Draecember Day 1: Hugging Someone
The Swamp of Sorrows. A dismal, dreary, drank hole of a place. The air itself is thick and hot, rank with odors that one would rather not ask the origin of. Even the surroundings areas of Deadwind Pass and the Blasted Lands seemed more inviting than having each one of one’s senses attacked in a place such as this.
But on this day, two particular Lightforged draenei could not be swayed by any of the horrid things that the Swamp threw at them. No - Varistus and Vol’iru, son and father - were traveling to the Harborage. This was where Xeruul, brother of Varistus and Vol’iru’s youngest son, now lived among his fellow Broken.
Vol’iru was nervous. He had seen the Broken on Argus, of course - but Varistus had told him that the Broken that came from Draenor were not exactly the same. These Broken had felt the warm embrace of the Light and had it stripped away from them. Some were still recovering from the mental wounds that they endured. Others were exhausted from defending the camp, or from helping the others. They were not the freedom fighters on Argus - the Harborage served as a home for the truly Broken.
Outsiders were usually regarded coldly, but Varistus had made a point in his time on Azeroth to help the Harborage when he could, so the two were accepted into the camp and led to Xeruul’s home. It was one of the larger buildings in the camp, but it also served as an infirmary. Varistus looked at his father, leaning against the building.
“You are sure you are ready? Xeruul is not the same as he used to be, father.” Varistus explained with a frowned expression.
“Your mother would tear off my tendrils if I didn’t take this chance, Varistus. I-” Vol’iru began to respond, but was cut off.
The flap door of the building, made of hides and leather, was slowly pulled open, revealing a Broken man in dark brown robes, and a mask hanging around his neck loosely. The three of them looked at each other for a long moment - it was the first time in millennia that the three of them had been together, but no one knew what to say. Vol’iru stammered to say something, anything, but Xeruul saved him the trouble by holding three-fingered hand out to him.
“I know, father. While I...” he glances at Varistus for just a second. “...may not be the same as I used to be... I have missed you too.”
Vol’iru bursts out emotionally, both in a sob and a laugh as he moves closer to Xeruul to wrap the Broken in an embrace. It was clear that Xeruul had not had this kind of physical affection for a long time, as his first reaction was to recoil. But the familiarity of it, even after all these years, calmed him almost as quickly. He wrapped his own arms around his father for the first time in thousands upon thousands of years. Tears streaming down his face, Vol’iru nodded for Varistus to join them, and he did. The three of them stood there, at the threshold of Xeruul’s infirmary, wrapped in embrace for a long moment before Xeruul finally moved away. He looked up at both at them as they stood a good two feet over him, tears in both of their eyes. He smiled at them.
“You are both very bright these days. Come inside, you are going to attract the wildlife.” he said with a laugh, already halfway in the building.















