from the blade, as minor as it was.
"How do you feel?" She probed, subtly searching for signs of danger. Unsure what to expect when directly feeding the woman's soul with the essence of the Void.
After a short and suspenseful pause, Alyssa gurgled her response."Bwixki... amala zal qulllll."
Kat's eye widened, threatening to nearly fall out of her skull as her gut twisted, and her mind began to panic. "I think not," she stated forcefully, tightening her grip on the blades handle to siphon off the power.
"I'm just fucking with you," Alyssa revealed with a mirthful tone. "It's painful but manageable."
Kat's widened eyes immediately narrowed into a severe squint as she stared at the blade's engravings as if the woman within could physically see the amount of annoyance that radiated off her. With her lips pursed to hide the faint snarl of the upper lip, she looked up to the tear in the Void again, reaching out with another uttered phrase. The second creature that was called forth leaped from the portal, a void spawn this time. One she had no control over as it charged at Kat with its bodyless form.
"Well, since you're having so much fun." She spoke in spite as the dagger was driven into the spawns would-be heart, shouting away the pain with her overhead attack.
Just as before, the process repeated, and the void spawn cried out as it's form drained of color until it vanished from sight. The dagger itself was glowing brightly from the engravings and pummel. The deep purple hue flicked off the blade in whisps. As Kat inspected the weapon, she snapped out of her blind rage, knitting brows together in a brief moment of concern.
"Still good in there?"
"Yes," Alyssa answered in a strained voice, "Won't be able to hold this for very long..."
Wanting to avoid an explosion, Kat did not hesitate to siphon off the energy from the dagger. The sheer amount set her soul on fire, and the bracers constricted against her wrists, and they struggled to contain the power. For a moment, her head was foggy, but she regained footing and forced the energy back over the blade with a broad horizontal sweep—the resulting wave of destructing cleaving down several trees and shearing the boulder in the back.
"That's enough for today." Kat conceded, doubling over to plant her palms on the knees, gasping for breath and reeling from the rapid absorption and discharge. Her mind jumped from one thought to the next, concerned that if this resulted from a simple voidling and minor void spawn, then cutting a lesser void lord would be catastrophic.
"You said that ten minutes ago and then stuck me into a void creature." Alyssa sounded doubtful.
"Would you prefer I stick you in the wall? Again?" There was no sense of jest in Kat's tone this time as she fell back onto the bench.
"Well, that doesn't feel like anything. It's just boring," Alyssa said, pausing for a moment before reaching out again. "I had a question, though."
Kat's eyes rolled. "You often do."
"I keep your mind active," Alyssa replies sardonically. "It's about our link, less question more observation. Something about it is different than it was with Riley."
"How so?" Kat entertained the query for now as she leaned back against the cabin wall. Odell slunk forward from the treeline to check on her condition. The huff of disapproval from the beast had been expected.
"It became clear that I could only see Riley's soul when she had the dagger in hand. I can see yours with almost any kind of proximity."
Kat shook her head a bit as she reached out to run her fingers through the massive fox's fur. Even though Alyssa could not see it, she made an expression that showed she was not at all surprised. "And this surprises you?"
"Yes. You sound like you expected this?"
"Well, I don't think Riley is as magically inclined as you and I, if at all for that matter." Unsure of how accurate her statement was, Kat, glanced up at the broken trees, shelving the thought for another time.
"Did you not expect this? I thought you were supposed to be educated in soul related magics? Our emotional entanglement strengthens the link, as you call it. That's one theory. The other, and most probable, is that it is because I made you, in a sense." Kat pauses for only a second before rushing into an explanation to avoid lingering on that subject.
"You can't just stick a soul into an inanimate object on a whim, not without preparations and conditioning the vessel first. I conducted a small ritual while binding your soul to the blade. There was, of course, a cost. There always is. Physically many see it as just blood, but it's more than that on a deeper level; it's the life force. Mogu texts referred to it as anima, which they used to power golems. The phrase 'I put blood, sweat, and tears' into this dagger is much more literal in this sense. In a way, there is part of me in you, in there. So I would expect the connection to be healthier." "In my hand, the sheath on my thigh, or even just a few inches away on the desk. I can feel and hear you. More than a few inches, and there is nothing."
Fingers scrunched up a few times in Odell's fur before Kat pushed to her feet, allowing a moment of silence for Alyssa to process all the information given as she collected the few things from the bench to head inside.
"I've gotten very good at blocking out the sounds of souls in soul stones, or I'd have gone mad. Maybe I tried to erase in my mind the fact that part of me was in each of them too. It's a sound theory, though. It would make a lot of sense."
"Short of blaming lack of magical inclination, that is." Kat pointed out as she promptly poured herself a glass of whiskey from the home bar.
"I didn't read magic in her soul."
"Well, case and point, then." The drink was knocked back with a single, fluid motion. "I'm sure she loved you poking around her soul."
"I told her what I saw. I didn't poke into it...much..." Alyssa stated dismissively.
Raven brows pushed together again as a second drink was poured. Kat wasn't surprised, but still a bit annoyed and sought a further explanation. "Much?"
"Once I knew more about who she was, I stopped. I had no idea where I was or who she was when she picked up the dagger. I started probing because I needed to start figuring out how to take...her...o..." Alyssa trails off, clamming up. "Doesn't matter, I stopped looking."
"What?" Raw frustration overtook Kat's tone as she slammed the bottle of whiskey back onto the shelf.
"It doesn't matter now." Alyssa eluded.
Without realizing it, Kat's knuckles had gone white from the fist she was clenching in anger. "How to, what, exactly?" Though she knew where Alyssa was going with the thought, she continued to push for an admittance.
"I was considering any possible option to save you, regardless of who got hands on the dagger." Alyssa continued to evade. "That's all. I didn't have to do anything dangerous since Riley found me."
With flared nostrils, Kat let out an agitated huff as she spat, "Right."
"I was just considering that I might be able to hijack a soul." Composedly, Alyssa yielded. "Better not to have to find out, though, right?"
With a clenched jaw, Kat's teeth felt as if they would shatter. The sheer thought and suggestion of her best friend being subject to such a thing made Kat's blood boil. "Mhmm," she hummed out in reply, knocking back another full glass before walking away, abandoning the dagger on the bartop for the rest of the afternoon.
(Immediately Following [Qwor wgah za kaaxth] & [Darkened Woods, Darkened Vale])
The ancient Pandaren spirit cried in agony as it’s essence drained into the dagger which stuck into the center of the incorporeal form. The last of its power flickering over the blade before vanishing completely, returning to the dimmed teal illumination. As the weapon spun in the palm and slipped back into its home at the Director’s thigh a familiar voice called out from behind.
“Hey!” The sound of approaching footsteps quickly followed.
Immediately Kat recognized the voice of Soriya, her head canting subtly to the side as a faint sense of dread welled in the throat. ‘Shit...’
"Shit?” Alyssa chimed in. “Are you okay?"
‘Just— unexpected company.’ Kat’s mind working to piece together exit strategies and fabricated justifications.
"I'm still drained. Be honest if things go bad, I'm trusting you to let me know if you need my power."
‘I'm hoping not. She's a...' Unexpectedly, she paused for a fleeting moment of uncertainty, searching for a word to describe the relationship before settling for something. ‘...friend.’
“Hey!!” Soriya repeated in an angrier tone, closer and moving quicker, “What do you think you’re doing?!”
Brows pushed together as a decision had been made, reaching into the dark magic once more, her body still strained from the earlier fight. In a slow blink of an eye the whites were drowned out in pitch black as the energy of the void began to course through her being, skin around the sockets cracking in hairlines with the dark color. ‘Going to attempt scaring her off.’
It was the hope Soriya could be convinced Kat fell to the corruption of the Vale, enough to make her flee to the safety of the Shrine. Alyssa’s silent disapproval of the continued use of the void was clear in their connection. Quickly Kat began to justify as she turned to face the oncoming monk.
‘It's just for appe—’
Cut off mid thought as Soriya connected with the Director, the momentum of her full sprint carrying over in the full body tackle. Teeth bared and a snarl escaped as her back slammed against the stones, wincing for a second before starting up at the young monk, finding the look of shock which stared back at her.
"No..." Soriya whispered in a low tone, hands trembling along the Director’s leather clad frame. "No.." She denied, louder, again, pushing herself to sit up, her look of shock dropping into disbelief. "No, no no... Kat... no... This isn't supposed to be real..."
For a single second Kat was confused, but it didn’t show as she stared blankly at the monk who sat up. Taking the opportunity herself to slip backwards and rise to a full stand again, looking down on Soriya as Alyssa inquired on the sudden interruption.
‘Tackled me. She definitely knows it's me now.’
"Should we kill her?"
‘No.’ The single word spoke clear and firm. ‘I— She's saying something about how 'This isn't supposed to be real'...’
The silent and empty stares between the monk and rogue continued. Soriya let out a whimper as a hand lifted to her chest, clenching at the armor. Elven features twisted as the emotional pain became more evident.
"I don't know anymore. It's hard to tell what is real... It got into my space. It changed it. I saw the sleeping city, it took over my woods.”
That fact was noted and stored away for later conversation, now was not the time to explore the levels of corruption either had been exposed to.
‘Fuck... I think she's going to cry. I don't know what the hell she's talking about, maybe I can slip off while she is busy with.....that.’
"You could try comforting her..." Alyssa ventures skeptically.
‘That would defeat the point—’ Her thought halted as Soriya suddenly stood up and moved closer, reaching out with a hand towards the cheek as she spoke up in a shaky whisper.
"What...What happened to you?"
‘Guess we'll up the ante then...’
Jerking away to one side Kat refused to allow the monk to touch her, the darkened gaze pinning the elven woman where she stood. Posture straightened and the bridge of her nose wrinkled as she gave the monk her fabricated answer, mirroring the same sentences that plagued the recesses of her mind.
"Ya' canno' fight th' inevitable, Soriya."
The monk pulled away as despair crept across her face, tears welling in the teal eyes and falling down across the cheeks. Blinking with a rattly breath before the tears were hastily wiped away, her expression shifted to defiance as she challenged.
“No. This isn't you. This isn't...-” Anger flashed on the monk’s face as she glanced to the defiled burial mound. "How is this inevitable?! What does that even mean! You're better than this! You're—”
"Look aroun' ya'!" Kat shouted, cutting Soriya off and sounding impatient. Arms gestured to either side, at the eyes and maws which had sprouted from the mountains. "Nothin' can halt the comin' age. Resistance is pointless, nothin' more than a thorn in the destinies' side." Spite laced the Director’s tone in her final words.
"And you'd rather be part of the problem rather than the solution?!" The monk’s retort had found its own fire.
"You would rather defile the graves of the Pandaren? The same ones that are fighting—once again—in their home. You'd rather live in a world where these things roam free?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Closing the gap Soriya swiftly gripped Kat's shoulders. "Kat... just... please. Please come with me. Let me help you through this."
Raven brows pushed together, as if confused by either Soriya's actions or words. Perhaps even both.
"Their souls are already forfeit!" Arms lifted between Sori's, spinning outward to break the hands from her shoulders before pushing against the elf who dug into her ground, refusing to be shoved away.
"This is the solution, salvation in acceptance. Yer eyes are still blind, ya've yet t'see the truth." The left hand coalesced with void. "Open yer eyes, Soriya, and see wot will come t'pass."
"You're not one of them! You're not a monster...!" An arm shot out to her side, as if motioning to the monsters of the Vale. "Kat, please... Please. This doesn't have to turn out like my dream. I don't want to fight you." Soriya pleaded as her voice progressively got smaller and smaller. Pathetically repeating, "Please." in an almost incoherent babble, "I can't let you do this. Just... please..."
"I've always been a monster!" Kat exclaimed, shoving a void-laced finger into the woman’s face. Something about that single sentence carried a weight, as if Kat truly believed that of herself.
With a heated huff the finger dropped and arms began to lift on either side. "So don't fight. Give up, leave this place to its fate. We are all nothin' but pawns in a larger game, Soriya. Don' be naive."
Feet began to move backwards, hoping to capitalize on the opportunity to flee as Soriya shrunk away again. Her ears drooped and the look of defeat sank in. Until the single whispered word, “no,” left her lips.
"I'm not naive. I'm not fucking stupid, Kat. I know you... I know you're not like this. That this is just some stupid corruption messing with you head. This isn't the woman I met up with every month since last spring just to spend a few hours with— This isn't you." Confident words came in a broken and strained throat that teetered on the verge of full blown tears.
Abruptly the monk lurched forward, both arms wrapping around the others upper torso, arms and all, to pull Kat into a tight embrace. "If you want to get rid of me you're going to have to stab me or something... I'm not letting go." She whispered into the rogue’s ear.
Those whispered words caused a sudden feeling of contradiction to surge through the Director. Gloved hands quickly tried to pry the elf off her, but the vice like hold of the monk refused to yield. With a low growl she responded with an ice cold whisper of her own. "Fine."
Metal against leather sounded as a knife was pulled from the belt, promptly flicking over in the palm to drive straight into Soriya's abdomen. The split second decision was precisely driven, angled to narrowly avoid vital organs. But that didn't stop her from twisting the knife, hemorrhaging the wound to add to the pain and spilling blood.
Hearing the gasp of air leave the monk regret quickly replaced the sense of contradiction and Kat shoved again. Successfully putting distance between them as she watch the elf stumble a few steps back, grasping at the hilt of the knife that protruded from her midsection. With a grunt of agony Soriya pulled the blade from her body and cast it to the side, calling out with a labored breath.
"If you want me to stop you're going to have to kill me. I...I won't. I'm not going to just... just leave you here! You're going to have to kill me Kat, because if you don't? If you don't I'm going to devote every waking moment to fucking up whatever plan you have for this place."
In a pained wobble the monk advanced a half step, one hand clutching the open wound and the other reaching for her waterskin that was tethered to the belt. The life giving water poured out onto the open wound, bloodied hand cupping as much of the diluted crimson mixture as it could, applying the gentle white light of chi. Sloppily the laceration began to pull itself closed, leaving behind a grotesque and raw sore that looked as if it could burst open at any moment.
"My plan?" Kat chuckled out, amused at the fact Soriya thought it was the Vale in which her intentions lied. Her gaze flicked to the side for a moment, spotting a thin tear in the void. "Fight if ya' must, Soriya. But nothing ya' do will change wot will come t'pass. Death will come fer ya' just as it did the monks behind ya'. Split open by the servants of N'zoth."
Lifting a hand to the left her fingers sparked with dark magic and the sliver tore open, the sound of vast nothingness that was the other side emanating from the newly formed portal. A beast of flesh lurching it's way to freedom from the space beyond, two more following promptly behind. It was a risky ruse, as the beasts would likely attack as much as they would the other, she would need to make an exit soon.
"Is that who you serve now?" The monk had spat back in a thinly veiled attempt to goad the rogue. "The high and mighty Kat Hawke reduced to a faceless servant? That's how you want to be remembered?" Closing the gap that Kat perpetually put between them, again, the Sin'dorei wouldn't be denied. "I don't want to fight you, Kat, but you need help. You need—”
"Wot do I need?" Kat instantly snapped back, skipping over everything else that had been said. "You?"
The flesh beasts unfortunately dragged their way towards the corpses in the opposite direction, feasting on the remains in a morbid sight of tearing flesh and sinew.
“If you won’t go with me willingly..." Soriya cocked back a fist as she entered into a fighting stance, her legs wide and planted as her second hand came to defend her injury with a folded elbow.
"I'm no' some fuckin' pet project that needs savin'!" Kat lashed out as fists rose and shoulders squared, feet shifting into place as she stared the monk down.
Anger began to boil as she spoke inward towards the woman in the dagger. ‘Forget it, you were right.’
"I’m not sure I want to have been right in this case.” Alyssa’s response came tentatively. “About what?"
Soriya pulled back for her swing, a leg swept backward quickly, and just as it seemed like she were to throw that punch, it only continued back- her leg coming out instead in a sweeping strike of a kick aimed at Kat's midsection.
Reflexes hastened by the void that pulsed through her very core aided in the counter, hand snapping downward to the leg which kicked, fingers tightening around the ankle as it collided with her side. Taking the momentum into a full body pivot the opposite elbow dug into the back of the monk’s knee to send the elf to the ground.
Soriya repaid in kind, the duo familiar with each others fighting styles. Catching an elbow on the ground hips twisted quickly against the newfound leverage. Long legs had the advantage as a powerful kick shot upward at the Director’s skull. Predictable as it was, the speed at which it came had not been. A split second to make a decision Kat chose to simply evade. Releasing her hold on Soriya as she ducked backwards away from the foot, the monk carrying the momentum into a roll and putting distance between them.
"I wish it could be me, Kat. I really do. But we both know you won't let me close enough to actually help." Begrudgingly, Soriya admitted as she scramble to her feet once more. "Even if you need it. I can find someone to help you, even if it's not me. I can at least do that. Even if you hate me for it."
Anger surged again as Soriya hit a personal pain point, one Alyssa had been pushing against over the last few days. Kat spat out in the telepathic connection again, ‘I'll fucking kill her.’ Lycan rage started to cloud judgement.
Whether or not the warlock within the dagger responded was lost on the Director as she lunged forward towards the monk. The left arm swinging with a rolled shoulder, the left hook feigning at the last second. Instead the leather clad fist on her right snapped outward like a spring towards Soriya’s jaw.
But the monk knew better, shifting faintly with the feigned strike an elbow bent, forming a closed guard with one arm, lifting it with a small twist of the waist to block the incoming haymaker. Wasting no time Soriya took advantage of the closed distance capitalizing before her Kat could. Pulling back her arm before pushing it forward against the rogue’s center mass. Her training with chi empowered strikes allowed her to use a shorter distance for effective blows, and with that knowledge, she sent another two punches with alternating fists, working their way up Kat's torso, lightening quick in their inception as the telltale glow of chi coated the punishing blows.
With each of the chi infused hits making contact Kat staggered back, clenching the spot where Soriya's fists had connected. Anger and a primal rage now swept over her visage as a deep, guttural, and almost lycan growl grew in her throat. Just barely could she make out the warlock’s plea.
"Kat. Listen to my voice. Respond to me. You can control this. You are always in control, don't let this beat you."
‘No.’
The azerite crystal around her neck was depleted from the previous battle, forcing Kat to find other means of power as Soriya broke their unspoken barrier between physical fighting and unbridled assault.
Her left hand, still charred and burnt, rose above the head with a large step forward. Shadows sparked from the palm as coiled outward in a series of chains. Wielded like a whip as the arm swung around, a harsh downward swing cut off as it changed directions, slicing to the side with another abrupt change, an upward cut to ensnare the neck.
Unaccustomed to the unpredictable weapon, Soriya brazenly lifted her arm up to cover her face from the chain that threatened to smash it. Unaware, as that chain slapped against the side of her neck, it took her forearm along with its snare. With gritted teeth she struggled, the dark metallic grip threatening to strangle her regardless of what got in the way.
With a forceful downward tug accompanied by a pivot of the hips and one leg stretched back, Kat yanked the chain tight and Soriya buckled under the attack, forced down to one knee with a grunt forced through clenched teeth . The charred fist gripped the chain as shadows pulsated through the links, flaring in timed intervals as the Director discharged her energy through the length. Pained yelps rang out as the monk slammed her eyes shut in pain.
Kat's watched through a narrowed gaze as her opponent writhed in pain, the corner of her lips pulling it a sadistic grin. Her right hand reached across the hip for the dagger sheathed on the thigh, jerking free in one motion. The weapon twisted in her fingers before her grip tightened on the hilt of the faintly glowing dagger, blade pointing to the ground.
Suddenly Soriya’s free hand shot up, gripping the chain. From her crouched position, she took in one deep and filling breath before leaping up into the air, dazzling with a triple spin from just the ground as she unwound herself from the chain. Despite the fast and undoubtedly dizzying twirl, Soriya fell down toward the ground with her head and shoulders poised to crash first- and her position made a recovery unlikely. But in that fall the monk once again stunned with a precise kick to the end of the chain, sending the tip of it back toward the rogue.
With haste Kat tossed the chain aside, the length evaporating in a cloud of dark smoke, making Soriya’s display of acrobatic skills nothing more than a flashy show. A deep chuckle started to rumble from the Director’s core as the monk landed harshly, her footing failed and led to the woman’s head colliding with the earth. Leaving her dazed in a heap.
Slowly Kat began moving closer pitch black eyes staring down at the defeated elf. The dagger remained pointing downward at her side, the engravings on the blade began to grow a bit brighter. Her left hand shimmered once more with darkness and the length of shadowed chain coiled from hand to ground. Shorter this time but growing with each step, links at the end dragging along the stone with an eerie clank and rattle that accompanied the deep toned chuckle.
Abruptly she came to a halt as a sudden burst of pain raked over her very soul, Alyssa had interfered.
The area lit up as a pained scream was forced from Kat’s core, Light magic surged to the surface along her right side. The visage cracked and splintered with the warring energies, the chain vanished and fingers turned to tightly grip the skull. The sensation was overwhelming, fibers of her being felt as if they would shred. The pain nearly caused her to miss Soriya’s movement, barely making out the large orb of chi the monk had formed and flung in her direction.
Without much thought Kat takes a risky move, the excess energies forced over the dagger which hisses and steams in rebellion. For the second time Kat tests the strength of not only the dagger but the woman houses within, pushing boundaries and limits to dangerous levels.
In desperation the dagger swung out against the orb of chi, and in the fleeting moment Kat hoped the resulting explosion would snuff them all out of existence. Instead the orb deflected with a bright flash, rocketing upward into the mountain above. The explosion from the collision sent small debris raining down on the pair.
Exhausted, Kat glanced upward to see Soriya retreating. A small stone pelting the shoulder pulled her attention upward. The rocky ledges began to crumble and larger pieces broke free, the sounds of a landslide growing as their speed increased.
Gulping down a deep breath she slipped away in the opposite direction, her path swaying side to side as vision occasionally blurred. A faint pit of sorrow swelled in the stomach, wishing Soriya just hadn't appeared at all. For the time being it would be her last excursion to the Vale, her and Alyssa would need time to properly recover and heal.
Silence so deafening she couldn’t even hear her own heartbeat. Was there even a heart left to beat, a pulse to detect? Nothing but darkness stretched in all directions, thick and viscous with an ominous red hue it flooded the lungs and blacked out the eyes. Tumbling further into the void as she drowned, yet breath still came without a struggle. For a moment she wondered if this is what death felt like; an eternity of nothingness.
There was no concept of time here, how long she’d been under didn’t matter. Threads of her mind unraveled, memory after memory tainted and corrupted by the unseen entity within the deep dark. Each twisted vision opening old wounds like a knife in her heart and an icy pick to the brain. Friends turned to enemies, lovers to rivals, and victims of her blade returned to haunt the blood on her hands. It could have been hours, days, even weeks before the madness stopped and yet there was still guilt to be felt.
“Such a heavy burden you carry. Soon you will be free of it.” Whispers echoed in the darkness, repeating in rounds of various ranges. “Your awakening draws near.”
Her body twisted and jerked in unnatural motions as corruption took root, stretching the mind to the breaking point and shattering what memories remained. Every deal made in the dark, innocent lives taken, betrayals of those who trusted her and stolen documents for blackmail flashed before the eyes. Death after death, the look of betrayal on their faces, the blood spilling to the ground...it all felt real before one by one they were twisted into dark visions of promised power.
“Thief. Renegade. Murderer. Your crimes are terrible... numberless... glorious...” The whisper sounded as if it was praising her misguided actions, her self-serving path to power.
Pain surged pulse after pulse as the vain attempt to fight was made, desperately clinging to the few memories that remained. Years old now, before it all began, before becoming a widow and the self-loathing had overwhelmed her.
“Open your eyes.” The voice sounded more and more inviting with each syllable. “Let go...”
So she did. That final memory was released and the resistance came to a halt. The pain stopped as darkness claimed the remaining parts of her mind, a blissful numbness.
The black abyss parted as she continued to freefall, suspended in the air above the Waking City, Ny’alotha. The madness of this place was tangible as her descent came to an end upon an obsidian walkway, others of this twisted path to power stood around in silence. Taking a moment to get her bearings she found the leather gear replaced with the twisted armor she had seen in her visions, dark and menacing, reinforced with obsidian plates, a silent eye of observation housed on the chest and framed with bloodstained teeth.
Attention shifted upward as the small crowd broke, a handful of fallen agents, operatives and assassins stepping forward. The second part of her vision coming to pass. A half dozen of them in total, each lining up in silence. There was no need for vocal commands, a hivemind connection between them all sharing a numb sense of feeling and understanding.
Her corrupt gaze looked back at the city and massive husk in the far distance. Posture straightened with a faint incline of the head before feet began to move, a tear in the void opening at the end of the platform. Twisted agents followed close behind as they all stepped into the darkness once more to emerge seconds later in the sands of Uldum.
Looking down upon the oasis from the mountainside they watched as the forces of Azeroth overran Mar’at below and the Tahret Grounds across the valley. The Vir’naal Dam would be next, armies already colliding at either end. Forces of Azeroth splintered, moving to sack the Akenet Fields. A strategic bottleneck in the valley before it opened again on the paths leading to Neferest and Tol’vir.
Without a vocal order, each agent pulled cloaks of shadows over them before descending upon the writhing fields. The gifted daggers were drawn from the waist as each of them took their place behind corners and upon rooftops. It didn’t take long before Azeroth’s forces had entered the kill box, daggers and shadowy strikes flying in harmony.
Blood watered the twisted fields of fleshy horrors, heavier plated beheaders and executioners joining the fray as the skirmish carried on into the night. Enemies who weren’t killed on the spot were dragged away by the writhing horrors of the sky, devoured for their defiance in accepting N’Zoth’s gift or placed in the torment cells of Tol’vir until their eyes were opened.
The scent of blood was sweet like honey with each Horde or Alliance cut down by her blades. Holding these fields was the silent order, stalks of eyes and tendrils sprouting from the ground as if on command to bolster the defense. Push from here to the dam, defend the obelisk which held the doorway to the Waking City.
(Immediately following [Like Everything was Fine])
As the final airy breath seeped from Alyssa’s lungs Kat stared into the dead gaze of the woman beneath her, holding the blade deep within the body and pinned to the table as if expected the warlock to suddenly get up. But as the muscles went slack as the hazel eyes rolled up towards the ceiling the confirmation of death came. Lingering there a moment longer she peered into the lifeless visage, as if part of her was in disbelief while the other knew what came next.
Slowly the dagger pulled from the corpse until it was freed and set beside the body, crimson fluid continuing to seep onto the table and floor. The mess at the moment was of little concern, now the clock was ticking until the soul faded into a realm beyond easy reach.
“Og vormos...” She whispered to nobody.
A slow breath filled and emptied the Director’s lungs as she stood up, still refusing to peel her gaze from the woman she’d grown to love but never admitted. The free hand running hastily through the loose raven tresses, pushing them back into containment behind the shoulders as feet began to move, amber hues finally pulling away from the body.
Crossing the living space Kat quickly approached the hall which lead to the other rooms, stopping just where the wall cornered. Fingers pried the upper most piercing from the left ear, the silver loop opening on a hidden hinge for the removal. Circling the smooth surface with the thumb in a fleeting moment of contemplation before pressing the silver to a faint indentation on the wall, masked as a knot in the wood.
The chime of magic was faint, easy to miss to ears not enhanced by lycan affliction. The sound of cogs and pistons followed shortly after, the floorboards of the hallway beginning to shift. One by one they collapsed, turned, and receded in clockwork order, forming a staircase to the hidden lower level.
Blood stained leather soles speedily descended, braziers along the stone walls responding to her presence as the dark purple flames sparked to life within them. Bookcases lining each wall, a secreted library of forgotten and forbidden knowledge that was enough to rival that of Alyssa’s.
Kat’s path lead her straight to the massive cabinet along the far wall, the heavy wooden doors thrown open as hands greedily gathered reagents and crucibles, a single dark purple stone among them. Recalling everything that Saelkath had used years ago in the same ritual.
Returning to the main floor with haste the braziers went dark once more, the secret staircase folding to it’s original position as the silver loop was pulled from the indentation. The gathered materials were set upon the far end of the table, the warlock’s dagger and talon hastily shoved to the floor, objects to deal with later and the picnic basket moved to sit on a chair.
Alyssa’s body lifted fully onto the table next, the blood making it easy to slide the limp corpse to the center. Wild red locks coated in crimson fluid trailed to one side as the woman’s head was positioned at the end of the table where reagents were left.
“Ull vera skish.” The shath’yar was muttered beneath a heavy breath as Kat rounded the corner of the table and began lighting sticks of incense to place in meticulous order around the body. The spacing, placement, and quantity specific before she returned to the crucible and few herbs.
Bloodied hands crushed stems and leaves into the carved bone bowl, words of powered muttered in tongues beneath her breath as eyes washed over with a jet black tone, void of any details. The weapon used to slay the woman was picked up once more and dipped into the mixture of vegetation, coating the sticky surface.
As words continued to roll over the tongue the plumes of smoke from the incense shifted color, from a ghostly white to pale teal, the trails now wafting more like a dance than random flits.
With a turn of the blade she sliced the left palm open, leaving some of the other’s blood and crush herbs stuck to the wound, her own blood dripping like a dark ichor into the mixture. Squeezing a fist the life fluid poured quicker as if she was crushing a fruit, the contents of the bone bowl beginning to bubble with each muttered word. Shaking the slice hand to remove the last few drops the finger claimed the dark stone next, palming the smooth surface against the wound.
“Ilith agth maq oou...” Kat’s tone grew deeper as the stone dunked within the crucible, the dagger jutted outward through the air over the warlock’s lifeless body, hovering several inches above the head.
Hastily spoken tongue repeated incantations as the empty stone rotated within the bone bowl on it’s own accord. Pale wisps of smoke ceased their dance and began to twitch through the air like tendrils, grasping at the edges of the lifeless body, coaxing the dead woman’s soul from falling into a new realm.
The chanting volume grew louder and louder with each repeated phrase, the teal smoke anchors latching and pulsating, ensnaring the corpse in an ethereal web. Securing the soul in this plane of existence the dagger rotated clockwise in a sharp motion. With a sudden crack the magic rapidly expanded, knocking lose objects from nearby shelves, the raven strands of the Director whipping wildly as the gaze narrowed in struggle to remain open.
The anchors of the soul jumped to the weapon, the room feeling like a vacuum as the teal tendrils vanished within the dagger with haste. The Gilnean roses engraved on the hilt now holding a faint glow of the same color, the power of the soul now housed within tangible as it trembled within the Director’s grasp.
Kat stood in a dark and cold space of nothingness. The air felt heavy and the faintest of hums tingled in the back of her mind. Her gaze trailed across the empty horizon, spinning in place looking for something, anything, but all she found was darkness. Was she asleep or was she dead?
She stared out into the dark when the air shifted, feeling a presence appear behind her. Instinct took over as her mind instantly shifted to the defensive, spinning around on one leg only to freeze where she stood once her gaze fell on the figure before her.
Standing in a well worn trench coat with equally worn boots and pants, the man stared back with bright green eyes. Pinning the Director where she stood as muscular arms crossed over his chest. Kat found herself speechless for a moment, nearly choking on the single word she managed to get out.
“Dad?”
“Ya’ve come a lon’ way, Katanie. Look at ‘ow much ya’ve grow...an’ changed...”
She felt herself shatter, her mind racing in all directions. Was this real? How long had she waited for a moment like this, to speak to her father again? She swallowed hard and moved to take a step forward but halted, her father’s eyes narrowed with her motion.
“Dad, I-”
“Wot have ya’ become? Is this wot I raised ya’ to be?”
There was weight on her hands, glancing down to find them covered in blood that flowed endlessly to the ground even as she stepped back in shock.
“To take innocent lives? To do wot eva ya’ see fit fer yer own gains? How many lives are on yer hands, Katanie? How many families have ya’ ripped apart? How many minds have ya’ twisted?”
“I did wot I had to do...” She looked back up to her father, pained. “Just like ya’ did, fightin’ against Greymane and his wall, supportin’ Cro-”
Thomas stepped forward as his arms swung out and back to his sides. “I fought so we could survive, child! So ya’ could have a better future! A life without bein’ walled off! And now look at ya’!”
“Ya’ said ya’d come back!” Kat snapped. “But ya’ didn’, ya’ died fightin’ fer wot ya’ thought wus right! And now yer scoldin’ me fer doin’ the same.”
“And wot do ya’ think is right, huh? Yer way and only yer way? Ya’ make a mockery out of wot I fought fer and lost yer way, turned yer back on the Light.”
“Wot did the Light do to protect ya’? To protect any of us when feral beasts and the Forsaken destroyed our homes and affliction ran rampant through our lands?”
“The feral beasts? Ya’ mean like wot ya’ are?”
His words were heavy, piercing the Director like a knife, causing her jaw to drop as her father continued on.
“Ya’ turned yer back to the Light, playing in dark magic that will destroy ya’ and everyone ya’ love in the process. Ya’ hurt who eva it takes to get yer way without a care of the consequences and make friends with those who let Gilneas fall! And if ya’ weren’ already enough of a disgrace, ya’ take women to bed, one of ‘em a witch even!” His face creased in disgust and disappointment as he spit off to the side.
Stepped forward and reached for his arm she hastily spoke, wanting only to explain. “Father, pleas-”
“Yer no daughter of mine.”
Thomas jerked away, the image of disappointment and disgust across his face burned into Kat’s mind as she watched her father vanish before her eyes, falling forward when he pulled away, falling into the darkness.
Just before she could catch herself on her hands and knees her eyes flew open and she jerked forward, panting as she hastily looked around. The sun was near the middle of the sky, had to be around eleven or twelve, she had slept much longer than she intended.
“Shit...” She fell back against the boulder behind her, listening to the sound of the river flowing, a few tears building in her eyes as the last thing her father said repeated endlessly in her mind. All this time she wanted a chance to see him again and it was ripped away from her. Was it real? It felt real...
Clearing her throat and wiping away the tears that threatened to fall, Kat pushed up to her feet, carrying on in her path to Lordaeron. The image of her father disowning her fixed on her mind as she walked in silence.
Subtle sounds of the Arbiter’s hull cutting through the ocean filled the quiet bedroom, the faint golden hues of the sun threatening to break the horizon spilled in through the large window. The Director laid still, sleep throughout the night was unsound, waking randomly as stress seemed to weight down in both withdraws and the newfound information of the night before. Her gaze shifted from staring at the wall ahead to the toned, sun-kissed arm that draped over her midsection, a protective and possessive hold that kept her bare form cradled under the sheets against the Admiral behind her.
The room grew brighter as the sun broke over the horizon, prompting both women to stir beneath the ebon sheets. Like clockwork, and reminisce of a past time for them both, the Admiral and Director rose with the sun, pulling away from the other with a brief and reluctant squeeze from their hold. Stretching arms above her head and cracking her neck, Kat stood from the edge of the bed, making her way to the neatly folded clothes Alexa had sent for. To no surprise they were a near perfect fit, the woman truly did remember the Director’s measurements. Glancing towards the woman as she dressed a few feet away, Kat kept herself in check, keeping hands to herself and resisting any urge to draw closer.
The Director’s request was simple and easily met, wishing to catch up on what had been missed in her absence. Guided to the Admiral’s office before parting ways, Kat spent the entirety of the day reading through every file and report Alexa kept. A crewmen positioned outside the office door at the Admiral’s orders, against the Director’s wishes, ensured she was never alone in case her health in it’s fragile state took a turn for the worse. Against Alexa’s wishes, the Director never left the office to eat, only when the woman was presented with food did she reluctantly feed, concerning herself more with subtly drawing from residual magic in the air.
Marshall, the Kul Tiran crewman she was stuck with, occasionally peered into the office, the Director’s eerily silently reading often causing the man to question if she had slipped away unnoticed. Page after page, Kat educated herself on the events of Kul’Tiras along with the workings of its navy and small bits of information that was kept on Zandalar. The events of Brennadam sparked anger in the Director’s core, just another example of the Horde’s disgusting methods of war. Her reading was interrupted regularly, every hour like clockwork as the Admiral herself would check-in. Same questions every time, ensuring Kat was at least stable and conscious and Kat’s answers were more or less the same each time. It was an understanding in the routine between them, both wishing to protect the other.
The room grew dark at the edges as the sun grew closer to the waters edge again. Amber hues glanced up to the wall on her left, a map of the known world with the Admiral’s own notations pinned to the surface. Studying the atlas for a moment before pushing away from the desk at the center of the room, Kat leisurely moved to the right side of the office where a couch and liquor cabinet sat. Digging through the contents of the latter, she found a bottle of decent whiskey, pouring a glass and falling back onto the seating provided with a defeated sigh.
The Director’s head pounded from within, the withdraw from large amounts of azerite growing worse with each passing hour, though it was a detail she spared the Admiral, not wishing to cause the woman undue worry. Raising the glass to her lips, she drowned out the pain, substituting one vice for another and reserving the rest of the reading material until the next day. For a moment her mind wandered to the woman she still remained tethered to across the spiritual plane, and the information that had come to light the night before. Unwilling to chance magical relapse through their bonds usage, Kat debated writing a letter, though with nearly a week until landfall she had ample time to do so.
Pulled from her thoughts as the small desktop clock chimed the hour, the Director’s gaze averted out the large window and over the sea at the setting sun. Taking another generous sip from the glass as her legs crossed at the knees as she settled into the plush cushions, counting the seconds mentally since the new hour struck. Twenty in, Marshall greeted his superior, twenty-two, the doorknob turned, twenty-five the Admiral stood within the doorway. Kat offered a small, pained smile in greeting, motioning to the liquor with the glass in hand, an open invitation as always. An attempt to make good on her word and move forward, to catch up on lost time until the night grew late.
Keeping track of time started to become a challenge, the days however were easily measured, a piece of driftwood had a notch for every sunrise the Director was still stranded on the island. Three days had passed by, feeling like an eternity, as if this was her purgatory and she was sent here by some higher, unseen force.
The survival training she had scoffed at years ago was now her most valuable skill set. Having found a sufficient nook in the rocks above the shoreline, Kat put together a quick and makeshift shelter. Tools for fishing and hunting the small critters that inhabited the island were fastened from scrap salvaged from the ship wreck. Clothing was torn and cut to accommodate the heat, using leather gathered from the clothes of the deceased to properly hold the rigged outfit together.
There had been no sign of passing ships in the last three days, no search parties, traders, or even pirates. The large stack of wood Kat had gathered on the shore for a bonfire kept her hope alive, even if it started to wane with each passing day.
Azerite now longer coursed through her body, having exerted the excess energy to keep her alive and mend the wounds from the crash. Carefully, she budgeted her energy spend, not wishing to put herself in a difficult position without a source to siphon from.
It was nearing sundown, the raven haired woman sat by the edge of the campfire, watching as the fish impaled on the end of a stick roasted over the flame. With a gentle sigh her gaze flicked down to the short piece of driftwood she had tied to her hip, unhappy with the fact that she would likely be adding a fourth notch soon.
With a turn of the stick, ensuring her meal for the evening was evenly cooked, it was carried off the flame. The Director’s teeth sinking into the still hot fish and tearing away the bite. Amber hues drifted to the horizon, looking over the sea as those she left behind drifted into mind. How many thought she was truly dead, she wondered. Was her life worth the risk to put someone else in danger, someone who would probably be better off without her?
The dangerous train of thought was abruptly interrupted as the the earth beneath her began to rumble. With each passing second it seemed to get more violent, the rumbles turning to quakes. Kat quickly pushed to her feet and moved back, only to find it was worse in her direction of travel. Brows knit and against her better judgement, pressed on towards the epicenter of the activity.
Just over the small hill along the shoreline the earth bust open. Fissures swallowed sand as natural gasses escaped from below. Hard cracks and the grinding of stone filled the air, prompting the Director to get lower to the ground, unsure just what or who would cause such a disturbance.
Moments later chunks and crystals of azerite sprung from the fissures and with them, enraged earth elementals fused with the mineral. Kat’s expression dropped as she stared at the mineral, a part of her wanted to spring into action and take what she could, the exhilaration she had felt under the azerite’s power was like none other she had experienced. Swallowing hard she pushed the addictive thought aside, the risk was too great and she seemed to be unnoticed by the elements for now.
Slipping back down the hill Kat retreated to her shelter, beads of sweat began to form on her brow as the thought of azerite and what she could do with it polluted the back of her mind. There were too many questions and not enough answers, everything was just in theory, side effects of that much azerite were unknown. Quickly finishing off the meal and heading to what she called a bed, which was little more than just a pile of palm fronds, she tried to sleep.
The night would be restless however as her mind kept wandering back to the feeling, the power, the azerite could offer. It had been too long since any of her vices had been sated. No alcohol, no magical sources to siphon, and she was alone, touch starved. Even those who appear strong still have their breaking points. It was all just a matter of when.
( [pt.I] [pt.II] [pt.III] [pt.IV] [pt.V] [pt.VI] [pt.VII] )
(Previous Chapter: The Battle for Lordaeron)
