Tyrellius Duskfury exhaled sharply out of his nose. His mask hid well the disapproving scowl on his face, as he escorted Lady Silentspear into Everblaze Manor. While the Demon Hunter didn't see in the same way as his elven kin, he could still perceive his surroundings well. Better than most, thanks to his prime bound demon. Observers saw the world through many different lenses. And now, so did he. Everblaze Manor was… gaudy. Crimson drapery with golden filigree, the grandiose portrait frames and statue busts lining the corridors-- most of which depicted Lord Everblaze himself, of course-- the vaulted ceiling crowded with dimly lit chandeliers... all of it shiney and extravagant! The manor was a monument to the Magister's narcissism, most assuredly. Tyrellius found himself glad, for once, that he'd gouged his real eyes out to spare them the true pain of seeing all this naturally.
Tydori, on the other hand, didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. A rather slender woman, she walked the halls of the Manor with such grace and reverence, any passer-by could have mistaken her for master of the domain. If not for the garish horns protruding from her raven hair, perhaps. She dressed the part nonetheless; an elegant black dress with red and gold trim. A blindfold to match. Simple, but all the same displayed a fealty to the High Kingdom. And that wasn’t an accident. For months, since stepping into the spotlight of the Council, she’s long represented the side of Quel’Thalas often left too forgotten by those living in the luxury of Silvermoon. Soldiers and citizens, all who have made often-overlooked sacrifices. She needed no extravagant dress or peacocky attire. Hers was a platform of simplicity and fealty. And she wore it well in both the literal and figurative sense.
That’s why they were here, Tyrellius could only surmise; Lady Silentspear’s controversial propositions had tipped the Sun Council itself on its head. Outraged at her “radical” ideas for reformation, she was dismissed… much to the ire of the people whom she represented. Protests, riots, anger in all its forms from civil to ugly all erupted throughout Silvermoon. Unintended by Tydori, of course, but Tyrellius knew she wouldn’t have been invited to a Councilor’s estate if noise hadn’t been made on her behalf. Though, he never expected Lord Bey’ron Everblaze, of all the Councilors, to be the one who would reach out first. An odd move, even for him. Despite the support she’d garnered from her fellow elves, to any politician she was a poison; was Lord Everblaze truly so powerful-- or arrogant-- to host her like this without losing face?
The pair of demon hunters stepped into a large room; dimly lit, but that was no issue for them. Bookshelves lined the walls. And where there weren’t bookshelves, there were more paintings-- scenery in this room, rather than portraits. In the center of the room were three luxurious chaise lounges, all circled about an elegant table of food and wine. No guards. No attendants. The room was as empty as a tomb. Magic permeated the air throughout, causing Tyrellius’ ears to flicker with unease. Was this a trick? He wasn’t fond of the idea before, and grew less so by the second. His hands settled onto the hilts of his weapons as he stepped out ahead of Tydori to better examine the lounge. Nothing looked too unusual, save a few remnant portal signatures slowly dissipating into the ambient arcana. He approached the sitting area, Tydori waiting as patiently and quietly as she always did for her trusted hand to inspect the scene. The food, while delivered via magical means, was real. Fresh, too. Grapes from a vineyard, sliced meats and cheeses… and red wine in a small cask-- their host’s vintage, it seemed. Tyrellius grunted, before nodding to Tydori. All seemed well enough… for the moment.
“How long are we to wait here for him, before we get on with our lives?” he asked, no shortage of bile in his tone.
Tydori approached, and placed a hand on Tyrellius’ shoulder. Wordless, yet it said all he needed to hear. He exhaled a sigh, ears wilting as he dipped his head.
“... I know. I’m sorry. I’m just on edge. I’ve heard… things… about this Magister.”
“--Good things, I hope.”
A pair of bookshelves across the room opened up, revealing Magister Everblaze. He smirked at his guests as he entered the room, and bowed his head.
“Lady Tydori Silentspear. I’m so pleased you accepted my invitation today.” he grinned, approaching the sitting area.
Tydori bowed her head politely, her ruby lips curling into a polite smile. Tyrellius, however, simply crossed his arms. Bey’ron raised his brow curiously, at the rather mixed reception.
“... I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long. I know you Illidari are used to a certain hastiness, hmm?”
“--I’m sure you mean punctuality, Milord.” Tyrellius corrected, unabashedly.
“Mm… certainly so.” Bey’ron grinned at him, before motioning to the chaise lounges. “Why don’t we sit, hmm? Please make yourselves comfortable.”
Tydori once again dipped her head, before lowering herself into one of the seats. Bey’ron did the same, settling into his preferred chair. Tyrellius remained standing, arms crossed as he stared at the Magister. He’d seen him before, once or twice in passing; always dressed in lavish robes, and wearing that cocky smirk. His entire person soaked in arcana-- and a streak of fel magic inherent to most Blood Elves. Yet now, the Magister’s attire was simple. Almost humble for him. Unusual, considering everything he’d seen so far of Lord Everblaze’s lifestyle. Was it a ploy of some kind to relate to Lady Silentspear? Or a gaff at her expense? Perhaps neither; perhaps Lord Everblaze didn’t find this meeting worth dressing up for. Insulting, no matter the case. Tyrellius was normally reserved and accepting, but… something about Bey’ron rubbed him the wrong way. He kept still, statuesque, mask hiding the glare on his face. But Bey’ron seemed to know it was there… and smirked at Tyrellius as if he didn’t care. As if he welcomed it.
“I admit, I’ve been greatly impressed by your resilience through all this, Lady Silentspear. Your Councilorship has not been the smoothest, has it?” the Magister began, folding his hands atop one another in his lap. “And yet, you endure. You persevere. I find your tenacity inspiring, I must say.”
“--With all due respect, is this a joke, Milord?” Tyrellius chimed in. “You know as well as I do that Milady Silentspear has been dismissed from the Council by you and your fellow Councilors, hasn’t she?”
“Ah, I’m glad you asked. That’s not entirely accurate.” Bey’ron got his turn to correct. “Councilorship isn’t just granted and revoked by declaration alone. There’s a lengthy process to both. The Council’s intention is unaltered, presently, but she’s not been stripped of the honorific just yet.”
He turned his attention to Lady Silentspear, and dipped his head.
“That, frankly, is what I’ve invited you here to discuss, Lady Silentspear. I’m curious what it is you want. What you hope to achieve. If our goals align… perhaps we can attain them together, hmm?”
“Milady Silentspear’s goals are quite clear, I believe.” Tyrellius spoke up once more. “She outlined them succinctly in the draft of her most recent proposition. One which you and the Council--”
“--Forgive me, Master Duskfury, was it?” Bey’ron’s voice raised, eyes narrowing at the Illidari as his smirk vanished. “I’d thank you to hold your commentary, hmm? I was addressing Lady Silentspear.”
Tyrellius exhaled sharply once more, shaking his head.
“I speak on her behalf, Lord Everblaze.” he explained. “A side effect of the sacrifice she made, and the pact she formed… Milady Silentspear doesn’t speak any language but one, now. Not one that elves inherently understand.”
Rather than appear surprised, as Tyrellius expected the Magister to, Bey’ron simply chuckled lightly. His emerald eyes flickered, settling once more on Lady Silentspear, as his fingers steepled in his lap.
“Worry not, Master Duskfury. This is something I anticipated.” he grinned. “I know Lady Silentspear hasn’t been one to address anyone publicly. And her propositions were all delivered by Council Orators, never by herself. It wasn’t hard to piece together her vocal limitations. I assure you… I’m quite capable of carrying out a conversation with her on my own. Reza kil xi nath (We won’t be needing you).”
Tydori’s ears flickered, as Bey’ron switched fluidly to the Demonic tongue. She turned, looking to Tyrellius, who appeared equally surprised. His brow knit behind his mask, as he exhaled a grunt of disapproval.
“Hmph… You’re a warlock then.” he derisively accused.
“Oh, please, Master Duskfury. That’s such a savage nomenclature, don’t you think? I’m not some ritualistic demon-worshipper, like an Orcish warlock.” he grinned. “No, I’m a Magister. My interests and pursuits into the Fel and Demonology have all been scholarly, I assure you.”
“Zi nar falak tu zu kanil (You’re full of surprises, Lord Everblaze).”
Both turned to Tydori, as she finally spoke aloud. Her felfire gaze glowed a bit brighter, shining through her blindfold as she peered at Bey’ron. The Magister dipped his head, and replied to her, in kind.
“Gek toro ix vesk taniz (Our paths aren’t so different).” he assured her with a nod, before speaking in his native Thalassian once more. “If it pleases you, we can converse freely like this, hmm? No need for your translator.”
“(He’ll stay. But I’ll speak for myself, now.)” Tydori replied. “(I admit… it’s nice to have a direct conversation again.)”
“One of the many ways I’m sure we’ll work well together, hmm?” Bey’ron grinned. “So please, tell me… what is your ultimate goal in these propositions you’re creating? You seem to have public interests at the forefront of your agenda.”
“(Of course. I’m an Illidari, Magister Everblaze. We’re but one group of many sin’dorei who are criminally under-represented in the Spire.)” Tydori elaborated. “(By design, the Sun Council is a nepotistic exclusive group, suited to serve the nobility best, and everyone else sparingly. That has to change.)”
“On that, I think we agree. But it won’t change overnight, Milady. You’re talking about altering the foundation of the Sun Council itself. That will take time.” Bey’ron advised, before plucking a glass of wine from the table. “What is your plan, precisely? Brute-forcing propositions won’t work, I’m afraid. You must realize that now, hmm?”
“(I… do, yes.)” the Illidari exhaled a light sigh. “(Perhaps I was too… ‘hasty’, as you put it.)”
Tyrellius scoffed lightly.
“(But that’s only because this goal is an important one. Our Kingdom has changed greatly over the last few years. Old mindsets no longer suit our needs.)” she elaborated, her tone brimming with conviction. “(Modernizing organizations like the Sun Council are the first steps towards building a better Quel’thalas. For everyone. Not just the nobility.)”
“Mm. Then we should do so mindfully.”
Bey’ron nodded in agreement, before taking a sip of wine from his glass. He eyed Tydori for a moment, silently, before leaning towards her.
“You know… I wasn’t always a noble. My beginnings were humble, if you can believe it. I had to build up my name. It wasn’t already pristine and revered, like the one you inherited.”
His lips curled, eyes flickering a bit brighter.
“Or… should I say stole?”
Tydori reached for a glass as Bey’ron spoke-- pausing to look up at him at his last accusatory word. Her brow raised; not in confusion, but light panic. Tyrellius stepped forward, hands slipping up to his sides.
“--I insist you show Milady Silentspear respect, Lord Everblaze!” he growled. “You’ll not slander her so in my presence!”
“Oh? Is this all for show, then? Or does your pet not know, Lady Silentspear?” Bey’ron grinned. “I have a theory on who you really are… maybe you’ll confirm it for me, hmm?”
Without hesitation, Tyrellius drew his blade and pointed it threateningly at Bey’ron. His eyes ignited in felflames, glowing brightly behind his cloth mask.
Tyrellius turned, brow raised at Tydori. He could sense it-- her demeanor had changed from one of silent confidence to quiet shame. Her shoulders sank, chin dipping as she leaned back in her seat. Like a child caught stealing treats, she folded her hands before her. The strength in her aura, too, diminished. Something was amiss. Slowly, he sheathed his blade, looking between the two Councilors warily. Bey’ron only chuckled.
“He doesn’t, then… a pity. Do you wish to tell him, or should I?”
Tydori remained quiet.
“... So be it.” the Magister smirked. “Lady Tydori Silentspear went to Outland and fought as part of the Sunfury. But she never became an Illidari. She died in Netherstorm, defending a Manaforge from Aldor forces. Isn’t that right?”
Tydori still kept quiet and still; her silence still rather telling.
“This woman, to which you’ve pledged your fealty, Master Duskfury… I suspect is actually Tanori Flaresorrow, Lady Silentspear’s trusted seneschal and close personal friend. My theory is that upon her Mistress’ death, she joined the Illidari… and then stole Lady Silentspear’s identity once your kind were accepted back into Quel’thalas. A name like hers carried such weight - a shame to see it wasted. Am I right?”
Tyrellius shook his head in disbelief. He turned to the other Illidari fully, leaning down at her. He could feel it; her heart rate increasing, beating hard in her chest. Her cheeks grew flush with embarrassment or shame. She didn’t need to say anything to confirm what Bey’ron claimed.
“... By the Sun…” he muttered, defeatedly.
“(That’s not why I did it.)” Tydori-- rather, Tanori admitted. “(I swore I would do everything I could to uphold her family name and its values. Nothing I’ve done has been outside her intent and wishes! Turn me in if you wish, Lord Everblaze, but know that Tydori had nothing to do with this! I won’t see you drag her name through the mud!)”
“--Oh… you misunderstand, my dear.” Bey’ron shook his head, idly swirling the wine in his glass. “I’m not going to turn you in. You’ve turned Lady Silentspear’s name into a beacon, and the citizens are rallying around it. That has uses. You have uses.”
“--Bastard! This is why you brought her here? To blackmail her?” Tyrellius snarled.
“On the contrary… I meant everything I’ve said thus far. Our goals may align well here. And my keeping this little secret is… let’s call it a show of good faith, hmm?”
A dozen thoughts swarmed Tyrellius’ mind all at once. His hand gripped the hilt of his blade once more, as he stared with disdain at Bey’ron. Tydori had been a long time friend… he never knew she’d lied about any of this. But was it so bad? He knew her intentions were pure. Would it be worth continuing to serve her? Or would the lies pull him apart from the inside out? What of Bey’ron? Tyrellius knew he could kill him, here and now. But… no, that would only make things worse. His staff knew he was meeting Tydori and him today. Turning up a corpse of their master right after? It wouldn’t be hard to piece it together.
“... Leverage, then.” he grunted.
“Call it what you will.” Bey’ron shrugged, before taking another sip of his wine. “My offer stands; reintroducing Lady Silentspear into the Council, and helping her gradually bring about positive change, is still very much in line with my own agenda. Details aside, we can help one another out. With your support of the citizenry and my clout in the Council Chambers? I’m confident we can see certain improvements made. Effectively, too.”
“(I won’t manipulate our people like that!)” Tanori frowned.
“--More than you already have, you mean? With your lies? With your silent consent of their aggression?” the Magister chuffed. “You’ve made it decently far on your own merit, my dear, but you won’t get much further without someone helping you. No matter how you look at it… that’s what I’m offering.”
With that, the Magister stood up. Tyrellius stepped forward, ready to intervene or apprehend him if he tried anything… but Bey’ron simply smirked at him again. Gloating over him. Mocking him, like a dog at the end of its leash. He knew there was nothing Tyrellius could do. Not without only harming himself, or his mistress. Lightly, Bey’ron bowed his head to Tanori, and turned to depart.
“I’ll give you a few days to think it over, hmm?” he offered his parting words. “Feel free to linger, if you wish. See yourselves out at your leisure. We’ll be in touch, to be sure.”
With that, Lord Everblaze departed in the same manner by which he’d entered. The bookcase doors closed behind him, leaving the two Illidari alone once more in the elegant lounge. Tanori was silent for a moment longer; less in a quiet dignity, and more out of speechlessness. Tyrellius grunted, as he looked her over. His blood felt like it was boiling-- to be lied to for so long! If he had known, he could have protected her better, or helped conceal it. But now, this Magister had her locked in his grip, and there was no easy way out. Tanori seemed to feel the same way.
“(... I’m sorry, Tyrellius.)” she muttered, quietly. “(I should have told you.)”
“It’s too late for that now, Milady.” he replied, with a grunt. “Instead, we need to figure out what we can do about this.”
Tanori shook her head, before looking up at Tyrellius. Even behind her blindfold, he could see her eyes were dim. Extinguished.
Tyrellius has walked a variety of paths, giving him a unique and open perspective on life. Ever-faithful to Quel’Thalas, his decisions - both good and... not as good - are all made based on what would be best for the High Kingdom. Recently, he’s returned home to Silvermoon, now working to find what place, if any, the city and people he loves have for him!
Utilized the Shadowlands Dressing Room to portray his proper hair/skin tone, as they’re not yet available in-game! And someday, I WILL get Art of this guy!
👰 and 🌼 for.. Bey’ron aaaaaand Tyrelius? (Idk if I spelled that right)
👰 Would my muse ever get married?
🌼 Would my muse prefer a big wedding or a small wedding?
Bey’ron would absolutely get married! Marriage is a sign of great stability and commitment. And picking a potent partner strengthens ties and assures strength in supporting one another. The advantages are stark, as far as career advancement, political stake holding, and... oh, did you mean for love or something? Haha, no, no no. Marriage is a tool to gain a stronger foothold! Bey’ron’s not the sort to marry for love. If he loves whoever he’d marry, that’s... gravy. A nice bonus. But not a root cause or reason!
And of course, if he did, his wedding would be the event of the season! An excuse for a spectacle all about him? He’d pull out all the stops to make it the most extravagant and illustrious gala Quel’Thalas has ever seen!
~*~
Tyrellius used to want all that. A loving and committed wife. But the more he’s gone through in his life, the more he’s come to terms with the fact that’s just not in the cards for him. He feels his calling is to protect people - all people. And to pick just one to devote himself to would hinder his overall purpose. He’s abandoned the thought of getting married a long time ago...
For Argonas, Tyrellius and Grakkar - What is a fantasy your muse has?
Argonas used to fantasize about bedding both versions of Sinafay at the same time. How amazing that would be, to indulge his carnal passions with Sinafay times two? Unfortunately, one died. And the other is, as he would call her, tainted. Alas, his fantasy will never come to be. But on occasion? He’ll still fantasize about what could have been...
Tyrellius fantasizes about morning sex! The thought of waking up to someone close to him, and starting the day pleasuring one another is by far his favorite! He’s had his fantasy fulfilled a few times, but not at all recently. Still, he often reminisces about that satisfying feeling. No better way to start the day!
Grakkar has had the same fantasy for years! His mate and him celebrating a successful hunt! Downing a deadly beast! Raiding a well-guarded village! The beforehand doesn’t matter much, as long as it’s a triumph! After the thrill of fighting, he and his mate have rough, intense sex as a celebration of their hard-earned victory! What could be better?
Thanks for the ask, @kidcatgemini! @sinafay1 and @sinafay-the-defiant for mention!
For Dahlyah, Tyrellius and Bey'ron - Does your muse enjoy cuddling after sex?
Dahlyah is most definitely a cuddler! Nothing feels better than to snuggle up next to a well-worn-out lover and drift away to sleep together. This has proven problematic with some of her non-Dark Iron surface partners, as she tends to run a little hot! Not many are keen on hugging a miniature furnace right after such rigorous activity! But if it were up to her, she’d cuddle them all night long!
Tyrellius certainly enjoys cuddling, and other physical intimacies after sex. There’s foreplay, but then there’s afterplay that includes such things as cuddling, talking, spending a few more moments coming down from shared elation. It’s every bit as important sometimes, in close and deep relationships.
Bey’ron likes his space. After sex, he’ll often move away to once again be his own person. It isn’t anything against his partner, of course. For a short while, he has no issues holding hands or spooning with a lover. But at some point, he’ll separate from them to reestablish his independence and individualism. Such intimacies can be taxing, after all!
