Tamaki Firestrider stands with a happy smile having once again finished his inspection of his small chunk of land; his eyes show signs of his age with fine faded wrinkle lines on the outer sides of each eye, and a few frown lines upon his forehead. The trials faced over the last years have etched themselves on his once smooth face.
“Daddy!” a small girl comes running from near the orchards “DADDY!” She yells stumbling and picking herself up continuing her beeline towards him. “Orrick is climbing the water tower with Gabby again!”
She glares up at her father, her white blonde locks curl around her face and this girl was in every way her mother’s child, He could already see the telltale signs of another warrior in the making.
Tamaki sighs and slips down into a sitting position waving her to sit in his lap. “You realize it’s a good thing darling, that tower is a danger, and by telling you no… he protected you.”
“Lord Firestrider, It seems you have a guest.” Dorell said suddenly from the doorway bringing Tamaki out of his doze.
“What? Oh…who is it at this late hour?” He responded before wiping his eyes and yawning, the empty bottle of whiskey stood as a testament to his evening as he worked through his father’s doings over the last few months.
“It seems this man knows you, a Mr Luca.” Dorell said with an air of irritation.
"I will see her suffer!"
"If you lay a hand on her, I will hunt you down. Not even the shadows can keep me from you!"
"I will not lay a finger on her. We made a deal, and I intend to keep my end of that deal. You merely said 'my' hands. You forgot to mention anyone else under my command. I will see her suffer, and you can do nothing about it!"
Luck had walked away after that statement. As his image grew smaller and smaller in the distance. Kleinacuss turned around.
"Grin. Did you get all of that? I want that man dead, then we will tend to Joyia."
Kleins sinister laughing followed as the Orc jumped from the ledge. The orc would follow Luck. Keep tabs on his movements, his habits, and report them back to Kleinacuss.
"I'm just trying to help you."
Those words were haunting Kleins mind for many nights. Help? Did she even look inside the sphere? She had no idea what she unleashed. All that rage, that hatred, that locked up emotions Klein kept inside his Void Sphere. They are now free, free to change Kleins mind. The full force of all those memories coming back in one attack. The image of Kleins dead brother, Zonacuss, laying in his arms. Looking up at Klein, terror in his eyes.
"Why did you do this? What did I do brother?"
"You lost the faith, you failed to achieve what we set out for. You lost faith in life. I have no choice. You, my brother, must die!"
The following letter was enclosed in an envelope with a wax seal imprinted with The Aegis crest
To: The Office of Partisan Affairs
Re: Insubordination within The Aegis
As the new commander of the privately run unit, The Aegis, I feel it is my duty to report and file an act of insubordination from two officers. This is continuing on from the verbal report issued by former Commander Ash'Eline Springsun-Quel'Amad and Lieutenant Gwrtheyrn Quel'Amad.
As it was stated, Private Nymuelyn also known as Aurelie, was placed into solitary confinement within a private prison cell that warded against the use of any magic. She had become a danger to those around her and herself.
Many times before had the darkness of her cell surrounded and embraced her, for in the by-now countless days and nights she had been isolated in the secret cell the dim glowing of the runes had become her only light source. The darkness became something more than just shadow; it became a sort of safety blanket in the uncomfortable nights chained to her cot.
Now the familiar darkness took on a different quality. Now, it was embracing her gently, lovingly, with alternatively icy and warm arms. By now the pain had faded, leaving behind only an empty fury and seething hatred. It seems, she mused absently, that death was not entirely as frightening as once thought.
Ten failed attempts at getting this right.
Nine guardians present on the streets.
Eight different liquors on the bar.
Seven allies I left in the dust.
Six poisons left in my bag.
Five months to choose.
Four attempts at love.
Three allies trusted.
There were a million things to do. And not one had been done. When Ryodan had originally approached the idea of marriage- I had been tentative. But now, now I feel as if I agreed to an unending series of questions. Where was it to be, when was it to be? Who was invited? How long had we planned the ceremony for, and what foods would be present. What colors would we wear? How long of a dress should I have? Who would stand at my side, and who would stand at his...
"Do you think you're fooling ANYONE?"
That was what Synn had snarled at me.
But she had no idea that the one I'd been fooling most, was myself.
I felt her weight as she crawled into the bed behind me. She always thought I was sleeping, but my life had made me a light sleeper by habit. Running with the Bloodsail Crew, if you slept like the dead that's exactly how you'd end up. I'd been watching her. I noticed the changes. I didn't say anything. I knew she'd blame herself, find faults. She always did. I suddenly regretted not telling her my past, it would come in handy right now. I mean, she knew I ran with the Bloodsail, til they let me take the fall for a job. Blimy parrot-lovin' swabbies. They had left me to get picked up by the Reds (as Ari would call em) or die trying to get away. As if that weren't enough they put a price on my head.
Ariava laid a finger against the glass, tracing her reflection in slow elaborate drags. It was so short. So brown. So, not her. She looked over the image, eyes settling on the blond that was beginning to show through the roots. It gave off a soft auburn glow of deception. Daraman hadn't recognized her, Joyia hadn't either. She leaned forward inspecting the roots. She'd have to get them fixed soon.
"Fear - jealousy - money - revenge - and protecting someone you love."
---- Frederick Knott - Max Halliday, listing the five important motives for murder, Dial M for Murder (1952)
The rag that was in her hand was the cleanest thing on her person, as Fox sat on her workbench within her shop. She made quick work of cleaning her guns, her pistols were always well taken care of and last in line when she cleaned her weapons. She finished the left one, setting it aside with a soft sigh, her head leaning back to rap gently against the wall behind her. Her temper was on a simmer compared to moments ago, the embrace of silence within her shop was what she needed. Work was what she needed... to keep busy. "Idle hands," Kharris had said about Bishop Aelberyn. "Idle hands," Fox muttered, looking down at her own, still smudged with grime. Yes, Adalynn Foxtrot needed work--or to murder someone.
"Should've known better than to even try to get along with someone named Fox," I muttered, speaking my thoughts out loud. The muggyness of the day was being dragged away by the cool, dry night breeze as it rolled in off the water. I welcomed the small amount of relief from such a long day. The crisp smell of the salt water was truly a welcome change of pace from the stagnant and musty smell of the librabries and tomes I'd nearly drowned in at the academy.
I dragged a hand across my face, rubbing my tired eyes. The hammock I perched in swung lazily with the gentle rocking of the barge. I was tired, I knew I was tired but I couldn't sleep. My mind raced ceaselessly. With a grunt of annoyance I hopped out of my hammock and got into my footlooker. I grabbed another apple from my stash and closed the footlocker's lid with a loud thud. I pushed myself up on top of it, leaning back against the wall. After I inspected the apple for worm holes I took a bite. The crunch of the fruit was the only sound to be heard in the bunk room. It was quiet. It should've been a relief, but it wasn't. The whole day there had been plenty of noise while she was around.
Candy Is dandy But liquor Is quicker. -OGDEN NASH, Hard Lines
She needed to get better at lying... but brutally honest was something she did well. A train wreck someone had called her. She was a train wreck, some intricate mess that others shouldn't bother with. Some people filled the silence with empty words, she wanted silence to avoid them. To admit that she felt lost inside herself outloud? That wasn't an option.
It was unbearably hot. The harsh Durotar sun had beat down mercilessly, opressing us as if that were it's only job. Myself and a few other healers walked through the bodies, laying scattered from the last attack. We carefully wound our way through the path of destruction, looking for any survivors. They had come in on their griffins, tossing bombs upon us as if they were offering us gifts for Winter Veil. Heartless cowards. I barely even noticed the sweat beading on my skin. After the past month I feel I had seen every wound imaginable. My body felt sluggish with exhaustion but ironically, my horrid training I had endured kept my mind alert and sharp.
The building seemed to crumble in my vision, there were no servants. No men waiting at the doorway. This was not her home, this was not my home.
What a funny term. I love this, I love going here- You're gonna love it. All those terms- make no sense. People should just say: I like this plant, I enjoy going here. Or, you'll have a blast. Love ain't something that should be flung around so easy. Yea, sure- it's a word. But, if we use it so many times in a day- what meaning does it have?
The winds picked up and dragged her robes behind her, silken cloth beckoning to the rolling waves as they crashed against the iceberg. The frozen chunk of splintered ice served as a backdrop to the farce of a play that Avaraelia and Synn were acting out. Synn stares across at the Felsworn with a bit of amusement,
“May I see the letter?” Synn extended a hand and Avaraelia advanced towards her, handing her the parchment. She quickly scanned it. “Aelberyn huh, the Bishop sending mailbombs, you realize how ridiculous that sounds right?”
I landed in Dalaran and walked toward the Sewers to meet an associate of mine, one who was trying to help me salvage my shipping line. I paid no attention to the many citizens and visitors in the city. I walked slowly, my mind boggled by the past weeks events.
I had thought after the fiasco by the club Synn and I were done. How wrong I was. Now she was my wife. Even if only in Stormwind. I smirked as I recalled Sindrasa ordering us around, commanding us to let her marry us. For one with such jagged edges, her heart was in the right place.