The coldness was creeping over her. Even surrounded by so many, she could feel it blanketing her entire being. She was alone in the crowd. And although she knew he was out there, he’d never be by her side, not with so many around. She let out a frozen breath, a sigh of longing that no one would hear. And the murmurs continued from the crowd, the brief mumbling of thoughts that she didn’t care to pay mind to. Not for a while had she cared to listen to the wants of others. Not when hers weren’t fulfilled.
Her solitary light dimming while her drive, her need to be more, subsided. How long had it been since she was noticed? Since she shone for others to see? 'It’s not my place to change what time dictates...' And she believed the lie. Why shouldn’t she? When causing a rift in the workings of life had done nothing but brought loss to her self, and worse, the end to others… why shouldn’t she believe it? She had learned to accept. And hope was reserved for passing thoughts. Hope was for a lack of planning. A lack of knowledge and logic. She was learning how to rely on more basic instincts than love for humanity. And with that loss of hope came the cold. And the murmurs that she didn’t wish to hear dulled and droned. 'If only he was here.' The thought ignited a small warmth in her chest. She hugged herself, her limbs stiff and heavy as stone. 'Where are you tonight?' Her gaze flowing over the shadowy gray beings around her, the sea of bodies swallowing her up. Getting lost in the crowd.
“It is a funny world we live in sometimes. But it is a world of nightmares. Do you feel the cold sometimes? I feel it constantly, ripping through flesh, bone, and mind alike. Quite an experience, wouldn’t you say?”
Yllithia started at the voice. Her eyes flying open as she nearly toppled over herself, scattering the correspondence that had been sitting on her lap. The mass of grays was gone, and in its place was the familiar carved stone of the Aldor rise, along with several letters of hers now being stepped around by the usual transients that passed through the inn. A few looked her way, her cheeks burning from the mess she made. Dozing again during the waking hours, it was becoming more common as her nights were getting longer, and her ability to sleep without nightmares growing shorter.
“It’s a funny world…” The sentence echoed in her mind. It wasn’t her thought. It wasn’t her voice. And yet she had heard it. Clear as day. While her dreams took her to that cold place overflowing with people. 'Am I not even in control of my dreams?' It wasn’t the first time she had thought it, and surely, it wouldn’t be the last. It was a reason she kept her eyes open. And the voice echoed yet again. “A world of nightmares.” Yllithia shuddered picking up the last of the envelopes, pausing on a plainly addressed parchment.
Yllithia
Ylli frowned slightly, furrowing her brow at the letter. No last name and a script she didn’t recognize. Slowly setting the pile back on her lap she turned the letter over, and then carefully broke the seal.
You’re presence is requested immediately. You shall find me in Stormwind square.
~The Mourner
'The Mourner? What an odd name to call ones self.' And seemingly written as an after thought…
-Are you afraid of the dark?
She folded the letter as her thoughts began to spin. There was no telling how long the post had been sitting before she picked it up tonight. She wasn’t even sure when the last time she checked it was. And besides that, a mystery person requesting her attention… She wasn’t one to rush head first into a situation she knew little of. Yllithia sucked on her teeth. An action she often repeated when a deep debate raged on within her mind. And as if an answer to her internal debate the slightest whisper reminded her from the darkness of her thoughts, “Time is precious to us all. We may serve it but it does not serve us. Do not tarry.”
'Time…' The whisper was right, calling to her and coaxing her with logic that had emotions wound tightly around it. Her emotions. She didn’t have time to waste wondering if she should make the time to seek out a curiosity. Scooping up the papers into her pack she opened the letter once again, her eyes searching for an answer within the blocked text. “What does Stormwind hold?” The printed words remained unchanged. She smirked and headed towards the portals that would give her the answer, if the answer was still waiting to be found.
Yllithia peered around the trade square of Stormwind, her silvery pools taking in the early morning crowd. Some she knew, most she didn’t. It had been weeks (dare she say months?) since she sat in the city and watched those that passed through. And though she lay down at night within the walls, she had little other reason to be there. It hadn’t been the same for some time, now it held too many forlorn memories.
She bit on her lower lip and opened the paper again, hoping for some direction. The city was large, and with only an alias for a name, there was no telling who she should be looking for. Her only hope was that the person would know her. 'Of course he knows you;' she reminded herself, 'such a personal basis to write with no title, with no last name. He’s personal.' Ylli shook her head and glanced around nervously again. Personal was too… personal. It was no secret her name was known. Many that she was certain to never have met before had called her on. But, even those times it was Miss Loreweaver, Priestess of Elune, or some other title or formality given. Not this time. No, it was personal.
“Does it scare you, Priestess?” A voice broke the silence within the early hours. Yllithia spun in the direction of the male voice faster than she intended. He noticed, for a glimpse of a smile crossed his hooded face. She quickly made her judgments, as she’d been trained to do, noting his height, his bulk, any notable weaknesses or strengths. And the irony of it struck her. A man, a mortal, one with even a shorter life than her own, was standing within the shadows of a building, cloaked in darkness, and if that wasn’t enough, had also invited the shadows of their trade to surround, consume, and lick along his clothing, further shrouding him. 'The Darkness calls.'
Ylli pushed down a smile, pressing her lips and refolding the paper that had brought her here. To show she was amused, or curious, or any semblance of emotion would be to invite the dark priest into an easily exploitable weakness. No, she was to be tall, proud, and unbothered by the secrecy that short sentences often kept. This is what she reminded herself of as she set her gaze on the human and strode purposefully towards him.
“Hrm?” She lofted a brow as if she hadn’t actually heard his original question. “What is that?”
Amusement again from him. “Does the darkness scare you?” His stillness was bothersome. When he spoke only his mouth moved. It didn’t even appear that he looked at her. 'Just a trick with the shadows.' She nodded internally. So much darkness around him, it could easily be missed.
“You sent the letter?” She flicked her wrist with the bland cryptic parchment in her hand.
“I did.”
“Care to explain how I may be of assistance? There are plenty of other people in closer proximity…” Yllithia trailed off. He was smiling at her again. No, not smiling at her, but amused by her as if she was a fool putting on a show that he had orchestrated. The muscles along her spine crawled closer together, stiffening.
“So proud.” The Mourner chuckled. “The question has yet to be answered, Priestess.”
Yllithia rolled her shoulder back, attempting to feign ignorance of any question he may have posed. She was the one that wanted answers, not to be toyed with. “What question was that?”
“Do you ever look at the stars? I used to watch them every night, you know.” Yllithia narrowed her eyes at the man as the small voice whispered between her ears. His lips hadn’t moved, he hadn’t spoken, and yet she heard it within her mind. Had she not been careful and he delved within her thoughts even now? No, she knew how to protect her mind from others. Being a priestess, she’d learned how to overtake others. She was much too strong to allow some passing shadow to enter.
His grin was getting to her. He was finding so much amusement with her. The priestess, the shining light, and here she was, lost in the dark, peering at him with confused eyes, trying to cover something. To keep her subtle truths from the world, and exercising lies that he couldn’t help but notice. He was amused by her. “Do you fear the dark, Priestess?”
Yllithia smirked at the man. At this Mourner. “Of course I don’t.” She said coolly, offering a smile to a familiar warrior that approached the two. “I am a priestess of Elune. I call forth her gifts to provide weary warriors with life.” A twist of her wrists and the warrior stopped in his tracks, luminescent showers falling down on him, absorbed by his very being. Ylli’s smirk grew into a grin, her eyes meeting the warrior’s silk covered and sightless gaze for a moment before she turned her attention back to the dark one. “Or hand out her judgments while controlling her wrath.” Yllithia’s form was instantly blanketed in a moving darkness, as if the shadows leapt from the ground and tried to consume her being. They licked like flames would across her skin and clothing, yet none of this seemed to bother her. She tilted her head up to gaze at the moon, a satisfied grin on her face.
“I believed once, in another life. I thought I could be faithful. Like you.” Yllithia paused, looking up at the orb in the sky. Another whisper. Another voice in her head. This was no dream though; it echoed to her the thoughts of one she knew from another time. A not so distant memory.
“There’s more than just darkness and light.” The familiar Kaldorei tone brought her eyes back to Azeroth. It was the warrior that spoke now. He carefully studied the human bathed in darkness, glancing between him and Ylli. Her grin shrank back to a soft smile while she willed the shadows to go. Obediently they crawled back to the darkness they came from, and the moon once again lit her form.
“This doesn’t concern you, warrior.” The Mourner spit, the shadows surrounding him bunching and darkening with his unease.
The warrior shrugged off the words, turning his unseeing eyes towards Yllithia. “I should be on my way, there’s many battles to still fight. Forgive me, priestess, for my intrusion.” He bowed his head to her, a smile gracing her lips at The Mourner’s uncomfort. A blessing was bestowed upon him as the warrior strolled away.
“My sins follow me everywhere I go. It is my path to be alone.” She studied the warrior as if he were the one pressing this thought into her head. An impossible idea, she was aware, yet her eyes followed him while he shuffled away muttering his motto. “Remember the fallen.”
Her eyes drifted back to the scowling priest, the smile threatening to creep back to her lips. “I remember smiling. Do you?” Ylli closed her eyes for a moment, trying to catch a glimpse of the smile. “I remember it now.” She spoke softly to herself, answering the whisper of another memory. No sooner had the words passed her lips that she regretted placing the memory within such easy reach. She remembered him. He’d been playing on her mind for so many months; his ghost had kept her up at night. His words always there.
“It is not the light or darkness of your Goddess I ask, Priestess. It is the darkness of the world. The unknown.” The Mourner cut through her thoughts, pulled her from that darkness she was sinking in her mind. “I ask not what you can do, but what it is that you fear. Knowing that there’s a comfort in the end, a small strand of hope, would that fear be so strong?”
Yllithia swallowed hard. If that hope was there, would not knowing be so bad? Of course it would. There was a hope that he would stay… he had promised it, and even after he left there was the hope that he would return. But she still feared for him. His path was unknown to her, and filled with such shadows that she couldn’t shake him from. Even when she smiled. “Our paths were so different, but in the end, I would have given all to be with you.”
Her eyes closed. These voices: memories, dreams, delusions; these thoughts she wasn’t conjuring but feelings from another, they were pulling her back to places she had tried to move on from. At her will she could delve into the souls of others, tug on the right glimpses of their worries, hopes, passions, and pull from them words to explain what she found inside their heads. This wasn’t the case here. She wasn’t hearing the passing of the crowd, the cries for help, she wasn’t choosing whom to listen to; those had started to dull to her ears when her want to care faded. The turmoil from an unknown source whose connection was so great to her that they could freely press in on her mind should have frightened her, but the longing to know if the connection from her gut to her mind was correct overwhelmed her churning worries.
'Could it be you?' Her chest pained. Of all those that hung from her heart, fading memories that haunted her, he never was any less than what he always was. Still waking her at night. She could swear that his void was felt when in a crowded room, but he was never there. She knew this. He had left months ago. Gone to an unknown place to her, to a barely known past to her that he felt burdened with, that he couldn’t escape from. If this was all she had, the inner monologue that could easily be her slipping into the madness of guilt, it was something she would accept. 'What would it have taken to keep you from finding your pain you longed for so much?'
“A simple kiss. Nothing more. Was that too much to ask for?” She winced, the creases in her closed lids deepening before she opened them again to that sardonic grin from the priest of the shadows standing in front of her. He was waiting for her to respond, though it had only been fragments of a second, they were long enough for him to realize there would be doubt in her next words.
“If you fear, you have no faith. One of our professions should know this quite well.” Ylli put on a strong outward appearance while her inner self crumbled. She didn’t believe the words she was saying. She feared often. She feared at this moment. “If you hope, then you have no trust in your faith.” She maintained her posture, her cold stare, crossing her arms in what seemed like determination to prove her belief in what she spoke, though really an attempt to feel more solid, to fight off the coldness that stabbed at her from within. 'I tried so hard to help you...' “I know what must be, and I accept the outcomes, weather it is pain or joy.”
“The laughter at the tavern. Our many meetings at the square. The confessions of past deeds...”
The Mourner shook his head. “My priestess, you dare not admit what we both know.” Yllithia bristled at the challenge to her words.
“So much to say but so little to reveal…” A breathy whisper as the voice receded in her thoughts.
“I admit the truth.” Her eyes narrowed, speaking both to the unchanging man in front of her and the dialogue spoken only to her. “I choose my words carefully, as I know they are the right ones. Perhaps your wishes cloud the reasoning that should have been instilled in you.”
He blinked slowly at her words, seemingly unfazed. Then silence. Her anger ebbed at that uncomfortable silence. “Murderer.” The manic voice growled, clawing at the back of her mind. “Heartless wretch.” It spit as if replying to her words. “Where else do I belong besides the frozen north?” Slowly Yllithia uncrossed her arms, the letter she had been carrying since she left Shattrath now crumpled from a fist she didn’t realize she had made. Her shoulders didn’t drop though the insults cut deep. The thought of him continuing on to sure death hurt her. She had hoped he would return and realize he couldn’t go on living in despair. Casually she let her eyes wander from his probing stare.
“He is alive.”
Yllithia’s eyes darted back to the unnerving sight of the cold being. “What?” She almost stammered, but managed to keep an even tone. Her eyes widening, allowing the glimpse of the sudden shock she felt. Blinking, she suppressed the urge to allow the questions screaming to be released from her mouth. Instead of the concern she wanted to badly to voice, she coolly pushed, “What do you think you know?”
The Mourner chuckled, if you could call a throaty vocalized snicker a chuckle. “I know more about you than you can imagine, Yllithia Loreweaver.”
“Doubtful.” 'He’s wrong, he knows nothing.' A roll of her shoulder. “Your voice. Your smile. Your very touch.”
“Do not be so quick to judge. There are few secrets that aren’t whispered in the dark.” His demeanor became darker, his eyes boring in on Ylli. Only taking a step closer to her, closing the five foot gap slightly, yet his presence seemed to press in on her. Holding up her defenses suddenly felt like a daunting task. Standing her ground and maintaining her strong exterior becoming an overwhelming chore while the prospect whispered through her of letting go, allowing herself to be free of this persona she’d adopted, this pillar of strength, to be one with those she comforted. She longed for it, to cry, to question aloud; the appeal was being fueled by the man in front of her, coaxing her inner desires through unsaid whispers, unseen gestures.
“You deserved better. I deserved much less.” It snapped her senses back with renewed vigor to not give in. Another roll of her shoulder as her eyes wandered over the man with little emotion. The walls secure inside her. He grinned.
“Your pride overwhelms your emotion.”
“It seems judging is what you do well.” Her lips didn’t curl into the snarl she felt inside. Her face remained blank. Her eyes wishing to shed tears, but her lids not dare closing or else show the torment his words had brought about to her. “I should have died! Why am I cursed to wander with these ashen thoughts? Why will it not end?” That voice striking a chord she could relate to.
“I mourn for you, priestess. It must be a burden to bear to never show such thoughts.”
Yllithia glowered. “No. You don’t mourn. You plague.” Just like the memories plaguing her mind. “Remember that promise I made you?” He was plaguing her mind. She was moving on; it had been months since the last letter. She was starting to understand that hope was something fragile, the truth of things were setting in and the ghost was becoming that.
“A memory that has been forgotten was brought back. A scab that was to heal was once again cut.” This time the hurt was heard in her words. Crisp and steady they came, rage clinging to each syllable. Her fists didn’t clench. Her jaw didn’t tighten. Her eyes didn’t weep, and her back stayed straight. But it exuded from her being through a form she knew she had power in, through her sentence damning him for bringing it all back.
The Mourner sighed with the smile still on his lips, a sound almost of joy. His words elated. “My suffering is done here. I shall pass and he shall live. As will you.”
“You just started the suffering…”
“Remember the promise I made you?” The words cooed to her. “I wanted to bring you to the sands someday. I wanted you to be with me that night…” And now she was left with more guilt, more regret than she already believed was imaginable. She let him leave without fulfilling that promise. She had left it as something to be looked forward to, the only reason she had hope all this time. That hope had been slowly fading, the promise to be forgotten as time went on, now resurfacing, and he was alive. But there was no hope. She wished he would have been dead deep down, and then she could live with what she wasn’t able to stop.
“I will take my leave, Yllithia. But I must tell you one more thing…please.” He frowned, his face losing that happiness he seemed to take in breaking a mending soul. Darkening as he gazed at her, knowing she wouldn’t refuse his last request to be heard.
Yllithia closed her eyes, a sigh of regret for knowing she couldn’t just turn and leave. There was little she wanted more from this dark being, cloaked in not only the night shadows, but those he took joy in accepting around him. Her eyes opened, a brow cocking slightly showing the only sign of feigned interest. “Go on…”
He walked towards her, leaning in close to her ear. Ylli fought the urge to retract from him. Her stomach knotting while his presence surrounded her, the shadows jumping from his clothing, caressing her, looking to grab hold and consume her like a darkness trying to engulf all that dare breathed life. His tone was low and heavy, and those words dropped rocks into her tight chests.
“He has killed again.”
The color washed from her face, her muscles going slack. Disbelief tinged with horror came over her. “No…” She breathed, unable to put anymore sound behind her words. She felt like she was plummeting through blackness, the world fading from her mind. She couldn’t hear the city any longer, she didn’t register everything her eyes were taking in, but she knew the events that took place, as if she was watching through a small window inside herself. The letter dropped from her limp hand scuffling the cold stone beneath her feet. Her body dared to topple, but she continued to stand. The words echoed like judgment bells she was forced to stand under.
She saw him pull back with a smile, his mood brightening. Her eyes slid over him, furthering her confusion and disbelief from his seemingly unconcerned attitude. She saw his lips move, and it felt like eternity before her ears registered the jovial voice fighting through the numbing of her senses.
“Now then. It’s a beautiful night.” Yllithia blinked, slowly fighting her way back from the cascading echo of those words he had just spoken. The mourner flashed a grin and continued on, glancing up at the sky above. “The stars are lovely. How I love to look at them.” She opened her mouth to speak but her voice hadn’t returned. The words lost that would have surely fallen on deaf ears of an uncaring being.
He bowed down pleasantly. “Find him.” And that was it. He abruptly turned, proudly striding off.
“I can’t come back. No. I’ll gaze at them by myself. After all… I left for you.” She shook her head, her bottom lip quivering slightly. Her fingers tingling as she was regaining control. She could feel herself breathing again. She wasn’t aware she had stopped. Her head tilting up to the night sky slowly as a Zen-like calm ran through her body. Just say it isn’t true… she pleaded. She knew she had to find him. If any of it was true, she had to know why she failed, why she couldn’t change him, why she always failed.
A sudden touch startled Ylli from her stone gaze upwards. “Excuse me.” She blinked shaking her thoughts to the back of her mind once again. Back to lay in wait with the voice that had haunted her all night. Turning her attention to a Dreanei female with much concern on her face, her eyes flowing over the girl, quickly returning to the early morning shuffling of the city, noticing it was her whose hand gently touched Ylli’s forearm. “Are you alright?” The youthful girl pressed.
The soft smile returned to her face. “I…” she choked shaking her head and grinning wider. What concern was it to a passing body? This is not how a priestess should be acting. “I am.” She nodded. The girl returned the smile, shaking her head disapprovingly.
“Elune guide you, my dear.” Yllithia gently said, taking the girls hand in her own, bestowing the blessing of her Goddess, and attempting to remove doubt from the Dreanei.
“And the Naaru watch over you, priestess.” She bowed as Yllithia nodded her head in a bow back, turning to head to the desert.
If she was to find him, that is the place he would be.
“The skies over Silithis are like no sky you’ve ever seen at night.” She remembered him saying more than once.
“Take me there someday. I want to see the stars from your eyes. I want to know what it is that moves you.” She had replied back then, running her hand through his hair.
“I will.”
”You promise?”
”Of course.”
Tserai had wandered Azeroth. It wasn't new to him, there were few places he hadn't been. His life extended longer than most humans due to his mother's lineage, but too long for his taste. There were too many horrors that he had caused himself. Too many men he had slain, his mind shattered with every death he inflicted that still lived on in his memories, torn and fragmented with every swipe he had made with his sword. But his feet kept moving. To the death he dreamed of? No. He couldn't stop fighting yet, there were promises he still kept.
He glanced up at the stars. 'Was she looking at them too?' A memory that pushed in on him he wanted to both usher from his mind and grasp onto at the same time. Anything was better than seeing the questioning eyes of those he had hunted before, those who had looked at him with true fear. Hers were never like that. She looked at him not as a monster, but as a being to be accepted. When he closed his eyes, she still gazed at him, and he still longed for that look. But she was gone. He had wished it so. He had left her so as to not knock her from her belief in her Goddess, in her purity. So she wouldn't topple down into the darkness with him to be haunted like he was. And yet his thoughts, when not plagued by murders and misery, were clouded with her presence.
'Would you travel to the ends of Azeroth with me?' He knew the answer. Her place wasn't as a wandering soul, lost to those around them, comforted only by demons and nightmares. She was too good for that. She deserved happiness, and following a mad man such as himself was no place for her. And yet the smile touched her lips, and those eyes like the stars above pressed in on him. Watching his movements. Her hand upon his face, so soft and tempting. Fingers sliding through his hair. Her lips so close to his. The memory played out as it had that night. She edged closer, but not to kiss his lips. He watched, stone still, as she rose above his mouth and touched those silken petals to his forehead.
"Be gone from my life! Do you enjoy tempting me so?!" He screamed knocking the memory from his vision, tearing his gauntleted fist through the cloudy remains of her smile. The wind howled, blowing his hair around. 'Her touch still lingers.' The cold air caressing his scalp, tracing over his numb ear as if it were a hand brushing against him.
Tserai grumbled. Fate was such a cruel thing. Even alone he could never get away. "You are just a memory to me, as I am to you."
He couldn't go back, it wasn't the place for him. The Alliance had followed him even when he tried to move forward. Visiting him in shadows of the night, whispers in his ears. No one was there when he looked again. Yet the voices persisted. Gleefully willing him to keep fighting. Unwilling to let him escape. North was no longer an option. He'd slain his only chance for surviving that night when risked with being a pawn again. No, it was himself that he answered to now, and his demons. He was surely hunted for his murderous deeds in the North... Always being hunted, until he could become the hunter.
The thought made him sick again. The blood on his hands, unseen by travelers that wearily eyed his passing figure, but marked on his soul by the way he carried himself. Pulling his hood further over his head as he gazed at nothing. Ragged and tired, but his feet kept moving. South. The last place left to him. Desolate. Overrun by beasts where few dared to venture but the brave or the stupid. Perhaps there he could find peace, if peace was what he was searching for.
'Maybe I'll starve and be food for the insects.' The bitter thought passed through his head. Again, he knew it wasn't to be. He was unable to die, the suffering had to continue, all the times he'd prayed for it he was never answered. Unable to take his own life, he continued on, striking down all that attempted to steal what he had left of himself. His shell of a body. Always moving, always running away so he wouldn't hurt any others. But he did. He always hurt others, and yet he had to to continue.
"Why do you keep moving?" The voice questioned him. Tserai didn't turn, he didn't look for the creator of the mocking words. He was sure he'd gone mad long ago, though he was also sure that he wasn't speaking to himself. He didn't care any longer whom it was talking to him. Friend or foe, he wanted none of it.
"Aren't you a soldier, born and raised?" The voice continued. "Don't you kill for the joy, for the satisfaction? They could use you. A mindless corpse with such a desire to live that he'd strike down any that come near."
"Why don't you come near and we'll test that." Tserai mumbled, keeping his eyes ahead of him.
"She smiled so prettily, didn't she Azurio? The softest words she spoke to you. And what did you give her in return? Ah yes. Pain." It chuckled.
His stomach knotted. Had he ever given anything else? He was not a sword, yet that was all that he used when confronted by a challenge. He was a man, but he shunned society and their rules. Instinctively Tserai put his hand on the hilt of his blade. So comforting to know it was there. How many times had he tossed it aside to only pick it up again? He wasn't even sure himself. It was like it was a part of him. Fighting was his pastime. Killing was his life. Death? Death was a dream that he awoke from to find he was truly a nightmare.
He closed his eyes. His feet kept moving. South was where he would go. At least until he could find another place on this small little world.
Tserai had wandered Azeroth. It wasn't new to him, there were few places he hadn't been. His life extended longer than most humans due to his mother's lineage, but too long for his taste. There were too many horrors that he had caused himself. Too many men he had slain, his mind shattered with every death he inflicted that still lived on in his memories, torn and fragmented with every swipe he had made with his sword. But his feet kept moving. To the death he dreamed of? No. He couldn't stop fighting yet, there were promises he still kept.
He glanced up at the stars. 'Was she looking at them too?' A memory that pushed in on him he wanted to both usher from his mind and grasp onto at the same time. Anything was better than seeing the questioning eyes of those he had hunted before, those who had looked at him with true fear. Hers were never like that. She looked at him not as a monster, but as a being to be accepted. When he closed his eyes, she still gazed at him, and he still longed for that look. But she was gone. He had wished it so. He had left her so as to not knock her from her belief in her Goddess, in her purity. So she wouldn't topple down into the darkness with him to be haunted like he was. And yet his thoughts, when not plagued by murders and misery, were clouded with her presence.
'Would you travel to the ends of Azeroth with me?' He knew the answer. Her place wasn't as a wandering soul, lost to those around them, comforted only by demons and nightmares. She was too good for that. She deserved happiness, and following a mad man such as himself was no place for her. And yet the smile touched her lips, and those eyes like the stars above pressed in on him. Watching his movements. Her hand upon his face, so soft and tempting. Fingers sliding through his hair. Her lips so close to his. The memory played out as it had that night. She edged closer, but not to kiss his lips. He watched, stone still, as she rose above his mouth and touched those silken petals to his forehead.
"Be gone from my life! Do you enjoy tempting me so?!" He screamed knocking the memory from his vision, tearing his gauntleted fist through the cloudy remains of her smile. The wind howled, blowing his hair around. 'Her touch still lingers.' The cold air caressing his scalp, tracing over his numb ear as if it were a hand brushing against him.
Tserai grumbled. Fate was such a cruel thing. Even alone he could never get away. "You are just a memory to me, as I am to you."
He couldn't go back, it wasn't the place for him. The Alliance had followed him even when he tried to move forward. Visiting him in shadows of the night, whispers in his ears. No one was there when he looked again. Yet the voices persisted. Gleefully willing him to keep fighting. Unwilling to let him escape. North was no longer an option. He'd slain his only chance for surviving that night when risked with being a pawn again. No, it was himself that he answered to now, and his demons. He was surely hunted for his murderous deeds in the North... Always being hunted, until he could become the hunter.
The thought made him sick again. The blood on his hands, unseen by travelers that wearily eyed his passing figure, but marked on his soul by the way he carried himself. Pulling his hood further over his head as he gazed at nothing. Ragged and tired, but his feet kept moving. South. The last place left to him. Desolate. Overrun by beasts where few dared to venture but the brave or the stupid. Perhaps there he could find peace, if peace was what he was searching for.
'Maybe I'll starve and be food for the insects.' The bitter thought passed through his head. Again, he knew it wasn't to be. He was unable to die, the suffering had to continue, all the times he'd prayed for it he was never answered. Unable to take his own life, he continued on, striking down all that attempted to steal what he had left of himself. His shell of a body. Always moving, always running away so he wouldn't hurt any others. But he did. He always hurt others, and yet he had to to continue.
"Why do you keep moving?" The voice questioned him. Tserai didn't turn, he didn't look for the creator of the mocking words. He was sure he'd gone mad long ago, though he was also sure that he wasn't speaking to himself. He didn't care any longer whom it was talking to him. Friend or foe, he wanted none of it.
"Aren't you a soldier, born and raised?" The voice continued. "Don't you kill for the joy, for the satisfaction? They could use you. A mindless corpse with such a desire to live that he'd strike down any that come near."
"Why don't you come near and we'll test that." Tserai mumbled, keeping his eyes ahead of him.
"She smiled so prettily, didn't she Azurio? The softest words she spoke to you. And what did you give her in return? Ah yes. Pain." It chuckled.
His stomach knotted. Had he ever given anything else? He was not a sword, yet that was all that he used when confronted by a challenge. He was a man, but he shunned society and their rules. Instinctively Tserai put his hand on the hilt of his blade. So comforting to know it was there. How many times had he tossed it aside to only pick it up again? He wasn't even sure himself. It was like it was a part of him. Fighting was his pastime. Killing was his life. Death? Death was a dream that he awoke from to find he was truly a nightmare.
He closed his eyes. His feet kept moving. South was where he would go. At least until he could find another place on this small little world.
Silithis at night was much different than the Silithis she remembered. It had been nearly a year since she set foot in the wasteland home to the bugs and elemental invaders, she had been spending most of her days in the old lands of the Orcs and Dreanei, fighting the new battles waged against old threats. And even in that time, a year ago, she never traveled Silithis alone, and never at night. But this time she did both. Trading out her usual horse for a saber whose footing wouldn’t be lost so easily in the sand. Its big paws leaving a trail of prints as it steadily navigated around the wandering wild life. Weather they were uninterested in the challenge of taking on an over-sized cat big enough to carry an elf, or simply following the orders dictated through their hive mind, she wasn’t entirely sure. The path was all the more easier without having to deal with giant insects.
Ylli wasn’t sure where she was going, Silithis was a big place, but she knew the area well. She had fought in the war that raged there. Seeming to have subsided for now, both sides keeping their claim with only small skirmishes breaking out when the bugs attempted to further contaminate the land, or the druids holding down Silithis Hold believed it to be necessary to push back the invaders through hired mercenaries, much like she once was.
The night was still. Calm and eerie. The wind didn’t blow as was a normal occurrence for the harsh desert. This she was thankful for. A sandstorm was the last thing she needed at the moment, threatening to keep her in the small outpost until it passed. She would have gone despite the warnings to her. Determination was something Yllithia didn’t lack. And she knew he was here, somewhere… Her only navigation to the possible areas being her knowledge of who he was… Or who he was to her. She knew more about him than any other, but Ylli would never claim to truly know everything about this dark and cold protector she currently sought. Everyone had their secrets, and his were ones that even she was terrified to know about.
To truly see the sky, to see all that was Silithus, there was only one place in her mind that would bring you closest to the stars. This was where she headed. The northeast corner, towards the jagged cliffs and the lone watch tower hidden through winding paths rarely traveled. Staghelm Point. She only hoped that he was there, not wandering the desert, for whatever reasons his feet kept moving. He never stayed in one spot for long. He didn’t like sleeping where he could be found. He didn’t like sleeping at all.
'Are you really back? Were you really going to continue to wander without seeing me? How could you still be so lost, even after such acceptance?' She wanted answers to all of these questions, but they would never be asked. More than anything she just wanted to know if it was true. If everything that was said, was true. Not knowing was too painful, it was gnawing at her core. She had been torn all these months with the hopes that he would return, that he would be different, and the release of never having to bear what he was again, that pain he caused her that he didn’t know.
Yllithia dismounted staring up at the stone tower. Her hands still clutched around the reigns as if they were her last life line before she were to plunge back into the darkness of the unknown. She didn't know what to expect. Her emotions a chaotic mass pushing on her chest, threatening to pour out at any moment. Fear gripped her. Desire pushed her. Sorrow kept her gaze solid. Joy urged her to keep moving. It would have been easy to turn, to not look back, to play off that the encounter that lead to the recent events was another of her waking nightmares that she would never utter to another. But she couldn't allow herself to go on, not knowing what could be.
There was something more that she had never voiced before. That little flame, the warmth they had shared even when he was so cold, and herself at times too. She had loved him in a way. That feeling was still there. Incomprehensible to most. It was a devotion to him. To another she had cared for before as well and been to young and too blind to prevent the atrocities that had occurred due to her emotions, and those of others. Covered up by a claim to protect what was left of his soul, of her priesthood, she had reasoned it was the love of a living being that she held. A love for his life. And if that were the case, then this is what it entailed. Staring up at the stone tower before her, the desert winds still, the silence piercing her ears. His life was more important than a night of restless sleep. For that is what she would have when her eyes closed, more dreams of the darkness creeping in.
'Would being a priestess entail wandering the ends of Azeroth to bring him back to life?'
"Find him."
'Am I lying to myself on what is my duty and what is my wish?'
"Find him."
The words echoed in her mind as the debated raged on. She knew where to look. She knew him so well. And this brought the fear that he'd be worse than when she first met him. 'What if I can't bring him back this time? What if it takes more than a smile, kind words, what more can I give?' The rock in her chest heavied.
"I will mourn for him when he is gone. Until then...." 'Until then, what?' More sleepless nights. More staring at the stars and the pain of knowing a few words would have changed his urge to find the answer he wanted. One action could have made the difference of it all. Yllithia was here now. And she knew he would be here too. Isn't that what mattered at this moment, that you truly were never alone, even in a place like this.
She grit her teeth, determined to let forth the misery of her nights. Of her days. To expand on how his selfish journey had caused her to weep. Letting go of the reigns she slowly climbed the wooden stairs, her feet sliding over each step feather light. Her hand trickling along the cold mortar wall for balance with a determined gaze that grew softer each foot she came closer to the top. The dingy orange-hued sky came into view. Her breath wavering while her heart rapidly bounced in her chest. Her eyes reached the landing and she allowed herself a brief glimpse of what awaited her. Her breath stopped, but still she moved. Time slowed down once again as the last step passed beneath her feet, wide eyes spilling the words that wouldn't come, she peered across the floor at her hope, at her nightmare.
Her legs felt weak, wanting to give beneath her. Yllithia let out the last of her pent up breath in an airy whimper. "Tserai..."
Tserai let his eyes wander across the wasteland. What they originally planned on doing in the harsh desert, he wasn't sure, but the Cenarion Circle outpost still stood. The druids of opposing factions came to a peaceful agreement, they both wanted the same thing after all, the invaders gone. Tserai couldn't say he wanted them gone. They were curious little things. Little of course pertaining to their status on the food chain, and not their size. Larger than himself, he couldn't quite call them small. Scurrying about on their daily routine, being directed by some greater being than themselves, and probably not knowing any wiser either.
He let out a sigh.
Sometimes he felt like one of those giant insects. Such power he held, and here he was, scurrying about feeling as if he was being forced to keep moving by some greater being. 'What was he so afraid of?' There had to eventually be an end to the bloodshed. He just hadn't found the right reason yet... no, that was wrong. He had, long ago... but she was gone. Much like the bugs that crawled unseen beneath the desert sand. Like the battles that had raged here in this nearly abandoned place. She had left leaving only signs for him to reminisce on. And even those had gone with time. This place too would be empty. The insectizoids wasted away in the desert, sand blowing over their memories. Could he just forget with enough time?
Tserai shook his head. There were always reminders. His emptiness wasn't filled, and he believed it never would be. No desire to go on, but only to move. The dreams came when he closed his eyes. There was something more he had to do. Fight for the Alliance? No, he was his own man. Had been for many years. He wasn't one to be a drone like the bugs burrowing underground. A scavenger like them, perhaps. Picking what little he needed to keep going, but he wouldn't waste away. He wouldn't be slain. Not like the fragile beasts that had their time on Azeroth, knocked down by the next to come along. He would persist. If only he knew why...
His eyes went up tot the sky, slowly following a dragon that still flew by. It was observing the land. How much they had seen in their infinite years. How the world had changed under their gaze from the sky, and even though they were hunted by their own kind, and by those of his, they lived on. 'Even in this place there is still life that attempts to survive.' The bitter thought made him smirk. 'Perhaps I'll stay for a while. If Sillithus cannot destroy the dragons desire to continue, then it cannot destroy me.'
He hadn't really come to the desert to die. Just for solitude. With old foes re-emerging, adventurers, mercenaries, those pledging to one side of the long standing war or another, the land had gone dead. There was a time he had been on the front lines here. When he wore the emblems of his faith, or his allegiance and struck down all that stood against them. But now the land was less traveled. Rarely did a soul wander through but to see what once was of the war-torn land. Here forces had joined, and fallen. Now a graveyard of the past. 'If only I could put my past to rest as well.'
Tserai shifted his weight running his hand over the ancient wood railing. At the top of Staghelm Point he stood, one of the remaining watch towers that hadn't been overrun by the bugs that seemed to consume everything. His next step was waiting for him, though he didn't know where it would lead yet. Eyes drifting up again, to those stars above in the eerie orange-tinted sky. Colored by the desert sand and the husks of the insects that had long ago fallen, disintegrating into even more debris to float along the wind. The night poured down on him, pulling his being into the vastness. The creaking of the wood beneath him fading while his thoughts enveloped him.
"Tserai..." The faintest whisper wretched him from eternity.
Spinning around with the sudden realization that he wasn't alone he recognized the form before he drew his sword. 'It can't be..' His eyes went wide as he took in the Night Elf before him. Clad in a dark robe, trembling and wide eyed, she peered at him, questions seen on her face but saying no more.
"I..." She opened her mouth but that one word was all she uttered.
"Ylli..."
Yllithia watched Tserai spin around at her small voice. Sudden disbelief covering his face. His grey eyes widening. Perhaps she was wrong for coming here. She wanted to see him so badly, wanted to know, but it seems she startled him. 'Too late now. Go! Explain!' She opened her mouth to talk, to explain how she knew, but only one syllable came out.
"I..." Her voice caught. How could she explain the letter? The dark stranger? ....That she knew he had murdered another? She was shocked herself to actually find him. Never had she visited Sillithus with him, and yet her first intuition about where he would be was correct. Did she really know him that well? 'If I do then I know the answers already.' Every possible emotion coursed through her.
"You're... Someone..." Yllithia tried desperately to pick one and continue on, but as soon as the word came out of her mouth another was there to take it's place. Her eyes swept over him, glancing down, then back at Tserai again. She couldn't believe it. Here was the chance to say it all, he was here, he was alive, and she was babbling like a child that had just witnessed a dragon for the first time. 'Dragons are much too common to be compared to this. He's alive. He's flesh and blood in front of me. Please let the words come.'
A short breath and the words tumbled forth. "You see, I got this letter..." 'No! Think Ylli, you're better than this.' The merry-go-round of feelings and thoughts on how to express them kept spinning. He stepped towards her, mouth open as if he lost his words as well. Never have being one of many, it wasn't a surprise to her. But she survived off words. Internally she began to sweep up the urges to voice more than was needed, the tornado of possibilities slowing, her brows lowering and a calm washing over her body.
"You're... here." She said slowly. Accepting that this wasn't a dream. "He said to find you, and I thought..." The conversation came back to her causing her to trail off. He had said a lot of things, but two were prominent in her mind. The answer to one was standing in front of her; he wasn't dead, he continued to breath like the rest of the living world. The answer to the other remained unasked, but she had to know.
Ylli's eyes burned right through Tserai. Coldness creeping over her body, permeating her flesh, stretching into her core.
"I..." Tserai uttered still unable to comprehend how here, where he came to be alone, she found him so easily. Still amazed he was actually looking at her and not some dream that haunted him.
"You've..." Yllithia swallowed, not wanting him to confirm it. She knew. It would be better to not know, but she knew. And this was not something she could pass over and move on about. "Killed someone?"
Tserai's stomach turned. Of all the things she could have said, she was here to remind him of this. Of all the things he wanted to say, this was not one.
"Ylli..." Almost a plead from him, his eyes still wide that she was really there before him. As if he'd conjured her from his thoughts, but this was no memory. A memory wouldn't bring up the question, it would already know. She had asked it so soft, so cool, and he was obligated to answer. He never could deny her of that. He searched her eyes, staring at him, past him; those eyes that held such emotion while she, herself, would appear collected and calm. Could she see the answers without him saying a word? How did she know of events that took place far away from her piercing gaze?
The well of emotions exploded for the briefest of moments. Despair overtook Yllithia. Desperation in her voice. Her caring face wrought with pain. Like a child throwing a tantrum the words came from her, begging for things to not be as they seemed. How could he explain? He had desecrated the trust another had in him. He had struck the final blow to survive, and this is what he was confronted with. Yet another one he was causing pain.
"No!" Yllithia demanded. She didn't want to believe it. If he was innocent he would have said more. But he remained silent and unmoving. Staring at her. The silence confirming his guilt.
"Tell me it wasn't all for nothing." She pleaded. She couldn't be such a failure that she was unable to change who he once was. After everything they'd said, everything they'd done, another one she was unable to bring back. This couldn't be how things were.
"Tell me there was a reason." There had to be an answer. Yllithia was unable to settle that he could take life when she knew there was a time he was sworn to defend it.
"Tell me you're not a monster." He was a void, but not uncaring. She knew things still haunted him, that guilt gnawed at his core. She couldn't accept that she was a failure. If it was all true, she had accomplished nothing with her time with him. He was her responsibility, and with that, the blood rested on her hands as well.
Tserai said nothing.
Defeat consumed Ylli. Nodding slowly to the unsaid words she swallowed down the guilt. The pain buried back to whence it came. Her worse fears coming to pass, he was darker than he'd ever been in her dimming eyes. The things she could have done to make things different falling through her mind, like dried up leaves they dropped, fragile and dead. None of it seemed to matter now. Although he had returned, breathing, heart still beating, it was a cold dreary sound echoing like judgement bells inside the shell he wore. His soul was dead.
Tserai spoke softly. He felt no outrage at her words, though sharp, they were nothing he hadn’t considered before. A monster. She put it so perfectly. She always had a way with saying the right thing. “It wasn’t what you think it is.” He wanted her to understand that not everything he touches turns to dust. It was what he had to do, this… murder. Surely she could come to understand, grab hold of reason again.
He would tell her what had happened. Answering those questions he knew she wanted to raise, but refused to ask for being improper in her eyes. They just needed some time to talk again. To just sit without a vocal conversation. She would see that it had to be done, that it couldn’t have been another way. She would have to understand, or it all was in vain. He wouldn’t be here if it were any other way. She wouldn’t still be on his mind, if the events took a different path. He may not have even had a mind, if it were to be changed. Lifting his hand, he offered it to Ylli, hoping she would read his thoughts this time, like she seemed able to do so many others. “Please…”
Yllithia swallowed hard, fighting to keep a calm voice. She had let her emotions get the better of her, she had called him a monster. ‘Do I really believe it?’ If she did or not didn’t matter, for it shouldn’t have been said, in her mind. And there he was, in her mind as well. Even with her eyes closed, she saw him, she remembered the letter she had received, how she had wept for him. He was a ghost then, and now? Now he was …
“You’re back. No longer a dream.” Yllithia opened her eyes as if to reassure this, that he in fact stood in front of her under the dusty skies in such a far-fetched location. “No longer a memory…” She shook her head, eyes tracing over his being, examining every detail of him. Probing him. Coming to rest on his outstretched hand. ‘A hand stained with hidden blood.’ “What have you done?”
“Are you so hesitant to near me, Ylli…?”
Rushing into his arms wasn’t what he was hoping for, but this was saying much more. She didn’t want to move towards him, he could see it as her eyes once again slowly crept over him. Tserai could feel her gaze probing his being, debating on weather to run or come closer. She still stood across the balcony of the tower, and he had only moved one step himself. ‘A comfortable distance between them for someone that was looking upon a murderer.’ He thought to himself. She had trusted him before, at least he believed she had. Why else would they have gone to desolate places where no others knew to venture? That trust didn’t seem to be there now as she stayed planted, watching him as if he were one of the bugs in the desert waiting to scramble towards her.
Her mouth opened but no sound came out. It was settled. What he had one day hoped for was gone. This wasn’t a reunion with tears of joy; the only tears were ones that wouldn’t fall, weeping for him. This was a goodbye. He could feel it. How could he have shattered this as well? Stepping back to leave her with no more words, he turned to the railing again grasping the ancient wood for support. Strength that he needed as he prepared for her to vanish like she appeared. Frustrated at himself, at whatever gods there may be for giving him this life. He was to stand alone, much like the tower he was in now. No company but the wind during the cold nights, no visitors during the waking hours but the sun blazing down on his beaten being.
He listened for her footsteps, but they didn’t come. She was still standing there.
Yllithia couldn’t leave. She watched him withdraw, but there was more she needed to know. More still to say. The choice was clearly hers as he turned away, the opportunity to walk away with what was revealed again given to her. But she just couldn’t leave. Not yet. She hadn’t said goodbye, and she wasn’t sure if she ever would be able to. Months ago, when he left her, she wouldn’t accept it. So long with no word, she still couldn’t believe he had faded into oblivion. The memories too strong, reminding her every day that he could still say hello again. And now that she knew he still walked Azeroth, it would never be a solid goodbye.
And beyond her own selfish desire to keep him more than another ghost of her past, she knew he needed her now. It wouldn’t be fair to turn and walk away after the words she had said. After interrupting his silent solitude. ‘Unless he wants to be alone…’ She was the one that barged in on him. He didn’t write, didn’t come to her. Ylli began to think perhaps she made the wrong choice in seeing him. Those whispers earlier in the night could have easily been her own thoughts. ‘No. I know my voice.’ They were not her own doing. Perhaps amplified by her unsettled curiosity, her hidden concern for his absence, but they were not hers to begin with.
“I wanted to take you here one day.” Tserai finally said, breaking the emptiness between the two.
“I know. You promised. I always remembered.” She said, pushing her inner conflicts aside. She had remembered. And although there wasn’t a need to pay the gryphon handlers to take her to the lost desert, the thought had come across from time to time. Patience won out on those occasions, reminding her that it should be seen through the promise he made her, one she brought up throughout the course of their friendship. “But each day it seemed further and further from something I could keep you to.”
She slipped across the floor. Masked by her belief that she stayed for his sake, Ylli moved closer for her own. She needed him as well. Many reasons could be claimed for this feeling that Yllithia never delved into, always stamping her duty as a priestess as the seal of approval. But her want to be that priestess often times lead to poor choices. She was one to be ruled through a constant battle between quiet consternation and excessive emotion. Neither ever providing the optimal route without the other to balance the decision.
Yllithia dismounted staring up at the stone tower. Her hands still clutched around the reigns as if they were her last life line before she were to plunge back into the darkness of the unknown. She didn't know what to expect. Her emotions a chaotic mass pushing on her chest, threatening to pour out at any moment. Fear gripped her. Desire pushed her. Sorrow kept her gaze solid. Joy urged her to keep moving. It would have been easy to turn, to not look back, to play off that the encounter that lead to the recent events was another of her waking nightmares that she would never utter to another. But she couldn't allow herself to go on, not knowing what could be.
There was something more that she had never voiced before. That little flame, the warmth they had shared even when he was so cold, and herself at times too. She had loved him in a way. That feeling was still there. Incomprehensible to most. It was a devotion to him. To another she had cared for before as well and been to young and too blind to prevent the atrocities that had occurred due to her emotions, and those of others. Covered up by a claim to protect what was left of his soul, of her priesthood, she had reasoned it was the love of a living being that she held. A love for his life. And if that were the case, then this is what it entailed. Staring up at the stone tower before her, the desert winds still, the silence piercing her ears. His life was more important than a night of restless sleep. For that is what she would have when her eyes closed, more dreams of the darkness creeping in.
'Would being a priestess entail wandering the ends of Azeroth to bring him back to life?'
"Find him."
'Am I lying to myself on what is my duty and what is my wish?'
"Find him."
The words echoed in her mind as the debated raged on. She knew where to look. She knew him so well. And this brought the fear that he'd be worse than when she first met him. 'What if I can't bring him back this time? What if it takes more than a smile, kind words, what more can I give?' The rock in her chest heavied.
"I will mourn for him when he is gone. Until then...." 'Until then, what?' More sleepless nights. More staring at the stars and the pain of knowing a few words would have changed his urge to find the answer he wanted. One action could have made the difference of it all. Yllithia was here now. And she knew he would be here too. Isn't that what mattered at this moment, that you truly were never alone, even in a place like this.
She grit her teeth, determined to let forth the misery of her nights. Of her days. To expand on how his selfish journey had caused her to weep. Letting go of the reigns she slowly climbed the wooden stairs, her feet sliding over each step feather light. Her hand trickling along the cold mortar wall for balance with a determined gaze that grew softer each foot she came closer to the top. The dingy orange-hued sky came into view. Her breath wavering while her heart rapidly bounced in her chest. Her eyes reached the landing and she allowed herself a brief glimpse of what awaited her. Her breath stopped, but still she moved. Time slowed down once again as the last step passed beneath her feet, wide eyes spilling the words that wouldn't come, she peered across the floor at her hope, at her nightmare.
Her legs felt weak, wanting to give beneath her. Yllithia let out the last of her pent up breath in an airy whimper. "Tserai..."
Tserai let his eyes wander across the wasteland. What they originally planned on doing in the harsh desert, he wasn't sure, but the Cenarion Circle outpost still stood. The druids of opposing factions came to a peaceful agreement, they both wanted the same thing after all, the invaders gone. Tserai couldn't say he wanted them gone. They were curious little things. Little of course pertaining to their status on the food chain, and not their size. Larger than himself, he couldn't quite call them small. Scurrying about on their daily routine, being directed by some greater being than themselves, and probably not knowing any wiser either.
He let out a sigh.
Sometimes he felt like one of those giant insects. Such power he held, and here he was, scurrying about feeling as if he was being forced to keep moving by some greater being. 'What was he so afraid of?' There had to eventually be an end to the bloodshed. He just hadn't found the right reason yet... no, that was wrong. He had, long ago... but she was gone. Much like the bugs that crawled unseen beneath the desert sand. Like the battles that had raged here in this nearly abandoned place. She had left leaving only signs for him to reminisce on. And even those had gone with time. This place too would be empty. The insectizoids wasted away in the desert, sand blowing over their memories. Could he just forget with enough time?
Tserai shook his head. There were always reminders. His emptiness wasn't filled, and he believed it never would be. No desire to go on, but only to move. The dreams came when he closed his eyes. There was something more he had to do. Fight for the Alliance? No, he was his own man. Had been for many years. He wasn't one to be a drone like the bugs burrowing underground. A scavenger like them, perhaps. Picking what little he needed to keep going, but he wouldn't waste away. He wouldn't be slain. Not like the fragile beasts that had their time on Azeroth, knocked down by the next to come along. He would persist. If only he knew why...
His eyes went up tot the sky, slowly following a dragon that still flew by. It was observing the land. How much they had seen in their infinite years. How the world had changed under their gaze from the sky, and even though they were hunted by their own kind, and by those of his, they lived on. 'Even in this place there is still life that attempts to survive.' The bitter thought made him smirk. 'Perhaps I'll stay for a while. If Sillithus cannot destroy the dragons desire to continue, then it cannot destroy me.'
He hadn't really come to the desert to die. Just for solitude. With old foes re-emerging, adventurers, mercenaries, those pledging to one side of the long standing war or another, the land had gone dead. There was a time he had been on the front lines here. When he wore the emblems of his faith, or his allegiance and struck down all that stood against them. But now the land was less traveled. Rarely did a soul wander through but to see what once was of the war-torn land. Here forces had joined, and fallen. Now a graveyard of the past. 'If only I could put my past to rest as well.'
Tserai shifted his weight running his hand over the ancient wood railing. At the top of Staghelm Point he stood, one of the remaining watch towers that hadn't been overrun by the bugs that seemed to consume everything. His next step was waiting for him, though he didn't know where it would lead yet. Eyes drifting up again, to those stars above in the eerie orange-tinted sky. Colored by the desert sand and the husks of the insects that had long ago fallen, disintegrating into even more debris to float along the wind. The night poured down on him, pulling his being into the vastness. The creaking of the wood beneath him fading while his thoughts enveloped him.
"Tserai..." The faintest whisper wretched him from eternity.
Spinning around with the sudden realization that he wasn't alone he recognized the form before he drew his sword. 'It can't be..' His eyes went wide as he took in the Night Elf before him. Clad in a dark robe, trembling and wide eyed, she peered at him, questions seen on her face but saying no more.
"I..." She opened her mouth but that one word was all she uttered.
"Ylli..."
Yllithia watched Tserai spin around at her small voice. Sudden disbelief covering his face. His grey eyes widening. Perhaps she was wrong for coming here. She wanted to see him so badly, wanted to know, but it seems she startled him. 'Too late now. Go! Explain!' She opened her mouth to talk, to explain how she knew, but only one syllable came out.
"I..." Her voice caught. How could she explain the letter? The dark stranger? ....That she knew he had murdered another? She was shocked herself to actually find him. Never had she visited Sillithus with him, and yet her first intuition about where he would be was correct. Did she really know him that well? 'If I do then I know the answers already.' Every possible emotion coursed through her.
"You're... Someone..." Yllithia tried desperately to pick one and continue on, but as soon as the word came out of her mouth another was there to take it's place. Her eyes swept over him, glancing down, then back at Tserai again. She couldn't believe it. Here was the chance to say it all, he was here, he was alive, and she was babbling like a child that had just witnessed a dragon for the first time. 'Dragons are much too common to be compared to this. He's alive. He's flesh and blood in front of me. Please let the words come.'
A short breath and the words tumbled forth. "You see, I got this letter..." 'No! Think Ylli, you're better than this.' The merry-go-round of feelings and thoughts on how to express them kept spinning. He stepped towards her, mouth open as if he lost his words as well. Never have being one of many, it wasn't a surprise to her. But she survived off words. Internally she began to sweep up the urges to voice more than was needed, the tornado of possibilities slowing, her brows lowering and a calm washing over her body.
"You're... here." She said slowly. Accepting that this wasn't a dream. "He said to find you, and I thought..." The conversation came back to her causing her to trail off. He had said a lot of things, but two were prominent in her mind. The answer to one was standing in front of her; he wasn't dead, he continued to breath like the rest of the living world. The answer to the other remained unasked, but she had to know.
Ylli's eyes burned right through Tserai. Coldness creeping over her body, permeating her flesh, stretching into her core.
"I..." Tserai uttered still unable to comprehend how here, where he came to be alone, she found him so easily. Still amazed he was actually looking at her and not some dream that haunted him.
"You've..." Yllithia swallowed, not wanting him to confirm it. She knew. It would be better to not know, but she knew. And this was not something she could pass over and move on about. "Killed someone?"
Tserai's stomach turned. Of all the things she could have said, she was here to remind him of this. Of all the things he wanted to say, this was not one.
"Ylli..." Almost a plead from him, his eyes still wide that she was really there before him. As if he'd conjured her from his thoughts, but this was no memory. A memory wouldn't bring up the question, it would already know. She had asked it so soft, so cool, and he was obligated to answer. He never could deny her of that. He searched her eyes, staring at him, past him; those eyes that held such emotion while she, herself, would appear collected and calm. Could she see the answers without him saying a word? How did she know of events that took place far away from her piercing gaze?
The well of emotions exploded for the briefest of moments. Despair overtook Yllithia. Desperation in her voice. Her caring face wrought with pain. Like a child throwing a tantrum the words came from her, begging for things to not be as they seemed. How could he explain? He had desecrated the trust another had in him. He had struck the final blow to survive, and this is what he was confronted with. Yet another one he was causing pain.
"No!" Yllithia demanded. She didn't want to believe it. If he was innocent he would have said more. But he remained silent and unmoving. Staring at her. The silence confirming his guilt.
"Tell me it wasn't all for nothing." She pleaded. She couldn't be such a failure that she was unable to change who he once was. After everything they'd said, everything they'd done, another one she was unable to bring back. This couldn't be how things were.
"Tell me there was a reason." There had to be an answer. Yllithia was unable to settle that he could take life when she knew there was a time he was sworn to defend it.
"Tell me you're not a monster." He was a void, but not uncaring. She knew things still haunted him, that guilt gnawed at his core. She couldn't accept that she was a failure. If it was all true, she had accomplished nothing with her time with him. He was her responsibility, and with that, the blood rested on her hands as well.
Tserai said nothing.
Defeat consumed Ylli. Nodding slowly to the unsaid words she swallowed down the guilt. The pain buried back to whence it came. Her worse fears coming to pass, he was darker than he'd ever been in her dimming eyes. The things she could have done to make things different falling through her mind, like dried up leaves they dropped, fragile and dead. None of it seemed to matter now. Although he had returned, breathing, heart still beating, it was a cold dreary sound echoing like judgement bells inside the shell he wore. His soul was dead.
Tserai spoke softly. He felt no outrage at her words, though sharp, they were nothing he hadn’t considered before. A monster. She put it so perfectly. She always had a way with saying the right thing. “It wasn’t what you think it is.” He wanted her to understand that not everything he touches turns to dust. It was what he had to do, this… murder. Surely she could come to understand, grab hold of reason again.
He would tell her what had happened. Answering those questions he knew she wanted to raise, but refused to ask for being improper in her eyes. They just needed some time to talk again. To just sit without a vocal conversation. She would see that it had to be done, that it couldn’t have been another way. She would have to understand, or it all was in vain. He wouldn’t be here if it were any other way. She wouldn’t still be on his mind, if the events took a different path. He may not have even had a mind, if it were to be changed. Lifting his hand, he offered it to Ylli, hoping she would read his thoughts this time, like she seemed able to do so many others. “Please…”
Yllithia swallowed hard, fighting to keep a calm voice. She had let her emotions get the better of her, she had called him a monster. ‘Do I really believe it?’ If she did or not didn’t matter, for it shouldn’t have been said, in her mind. And there he was, in her mind as well. Even with her eyes closed, she saw him, she remembered the letter she had received, how she had wept for him. He was a ghost then, and now? Now he was …
“You’re back. No longer a dream.” Yllithia opened her eyes as if to reassure this, that he in fact stood in front of her under the dusty skies in such a far-fetched location. “No longer a memory…” She shook her head, eyes tracing over his being, examining every detail of him. Probing him. Coming to rest on his outstretched hand. ‘A hand stained with hidden blood.’ “What have you done?”
“Are you so hesitant to near me, Ylli…?”
Rushing into his arms wasn’t what he was hoping for, but this was saying much more. She didn’t want to move towards him, he could see it as her eyes once again slowly crept over him. Tserai could feel her gaze probing his being, debating on weather to run or come closer. She still stood across the balcony of the tower, and he had only moved one step himself. ‘A comfortable distance between them for someone that was looking upon a murderer.’ He thought to himself. She had trusted him before, at least he believed she had. Why else would they have gone to desolate places where no others knew to venture? That trust didn’t seem to be there now as she stayed planted, watching him as if he were one of the bugs in the desert waiting to scramble towards her.
Her mouth opened but no sound came out. It was settled. What he had one day hoped for was gone. This wasn’t a reunion with tears of joy; the only tears were ones that wouldn’t fall, weeping for him. This was a goodbye. He could feel it. How could he have shattered this as well? Stepping back to leave her with no more words, he turned to the railing again grasping the ancient wood for support. Strength that he needed as he prepared for her to vanish like she appeared. Frustrated at himself, at whatever gods there may be for giving him this life. He was to stand alone, much like the tower he was in now. No company but the wind during the cold nights, no visitors during the waking hours but the sun blazing down on his beaten being.
He listened for her footsteps, but they didn’t come. She was still standing there.
Yllithia couldn’t leave. She watched him withdraw, but there was more she needed to know. More still to say. The choice was clearly hers as he turned away, the opportunity to walk away with what was revealed again given to her. But she just couldn’t leave. Not yet. She hadn’t said goodbye, and she wasn’t sure if she ever would be able to. Months ago, when he left her, she wouldn’t accept it. So long with no word, she still couldn’t believe he had faded into oblivion. The memories too strong, reminding her every day that he could still say hello again. And now that she knew he still walked Azeroth, it would never be a solid goodbye.
And beyond her own selfish desire to keep him more than another ghost of her past, she knew he needed her now. It wouldn’t be fair to turn and walk away after the words she had said. After interrupting his silent solitude. ‘Unless he wants to be alone…’ She was the one that barged in on him. He didn’t write, didn’t come to her. Ylli began to think perhaps she made the wrong choice in seeing him. Those whispers earlier in the night could have easily been her own thoughts. ‘No. I know my voice.’ They were not her own doing. Perhaps amplified by her unsettled curiosity, her hidden concern for his absence, but they were not hers to begin with.
“I wanted to take you here one day.” Tserai finally said, breaking the emptiness between the two.
“I know. You promised. I always remembered.” She said, pushing her inner conflicts aside. She had remembered. And although there wasn’t a need to pay the gryphon handlers to take her to the lost desert, the thought had come across from time to time. Patience won out on those occasions, reminding her that it should be seen through the promise he made her, one she brought up throughout the course of their friendship. “But each day it seemed further and further from something I could keep you to.”
She slipped across the floor. Masked by her belief that she stayed for his sake, Ylli moved closer for her own. She needed him as well. Many reasons could be claimed for this feeling that Yllithia never delved into, always stamping her duty as a priestess as the seal of approval. But her want to be that priestess often times lead to poor choices. She was one to be ruled through a constant battle between quiet consternation and excessive emotion. Neither ever providing the optimal route without the other to balance the decision.
- For more stories regarding Tserai you can visit Into The Dark, a blog done by the original creator of Tserai Azurio.
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