Echoes Located - Pt 2.
Part 1 is here!
She had found him. Garren. He was safe. And so was her soul, both pieces housed within his very core in a protectiveness she could not replicate. A protectiveness she could never repay him for. Shath’yar only knew how he was able to achieve such a feat, but there he was, laying there before her and deep within slumber as her soul pulsed within him. Alive. Vibrant. Calling for her to collect them and take them back within herself. But she could not yet. There was still much more to do, and they were safer within his own soul.
The trio had saved her life. But the danger was not over yet. They still had to get home...
Lussier was on his feet the moment her head poked over the rock, void coiling grotesquely about his form, building within the palms of his hands. Green twisted with violet within his gaze as he stared at the strange woman that came tumbling and rumbling down the slope, landing rather unceremoniously beside Garren and Ly.
The fact that the Guardian's bow was brought out, and promptly lowered was not lost on the older Kiden, his already raw curiosity drawing a tilt to his head as the woman explained she had made it. As far as he knew, Teren and Ly were the only two who were supposed to be here, so who was this one?
"Glad you made it." He offered, hands shifting to clasp behind his back, though those violent energies remained twisting about his body and down his arms. "Now... Kindly, who are you?"
Exhausted, silver eyes with swirling violet lifted to lock onto the one standing, her chest heaving, lips chapped and parched as she'd run out of water hours ago. Isolde turned her attention on Ly as she inclined her head in his direction, lips twitching as she tried to form words.
She lay flat on her back, flopping down beside Garren. Gods, that was a long fucking trek.
"I am... Isolde.. Rev'more. Now kindly," she opened her eyes as she lay there, ebon locks sprawled out around her in a darkened halo around a face of pristine, snow. "Who are you?"
Ly exhaustedly lifted a hand, tugging gently on Lussier. "Sit down.. she's with us..."
Releasing a slow sigh, Lussier acquiesced to the tug on his jacket and relaxed. In part because of Ly's assurance, but also because he recognized the name Teren had given to the soul they had collected from the Void.
Moving to the ruck, the red head removed a container of what passed as water within the realm of shadows, avoiding being nipped by the two creatures that worked happily on the supplies they had brought with them from earlier. "Lussier Kiden." He offered, stepping up to the woman on her back and handing the water to her.
"Now how exactly did you get here, I wonder?"
"Another Kiden," she croaked out on broken whispers, nodding as she closed her eyes. She could hear him shuffling around in the ruck, heard the telltale swish of liquid and her eyes shifted back open, landing on the offered container.
Gingerly and with wincing pain did she sit up. Gods was she going to need a hot bath and sleep for a week after this. A pale, very scarred hand came up and took the offered water, nodding her thanks.
Before she answered him, she drank heavily, some of the water dribbling along her chin as she slowed down, not wanting to waste it. With a gasp, and a few heavy breaths of relief, she offered the container back. "I thank you," she said less hoarse now.
Isolde adjusted her body, legs flat out before her and beside Garren, hands outstretched behind her as she took a moment, eyeing the void covered body of Ly before turning to Luss as she spoke. "I am a soul binder and a servant to the Shath'yar." Her gaze shifted from Ly to Luss. "I opened the Veil to feed a soul to the ancient ones. My daughter, his daughter," she nodded toward Garren, "Is in the Shadowlands, anchoring me there. However, two of my other anchors, are here," she nodded toward Garren once more.
"I slipped through the tear in the Veil, found myself in a massive citadel where I met a Quel'dorei and a Ren'dorei. The Quel'dorei... I almost killed in the reality plane. The Ren'dorei has... been collecting the souls all these years that I have been offering. But I believe we've a way home," she added, silver and violet hues trained now on Ly and his void covered body.
The look on the Guardian's face when Isolde mentioned a way home was nothing short of divinely inspired relief; set amidst the haunting obsidian and indigo energies suffusing his normally handsome features. "Light and Shadows... have mercy on our souls." he murmurs, smiling to the nearby woman. "I'll carry him there, if that's what it takes. Thank you."
Isolde let her gaze settle on Ly, a slow nod ensuing before her quiet accent echoed out. Her fingers lifted, scarred digits beckoning him closer. "Come here... you will not be able to do anything while the whispers continue to assault your very core."
Tugging Teren's slumbering form with him, Ly carefully repositioned himself with Isolde at his side, and his Charge stretched out in front of him, their torsos aligned and the other man's feet splayed out from between his legs.
Dropping her arm with a thump, it was clear she was fatigued, but she could do this one last thing before succumbing to a rest she desperately needed. A rest they all needed before the trek home.
Words of the Shath'yar erupted from her lips, guttural and hissing, her marred hand moving to settle over the center of Ly's chest, though not touching. Much like she had once before in a dream, she began to siphon the energies from his very body, taking them into her own, her eyes becoming stark violet so not a trace of silver remained.
The feel of the viscous energies being drawn out made the Guardian visibly nauseous; choking and gagging as they were pulled out of his body and into the Wraith beside him. It was a different magic than that which had so thoroughly suffused him when he fed from his master, but the relief of the turbulent whispers coaxing him to so many paths at once was worth the current torment and then some.
As the void energies flow into Isolde, she finds another faint echo... a sliver of the ever-elusive memories that she'd only tasted in passing in her dreams.
Two toddlers, not much older than the Twins were now, sat curled up in an overstuffed chair with their Mother between them. From her vantage, the ephemeral woman could see through the eyes of one of the two as she stared at the young boy across from her as he slept - and snored, softly, like a young puppy with a cold.
The girl looks up to see her Mother looking down with adoration at him and tugs at her Mother's richly embroidered gown. "Mama. Victor sleepin'."
Smiling affectionately with just as much love at the toddler who'd spoken, she nodded. "You should be sleeping, too, Scassira. Come on. We can't make any more lemon pastries until after your nap, Little Dreamer."
A palpable sense of alarm floods through Isolde, and a thought. Oh no! I gonna sleep! Curling in toward her Mother, the young girl closes her eyes, feeling warm, safe, and desperately hungry for more pastries.
Isolde felt her stomach turn and her chest warm, her eyes wide and unseeing in the present realm, but watching as if a film strip played before her very eyes. Her breathing picked up, her eyes burned, and soon... it was over, slumping to the side and onto Ly, she felt her eyes drift close, the pull of sleep unable to be eluded.
"There... you go... Ly Can... Canthos..."
And then the wraith was dropped into an exhausted sleep.
The hiss of the silence of his own mind, and the relief of the taunting whispers abruptly external again leaves Ly breathless with relief. As Isolde collapses against him, he pulls her close to pillow her as she, too, drifts off to an exhausted slumber.
@waroftwowolves @ly-canthos @teren-k @maluraunderchild @daughterofkiden @huntsman-hawthorne @anrai-silentcrest
