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sekhisadventures · 1 year

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Unnatural Beings

Silvermoon City

Sunfury Spire was the center of the leadership for Quel’thalas and, indeed, all the blood elven people. It was where matters of state were decided by Lor’themar and his advisors and, more recently, his newly-married wife First Arcanist Thalyssra.

A sin’dorei noblewoman strode out of the doors that day, the sun reflecting off the golden decorations on her robes of office, as she walked down the path towards the main thoroughfare through the city. She held her head high and regal, but inside she was seething at Lor’themar’s words.

“By the Sunwell what were you thinking?! You attacked the blue dragonflight for your personal vendetta against your estranged sibling, Alalestria! The blue dragons are the guardians of magic, I don’t think I should have to explain to a MAGISTER what kind of risk your actions posed!”

Lor’themar had summoned her to the Spire after receiving word from Kalecgos about what she had done at the Azure Archives and she had dealt with his anger with nothing but icy indifference… but behind that mask she was livid. He had been there when Alleria came to visit the Sunwell, he had seen what the taint of the void had done to it just by her mere presence! Void elves were a threat to Silvermoon! They had both seen the void-born horror that had emerged from the Sunwell! Why could he not understand?!

Lor’themar had told her, in no uncertain terms, that there would be consequences if this happened again. While her late father Danaforth had been a respected magister and honored among those who stood against the Scourge when Quel’thalas had been ravaged during the Third War that honor and goodwill had limits, and angering the Aspect of Magic sorely tested them.

The Reagent Lord had stated flat out to abandon her attempts to kill her sibling. The murder of a void elf may not normally cause risk, but when committed by a noblewoman with high rank among the sin’dorei it could be the spark that ended in devastation. War between the Alliance and Horde was something that the majority of leaders on both sides wanted no more of, and each incident like this only helped to undermine the cease-fire that had been agreed upon after Sylvannas’ betrayal at the close of the Blood War.

Alalestria however, had no intentions of abandoning her path. She knew that Sam’ael that the void elves had to be dealt with. She refused to allow him allow them to risk the safety of Silvermoon City by their mere existence.

“Father, why didn’t you just cast that magic-less brat out when you had the chance?” she growled under her breath as she stalked off towards House Wintersky’s mansion. As she entered she sighed, looking towards a trophy she had gained earlier in her life. A ceremonial hand-axe. Crude by elven standards, but a mark of high honor. It was given to her for uncommon valor on the battlefield when she, along with several other magisters, went to reinforce the lines in Northrend after Sylvannas’ betrayal and the Helm of Domination’s destruction.

“Hmph… void elves, the Alliance wanted us back so badly they allowed Umbric and his mad followers in…” she snorted, “I can see the wisdom of siding with the Horde much more clearly these days. I can hardly think of a more insane decision for the leaders of the Alliance to make than allowing those… abberations to join their forces..." she sighed, walking off into the halls of the building.

The Roasted Ram, Valdrakken

Samantha Montebank looked up from her ale, rubbing at her pointed ear thoughtfully. “Hmm… my ear is itching for some reason…” she mumbled, then she shrugged and went back to her drink. She sat there with Shalandrae, the Night Elf having been helping with a recent development in their fight against Fyrakk’s minions… apparently they were making attempts to breach the Emerald Dream of all places, a thought that the druidess did not like at all.

At the table with them were Nitika and Galdia. The orc was regaling them with a tale of the recent battle she and Nightpelt had been a part of, while Nitika merely rolled her eyes at the warrior’s exaggerated movements as she described what she and her undead worg had done to the cabal of Primalists they’d uncovered.

“No really! Took his head right off in one bite! He didn’t even have time to scream, and the three behind them just saw that and…” she pressed her hand to her mouth and blew a loud wet sound, “… right in their robes! Even Nightpelt got grossed out by it!” she cackled.

Samantha snored a bit of her drink at that as Shalandrae shook her head and tutted, the woman’s antlers shining under the lamps of the tavern. “Sure Galdia… well, as long as you were able to make sure that none of them got out.” she smirked.

“OH I MADE SURE!” grinned the orc as she reached into her pouch. “I made sure to bring back proof this time… hang on, lemme find them…” she said before Nitika cringed and put her hand on the woman’s arm.

“Galdia… lets not take out a bunch of bloody earlobes on a rope in the middle of the Roasted Ram. Remember what the cook did to Grimo when he refused to put his cigar out…” she said in a warning tone.

Galdia paused and her eyes went to the hearth where a large haunch of meat was cooking guided by a woman who, at first glance, appeared to be a matronly pandaren. A look at her face however would show shining blue eyes with reptilian slits, revealing her to infact be a dragon in a visage form.

“Er… yeah, later…” grunted the orc as she settled down.

As she did however there was a sound of hoofsteps and a shape appeared in the entryway to the inn. The group looked over and Shalandrae smiled and waved, “Ah. Aziguni! Come on over.” she nodded, pleased to see the Draenei biologist. “We wanted to thank you. Those sketches you made for us actually got Dissonantia recognized in Stormwind. She caused a lot of damage there, but the guard realized she’s a serious threat and is actively watching for her now. C’mon, let me buy you a drink.”

Aziguni walked over, the draenei wearing her usual leather jerkin and green trousers, her sketchbook buckled onto her belt. Her pantera and talbuk weren’t with her, likely at the stables in town. She walked closer but rather than look happy to see the group, she looked worried.

“Ah good, you're here Shalandrae… I was hoping to find you, er… I felt I should let you know something rather… well… shocking. Prophet Velen made the official announcement a few days ago, but it hasn’t reached the Isles yet and… well…” she trailed off, rubbing her arm awkwardly.

Shalandrae looked confused, slowly rising to her feet, “Whats wrong?” she asked, “Did Velen figure out something about the Shadowflame fountain in the caverns?” she asked.

Aziguni shook her head, “No, the Prophet is still working on that… but… he recently got called back to Argus…” she murmured.

At this the group suddenly paid much closer attention.

“Argus… hey, ain’t that where the demons were from?” asked Galdia, raising her eyebrow. She’d heard a lot of stories about the defeat of the Legion after joining the Horde, eager for tales of the destruction of the army that had almost enslaved her people.

“Yeah, it is.” nodded Nitika, a shiver running through her spine. She hadn’t been there since the war against the Legion. Her thoughts went back to Krag’thar’s demise there. The old orc had been a mentor to her in Savage United, and she still missed him.

“Yes… well… at first he thought it was the broken, you know the ones that helped our forces during Operation Legionfall… but…” she winced, “This… may be difficult to believe, but that’s why I wanted to warn you.”

Outside the tavern several members of the Allance and Horde were going about their business as a new figure emerged from the portal chamber under the Seat of the Aspects and descended the stairs, walking towards the building. There were shocked gasps, a few curses, and the sounds of weapons being readied… but the newcomer ignored them.

“You see… he met with someone unexpected there…” continued Aziguni inside the inn, looking more anxious now. “I… believe that the Prophet has made the correct judgement, his reasoning is sound… but it is still difficult to imagine this is possible, you see… it concerns… um… those of us who didn’t flee Argus…”

Samantha blinked, then glanced to her side and cocked her head as the tentacles in her hair twitched, as if hearing something only she could hear… then she quickly stood and went to the bar as if to get a refill.

Shalandrae frowned, “Wait… those who didn’t flee Argus… if you don't mean the broken... then who?” she asked.

Aziguni winced, “… well...” she whispered.

Then the light from outside dimmed as a new figure entered the bar, and all heads turned.

Several people swore loudly, and a couple patrons jumped to their feet. A few others hastily pulled out their hearthstones or cast teleportation spells as the figure stood there, scanning the room.

Nitika’s jaw fell open, “… by An’she… Aziguni is this what you meant?!” she whispered as Galdia growled and stood, her hand going to the hilt of her sword.

Aziguni glanced behind her and saw who was there, then held up her hands, “Everyone please! This is why I came ahead to warn you! I know what this must seem like but…” she tried to say, then she saw Shalandrae’s expression.

Angry was too gentle a word, so were livid, furious, and rage-blinded. She snarled like a furious saberfang, her eyes were wide with shock and horror at the newcomer.

Standing there was a huge muscular man, standing about half a head higher than most human men, with black armor and two large roughly carved axes on his belt. He had cloven hooves instead of feet and a long tail, a single tendril growing down from his chin like a thin beard, and his forehead was bony and ridged. Someone who was unfamiliar with the nuances of their people might think him another Draenei… but for those who had fought the Legion he was unmistakable.

His skin was the red of heartsblood, and his eyes glowed like two burning green flames. “So… this is who you spoke of?” he asked, his voice deep and rumbling.

Shalandrae roared, loud enough to shake dust loose from the ceiling above, “EREDAR!” she bellowed in fury, charging forward as she fell to all fours and her body swelled, stony plates erupting from her skin as she transformed into a massive granite-covered grizzly bear, charging towards the figure in the door as he snarled and drew his own weapons.

“SHALANDRAE NO! GALDIA, NITIKA, HELP!” cried Aziguni as she ran forward to block the druid’s path.

The orc and tauren were confused for a moment, but they trusted the draenei after she helped them against Dissonantia. The pair rushed forward and grabbed onto Shalandrae’s transformed body.

Galdia was one of their strongest allies, and Nitika was a tauren and built strong by default. Between the two of them they forced the enraged druid to a halt as Aziguni ducked infront of her. “Shalandrae please!” she cried, “Let me explain!”

The druidess roared, literally roared, like a wild beast. All higher thought, all logic forgotten. The figure in the door was one of the man'ari eredar, the foul cousins to the draenei who had sided with the Burning Legion and allowed themselves to be transformed into demons!

She had seen them fighting alongside the Legion during the Sundering, she had seen them marching upon Mount Hyjal with their leader Archimonde, she had seen them attacking their forces in the blasted ruin that was Outland, she had fought them when the Legion returned to invade Azeroth at the Broken Isles… and she had fought them on their devastated and fel-blasted homeworld of Argus. They were the enemy. There could be no quarter given, there could be no mercy shown, all that could be done was a death as quick as possible to rid the world of their threat.

The druid roared in blind fury, trying to break free from the grip of the orc and tauren to reach her foe. The eredar man was watching her warily, his weapons not raised but still in his hands. “Aziguni, if your friend breaks free I will defend myself.” he warned.

The shock of this hit Shalandrae even through her rage. This demon knew her?! She snarled and stopped struggling, then glared at the demon before looking to Aziguni, “Explain.” she snapped.

The draenei hesitated for a moment, unsure if the druid’s fury was contained.

“NOW!” demanded Shalandrae. She had grown fond of Aziguni, even perhaps opening up to her more than she would others, especially after the loss of Teldrassil. Aziguni trying to defend one of her fel-twisted cousins cut Shalandrae to the bone. She had to know… and if she didn’t like the answer… well, she was currently a very large grizzly bear made of stone.

It would get messy.

Aziguni took a breath, “… everyone… this is Malgum… my… brother.” she said.

The group looked between them… and now the resemblance was obvious. Not largely, but in the small details. A birthmark here, a sort of shape to the face…

Shalandrae gritted her teeth, growling and pawing at the floor, “Your… but… he’s…” she tried, but right now the beast was a lot stronger than the druid. Animal form had its own complications, one of which was a much stronger fight or flight instinct, and right now it was pointing to fight with everything it had.

The eredar man, Malgum, sighed, “Aziguni, you said there were about thirteen of them. I don’t want to have to explain myself more than once.” he frowned, sheathing his weapons and folding his arms over his massive torso.

Aziguni nodded, then looked back to the others, “… please?” she asked.

Nitika sighed, “Yeah, better we get word around before the others run into… well… I’m guessing its not just your brother is it?” she asked, pulling out her gemstone from her bag and drawing the rune for “All” on the surface.

Aziguni shook her head, “No, it is not.”

The Dragon’s Hoard, an hour later.

It had taken a bit for the others to return from their tasks on the Isles, but when they got word of exactly what had happened they all made time. The Dragon’s Hoard was a second bar hidden behind the Roasted Ram with several private rooms, and right now all six members of Avalon and all seven of Savage United were inside one of those rooms.

“So… Velen met with an Eredar on Argus who wanted to… join the Draenei?” asked Nelen, a look of incredulity on his face. “That’s… I don’t mean to doubt your word Aziguni, but…”

Aziguni sighed, “Nelen, please. My people had been hunted by the man’ari for untold eons. How do you think those on Azuremyst Isle reacted to the news?” she replied, “But the Prophet believes that Arzaal and his followers truly wish to leave their past behind and seek to rejoin us now that Kil’jadeen and Archimonde are gone.”

Most of them were seated at a large table in the room, with Malgum at the far end… though Mola’raum was leaning against one of the walls (the chairs were never the right size for his lanky body,) and Shalandrae was as far away from Malgum as she could get. The druid had resumed her elven form, but every line on her face was etched with fury and she wouldn’t take her eye off the eredar man, as if waiting for a single excuse to launch herself at him.

The group looked to Malgum, “And… you really want to… what… atone? Earn forgiveness?” asked Nelen.

Malgum shook his head, “No.” he replied simply.

Shalandrae growled and began to speak, but the eredar man held up a hand, “Rather, I should say… we do not expect what is impossible.” he clarified. “We merely wish to leave what remains of the Legion and find a new path in life among our kin, to make what amends we can. But we do not expect forgiveness. None of us, even our leader Arzaal, believe we could be forgiven for all we did under Sargeras. But not all of us became man’ari willingly, and those of us who follow Arzaal are those.”

Aziguni nodded, “The day I fled Argus with the Prophet and the other Draenei, Malgum did not. He and his partner believed that they should at least hear Kil’jadeen out… after all, he was part of the Triumvirate. Most of us trusted him… even I almost hesitated…” she sighed.

Malgum nodded, “Kil’jadeen did not tell us the… details… of his pact with Sargeras until it was too late for us to refuse. By the time we learned what this would do to us, and what we would be expected to do, we were surrounded by those who had known all too well and joined willingly.” he explained, “We were given a simple choice: pledge ourselves to Sargeras or die, and when the first few refused they were cut down without hesitation. I was in Eredath, we were among the first to be turned, and then we were made to help round up the stragglers across Argus and… explain the situation to them.”

Mola’raum whistled, “Been dere mon…” he muttered.

Edwood nodded, idly chewing on… lets assume beef jerky as he added, “Aye. Me ‘n Mola’raum didn’t get no bloody choice at all. Serve Arthas or, well, serve Arthas. Even if we refused he’d just reach into our heads ‘n make us do it.”

Dareley frowned, “Eh… I cannae say I’m comfortable with it, but th’ Light teaches us all deserve a chance at redemption. Still, this is a lot o’ penance we’re talkin’.” he nodded, the paladin wanting to believe that even a demon could actually seek atonement.

There was a growl from behind them and Shalandrae stalked through the room. She’d made herself listen, and she wanted to believe in Aziguni, but… an eredar. She had lost so much to the Legion, her people had suffered so much from their actions.

She leaned onto the table, pushing Grimo out of the way as the goblin stumbled back. Normally Grimo would have snapped at her, but he could tell just how close Shalandrae was to losing control. The goblin immediately cleared back, standing near Nitika if only to have someone large to duck behind if needed.

“How many.” she asked. “I want you to tell me, right now. You speak of coming back to rejoin the Draenei, of being part of the Alliance. I want to know, right now, how many worlds died because of you? How many planets did you burn for them?” she hissed, her good eye boring a hole in him as her fingernails seemed to lengthen and sharpen.

“… I don’t know.” he replied with a shrug.

“How can you not know?!” she demanded.

He looked back at her, meeting her gaze directly, “After the thirtieth, I stopped counting. It did not seem to be worth knowing anymore. We did as Kil’jadeen told us or we would die and be fuel for the soul furnaces, a fate worse than death. I had to shut my mind to it to survive.” he replied, standing up as she did as well, the two glaring at each other.

“What do you want me to say druid? That I am sorry? That the screams of the children I slaughtered with my bare hands haunts me to this day? That I can still remember all the civilizations we burned to ashes and all that was lost in Sargeras’ crusade to remake creation in his image?” he asked, “They are dead, we are not. All we can do is continue on, the alternative is throwing ourselves upon our weapons.”

“You are sorry.” said a small voice.

All the heads in the room turned to see Sekhi peering over the table, her ears twitching.

“I can hear your song. You’re angry, you’ve been hurtin’ for a long, long time… but ya do remember 'em. Ya don’t wanna, but ya do. Ya just made yourself forget so ya wouldn’t go crazy.” she nodded, idly toying with her flute in her hands. The songs in here were all angry, scared, and hurting now… she rather wanted to be somewhere else.

Malgum raised his eyebrow at her as Aziguni patted his arm and said, “I’ll explain later.”

Perhaps that’s what did it. That familiar touch, that simple act of compassion… to one of the man’ari.

Shalandrae shook her head, then turned on her heel and walked quickly to the exit.

“Shalandrae! Wait please!” called Aziguni, but the druid ignored her. She pushed the door open and stormed out. Aziguni grimaced, looking around, then the sound of her hooves filled the room as she rushed out after the druid.

She found her by the edge of the city where the waterfalls ran down into the river separating Thaldraszus from the Ohn’ahran Plains. “Shalandrae!” she called out, “Please… just let me…”

Shalandrae held up her hand, the druid sitting on the ground in her elven form. “Don’t. Just don’t.” she snapped. “Do you have any idea what it was like seeing one of THEM walk into the Ram?!”

Aziguni stumbled to a halt, the draenei woman biting her lip nervously. “I would imagine very similar to how we felt seeing several dozen arrive at the Exodar…” she mumbled.

“Then you should have understood better. You could have sent a letter ahead, you could have had him wait until we’d had time to figure out if Velen had gone insane or not.” she growled, looking back over her shoulder.

Aziguni frowned, “Shalandrae… if you would just…” she protested.

The druid leapt to her feet and turned on her, “JUST WHAT AZIGUNI?!” she demanded, “Forget how many friends I lost to the Burning Legion?! Forget that my whole way of life as a child was irreparably destroyed by them?! I awoke as a druid to fight the Legion when they laid siege to Kalimdor during the Third War! I saw Archimonde when I stood with Shan’do Stormrage at Mount Hyjal!” she threw up her arms, “But now we’re just expected to pretend none of that matters because a group of them feel bad about what they did?! HOW THE FEL COULD YOU BE ALRIGHT WITH THIS?! If anything your people suffered MORE than mine!”

Aziguni took a deep breath and set her jaw, then replied, “Because ever since I left Argus, I thought my brother was dead.” she replied, “I thought that he would have refused Kil’jadeen’s offer and died for it… but finding out he didn’t... I want to believe he could still be the man I remember from before the fall.”

The two stared at each other for a long moment, then Aziguni said, “… perhaps I should go. You are right Shalandrae, we both need time to deal with our emotions right now. I should leave before one of us says something we will regret.”

Shalandrae didn’t reply, though her expression said an entire novel’s worth of words as she turned and spread her arms wide, then jumped off the ledge overlooking the waterfall. A moment later a crow with purple feathers soared upwards, flapping it’s wings as it gained height above the city.

As soon as Aziguni was sure she was gone the draenei let out a long slow breath, taking her sketchbook off her belt and opening it.

There, on the page, was the face of the druid who had just been yelling at her. A confident smile on the woman’s features drawn in pencil. Two small wet spots appeared on the page… yet there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky.

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