World of Warcraft®

Irilin gazed at the key in his hand. He knew what it was, and he knew what it meant.

And he had never felt so much rage. Rage which merely settled over his heart, and kept itself from view.

The unmarked box would serve another purpose. He slid the ring off his finger and unceremoniously dropped it into the box. He found another ring, and some antique cufflinks, and dropped them in as well. He sealed it, and addressed it to the estate. When he dropped it off to the postmaster, he informed him that any mail from that sender should be returned immediately.

Irilin returned to the Lodge, nodding to Thaettir as he made his way down to the lower levels, and his room. Fortunately, his most important posessions had been kept here. He gazed out the window as a wild thunderstorm began to pass over Thunder Bluff.

He nodded in deference to the poetic justice of the storm.

He stared down at the unmarked box, brought to the door by the postmaster and received by himself, no servant left to do such things. Assuming it was something to do with the play he retired to his study. As he sat at his desk he started to open the box.

Bright eyes peered upon the box's contents, his breath catching in his chest. He clenched his teeth as he reached out for the rings and the cuff links, holding the silver and gold in his hands. The metal was cold, and uncaring. Frantically he searched the box for a note, a sign, something. But there was nothing. The box fell with a soft thud upon the table.

He held up the rings, each one in turn and remembered the promises that were made, the hope that they brought. What had happened that he was so scorned? His jaw was clenched so tight that his teeth began to squeak.

He fumbled through his desk frantically, searching for something, for a chain. The rings were slid along the length of the silver chain which was then affixed around his neck. The cuff links were tucked into his pocket.

Half expecting to see someone ready to attend him he looked up and around the room, the silence was deafening. Tears welled up in his eyes as he placed his hand upon the rings. No one would come. He knew this now, and the weight of this realization was crushing.

He stood slowly, taking one last look upon the estate, knowing it would be some time before he saw it again, but that was not the realization that hurt him. No. It was the realization of his selfishness and what it might cost him.

With great resolve and determination he set out from Silvermoon. What had he done? He had fired Yuuko, and sold her into slavery. Could Irilin have been upset about this? No. He told himself. Yuuko had tried to kill Irilin, and Irilin knew that she was held.

No. It was something else. He ran his hands through his hair and thought carefully about his recent actions. He had not broken his vows, nor his promises. Why then? Why was he to be scorned with so little regard or care for his well being?

Trenetir retraced steps that he took so long ago, to places where he thought he might find his errant husband. First he went to the south, to the moonwell, but there he received no relief. His desperation was great as he started to the north, perhaps at the grave he would find Irilin.

There was nothing but emptiness, but the silence that was threatening to weigh him down, to crush him. He lost it again, the tears came unwillingly now, and there was little that he could do to stop them. They soaked his face with frustration and loss.

Trenetir fought to calm himself as he stood, taking one last look at the ocean before he departed.

The elf had been in his rooms for far long than most would have expected. He emerged rarely, to seek out some food from the vendors on the second rise, but would always return just as quickly. Though he would often go out hidden from sight, his movement through the air was, at least, enough for Thaettir not to worry that a dead elf rested in the living spaces.

He knew little of the elf, save that he was the solitary sort, and a rather gifted writer, if the volumes on the shelves of the Homeland's library were any indication. They had never spoken extensively, but that was no bother to Thaettir: the bonds of this family were still as strong as the day he had become a part of it.

Thaettir took to his daily chores to keep the Lodge tidy. Though hardly anyone resided in the living spaces, there were always there to welcome anyone who was part of the family that was Homeland. Strangers almost never entered the lodge unless they were a friend of someone in the family. This made cleaning relatively easy, and Thaettir hummed gently as he ran a straw broom across the wooden floors of the main hall.

When the shadow darkened the doorway of the Lodge, Thaettir looked up to find a bedraggled elf. With a slight crease in his brow, he set down his broom and approached the stranger, ready to eject him from the premises if necessary.

The trek to Thunder Bluff had been uneventful, and now he stood before the Homeland Lodge, looking very much like something the cat dragged in: he hadn't slept, his eyes red, both from his fear and from his frustration. He looked across at the Tauren that blocked his path, "I am here to see my husband." He said in as commanding a voice as he could muster but it cracked with doubt.

The lodge was the last place that he could think of. And if Irilin were here, perhaps it was too late. He repeated himself, "My husband, Irilin Duskwhisper. I am here to see him." He clenched his teeth. He was armored still and a hand rested upon the hilt of his blade out of habit more than anything.

Trenetir awoke with a start, breathing heavily, panicked. He could hear footsteps, the creak of rope on wood, the sound of voices. He was not in the room he shared with Irilin, nor the cell of a room that he had inhabited before. No, he was sitting awkwardly on a hammock that passed for a bed at the inn in Thunder Bluff.

He clenched and unclenched his jaw, replaying the two conversations of the day before in his mind.

"He has made it quite clear that he does not wish to see you." Thaettir's words cut slowly, piercing his heart. He thought he would bleed out. There in the early morning he reached for his chest and looked down at his hand, surprised to see that it was not soaked with blood.

---

"It was more than a week ago." The Bluffwatcher said, "He said nothing before he stepped off, the fall was too far," The Tauren peered at Trenetir, "Are you his kin? He's not been claimed yet."

Trenetir nodded and was handed a small bundle, "These are his effects. We've made arrangements for the pyre to send him to the spirits in two days. His body has rested here long enough."

He shook his head, "No. I...I will take care of things." The Bluffwatcher seemed inclined to accept this. "He should be buried with his father."

The smell of rot was already there despite the efforts to slow the process of decay. How could it not be? His nose wrinkled but he forced himself to look upon the waxen form of his former employee.

The torment threatened to overcome him as he saw Dellis not as he was now, lifeless, but instead as he was, a youthful boy, following Ferris around the estate. A faint smile overtook his features, his hand reaching out to grip Dellis' lifeless hand. "You were always underfoot, even as a child. Ferris didn't know what to do with you, and it seems that .." he gulped, the emotion finally hitting him. His failure finally hitting him, "I didn't either."

He closed his eyes, the tears of regret, of pain, of sorrow overcoming him. He did nothing to hide them or to choke them back. "Ferris I'm sorry."

The Bluffwatchers were true to their word, and saw that the body was taken to Silvemoon City, where it would be laid to rest along side his father. Once inside the city, wards were established, to further slow the decay process.

Trenetir sat down at his desk and penned four letters, each identical. They would come or they wouldn't.

In memorium
The life of Dellis Larcentius
Son of Ferris and Celestine Larcentius
Will be celebrated
this coming seventh day
at five evening bells
Outside Silvermoon City
May the blood bless him

There were none left to deliver them, so he penned the addressees names himself leaving the return sender blank:

Irilin Duskwhisper
Koudo Belore'Alah
Kamdrin Shadowsun
Yuuko Raradien care of Gar'mak

The morning rays of the rising sun struck her dull gray armor, the wind from the sea stirring her hair ever so slightly. She didn’t move except for the slow rise of her chest and an occasional blink. In one hand she held a beautifully crafted flute, the other a letter. She faced the huge expanse of the ocean as if searching for answers. Slowly, Koudo crumpled to the ground unable to contain her grief any more. She held the flute to her chest as she sobbed quietly, repeating to herself “It’s my fault”

Thaettir had done much to allow Irilin his solitude. It wasn't a surprise when the unmarked letter made its way to him--the lodgekeeper would never open mail before conveying it to its recipient.

Too little, too late.

He would not give Trenetir the satisfaction of his showing up. At least, he would not allow Trenetir to think he had that satisfaction.

The knock at the door was a welcome relief. Kamdrin pushed her chair back, away from her desk and the tedious ledgers she didn’t want to deal with anyway. She stood and made her way towards the gallery’s entrance and past the newest consignment piece, a bronze sculpture of a pair of night elf lovers embracing.

Brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes, she opened the door and smiled. The man standing outside seemed to forget what he was doing there. After a few minutes of awkward silence Kamdrin pointed at the envelope he was holding.

“Is that for me?”

Still dumbstruck, he nodded as he pushed the envelope toward her. She murmured something about being right back as she turned and strode to her desk. Sliding open the top drawer, she pulled out a coin purse. She smiled again as she exchanged a few coins for the message. As she shut the door, the man still stood on the steps, staring at her.

Curiously, she eyed the lack of return address before picking up a small silver letter opener and sliding it along the edge of the envelope. Her gloved fingers pulled out the piece of paper and slowly unfolded it. A small gasp escaped her lips as her eyes widened.

“Oh! Oh dear!”

Quickly, she closed the ledgers, leaving them for another time. She grabbed her shawl off the back of the chair and hurriedly set the sign in the window to ‘closed’ before exiting her gallery. Her only thought was to find her friend, Koudo.

Alone, high within a decrepit tower, a corpse sat in silence. Unmoving. Unbreathing. Eyes that were once pretty and sparkled such that they were said to be full of life now only stared unblinking at the open book before her, dead and faded of color.

She sat on the floor, legs folded, book in lap, head just beneath the high window sill. Her once vibrant golden hair that flowed in the wind like so many strands of silk were now stiff and faded. Her features once lovely now gaunt and drained of all emotion. Her hair stood on end lending her the appearance of a risen apparition. A banshee.

Candles in the candelabra near her flickered, dancing agitated shadows against the walls. A new shadow appeared from the darkness of the open doorway. Small and vaguely humanoid, the shadow produced an envelope and flipped it across the worn and warped floorboards to the feet of the corpse.

The corpse drew in a long deep dry breath. The jaw worked. Her features remained placid while her voice, raspy and nearly ethereal, betrayed a similar lack of emotion. "Since when do you courier for the hag?"

The shadow stepped back. A mere flicker of light betraying her presence. "I do as Anguish requires."

Cold eyes drifted from the book to the envelope on the floor. Bone joints popped and cracked as the corpse moved to retrieve it. Thin clawed fingers delicately extracted the letter, opened it and she read.

"Interesting." If death could find anything interesting. "Why bring me this?" The dead eyes stared over the letter.

"Anguish no longer holds interest."

The corpse noded. Vertebral joints popping. "Mm. No longer her problem." Thin fingers refolded the page, sliding it back into its envelope. The goblin was gone, she could tell. She had a sense for things that dwelt in darkness. Things born of darkness. Hands that appeared so fragile carefully closed the book in her lap, the envelope protruding from between the pages.

She wondered how her willful subject would react to such news. Moreover she wondered how she might perform after so many long weeks of ...testing. If she knew the mind of her orcish cohort, then the hag would be correct. This experiment had largely been a failure. The blood elf was simply too willful, the moment it seemed she was on the cusp of finally breaking the creature would rebound. It was... unnatural.

Still, her tests had not been for nothing. Bony joints popped and crackled as the corpse stood, book and letter in hand. The thin remnants of an old night dress draped over her. The light of the candles passed easily through, casting shadows that obscure the desiccated flesh beneath. She slid into a darker set of robes that denoted her station as a Priestess of the Forgotten Shadow. Robes obviously fashioned to fit her new ...figure.

"Time to stir the creature."

Her mind was once more hers again, her head ached from the strain, fighting against the dreadful attacks was difficult. The ongoing ordeal was taxing her greatly, she had counted the days, for three days she was in darkness unable to control her actions, but on the third, she was able to once more be herself. At first she hid this, but it didn’t take long for the hag to see through her. Today she was herself.

Her heart sank; she could hear the footsteps approaching.

A bony hand pushed opened the chamber door.

It was quiet inside. Recent rains over the glades washed the ruins clean as they will ever be, all things considered. The entrance to he laboratory lay hidden within the ruins of noble home. A structure she knew in life. The memories remained though their emotions had long faded. She had no real tie to the structure. It was simply a familiar place and rather convenient. Down a twisting set of stone steps, through a short maze of dank corridors, and she was there. A family crypt turned laboratory.

There was no need for candles down here. Her eyes never really saw well enough, dead and decaying as they were, and so she'd learned since being risen and forsaken by the light to trust in the shadow. In time it replaced most of her sight. Colors were muted or nonexistent, which was just as well. Color had little meaning these days, other than to mark distinctions. Little else.

The darkly robed corpse shambled across the crypt chamber to a flat wooden table. Strapped to that table was her latest test subject. An elf. Blood elf to be precise. Bound securely at the wrists, ankles, waist and neck, the former slave now test subject had little room to move and little chance of escape.

"Hmm." The corpse considered her subject, bound naked to the table for so many days. "You... were to be... my greatest accomplishment." Her voice dry and hoarse, she spoke lethargically with almost a poignant pathos. A bony finger glided over the elf's brow.

"What ...is it that... makes you resist me so? I wonder." The bony claw sharply rapped the elf's forehead.

"No matter. Our work here is finished." The corpse strolled away from the elf to a long table adjacent.

"You see. The ...hag... is finished with you." Dead emotionless faded eye turned to consider the elf. The woman blinked in the darkness. Awake and aware, yet had little to say. Defiant to the end.

The corpse set down the book with the envelope and pulled free a long wicked looking knife. "And when the hag... is finished... well, that usually means I make .... them... disappear." She strolled back to the elf and hovered over the table, long knife in hand held to make a display of it. She gently touched the elf with the cool flat side as she spoke.

"I would usually ...slice... the neck just so, and... wait for the heart to finish... the rest. I'd then cut... along the joints, separating... the body into more... manageable ...segments. The murloc... of Lordamere Lake or ...the beasts of Fenris Isle... they usually take care of the rest." She held the blade close to her own face.

"But I have ...a better... idea for you."

She would test this one. All of her hard work torturing her body and mind, breaking her down to build her back up and breaking her down again, and again... it all had to amount to something. It couldn't have all just failed. That would mean that she, herself, would be a failure and that was something she would not accept.

Plans fail. Experiments fail. She does not fail. She succeeded somewhere with this one, she knew it, but how was yet to be discovered.

The elf was healthy, but so many days strapped to the table would leave her weak. Weak enough for the banshee to make an escape.

"Look ...to the book I left... on the table. Take the envelope. Leave the book. Try not to ...get yourself killed... along the way."

The corpse quickly sliced through the bindings of her left wrist and drove the knife point into the wood near her left ear. She turned and faster than one might have guessed the banshee drifted toward the chamber door.

Her raspy dry voice now carried a husky tone as she made for her exit. "We... will... meet... again."

Yuuko wasted no time; she quickly grabbed the knife, cutting through the remaining binds and sat on the edge of the table massaging her wrists. Her mind raced on why the dreaded cadaver had allowed her, her freedom. She scooted of the table gasping as she caught a splinter in her, well you know where. Wrinkling her nose she quickly pulled it out and made her way to the table where the book rested. Her body shook as muscles that hadn’t been used in days screamed out in protest.

Draped over the back of a chair was her robe she had come with so many days prior. She quickly donned it. Her jittery hands moved to the book as she curiously pulled the envelope from its bindings. The letter within glowed an eerie green as the light from her eyes exposed the handsome penmanship. She read it twice, then three times. She didn’t know she had tears left, but they flowed and didn’t stop.

Slowly she turned to where the forsaken had left. Her mind reeled as her hand obediently put the book down. It bothered her fiercely that something was still forcing her will do things she wished not to. Concealing the blade, she left the laboratory and to what lay beyond.

Among the scattered scratching that engulfed the top of the desk in his small room, a piece of parchment with a single sonnet slowly sank to the bottom as more paper layered on top of it...

I can't believe I ever loved him. How
Could I have been so blind? I've known true love,
And thinking change could equal that, I now
Can see, was foolish. Heart and soul above
The mind has once again destroyed me. All
I thought I wanted was a life where more
Than solitude awaited me. To fall
For such delusions opens up the door
To disappointment. Thus, I'm left alone
To reminisce of happy times destroyed
Before their prime. And if I'd only known
That sorrow was my one true love, this void
Inside might never have been filled and drained
This way: upturned on cloths forever stained...

Trenetir looked around at the ladies who had showed up: Koudo, Kamdrin, and Yuuko. He continued to look around hoping that Irilin would show up, if not for him but for Dellis.

Kamdrin looks somber as she slowly walks up to Trenetir.

Trenetir glanced up from his silence at the sound of footsteps. He nodded slowly to Kamdrin.

Kamdrin doesn't say anything as it would be unseemly to do so. She reaches over and squeezes Koudo's hand when she walks up. Koudo shakes her head and just stares at the ground.

Trenetir looked around as if expecting another, he could not hide the look in his eyes, was it hopeful? "Thank you ladies." He said softly, realizing that Yuuko was there too. He pulled out a piece of parchment, worn and folded several times. He opened it and looked to the others, "We'll start if you're ready."

The ladies nodded, one fainter than the other.

Trenetir kept looking around again, his face falling slightly. He looks down at the paper, "I have known... I knew... Dellis Larcentius since he was a child, since his father came into my service." His voice was soft and did not command attention. "He ....he was a good man, a dutiful man... he... " Trenetir looked to the paper, and read from it.

Koudo remains quiet, her eyes downcast

"Dellis Larcentius was one of the most honorable men that I had the privilege to know.He did not deserve any of the pain that was brought upon him in his recent months." He quietly added, "No one does.No one deserves that."

Kamdrin frowns slightly.

Trenetir folded up the paper and tucked it away, "I regret much in my life, letting down one that I was supposed to look after as family... "He gulped hard, "I failed him." He looked to the ladies, "Would ..would..any of you like to say something about Dellis?"

Koudo speaks quietly "I feel he was always there and I didn't know it."

Kamdrin nods. "I did not know him well or long, but I do know that he seemed loyal and..." She looks to Koudo with a small smile. "He was caring."

Trenetir peered back at Yuuko.

Yuuko sings softly, "Light of the well did you hear my plea?, Did you enter me, abound with me and did you set me free? The future was yours to light my path; I followed to win this life’s footrace... Light of the well did you hear my plea?, Did you enter me, abound with me and did you set me free? " As she finished she turned and walked away.

Kamdrin listens to the woman sing and watched with curiosity as she walks away.

Trenetir felt a deep pang as the song echoed in his head. He looked down at the grave, "I am sorry Dellis, my apology comes too late and does no good, you will not hear it, and I let you down. But I hope...." He looked down at the grave, "I ..."

Koudo pulls out some sheet music and looks at it, she approaches the grave slowly. She whispers "The song will never be played, but you finished the last stanza, it was titled 'Breaking Free'" She lays the music down on the grave and steps away "I am sorry Dellis. It was my fault"

Trenetir turned and looked to Kamdrin and Koudo. "Thank you for coming. I know he... would have been glad that you were here."

Kamdrin inclines her head in a polite nod at Trenetir. "Of course."

Koudo remains quiet.

Trenetir ran his hands through his hair, and clenched and unclenched his teeth, "I won't keep you any longer."

Koudo looks back at the grave "He will always live in my heart"

Kamdrin glances at Trenetir. "Will you be...all right?"

Trenetir shook his head, "That doesn't matter now."

"But of course it does."

Trenetir looked back to the grave, "No, it doesn't. The time for my selfishness is not now."

Kamdrin parts her lips as if to speak, but decides now is not the time. She glances toward Koudo.

Koudo turns slowly looking back whence she came her voice is quiet "Mr. Duskwhiper" her voice cracks "Trenetir your slate is clean, what you do now with your life is an open book. How you write the first pages is now up to you"

Kamdrin gives Trenetir a half smile and follows Koudo.

Trenetir could not believe what he just heard. He stared agape as the women walked away. "She forgave me." He said to himself, moving to kneel before the grave.

He sits around the meager camp fire, still he had not been home, what home was there to return to? He had known love. He had known hope. And now these things were gone. His bright green gaze was lost in the flames of the fire.

---

Four.

That is the number of months that I knew happiness. True, unwavering, unending happiness. It would seem that is all that I was to be afforded.

I could count the months before, but he was not really mine then, and even now... I realize... he wasn't ever mine. I gave him all that I had, my home, my life, my love.

I remember something that was said to me before, like from a dream. "When you love someone, you love all of them, the good -and- the bad."

It was all a lie.

I loved... no I love him, but it didn't matter. He could not forgive me, he could not forgive my mistakes.

What was the point? To make me suffer?To see that I hurt?

I love him still.