Seasons of Change ((Story-ish?))

The Broken attendant was preparing a fresh bowl of water, and another bowl of fresh herbs, placing it on the ledge of the table where the body he worked on was laid upon. He continued with his work while he waited for the group led by Talven to come by. The great sabercat, and the owl waited as well, though with barely contained impatience. He could scarcely blame them. Had they not been so well-behaved, he would have refused their presence in such delicate work. Their presence was nice to have for such a morbid task that he had to carry out.

He himself had to take a draught of water, at least if he were to get on with his work, and speak to his visitors. He took out the waterskin from his belt, and took several gulps of the liquid within. The attendant capped his waterskin, and replaced it on his belt. He looked at the bowl of water again, and placed the herbs into the bowl. The Broken waved a hand over it as he quietly chanted a spell. A light aqua stream of energy wreathed itself around his hand before cascading down into the bowl, and imbuing it with energy. He would have to let the herbs steep into the waters before using the concoction.

The Broken noticed that the sabercat, and the owl perk up, mincing around the table corner eagerly. He then heard the footsteps of the visitors finally reach him, and the attendant turned around to greet the group of Elves. “Captain, and Marbeth, it is good to see you in fine health,” he said to them. He looked at the warden and druid warmly, before asking Talven, “Am I right to presume these two are…?”

“Ah, yes,” Talven said. The demon hunter gesticulated between the Night Elven couple and the Broken. “This is Seer Aaranu, one of our resident Ashtongue shaman, and primary caretaker of the fallen. Aaranu, this is Valorra Silverleaf, and Zherrus Stormchaser: warden, and druid respectively as well as parents to Jaou.."

The couple bowed to Aaranu, who returned the gesture. "Thank you, for your work," Valorra said.

"Yes, thank you, for looking after our son's remains," Zherrus added. "I hope Jaou's companions haven't inconvenienced you during this."

The Broken let out a chuckle, and shook both his head and hand at the druid. “They were not an inconvenience at all. Their time here has given me want for my own stalwart animal companion,” Aaranu said. “But let us set that aside, you did not come to hear an old man prattle on.”

Aaranu stepped aside, and went to the other side of the table. Valorra clenched her jaw, and Zherrus stood tense. There laid the corpse of Jaou: ashen, cold, and lifeless.


—


There was nothing. No sound, no sight, no feeling. There was no space, no time. It was just emptiness. There was no telling how long this state persisted, but at some point, there was a very faint hint of floating lights. Dim as their sparkles were, they appeared as faded stars in the darkness. Just as fleeting as their nature, the sparkles faded as the darkness returned.

“...get …ther …ake …”

There was then a sound. It was indistinct, almost on the edge of hearing. As the immeasurable time passed, the sound grew louder, and more persistent.

“Hey… ere...”

Ugh… w-what?

“...up… Will you just wake up?!”

Soon the darkness made way for a dizzying tumult of lights and colours. There was nothing that could have been done to abate the brightness. As the luminosity died down, the images became clearer.

Where am I…? This isn’t… This doesn’t feel right.

Jaou looked down to his body, and what he saw was indeed his body, but he appeared whole as his spirit previously appeared in the past under different circumstances; no prosthetic, no scars. This circumstance, however, was unlike what he had previously experienced. He appeared even more spectral, and ghostly than before. Jaou looked around his surroundings, and found an extraordinary sight.

Against a dark backdrop were streams of different coloured energies winding and wending through the expanse; some of the colours appeared like long and endless streams, others like nebulous clouds. There were also spheres of light, appearing like ephemeral shooting stars, glittering through the gaps of darkness. Though it shared some similarities to the celestial skies at night, this was like no other environment that Jaou had ever seen.

“What is this place?” Jaou asked himself aloud, if only to see if his senses were still with him.

“Ah, now you’re awake. I’ve been waiting for a while now,” a voice answered back, and it was a voice that was almost uncomfortably close to him.

Jaou looked around for the source of the voice, and was shocked when he was met with a strange being. It was ethereal and spectral just as Jaou was, but it appeared to be a demonic being. Its features were strange, and it was as if this being was a conglomeration of demons. Its face was skeletal, and hound-like with forward curving horns, the build of its body was similar to other sapient demons, and it had a leonine tail. It had a mane of fur and spikes, and was covered asymmetrically in fur on some patches of its body, and scaly skin on other sections. It had clawed hands that appeared slightly different from one another, and one of its digitigrade feet terminated in claws, while the other ended in a hoof.

Jaou regarded this entity pensively, but he somehow felt like he knew it. His suspicions grew when he noticed that both of their ghostly auras seemed to intermingle with each other. “Vor’Falo, is that you?”

The demon looked curiously at Jaou, and replied in a somewhat annoyed, yet puzzled tone, “Who else would it be?”

Jaou seemed incredulous at the casual tone of Vor’Falo. “You look very different from any appearances you’ve made in my mind. How was I supposed to have recognized you?”

Vor’Falo looked down at his body, inspecting his entire being. “Is this what I’m supposed to look like? I knew I was a mix of various demonic essences, but this is even beyond what my expectations were.” Out of curiosity, Vor’Falo pawed at his face, though he quickly realized the effort was in vain. Somehow there was a look of annoyance on his boney visage, and then he suddenly asked Jaou, “What does my face look like?”

The question at first seemed perplexing to Jaou, but given that they were now able to perceive what the true appearance of his inner demon looked like, it then made sense that Vor’Falo would be curious about the true nature of his being. “Uh… you have horns, and a mane, and your face looks more like a wolf’s skull,” replied Jaou.

“I see, it sounds like a form of fel hound.”

“F-fel hound…? Living inside of me?” Jaou sputtered out.

“Oh, right, traumatic past experiences with them,” Vor’Falo said, scratching the back of his head. An odd gesture for one such as him, and stranger still was his considerate words. Perhaps some of Jaou’s mannerisms were rubbing off on the demonic being.

“No… no, it’s fine, I’m not as bothered by them as before,” Jaou said, shaking his head. “It’s just a little ironic, that’s all.”

“Perhaps it is. And considering our circumstances, this may be one of the few places I get to see my true self. I would love to have a mirror here!”

“Speaking of, where are we?” Jaou asked, as he looked around their environs again. “The last thing I remember was…” Jaou thought to himself for a moment, trying to navigate through his memories, muddled like a silty river as they were. “We were fighting a man’ari Eredar, and she… she killed me, us, didn’t she? So, we’re dead? I’ve seen the Veil before, once, that was the path to death, but this isn’t at all like that.”

“Yes, we are indeed dead. And this?” Vor’Falo confirmed the question, gesturing to the space around him. “No, this is not the Shadowlands, this is the Twisting Nether.”

Jaou appeared surprised at the answer, and looked at the streams and sparks of energy. “It’s different from what I saw in Outland, or on Mardum; there are some similarities, visually speaking, but there are more differences than there are similarities.”

“When worlds are on the edge, or inside of the Twisting Nether in the Great Dark, there has to be a material representation for its chaos when you view it as the space beyond the atmosphere. It is also not the whole of it, just a mere glimpse,” Vor’Falo explained. “When you are in the actual plane of the Twisting Nether, how one perceives it will be different from another being seeing the same space. The only consistency is if there is a world, or object that natively exists here, then you will be able to see it the same way. The space around these objects will always be different from one mind to the next.”

This information was enlightening to the Night Elf. Jaou had never thought to ask about the nature of the Twisting Nether beyond the basic principles, and what he did need to know. The more he thought about it though, the more he wondered why he was there with Vor’Falo.

“I know demons slain outside of the Twisting Nether will have their souls sent back here,” Jaou said, gesturing a hand to his chin in thought. “But why am I here instead of passing on, through the Veil?”

Vor’Falo appeared thoughtful for a moment. He then shook his head, shrugged, and replied, “Maybe you should ask your Illidari friends, when we return?”


—


Valorra, and Zherrus took stock of Jaou’s condition for a moment. He was laid bare upon the table surface, with only a blanket to cover him, which was partially pulled back. His body, and prosthetic were whole, save for two visible injuries. His right eye was covered with a cotton gauze cloth to cover the worst of the wound. The other injury was the laceration across Jaou’s neck. The cut was clean, wide, and deep enough to sever the jugular, carotid, and the trachea, and there were dark marks that followed along small lengths of his blood vessels that seemed to radiate from the laceration. If the injury to his eye did not kill him, his death would have been quick after sustaining such a wound to the neck.

Jaou was their second child lost, but they were never able to see Thelsion, their youngest, off until some time after his death. This time it was different, he was in front of them, and there was no doubt that he was dead. Valorra appeared to be sombre at the sight. Zherrus appeared to be mournful as well, but there was then a thoughtfulness that appeared across his features.

This was not a common occurrence for the Illidari to see. It was rare that family would come visit the deceased that had numbered amongst their group. Many had no family left that they knew of, and many of those that did were not necessarily on the best of terms with their kin.

Breaking the silence, Aaranu asked Valorra, and Zherrus, “Would you like a moment alone with him? We can–”

Valorra shook her head immediately. “Thank you for your consideration, Aaranu, but Zherrus, and I had set out to this place to learn about his death,” the warden stated. “With everyone here, we would like to take the opportunity to do just that, if time allows for it. Mourning can come at a later time.”

Aaranu nodded, and smiled kindly at Valorra. “Of course, I can speak with both of you more on the matter,”

“That’s why we’re all here,” Talven declared. “Marbeth, and I had carved out time for this. It’s the least we can do.” Marbeth nodded in agreement, though both of the demon hunter’s eyeless gazes then fell upon Zherrus.

The druid seemed deep in thought, as he carefully looked over Jaou’s body from his vantage point. Zherrus’ brow furrowed, and he rested his chin in his hand. There was something peculiar that he sensed about Jaou’s body, and he had noticed it amongst some of the other cadavers earlier. “Hmm, he exhibits it too,” Zherrus mumbled aloud, seemingly to himself.

“What was that you said, Zherrus?” Talven asked of the druid, though with more of a curious tone than that of puzzlement.

Zherrus did not seem to take notice of the question. Valorra, also curious of his words, looked at her mate expecting him to answer at some point, but she had a feeling he would require some encouragement. When it became apparent that the druid was still stuck in his own thoughts, Valorra slapped the back of her gloves hand against his arm.

The druid was immediately shaken out of his thoughts. “Huh? Oh, I’m sorry, did you guys say something?” he asked, sincerely confused.

“Talven asked about what you were saying,” said Valorra in a matter-of-factly manner, as she crossed her arms. “You were just lost in your mind.”

Zherrus looked sheepish at the observation, to which Talven chuckled. “Some things never change, eh?” he said to the warden, who shrugged with resignation, and a smile.

The druid rubbed the back of his head, and said, “A lingering bad habit.” Zherrus then stood up straight, and looked back at Jaou. “I was just ruminating on his, and those of the other two deceased’s bodies. As I said before, they’re lifeless, but there is no decomposition taking place.” Zherrus then turned to look back at one of the corpses they had passed by, and then back to Jaou’s body. “I can even sense regeneration coming from the others that aren’t in a state of decay, just not his. Out of curiosity, have you done anything to their bodies to halt, and reverse the decay?”

“We haven’t, no. This is an uncommon… consequence of being a demon hunter,” Talven began explaining. “Occasionally as a demon hunter’s abilities develop, they may acquire qualities that turn their souls demonic in nature, and we all know what happens to a demon’s soul when they’re killed outside of the Twisting Nether.”

“Their souls return to the Twisting Nether. So you’re suggesting that Jaou’s own soul is now demonic, and his soul was returned there as well?” asked Valorra, almost incredulous at the implications of this discussion.

“There are certain aspects of the state of his body that place this outcome as our most likely one,” Marbeth answered in a matter-of-factly manner. “Most demon hunters die, and their bodies undergo the same death as other mortal beings. From the time I had retrieved his body from the field to the present he hadn’t shown any signs of rigour, or decomposition; his body remains the same as I had first seen him.”

Valorra looked solemn, but curious, and hopeful. “What happens to the demon hunter souls that are returned to the Nether, then?”

“Provided that their bodies are able to recover from the injuries they sustained, their souls may return to their body. Even fatal injuries can be overcome by the accelerated regeneration that is developed by many demon hunters,” Talven went on to explain, and looked at the deceased elf before them. “I, like you, only just arrived here, so I’m still being appraised of the details.”

“His body seems primed to recover, but we were informed by Aaranu that there’s something that’s preventing the healing,” Marbeth added. “He’s been investigating it, but I figured that an explanation can wait for your arrival.”

Being put on the spot, all eyes then fell on Aaranu. The Broken shaman cleared his throat, and proceeded to remove the gauze cloth that covered Jaou’s right eye, and set it to the side. “I would like to bring your attention, first, to the wound sustained in his right eye,” the seer said, pointing to the vertical wound that ran from the top to the bottom of his ocular orbit. Disconcertingly, the dark lines tracing the blood vessels that the Stormchasers had seen on the neck were present there as well, and seemed to originate from his ruined eye. “We knew from the images shown by the warden familiar that he had fought with a Legion assassin, and it is common for them to use poisoned blades.”

Aaranu produced a vial that contained a strange orange substance. He then traced his finger along the black lines. “It is likely that this is a poison that is strong enough to suppress the healing capabilities of a demon hunter. I’ve been rather successful in pulling out the poison from his vascular system, with the aid of the elements, but it is a delicate process.” The shaman placed the vial away, and let out a sigh. “I’ve focused on the wound on his head first to safeguard any damage that may have been inflicted to his brain, before moving on to his neck; there is still a bit for me to remove there. Now, there’s the problem with encouraging his body to start healing.”

“What do you mean by that, Aaranu?” Zherrus asked with curiosity.

“His body is unresponsive to the stimulation of the elements to start healing. I have consulted with our Shivarra and Naga colleagues. The Naga employ magic similar to the elements, and haven’t been successful. The shadow healing from the sisters seems to provide some healing, but it is still very stymied. We’ve discussed further ideas that his body doesn’t have the fel energy reserves that would help initiate the recovery process.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s part of the problem,” Talven interjected. “He has been taking alternatives to supping on fel energies that comes with our usual… lifestyle. Given the demands of our bodies, his own could be overcompensating for a depleted energy store already. Under normal circumstances, I doubt it would be a problem, but this is an unforeseen stumbling block.”

Zherrus appeared thoughtful as he took in the information. “If I’m hearing this correctly, his life energies are helping with the deficiencies from the lack of fel energy that he has, so now he doesn’t have the base energy to start regeneration?”

“It is a possible theory,” Aaranu answered.

“And what happens to him if his body doesn’t recover?” Valorra asked.

“He’ll be stuck in the Twisting Nether until there is a body for him to come back to. Though it is hardly the safest place to be, there shouldn’t be an issue of overstaying, if that is what you’re worried about” said Marbeth in a matter-of-factly manner. “The alternative is that he could find a different body to inhabit, in rare cases a body could regenerate in the Nether.”

“Essentially time isn’t of the essence, thankfully, but setting that aside I think the best course of action would be to see if empowering his body with energy would work,” Talven stated. “There are sources of fel energy that we can acquire for him.”

“If I may, Talven, I would like to propose a joint solution,” Zherrus suggested, holding up a pointed finger. “I can channel nature energy to him to help supplement his body’s stores. His body is still technically alive, which means my abilities can lend itself here, and nature magics are the most apt to promote, and foster rejuvenation. I recognize he will need a level of fel energy to stabilise, but I think if this method is viable, it will also respect his choice to seek alternative sources to fel energy. Well… provided that this works,” Zherrus said with a frown, crossing his arms. “It will need to be done carefully to not overload his system.”

“Ah, we haven’t tried magic from the school of nature,” Aaranu pointed out, with curiosity in his tone. “This may prove to have a more hopeful result.”

Talven pensively thought of the druid’s proposition for a minute. “Hmm, I think it’s worth trying. Augmenting his body with both schools of energy, if we do it slowly, could be the trick.”

A hopeful smile crossed Zherrus’ lips, and he looked towards Valorra, who shared in that same hope, nodded to him, “I’ll send a message to the twins,” the warden said. “I pray for everyone’s success. And, you have our thanks,” she said to the Illidari members, to which Marbeth nodded, and Aaranu smiled at..

Talven stood with brimming determination. “Alright, let’s formulate a plan for this idea.”

((Correcting name formats for Vor’falo))

Jaou looked at Vor’falo as he cocked his head for a moment in confusion, particularly at the last point. “What do you mean ‘when we return?’” Jaou asked the inner demon. “You make it sound like such an easy undertaking.”

“Provided that your body hasn’t been taken and butchered by the enemy, or left in a deplorable state of rot, then we will have a vessel to return to. Most demons that get sent back to the Twisting Nether have to wait to regenerate a body to return to, so you can consider yourself lucky that you were sent here,” Vor’falo stated with an air of haughtiness. He then became more humble. “Well, that is the theory, anyway. I can’t say I have any recollection of undertaking the journey back to physical existence with an existing body.”

“A theory?” Jaou asked in an unimpressed manner. “So you’re actually not sure?”

“Come now, having a hunch is much better than having nothing to work off of,” Vor’falo cheekily shot back with what could be described as a grin on his skulled visage.

Jaou let out a sigh, and shook his head while gesturing his relent. “Alright, fine, you have a point,” the Night Elf said. “You don’t happen to also have a more advanced idea on why I’m here, do you?”

“You can ask the Illidari; they're your guide to everything demonic and fel, right?”

“Well, I just thought that a demon would also have good insight on the nature of the Twisting Nether,” Jaou replied in a puzzled manner. “But I suppose I’m being impatient.”

Vor’falo sighed, shook his head, and placed a hand on his head. He capitulated to the Night Elf somewhat, and said, “Look, I know you want answers, but I do not wish to give you the wrong ideas; all we know is that demon souls are sent back here. Regardless if that is the case for you, better to hear it from those that know more of your… our strange condition.”

Jaou could not find fault with Vor’falo’s suggestion. “Yes, you are right. So, when you said we can return to my body, what is it that we need to do?”

“Let us see, I did feel it before,” Vor’falo replied in a manner of thinking, as he looked around the expanse of the Twisting Nether, searching for something. The demon scrutinised the distant energies, and after a pensive moment of silence came a knowing gleam in his eyes. “Ah, I can still feel it.” He looked at Jaou, and began to give him instructions. “Clear your mind of any distractions, and feel for a connection. It should feel like something is tugging at your being, an unerring and constant attraction that’s calling to you. It should feel warm, yearning, more than familiar, and, for lack of a better description, like… home?”

The Night Elf seemed sceptical of his ability to follow, and execute Vor’falo’s instructions. While Jaou had improved in spellcasting, and grasping concepts of magic in more depth than he had previously in his life as part of his training with the Illidari, the concepts that Vor’falo had put forward still felt nebulous to him. Can I do it? he thought to himself. There was not much of a choice, was there? He shook his head, and said, “Alright, I’ll give it a try.”



***



It was a new day, and Aaranu continued with his work in the makeshift morgue, now with the druid, Zherrus who worked to aid in mending his son’s body. The previous day had seen Zherrus taking off Jaou's prosthetic arm as a precaution, as no one knew if upon revival he would be sound of mind. The druid had also taken the liberty to source some supplies before beginning his work.

As a favour Zherrus asked of Aaranu, he wanted to see the method used to remove the poison from the wounds, to which Aaranu was happy to oblige. The Broken seer started to prepare the herbs, and a bowl of water once more for the task. While the eye socket was now cleared of poison, there was still poison in the slit in the neck that needed to be dealt with. Where the wound in the eye had much of the poison sitting at surface layers of the surrounding anatomy, and luckily sparing the brain from the worst of the toxin, the neck saw more infiltration from the poison. It had taken more time to remove the poison, but Aaranu reckoned that this would be the final round of cleansing for the wound.

While Aaranu prepared his supplies, Zherrus focused his current efforts on mending deep in the ocular wound that Jaou sustained as it was now absent of poison. It had already been some hours since he got started, and it was now mid-morning. The druid was joined by Ganymede and Falathir, who rested nearby in the corner. They had taken to sleeping deeply in that part of the morgue for the time being when they were not hunting, or otherwise seeking sustenance. For Zherrus, it was nice to have them nearby as ‘familiar faces,’ but they also gave even more motivation to do what he can to help Jaou.

Still, it was a strange situation. Zherrus was familiar with what came with death, but it was his first time in all of his years that he would be providing energy to a corpse in preparation for revival. His son’s corpse was not dead in the conventional sense; there was no scent of rot or decay that indicated decomposition, but the wounds gave off the aroma of fresh and corrupted blood, likely from the poison. Zherrus also noted that Jaou’s body was, injuries aside, still structurally sound, and pliant as though he were alive, but still had the chill of death. It was certainly different from bringing back a person from the brink of death.

Zherrus held a bundle of dreamleaf with a maple seed in one hand, and continued to channel the life energy that the reagents contained into the wound with his other hand. There was some progress, as Zherrus could see the magic slowly climbing upwards from the inner reaches of the stab wound. He would need to continue for some time, but Zherrus was glad to see it was working.

Aaranu stood adjacent to where Zherrus was working, and offered the druid a nod. With the bowl of water in one hand, and an empty bowl in the other, he said to Zherrus, "I have my components prepared for the spell. Is this a good time for me to show you?”

Zherrus stopped channelling his spell, and stretched his back and shoulders. “I think it is,I’ll only need a moment, first,” Zherrus replied. The Night Elf looked at the maple seed, and the dreamleaf to determine how much energy the reagents had left. He offered a word of gratitude to the plants and seed for their energy, and from its remaining magics, he summoned into his other hand an ethereal lifebloom, and gently placed it over Jaou’s empty eye socket to allow for the nature magics to seep into the damaged tissues. “I should also replenish my energy, but I’ll leave this to continue with the progress in the meantime. Not as efficient as it is with me directly transferring energy, but it’ll do when I need to rest,” he explained to Aaranu.

“A transfer of energy,” Aaranu observed. “I’ve not had the chance to see druidic magics at work up close. I think this will be a good exchange of knowledge.”

“I look forward to it,” Zherrus replied with a sprightly demeanour. “I won’t delay you further, though. So how did you syphon the poison out?”

“Worry not about delaying me,” Aaranu chuckled. “Now, in this water I have placed a blossom of fire poppy, moon lily petals, the root of dreaming glory, leaves of lichbloom, and a frond of shimmering kelp. Through my totems,” which Aaranu motioned to his belt. “I had then imbued the water with elemental magics, and let the herbs seep in to enhance its properties.”

Zherrus stood with his arms crossed, and nodded as Aaranu gave his explanation. “Energising the water for added efficacy?” Zherrus asked. “And I noticed that the herbs you picked have great rejuvenation, and poison-neutralising properties.”

Aaranu nodded, showing the druid the bowl. “The elemental energy will allow for better absorption of the herb’s essences, and the manipulation of the water itself,” the seer explained. “The elemental water will also provide additional healing to the affected flesh and structures.” The Broken placed the empty bowl down, and took his water totem from his belt, placing both by Jaou’s head. Aaranu invoked the elements, asking for their aid. The totem began to glow a soft aquamarine as the energy flowed through it. Aaranu directed the magic to the bowl of water, and then manipulated the herb-infused liquid into the laceration that marred Jaou’s neck until the bowl was empty.

Zherrus watched with interest, placing his chin in his head in ponderment, as the water was magically streamed into the wound. Aaranu waved his free hand over the wound, glowing with the same light of the elemental water, and directed the flow around the flesh and bodily anatomy around the laceration to create currents. The water moved with purpose, with the seer soon manipulating the liquid into the tissue that surrounded the darkened blood vessels.

“This is the delicate part of the process,” Aaranu explained to the Night Elf. “The poison hasn’t spread as much, thanks to his heart having stopped soon after the injuries he sustained, but…” Aaranu coaxed the elemental water towards the length of the vessels that were distal to the blackened areas. “I have to be careful to not further damage the tissues, or spread the poison and contaminated blood. This method, if done correctly, will allow for the poison to be entrapped in the elemental water, exchanging it for the herb’s healing properties.”

The vessels subsequently filled and bulged from the water, the energy glowing through Jaou’s pallid skin. The seer directed the water to run through the dark vessels, and towards the open laceration. Little by little, the water moved through the veins, the arteries, and capillaries, carrying with it the same orange substance that Aaranu had shown the day before. As the poison was being leached out, Aaranu used the totem to energise the water once more to flow out of the wound, and into the second bowl that the Broken had placed nearby. After a few moments, the elemental water, with the poison was now contained in the second bowl.

With a deep exhale, Aaranu ended the spell, and thanked the elements for their aid. The glow from the totem dissipated as the seer took it, and placed it back on his belt. “And that is how I have been removing the poison,” Aaranu said to Zherrus, slightly tired from channelling and maintaining concentration on the spell. “It is not the easiest of methods, but it is thorough, and most importantly careful with the affected tissues.”

Zherrus nodded in acknowledgment, and enthusiastically said, “I can see that! It was certainly impressive spellwork there. Thank you for the demonstration, Aaranu.”

“There is no need to thank me, I am simply doing my due diligence. Speaking of,” the Broken said, trailing off at the end. He waved a hand over the laceration, which glowed a light aqua colour as before, his eyes narrowing as if he were scrutinising his work. When he was satisfied with what he had gleaned, Aaranu regarded Zherrus with a smile. “As I had expected, I was able to clear the wound of the poison with this treatment, though it may not look like it from the state of the blood vessels. Would you like to confirm my findings?”

“I can do that,” Zherrus replied, taking up Aaranu’s offer. He hovered his hand over Jaou’s neck as Aaranu did, and concentrated his attention on the wound. It seems to be gone, Zherrus thought to himself. The druid was done with inspecting the wound, and gave Aaranu a nod. “I can say that you’ve done what you set out to do, with great success,” the Night Elf said of his assessment. “The wound is no worse for wear. The tracks of poison visible on his skin are lighter than before you purged the toxin as well.”

The Broken smiled, heartened to hear that another agreed his efforts were yielding results. “The assurance is appreciated,” Aaranu said. “With this, I hope we are able to help his body mend from the damage it received.” A relieved exhale came from the seer, and he said, “I think now is a fine time for a break, to replenish our energies.”

“A fine idea,” Zherrus said with a nod, gesturing his agreement with a hand. “A marathon of healing does require that we pace ourselves accordingly.”

At that moment they were joined by Talven, and by a Shivarra dressed in their usual gilded attire of a cropped chestpiece, spaulders, and an ornate headdress. The towering demon also sported a floor-length skirt, and at her hips were four blades that were neatly sheathed upon a belt.

“Ah, the captain has returned,” Aaranu announced.

“Talven, you’re back, and with a friend! I take it your search was successful?” Zherrus asked, curious about his progress, and his companion.

Talven walked up to the druid and shaman with the Shivarra, and, with a grin, he produced a crystal of fel energy. “I did have to raid a fel reactor for these, but their quality is unsullied and pure. Not something you normally want for fel energy, but it’s perfect for our purposes.”

“I see,” Zherrus said with a nod. He then regarded the Shivarra, completely unperturbed by her presence. “So, are you going to introduce your friend here?” he candidly, and jokingly, asked Talven.

“That’s right, are you going to introduce me, or should I wait until you regale them with your tales of adventure?” the Shivarra said with a sly smirk, which elicited a chuckle from both Aaranu and Zherrus.

“Oh, you’re more than capable of introducing yourself,” Talven huffed. “Well, this is Luxuria. She’s one of our best portal masters, but is also talented at other spellcraft. I don’t think you’ve had a chance to meet her yet, Zherrus.”

“Yes, this is my first time,” the druid commented. How bowed and went on to introduce himself, “I’m Zherrus, druid and father to Jaou. I have heard from Valorra about the indispensable help you provided in finding and retrieving Jaou and Niashado. You have my sincerest gratitude for that.”

“Much appreciated. Both of them were in quite the dilemma, and despite some stumbling blocks, we managed well enough,” Luxuria said.

“Amazingly with minimal losses, in terms of personnel,” Talven added. “If you’re wondering, Luxuria is here to help channel the fel energy in this crystal into the kid’s body. I can do it in rough increments, but I figured a more fine-tuned technique would serve better while I draw the energy out in manageable amounts.”

“A delicate hand for a delicate process and whatnot,” the Shivarra said plainly.

“All of the sisters are very capable, and Luxuria is no exception to that standard,” Aaranu pointed out to Zherrus.

The druid smiled, and gave a nod of acknowledgement. “I’m glad to hear that,” Zherrus said, before turning to the others. “The more the merrier, as humans say.”

From what Vor’falo had described, it was similar to being on the boundary of life and death. Jaou was familiar with that, but not the multitude of distractions and energies around him. The Twisting Nether was not the Veil, it was a plane of existence, both physical and not at the same time. Jaou was dead, but his spirit ‘physically’ existed in the Twisting Nether. It was harder to navigate the sea of sensations to single out his bodily anchor.

Taking his lessons from Niashado and meditation, Jaou calmed himself, and closed his eyes. It was not an easy task for him with a physical body, let alone just his spirit. There were many distractions in the Twisting Nether, and his mind was swimming with questions and errant thoughts about his predicament. He had to return to his body, but what if he could not find it? What if his body was badly damaged, or worse, even missing? No, if Vor’falo could feel it, then surely his body must at least exist in some capacity for him, both of them, to return to it. Both of us, Jaou thought to himself, returning to his body? It was a strange and abhorrent reality of having a demon tied to him, but their souls were inextricably connected to each other; where Jaou went, then so too does Vor’falo.

Jaou’s brow furrowed further as he was struggling to keep a clear mind amidst his worries, and the chaotic environment around him. Vor’falo could see the build-up of distractions that assailed Jaou’s concentration. The demon cocked his head to the side for a moment. After several minutes, or as best as he could approximate it, Vor’falo addressed the Kaldorei spirit’s progress.

“You seem to be having some trouble,” said Vor’falo to Jaou in an observational manner. “Were you able to sense it?”

Jaou opened his eyes. A frown was still present upon his features as he shook his head, and said, “I haven’t found it yet.”

“Hmm, would you like for me to?” Vor’falo asked, offering his aid. “I was able to find it before.”

Jaou shook his head again. “No, I just need to clear my head,” he insisted. “Besides, I should try to find the thread myself. I’ve done something similar to this before; I need to be able to do this here as well, in case anything happens to you.”

Vor’falo seemed surprised at the answer, and by the Night Elf’s conviction. The demon snickered, and jokingly said, “How nice of you to keep my well-being in mind.”

“More that I shouldn’t rely on you as a crutch,” Jaou answered back, wrinkling his nose at the comment. “However, we’re stuck together, so we may as well work through this together too.”

“Oho, as a team? Are you certain you want to trust me, considering I was trying to wrest control from you not too long ago?” Vor’falo sinisterly teased. If his face had flesh and skin, he would have surely worn a toothy grin upon it..

“I don’t know that I can trust you wholly, or at all,” Jaou said plainly, but then he casually pointed towards Vor’falo. “But didn’t you say that you’re just a bunch of demon essences strung together, and your existence depends on me?”

Vor’falo’s expression could have been described as annoyed, with a measure of contriteness. “Well… I… err… I’ll admit you have me there. It is true that the only reason I haven’t dissipated is thanks to being anchored to you. But," his tone became more confident. "I have a good feeling that my existence will be well assured."

"And what makes you say that?"

"Unlike a normal demon hunter, you won't consume and assimilate your demonic soul," spoke Vor'falo. "You're afraid to take in more fel to live, and assert dominance over your new abilities." To this Jaou said nothing, but Vor'falo continued. "Accept your condition, and adapt. Or don't, and continue to hinder yourself; we already died once, because of your lack of energy, because you fear using the powers available to you."

Jaou looked at the demon amalgam with a chastened expression, but replied with his own thoughts. “I have gone through many physical changes in a relatively short period of time. Forgive me for wanting a modicum of normalcy and stability,” the elf said.

Vor'falo chuffed. "We're hardly in the position to ask for a 'normal' life," he said, crossing his ethereal spindly arms. "But let us not get ahead of ourselves, we must return to your body first. Shall you continue?"

"No qualms from me there. I'd rather not spend more time than needed," Jaou replied. He turned back to the expanse of the Twisting Nether. Jaou closed his eyes out of habit, and cleared his mind of tarrying thoughts, save for the singular goal of returning home. He concentrated on feeling the thread that connected him to his body, feeling for the pull back to life.

As several minutes, or what could be ascertained as minutes, passed by, he caught it. It was just on the periphery, but Jaou focused on the sensation, and felt the pull. It was strong, familiar. He knew it had to be his body.

Jaou opened his eyes in realisation, and looked to where he sensed the pull of life. "I believe I have found my connection," the Night Elf said. Jaou pointed towards a region of the Twisting Nether where the Elf saw a large gold and orange cloud of billowing energy. “I think we need to pass through that.”

Vor'falo nodded at Jaou, and said, "That is also where I felt it, but your sense will be stronger as it is your own body, compared to that of a mere tenant such as myself." The demon started to float in the direction that Jaou had indicated. “As we're intertwined souls, we must move together. It’s as simple as willing yourself in the direction you wish to move in. Think of it like floating.”

A puzzled expression came across Jaou's features, but Vor'falo was more familiar with the workings of the Nether. He still had his suspicions. Even if his essence depended on Jaou, it was still strange seeing how helpful the demon was being. For now, Jaou followed his instructions, and focused on moving to where he felt the pull. Just as Vor'falo had said, Jaou moved towards the intended direction.

"Good," Vor'falo said. "Now let us make haste."


—


Zherrus and Aaranu sat at a table situated in an antechamber connected to the morgue. The Broken shaman had poured tea for the two of them, and laid out some preserved fruit and nuts for them to eat. With the two was Ganymede, who laid at Zherrus' feet as he chewed on jerky made from deer, and Falathir perched upon his shoulder. The owl meticulously preened herself, occasionally looking back at the main room of the morgue.

Talven and Luxuria had told them they would need two or so hours for their part of the energy infusion before seeing what their progress was like. Taking this opportunity, they replenished their reserves of magical energy, and spoke casually about their current work, and of their history.

“I have to say, your son is fortunate to have a family that still stands with him,” Aaranu said to the druid, as he took another handful of fruits and nuts.

“Jaou is well-loved, like all of our children, I would like to think,” replied Zherrus as he ate his portion of preserved mix. He took a sip of his tea, and breathed deeply. “Of our children, his luck is rather… the most inconsistent.”

Aaranu nodded his head. “I’ve heard of his history from the others. A victim of collateral damage, which saw him turned into a satyr for a few years, where he first encountered Gazheel, fortuitously became an Elf again, and then reencountered Gazheel through a slave bounty, which saw him bestowed with the physiology and powers of a demon hunter against his will. Quite the storied fellow.”

“From a purely demon-involved standpoint, that is an accurate summary,” Zherrus said with a nod. He sat back, and said. “I know many in Night Elven society may turn their backs on anyone that would have faced the same challenges as Jaou, but Valorra and I can’t imagine doing that to him.

“He’s never given us a reason to doubt his character, and always pushed through the hard times with conviction. He has a good heart,” Zherrus said, feeding Falathir a piece of jerky he took from a pouch. The owl gladly swallowed the piece of dried meat, and appeared satisfied. “Even if he were to choose the path of a demon hunter on his own, I think we would come to an understanding. That’s what I’d like to think.”

“Jaou has good parents to serve as role models,” Aaranu said with a smile. The Broken swirled the tea in his cup, wearing a contemplative expression. “While there may be some cases where the Illidari think that distancing themselves, or even severing ties, with family is for the best, I do think that there is some envy for the bonds your family holds. I also think that reconciliation is not out of the realm of possibility, if one so desires it.”

“I think so as well,” Zherrus said with a nod in agreement. “If you don’t mind me asking, are you still in contact with your family? I understand if you don’t want to answer, given your circumstances.”

“It is of no concern, I am open to your question,” Aaranu replied as he took another handful of nuts and fruit to eat. "Most of my family had cut off contact with me, not long after I was afflicted with the red mist released by the orcs in Shattrath.” The seer smiled surprisingly after that fact, and said, “But my grandchildren and great-grandchildren still keep in touch. I don’t believe they know about my involvement with the Ashtongue and the Illidari, but perhaps they do, and simply keep it a secret. They are my last ties with my family, but one I cherish as one of the few lucky Krokul that still retains familial ties.”

“I’m glad to hear that you still have your old family in contact, even just partially.”

“Yes, though I cannot discount the ties I have since built with the Ashtongue, and the Illidari as a whole,” Aaranu pointed out. “It is ironic. I was an anchorite, and at that time I would have baulked at the very thought of working alongside a group like the Illidari. Now, I am a shaman in their service, and I would gladly do what I can to aid them. To me, they are my new family, despite their methods.”

“There’s nothing wrong with the camaraderie you’ve found with the Illidari. Afterall, Families are complicated,” Zherrus stated. “Not all of them are good to each other, and not everyone gets along. In the end, family is where you belong, not where you are born into.”

“Wise words, my friend,” the Broken shaman said. “I could get used to having a visitor to speak with. I am rather enjoying our time here.”

“As am I! This will be quite the story to explain to my colleagues,” Zherrus said to Aaranu. "At least this doesn't count as necromancy," Zherrus said in jest.

Aaranu let out a raspy chuckle. "Thankfully it is still within the purview of our practices," he replied. "But I must say, I am adept at keeping the bodies ‘comfortable’ as one could describe it, you are well-prepared, and knowledgeable at returning a body to proper form."

Zherrus rubbed the back of his head, and smiled humbly. "Well, I did a fair lot of this when Deathwing caused mass destruction around our lands. The priestesses were stretched thin, and there were many deceased to see to being made presentable for their loved ones to lay them to rest." The druid looked back at the main room with contemplation. "This is a bit of a different challenge. It isn't just appearances we're aiming for here, we need to restore functionality.”

“Hmm, it is true,” Aaranu answered back, sipping on some herbal tea. “I should inform you about the poison found in the dagger wounds. Our suspicions were correct in its characteristics in hindering healing and regeneration; some have posited that the poison is enough to hinder the regenerative abilities of Trolls."

“That’s quite the grim bit of news,” Zherrus commented, wearing a frown from the news. His expression then became lighter, as he said, “But I think you did a thorough job in removing the poison. The affected flesh seems to take well to restoration.”

“It does. We are aided by the physiology of a demon hunter, particularly one that has the capability to overcome death, but your abilities have truly been a boon,” Aaranu said with a gladdened expression. “Adding nature-aspected magic to our treatments has been enlightening thus far.”

Zherrus polished off his cup of tea, and placed it down on the table. “I wouldn’t mind coming here in my spare time to help,” said the druid. “Though it may be a challenge to entice others of my profession to come here,” he added with a chuckle. “Well, I suppose now the question is how nature and fel will interact with each other within his body.”

The Broken seer finished his own tea, and regarded the cup. “Time has passed by faster than I expected. If you feel well-rested enough, shall we see how the captain and Luxuria are progressing?”

Before Zherrus could even answer, Ganymede stood up, and padded out from under the table. The sabre cat placed his meal on the ground before stretching forward with a loud and audible yawn. After stretching his hind limbs back, Ganymede picked up the brace of dried deer and trotted into the main room. Falathir, too, was becoming more excited. She lightly bit at Zherrus’ ear, which caused him to flinch, and flicker his ear.

“Ha, well it looks like Jaou’s companions would like to see how they’re doing,” Zherrus said. He stood up, and took both of their empty cups. “I’ll help clean up before we head over.”


—


Talven had placed the crystal on a bedside table. With both hands, the demon hunter drew out the concentrated fel energy into a glowing rune that was conjured and channelled by Luxuria. Using two of her six hands she maintained the rune, and with two others, she took the gathered fel energy, and directed the flow into Jaou’s body. It had been at least two hours since they had started on their meticulous work.

Both the demon hunter, and the Shivarra concentrated on their task at hand. It was not every day where they had to feed fel in this manner to a demon hunter awaiting in what was essentially stasis. But it was not also common for a demon hunter to avoid fel in the same degree that Jaou did. They had to carefully channel the energy to ensure that Jaou’s body was able to absorb it, but not cause adverse effects on his form. What they were doing was essentially drip-feeding the fel energy.

“Jaou’s idea to find alternate sources of energy to subsist on would have worked well, if he didn’t die,” Luxuria observed.

“It would have worked if he died like a normal mortal, too,” Talven pointed out. “But no one could have guessed that he now had an immortal demon soul. Gazheel’s handiwork is something else, producing demon hunters en masse.”

“It does make one wonder what the other's fates were. The ones we had to put down, if they’re lingering in the Twisting Nether, or already been regenerated, to be so fundamentally changed,” the Shivarra wondered. "What happened to the ones that were already distributed?"

"We may find them amongst the Felsworn, frontline troops, covert agents of the Legion, or being experimented on," Talven said with a frown upon his brow. "I hate to think what would have happened to the Jaou if we didn't act when we had."

“I would guess that if he endured it, he would find that death would be a preferable outcome, that’s if he were even allowed the release. But he luckily avoided that grim fate.”

“Yeah, now we have to charge him more fel energy without overloading his body,” Talven said. The elder demon hunter could feel a primal hunger making its presence known within him. Noticing the building salivation in his mouth, he swallowed back the hunger, and licked his lips. “He might not appreciate this rather gourmet meal we’re giving his body, but it’s what he needs to come back.”

Luxuria quickly scanned the corpse for progress. The lifeboom that Zherrus had left over Jaou’s right eye had lost a great deal of its opacity, only denoted by a faint emerald outline. She had expected to see a still-open stab wound, but to her surprise the eye socket, lid, and orbit were reformed, from the flesh, to the skin and eyebrow. The socket was still empty, but that was to be expected. Luxuria then traced her eyes to the neck, and saw a promising sign that their efforts were working. She squinted her eyes, and looked at the very edges of the wound. The flesh that was severed in Jaou’s neck was stitching itself back together, slowly, but surely.

“We may soon find out, since it looks like our efforts are paying off,” said Luxuria as she motioned her head to the neck.

Before Talven could look, Ganymede had come trotting into the room with a piece of dried meat in his mouth. The sabre cat quickly settled in the close corner that he had made his designated spot. “Hmm, either he’s gotten tired of being away from the boy, or the others are done with their break,” Talven said of Ganymede’s sudden presence. “Anyway, it looks like we were able to jump-start his regeneration.”

“Given that we've hit our goal, how long should we do this for?” Luxuria inquired. “This is a decent helping of fel we’re giving him.”

“Yeah, this might be a good spot to check on him. I’ll cut off my part of the channelling," said Talven as he closed off the energy draw from the crystal, and allowed the flow trickle away into the rune.

Luxuria nodded, and finished channelling the remaining fel power from the rune into Jaou’s body. As she emptied the rune, they were joined by Aaranu and Zherrus with Falathir, who came back from their recess. Her gaze remained on the spellwork as she said, “You came back at a good time. We’re wrapping up the infusion.”

“How fortuitous! And if my hearing is accurate, there’s good news about my son’s physical state?” Zherrus inquired in a gladdened tone. Falathir flapped her wings while perched on the druid’s shoulder, minorly ruffling his hair as she did The owl hopped off from Zherrus’ shoulder and fluttered to the table where Jaou laid. She waddled close to Jaou’s neck, and extended her head towards the wound, tilting her head in curiosity. Falathir let out a few hoots as she watched the fel energy flow into the body.

“His body is self-regenerating? That is good tidings for him,” Aaranu commented. Clasping his hands together in relief. “I suppose the rest is now up to him.”

Luxuria emptied the energy from the runic medium, and finished the fel infusion into Jaou’s body. She dismissed the rune with a wave of one of her hands, and breathed a long sigh. “It’s finally done,” she said. The Shivarra stretched her six arms, and rotated her shoulders to ward off the fatigue. “It’s been a while since my days as a portal channeller, but it’s not an unfamiliar situation to be maintaining a spell for extended periods of time.”

Talven likewise pulled his arms back, and stretched out his back muscles. “His body is now healing itself. All in an odd day’s work. Can’t say we do infusions like this for such revival purposes all of the time,” the demon hunter captain said.

Zherrus looked over Jaou’s body to see the results of their work thus far. Jaou’s right eye healed as best as they could have expected, with the lifebloom fading away as its energy supply ran dry. The druid then looked at his neck, hovering a hand over the wound. He could sense that there was growth in that region where there was not before. Zherrus rubbed his chin, and pondered the results. “Hmm, this is promising. It is ironic that the very energy that has brought Jaou so much grief, and unwanted change is now one of the sources for saving his life,” Zherrus observed.

“Life certainly has a twisted sense of humour,” Talven added. “But the added nature aspected energy may help.”

“I hope so,” Zherrus said. Despite the optimism he kept, there was a shade of pensiveness in his demeanour, perhaps guilt for allowing more fel to be infused into his son. Still, there was nothing to do but to try with what methods they had. “Do you think we were able to give him the chance he needs to come back?”

“As sure as the horns on my head,” Talven answered, before reassuring Zherrus of their path. “I know you’re concerned about increasing the boy’s level of fel energy, but come what may, we’ll help him through it. Your plan to augment fel with nature is sound, and decreased the amount of fel energy we had to use.”

“We did try to use the fel energy in the crystal conservatively, concentrated as it was,” Luxuria added. “We were careful to only utilise enough to get to our goal.”

Aaranu offered the druid a hand upon his shoulder, and a stalwart nod. At the reassurances, Zherrus smiled, and gave a nod to his compatriots. The druid looked back to Jaou’s right eye socket. While the exterior seemed fine, he was curious about the interior. Zherrus opened the eyelid, and found a small bit of tissue that could have been the start of a new globe, but it was struggling to form. “It seems his body is trying to regenerate his eyeball, but it feels like it is impaired. Perhaps it is too much for it to grow back? Granted I’m not well-versed in the extent of a demon hunter’s regenerative capabilities.”

Talven shrugged before he said, “It’s different from one individual to another. We could conceivably try to help the body to grow it.”

Zherrus crossed his arms, and looked thoughtfully into the air as he deliberated the suggestion. “While it could be that some aid is required, focused energy could work… but…” the druid said to himself, aloud.

Aaranu chimed in, and continued Zherrus’ thought, “The confluence of energy there may trigger overwhelming growth? I think that either outcome would be equally probable.”

“Hmm, well,” Zherrus said with some deliberation. He should consider themselves lucky that they were able to get this far with rejuvenating Jaou’s body, but his son’s vision was important for his work in cartography and art. If there was a chance to limit the number of changes that he would be going through, then Zherrus would try to decrease the number of factors that he would have to adapt to, if only by one. “I’m happy enough with where we are, but perhaps we can try,” the druid said.

The entire time, Luxuria watched the others speak about regenerating the eye. The Shivarra held a neutral expression, but she was less optimistic about the prospects of this upcoming endeavour. “Eyes are one of the more complex parts of the body, and rarely regenerate on their own. I’ll help, but if things go awry, we will have to abort,” she firmly stated. "But at least it's something to pass the time by while monitoring his condition."

Exhaling softly, she kept her silvery eyes trained on the distant target.    From this far, the circular target was a tiny spec.  She pulled back a little further, ignoring the dull ache coming from her healed shoulder.   With a final breathe out, she released the arrow, feeling the bow snap into its static shape with a seeming sigh of relief.   A second later the bow slammed into the target.  

Izdazi noted with some dismay that the arrow was slightly off center from the center of the bullseye.  She kept her disappointment from her visage as she turned to her students who were watching.  

“That target was a thousand yards away.   You are required to hit a target center on at 600 yards.   I will expect 700 from each of you,” the kal’dorei explained.  She glanced past her students and noticed a draenei in the distance watching them.   She’d seen him around the town but never in the training area of the garrison.  

Rotating her aching shoulder a little to loosen the joint she turned and regarded ten targets that were fifty yards away.   Pulling an arrow, she quickly let loose ten arrows that hit their targets center on in rapid succession.    

“Once you have trained in distant targets, we’ll work on closer threats.  In this case we’ll work on rapidly releasing arrows,” she continued.   “Those who excel at archery may be offered to train with Ashatalr.   But that’s getting ahead of ourselves.  First, we work on the basics.   Form up!”

The students, mostly night elves, but a mixture of the races as well formed up in the line facing targets that had been set up.  These weren’t as far as the distance prerequisite Izdazi had mentioned earlier.  

“Do not pull the arrow until you’re ready to fire and never pull the bow without an arrow and then abruptly release it.   This is bad for the bow.   This bow and arrow is your life and more importantly, the life of those who will depend on you,” she further explained.     “Nock your arrows!”

“Take aim along the arrow.   These targets are close enough that the wind shouldn’t affect its trajectory.  We’ll cover that technique later.   Take a breath and when you’re ready release.”

She waited and in a staggered fashion the students released their arrows.   Almost all of them hit their targets.  Some got close to the bullseyes.  

“That’s a good start.   Keep going,” Izdazi ordered.  She paced behind the students, occasionally giving some suggestions and helping with their positioning.   This class has some good potential.  

The huntress glanced back to the where the draenei was but he was gone.  

* * *  


That evening Izdazi waited at the tavern near the edge of town to meet with Jast.   She was wearing her hood over her head, concealing her dark blue dreadlocks and face.   A stein of untouched ale sat on the table before her.  She drummed her fingers on the tabletop, impatiently waiting for a contact she knew wasn’t going to come.  

Jast was in trouble.  She had little doubt about that.   But she wasn’t even sure how to find him.   Ravenstar and Mateus had said they’d look into it, and she wanted to trust them, but she knew they also had their hands full.    

The sound of revelry and music did little to quell the pit in her stomach.  

I should have never volunteered him for this mission, she mulled.  I should have done it myself.   The realization that this was exactly what brought the last argument between her and Jast didn’t escape her.   This, this very situation was why she had her doubts about their relationship.    

The night elf casually tilted the mug around and watched the ale slosh about gently.   She felt someone was studying her closely with a brief study of the tavern she noted the same draenei was here.  

He was reading a book and pretending not to look, but she knew it was too much of a coincidence.    Drumming her fingers on the tabletop she considered her options briefly before abruptly standing up and leaving the tavern.    

Izdazi only had a dagger and a concealed crossbow connected to her bracer, but she felt relatively safe.    She ducked near a tree surrounded by shrubbery and shadow melded.    Not a second later the draenei exited the tavern and looked around the darkened street.   With a nearly imperceivable shrug, he started walking away.  

The huntress stealthy followed behind him until he reached an inn.   There, he curiously waited outside, looking around, before approaching the door.  

Izdazi stepped out of the shadow behind him, holding a dagger under her cloak and cleared her throat loudly.  

“I don’t think we’ve met,” she said.   The draenei jumped in startlement and spun around to face her.  

“Wh-what, who, what do you mean?” he stuttered in surprise, glaring at her with golden glowing eyes.   His long back hair was done up in a high ponytail.  He wore traveling leathers but Izdazi had a feeling he’d be almost as comfortable in full armor.   The surety of his walking betrayed obvious military training.  

“You were watching me training my students this morning.  You’ve been seen wandering around public areas of the garrison and various establishments in town,” she explained, never taking her eyes off his.   “What would a Lightforge vindicator want with us?”

“Me?  A vindicator?” he said, feigning surprise.  

“Please.  People who wear armor make the worse spies,” she quipped.  

The surprised visage faded, and he issued her a fierce visage that made her question the confidence she had for her safety.  

“What if I told you my reasons for being here are an internal draenei matter and have nothing to do with the security of the Rangers or your garrison,” he replied in a suddenly sure and authoritative tone.  

“I’d say it’s common decency to let your allies know what you’re doing here and see if there’s a way to help rather than skulking around town being suspicious.”

“Why would I ask any of you for help?  This garrison is run by criminals who broke a demon from a prison in Exodar.  You’re not innocent in that matter either.   I have my reasons for being here and they have nothing to do with any of you,” the Vindicator stated.  

“Fair enough.   Let me help you then:  Niashado isn’t here.  We haven’t seen or heard from her in months,” Izdazi countered.   “And Jaou Stormchaser isn’t a demon anymore.   In fact, it’s my understanding he was pardoned by the draenei in Exodar, although for what crime, I’m not sure of.”

“He was pardoned.  You, Archdruid Stormchaser and Ravenstar have not been,” the Vindicator snapped.  “I’m not here for any of them or you, though.”  

Hmmmm.  I’m not getting all my messages.   I didn’t realize I was person non grata in Azuremyst.

“Shiny!  Well, Niashado isn’t here,” Izdazi repeated.  “However, maybe you can help me with something unrelated.   What’s your name?”

“Trass,” he said, carefully.   “You want my help?”

“Yes.   And if you do, in return I won’t haul you tail first into a stockade while we figure out what to do with a spy who has no reason to spy on us.”

“And if I refuse, do you think you can really take me to jail by yourself?” Trass asked, sounding humored by the very thought.   Izdazi sighed at her bluff crumbling so quickly.

“No.  I can’t haul you to jail by myself.  You got me there.  But I’ll tell everyone you are a spy.   You won’t be able to go anywhere without scrutiny from the villagers and our garrison.  And eventually, we’ll come with greater numbers to arrest you.  In essence, I will tank your mission and I won’t even have to pull a weapon,” Izdazi said with a smirk.   “But, help me, and we’ll allow you to keep trying to play spy.”

The vindicator glared at her.  Izdazi watched as Trass’s hands balled into fists and then relaxed repeatedly.   He really is new to subterfuge.  

Warriors always make the worse spies.  

“What can I help you with?” he finally replied through gritted teeth.   Izdazi’s smile widened.  

“See.  That wasn’t so difficult,” she said.  Her face turned serious as she described Jast’s appearance to find out if he’d seen him anywhere in town.  

He was spying on the village.  Might as well put some of his intel to their own use.  


* * *  


“About ten kilometers from the village.   Trass says he’s seen someone of Jast’s description moving on the trails between this area and the village.  He and several others have been moving shipments from this area to a small warehouse near the edge of town,” she explained to Mateus, looking down at a map of the village in her office.  

“He doesn’t know what they’re up to, but he considered it suspicious.   But, since this is not his mission he really didn’t give it much thought,” she added.  

“What is his mission?” Mateus asked.  

“Trass never confirmed it, but I have a feeling he’s looking for Niashado.  Or trying to figure out if we know where she is,” Izdazi explained.  “But he gave us a good lead on Jast and in return I said I’d ignore him, for now.  I think he's harmless, but he should be monitored.”  

“I don’t like someone spying on us, but I can’t dispute what he’s given us.   I’ll talk to Ravenstar.  We need to know what’s going on in there.”