An Ending, One of Many (Pt.2)
Another impact. Closer this time? No, he couldn't think about that now. Sprinting through the halls of his family's ancestral home, Taldin's mind races. In his vanity, a secret part of him always had thought that the layers upon layers of spells and enchantments he had painstakingly woven into these walls would be enough to weather any assault. Had he truly thought his magic would be strong enough to shield this place from might of the Legion as well?
No time to dwell on that misplaced pride now. Carelessly tearing open the door to the room that housed his own private collection, he rushes inside and immediately starts to pour over the many tomes, books, and arcane artifacts stored there. So many to preserve, yet so very little time to do so.
In his mind, Taldin ruthlessly takes hold of his own emotions, reining them in so that he can think with clear, cold focus. What was necessary and what could be left behind? A locked trunk near the wall held two old tomes filled with all sorts of macabre lore regarding the Fel. Those could prove useful. His sword, yes, he would need his sword. It had been some time since he last used it, but if there was ever a situation that called for-
And then the time for thought and careful planning is suddenly over as his world crumbles around him.
The ceiling collapses inwards in an avalanche of fire, brimstone, and shattered timbers. The force of the impact knocks Taldin flat on his back, destroying most of his prized collection in a heartbeat. Dust and smoke fill the air and, for a brief moment, the dead man absently wonders if the ringing in his ears means that he has been deafened by the explosion. But the roar of rage that then rumbles out from the core of the burning meteorite quickly assures him that is not the case.
Any part of his collection that remains is swept away as the Infernal struggles to its feet, one arm lashing out wildly with the mindless need to crush and kill. His emotions surge again as Taldin stares at the flaming construct, his hatred and fury urging him to destroy this Fel-fueled abomination that would dare invade his home. But his burning anger is just as quickly quenched, leaving behind a cold, empty void in its wake. It didn't matter now. The demons were here, his possessions already gone. The time for revenge would come eventually.
Now was the time for survive.
Turning away from the pieces of his shattered past, he leaves the Infernal behind as it struggles to escape the confinement of the small room, screaming all the while. Taldin wastes time as he makes for the front door. This place was not safe. Where one Infernal falls, there are a dozen more ready to fall soon after. He would have to flee for now, perhaps to one of his bolt holes, or maybe even to one of the so-called 'safehouses' suggested by the Servitors. As for Tanria...
Tanria would have to see to her own safety. She was in Stormwind, somewhere, which if nothing else would be far better defended than his own secluded home. Once he found sanctuary, he could contact her and regroup, but for now, they were the both of them on their own.
From a safe distance away, Taldin watches his home as it slowly burns to the ground, having already been struck by a second Infernal as it rocketed down from above. He tries to take some grim satisfaction in watching the last legacy of his father being crushed beneath the feet of stomping demons , but even that cannot compare to the overwhelming sense of anger and loss. This was the second time his life had been torn apart in an instant, and the second time he had been powerless to stop it.
Would he ever be able to stop it?
For a few seconds longer, the dead man stares down at the smoldering wreckage of his past. Then, as he had done many times before, he turns his back on it and walks off into the empty night.
