Tumgik
rarhuk · 5 years
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Breaking Traditions...
( Inspired by miss Tak’s art piece Nose Piercing Ceremonies. )
Traditions are merely customs, or beliefs that are passed on from generation to generation. The simple foundations to teach us between what is right and what is wrong in the world. The out look on these things is all dependent on the individual and what the society is like in which one is raised. In my life time, I, personally, was raised upon my first breath to serve first the needs that the empire of Zul’drak required of me. From the ritual traditions of my governed temple of worship, to the orders of my superior officers overseeing my regiment and rank, to the requirements of rules, and of regulation of the laws not only in provinces, or capital, yet, that of home life as well. I, like many others were in the service of all those long held traditions, we followed their regulated practices as that was what was required for us to do.
I did not question the ways of my people, as it had always been established to be as it was for as long as I could recall. I did not ask when the first sacrifice had been made, or reasons as why my people had done the things the way we had done them. It was not my purpose, nor place to question. My purpose was laid out before me on that first breath, as well as my last. I did not question, neither in the subtleties, nor in the broad range, I lived and had died upon that design created for me by the generations that came before.
It was not until after my death and resurrection did I begin to question, what in life I had failed to...
My mere presence, condition, existence is a contradiction to all the beliefs I once held in life, at times it can be an affront to other cultures, and even my own. Perhaps, just as that is so, it was what started this inward quest to discover deeper meaning that I once held towards those followed traditions that in my present unlife were lost to me. I merely observed, as I was thrust within the ranks of the Horde for tasks, as the Ebon Blade directed me was the objective. It was to observe, to lend aid when it was required, and find my purpose amongst the people to fill my inactive duty time. Over the years, I have served many as a guardian, I have worked besides many skilled individuals, and those that were not as... apt, in certain skill sets. I have worked with a wide range of individuals, from different backgrounds, cultures, races, and so forth, I am highly grateful for the differences in perspectives, as they are valuable. I have done menial tasks in life I would not have ever done in my life, such as sweeping the floor for a blind elder orc, to baking a dessert called cookies for orphans, I have been a drink holder from ale to coffee, as well as cloak holder from time to time. I did not see how this was part of the objective, yet, I have obliged almost every request save a few unreasonable ones. In my quest, there have been vibrant living individuals that have crossed my unlife that have left just as brilliant lasting impressions in their passing. As one such as I, can only grow so much from my original design and purpose, to live a denied life through those closest to me that care to share my inclusion in their own journeys.
Most have gone onward in their lives, growing, learning, changing, passing onward in their lives, where as I have remain the same, stagnant. There are  many names I have within my recall, of habits, physical mannerisms, vocal tones, appearances, that do not fade even though their presence has. Although, each parting for me has always left me with this sensation of keen awareness of their absence, I always wish for them the best in all their endeavors. That pattern of having a charge, or associate for a period of time before they move onward, has been an ongoing tradition since my resurrection. Yet, I believe I am better for it, that in ways unbeknownst to me I have had subtle changes evolve from my original design.
Where is my point in all this? It is leading somewhere...
An established tradition, or foundation from which we have our set code of instructions as how to behave, or the knowledge of right and wrong is just that. A place to build from, to grow, to develop, to learn from, to adapt, to change what we believe is wrong in the world, and continue what one believes is right slowly transforms into something new in our experiences, to pass that new gathered information gained onward to the next generation. What causes those strict and solid foundations to shaken? Through my life time and unlife, I have observed a few instances, in which an epiphany beyond what has been firmly established in a mind set is achieved. This is gained through great duress, war, an act of unexpected mercy, and that of the greatest blessing a life time can bestow, that of love. Trauma can shape an individual as well as to open the mind towards a different possibility than what was currently seen. War, it holds no qualms of what it destroys, and what it can forge in the hearts of brothers in arms towards a common goal. As much as war does not weep over the loss of innocence, it holds a passionate desperation to it that every mortal in it’s throng can recognize and find a commonality. An act of mercy from an perceived enemy, or one an individual did not trust in an hour of need has the possibility to change a view point. Love, now this the most difficult for me to apply for myself as a view point, yet, I have seen it’s ability and works to move those that even the most resistant.
The city of Orgrimmar, the orc capital is where many races congregate, either for business, or social interactions. Their cultures clash, and yet mingle, their traditions interact as much as they do, regardless of their ties, or beliefs, they dance the dance of what the living do in these circumstances. There are those of all walks of life, from seasoned warriors conversing in relaxation after a long day in the fray, to those that spend their time towards intellectual pursuits, as well as those looking to make a quick coin, those enjoying the tavern life with a dishonest intent, and those quietly observing occupants of the city under the shade of a tree. It was the same in my life time, yet, not as diverse in races, or belief systems. The works of love is just as varied as the individuals that flock to the city in mass. With all the death and destruction of our world, to find love, pure, true love, is as the saying goes like finding mana in a depleted crystal, a rare occurrence. This is where a tale I observed begins, like any tale it has basis in fact. I have self elected to be the narrator, some parts of the story may be missing, or from my personal perspective been embellished on slightly.
I cannot feel as they do, yet, I do recognize the presence of love, when I observe it. I am capable of seeing it in the exchanged glances, the elevated heart beat, the change in skin, and breathing, the tone change of voice when speaking each other names, or to each other. I am not always as efficient as I would like to be when pin pointing the cause of these physical reactions, as it is almost close to the scent of fear, or threat, as the air around the individual tastes the same. Love is a chemical imbalance, it causes reactions in the living that appear to make them volatile. I cannot express it as they do, I can show devotion such as an undying loyalty, I can be the mug holder, the sentinel, but I cannot give my gaze towards those I value with the same volatile and yet devoted reaction.
I had noticed that Elle no longer sat across the fire from Brix’tul for some time without bringing attention to it, as it would make the time spent... uncomfortable, for them. The elven female that wore dark shades of clothing I assumed were black, I was told had red hair also. I often arrived with coffee, even once a pirate’s hat that she had shown a fondness for, I considered her a frequent friend, as she once was a familiar face that welcomed my presence with a smile on most occasions. She sat with Brix’tul now, with those looks fondness upon her features in his direction, with the physical changes I mentioned above. From whispers to glances, I recognized the signs I had witnessed before in others. Brix’tul is one of those individuals I have come to consider as close as possible in my state and condition as I would a brother. I do hope that within my presence in their company that kinship was felt in return even within my limitations of expressing those depths of fondness. I was not a great presence in their journey together, yet for the adventures, and idle conversation I was included in I am grateful for. 
A break in traditions.... A elf and troll as a couple? Let the great debates, and judgement begin.  I have heard it all. Elves and trolls are not compatible, due to physical attributes, and so on. Elves and trolls clash because of cultural differences, how they were raised, and due to the territory disputes. That is on the outsider individual’s mindset, that had been raised on certain foundations of what was deemed to them as wrong. Those that point out what cannot be, have not grown beyond which they were taught. They are stuck where the laws and regulations they had been forged in, yet to see into the realm of possibilities beyond themselves. They refuse to question, or cannot, because they have yet come to learn there is a realm beyond those basic beginnings set before them. Those that carry a need to feed on the limitations of ignorance by intruding upon those that seek go beyond that which they were taught. I am not certain what wars the Darkspear Brix’tul fought in beyond the construction of the garrison. Perhaps, trauma from previous incursions contributed to his taste for Darkmoon Reserve. Yet, he was not Amani, the Darkspear led by Vol’jin had aided the Sin’dorei in pushing the Amani back as well. Many enlightened Sin’dorei I’ve spoken to respect the contribution trolls put forth to aid them in their time of need. Yet, with every culture, there are those that still hold weight to past experiences. I never had an objection to their union, as love, as much as life is, it is a precious, as well as it is a precarious blessing. 
I believe Brix’tul believed my advice had value in the beginning as he had came to me and had asked for my honest opinion. I do not... sugar coat, I tend to be as I am told, frank, literal, and at times brutal when asked such questions. I told him, from my own perspective, and observations statistically speaking the relationship was doomed. I pointed out, the contrasts that may oppose them, such as lifespans, opposition from cultural differences, and acceptance, as well as those many other conflicts may arise due to these natures that differed between them. I spoke further on what I had seen amongst the city’s populace when it came with unions similar as to their relationship, and the different definitions individuals carried as to what it meant to be mated, or married. I spoke to him on how I was raised in life, and what I had came to believe since my death and resurrection, in reflection as to how the two were vastly different in comparison to the world in which he and Elle now lived in. What was not acceptable in my life time, was acceptable now. My advice to him was to seize what his heart desired, before it was out of his reach.
It wasn’t until a much later time and circumstance that an mumbled half mention from Brix’tul caught my attention. Had I heard him right? That was my first inclination to inquiry. I may not emotionally as deep as the living, I may not be able to express my intentions, but what I believed I heard was Brix’tul asking for Elle’s hand in a union, and for myself to perform the ritual. I do not know in depth Darkspear traditions, nor the rituals the Sin’dorei hold. I know of the traditions, and ritual rites, my people once carried as far as unions went, as well as it went to what one gave as an offering to the loa, and the one’s intended. The mere thought I could, and may perform such a rite of a milestone for my friend and brother was both a honor, as well as a sacrilege against my prior life’s belief system. Some how, it was oddly fitting, and I found it amusing as well. I instantly agreed, of course after Brix’tul set the time and date. To tempt fate, to spit in the eye of which denied my own living beating heart of being capable to achieve the natural course to flourish in the emotional bonding that being in love and mated provided, gave me a strange sense of satisfaction.
Of course I could not do so in a official grand traditional capacity for a mixed couple. I was never an ordained troll priest in my life time, yet, I knew enough that I could perform a basic, small affair. I also have the rank to push Horde documents that could put the order through for paper work records to make the union legitimate. If the request was denied, I had some slightly less lawful ways to gain proper documentation. I will not speak of which route I took, I will leave that to speculation. 
The place and time was set, I had all the preparations needed to perform the ritual. This is where I struggle, where I have difficulties with depth. Spiritualistic magic and will, is not as mysterious as one may believe, it has properties, principals, we may not be able to comprehend all the rational, or reasons, it may have to behave in the manner in which it does, yet it is an energy that can be harnessed and shaped. It was there that night, weaving it’s way around those two. I could not feel their emotions, yet, I witnessed the exchange, and the importance of it. It was a powerful force...We all had donned our best ceremonial regalia, faces and bodies were painted in the manner they had deemed appropriate, symbols, emblems of infinity and continuance were marked in paint and blood on the skin. Sacrifices and trinkets were given as an offering, spirits were exchanged, vows to protect, to provide, to nurture and to grow from were given. While the incense burned, noses were pierced, and for a moment time stopped as Elle reached to take Brix’tul’s finger in her own small hand. They looked at each other, a devotion that stretched out the time and ages as they were connected on smiles as the two looked across the ritual bowl at each other upon the conclusion ceremony. One such as I could never understand the emotional immensity, the significance of that moment as it is truly meant to be felt, and yet I was there included, witnessing a place in time of new beginnings, endless possibilities, and hope for the future. In that moment, I do believe, however, so fleeting, I was touched by their joy.
In our own ways, all three of us broke from our set traditions, by making new ones. A tradition that may be doomed ending with just the one ceremony, or it may be carried on forward in the possible next generations to come. It is these times, of war, of cultural diversity and divides, that moments like these should be celebrated, as they are significant. They are the voice of change, that is not done out of a long establish rule, but one that flourishes out a greater power. In a world full of corruption, love is but a single weapon in a vast rebellion for those that oppose the establish rules. As for their future, nothing is certain.  I would like to believe they continue onward with such changes from their intended designs together creating new foundations, that the blessings in their lives continue throughout their journey. 
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rarhuk · 6 years
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Tempered Steel...
Tempering is a process of heat treating, which is used to increase the toughness of iron based alloys. One can change the appearance of the steel from yellow to light blue, by the temperature of heat applied to the focal point of attention. I, personally, have never been one to enjoy the visual results. It’s strangely controlled this process, to change, to produce something new from a base alloy. I enjoy working at the forge, it consumes time, it has a purpose, the finished product has a continued use. May it be only a door handle for a trunk that holds keepsakes, or that of a weapon, or armor to protect, a shoe to issue forth a steed onward on a journey. It has purpose, a use....
The living are not tempered steel, they are emotionally volatile, their purpose is as vastly unclear to them .... I would spare them these many weaknesses that they endure. I know, this is not their purpose. They are not meant to be as the alloys forged strong, they are meant to have those weaknesses of faults on the surface, and within, to see those vivid colors in their lives, and glorious deaths naturally. That is the living condition, and their imperfect perfection.
Yet, in the state I continue in I resist such changes...
I stood in silent vigil to pay my respects, many mourned as the sky rained, it was fitting some said. As comfortable as it was for my eyes, I did not feel it was fitting. I believe a scorching irritating blinding sunlight would have been more suiting for the male I knew. I am archaic in my knowledge of funeral traditions, and this was not something I was accustom to, as to what was required, or what purpose I should serve beyond my presence. I kept a distance, as I did not wish for my presence to cause an offense to the spirits that resided their own watch. Many spoke of their condolences, many spoke of their grievances of their loss. I stood, and watched the gathered speak their tales, speak their love for the fallen. Yet, I could say nothing. I thought of many things, I thought of voicing memories, I thought of apologizing, I thought, and I thought, yet nothing would change the fact there was someone absent from their lives. It would all be lies, these words that were in my mind to reassure.  Nothing one such as I could say or do would make it easier on them, it was to be processed in their own way, in their own manner.
Do I grieve?
I met Ty’vek as I meet many, with my attempts at my hobby of socializing at the base of the tree. I had thought he would soon grow disinterested as many do, as I am considered dull by many living beings with the same attention span. A passing familiar face in the local populace, I had assumed. Yet, it was not to be so... Ty’vek felt a need to force his personality, his random words that were off topic, his chaotic presence always found me... at times it was almost a constant thing. I could not evade him, even if I made a valid attempt to. His interjections, his assumptions, his intruding behavior, his brooding, his twisting of other’s words to suit his own agenda’s, his constant need of a mate to reaffirm his importance. All of it infuriated me at times, to the point I would sink to his level of mannerisms to throw curses at him to shut his mouth. Of course he would laugh it off... His incompetence at times enraged me enough that I had to depart the city.
He would dye his hair, full well knowing I could not see the shade change would ask my opinion. To me it was always lighter grey, or darker grey, even though I have been told it was naturally a deep blue. He would inform me the color he had dyed it to, and ask me what I thought. It was never my opinion that mattered, only Ty’vek’s, yet every time he asked me as if it did matter. I could never understand this, and there had been many discussions about judgements and who exactly was entitled to pass them on others. We talked at great length about many things....
He changed mates, like the living frequently change loin cloths... Sometimes he had a multitude at once, at times it was singular. Every single time between the shuffle of lover’s he would come to me for advice. Later, as I approached I would find him twisting my words around to suit what agenda he had to gain sympathy, while he was speaking to another. At times there would be irritated looks my way, or a disgruntled friend attempting to lecture me about something that had been misconstrued into something else intended. I would spend more hours attempting to fix the the misconceptions with strangers over clarification, as to what context, or what I had actually said, than the time it had took to tell Ty’vek  the advice in the first place. His constant need for acceptance, and the inclusion, baffled me. It was never enough for him to gain confidence for himself, to love himself, before loving another. It was always another that made him who he was...
After, I... I actually lost count of the tally of numbers, I am uncertain which number of lover he had come to me for advice for, that I told him I would not give any more advice. I had never had the opportunity to be mated in life and those drives lacked in my current state, I could not give the compassion, nor the correct approach to use. I no longer could tolerate my own words used against me, to cause difficulties for me at the expense to make him feel better about himself. I do believe he rather enjoyed watching as I was lectured by his friends, that would refuse to hear the voice of reason as they believed they were vindicating a wounded friend. I spoke the truth from my perspective only because it was asked of me, it was not given to be used as a tool of manipulation, yet it had been. He thrived in the stew of drama that only he, himself, created for himself. I had to distance myself from his presence until he began to manage his life more appropriately. Once he had settled down with a more stable mate system, albeit nontraditional in my opinion, or perspective,  he spoke fondly of them at frequent, and that of their children. My service was no longer was needed for such advice, which I am content with.
I was targeted by him most often for his mischief.... If I had been living perhaps I would have found it an honor, or even humorous. Yet when he named his spectral hearth steed Rocky, after my nickname Rock, and fed a spectral steed hay in front of me... It irritated me. His voice crooning, and cooing over the spirit beast as if it had feelings, the pitches of his voice high, stroking it slowly, and with my nickname attached agitated me to the point I wanted to make his death slow and painful. At first, I thought he was unaware, oblivious to this fact that I was close to snapping, so I had tolerated it. It wasn’t until he annoyingly winked and made a kissy face at me that I chased him off through the city, while he laughed. Of course I later returned the gesture by freezing his blanket frozen solid around him while he slept at the base of the tree. The following cold he had suffered from with the coughing, and the sneezing, I enjoyed the side effects of my retaliation, immensely.
He had relied on my skill.... During my station in the jungles of Tanaan, he frequently asked for my assistance. The first of these occasions where I had been his guide, I was with a shaman by the name of Moj’akai as well. Both of us had traversed these foreign lands enough that we were considered experienced guides. Ty’vek was a novice, we were aware of this setting out. I have had experienced the works of some novices, I tend to use them as distractions, I believed I was prepared. I was not... On foot, Ty’vek ran into the jungles ahead. I had thought, good, it will tire him out before long, and he will learn that one in cloth should not charge ahead the one in plate. I conversed with the shaman, with idle pleasantries, when the screaming started. I was hesitant to hasten my trek, just to give Ty’vek time to take in the lesson. I did not have to move, however, as there running and failing past us was Ty’vek back towards camp. To my surprise, there were at least a twenty long beaked fruit eating birds flying after him. Apparently, Ty’vek only knew one spell and it was to cast a area ranged fire casting, that had knocked the birds from their roosts and infuriated them... all. Of course we saved him from their wrath disposing of them all. He would always run off in the opposite direction and then scream running back with the mess he created, orc’s, sabers, and otherwise. He taught me to become very alert in the jungles, especially with the novices.
I am aware, his life had a more profound effect on the living individuals he was close to, either for ill, or that of good. That they will carry his memory onward from their own perspective. I am aware, he had only asked my advice on hair color, or mates, because he respected my opinions, respected my perspective even though it greatly differed from his own. He sought out my company, trusted my skill, my presence, my tolerance. I do believe he thought of me as brother, as he had stated this many times. I am aware, that his pestering, his intentional irritating demeanor was not done in malice but in his living volatile mannerism of faults and imperfections to indicate that he cared. A wasted care towards the unliving being that could not reciprocate it as intensely, nor as obsessively as Ty’vek shared that nature. In my perspective, he was an overly vibrant irritating shit that I had the honor to call friend. A random walk up, that never walked away... I could not rid myself of him, even if I tried.
I would shed the living tears of mourning. I would hail, and greet this friend as brother. I would have impaled myself upon the blade that took his life, in his stead, yet, I cannot. I did not have one word to say, to reassure those around me that were mourning.... The sky wept where I cannot, the voices of the living spoke of his life chronicles, what he had contributed towards, his deeds, his victories, his failures, and yet words I was without. As it is said silence speaks a thousand words. My heart had joined that thousand in silence... in respect.
Do I grieve?
I believe I do, as the absence is greatly felt. Unlike his body, my friend’s memory is like tempered steel, made stronger by the heat of fire of his fleeting life, that etched and burned it’s way into my mind.
Farewell, The Prince of Pouts.
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rarhuk · 6 years
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Hyacinth...
“ Her curled petals host ghosts of memories. Eagerly It takes in upon a sighing breath, a perfume of her mortality. “
Those of the old know of the frost lotus, the talandra’s rose, what they represent to our once offerings to our spirits and gods, of sacrifice, of love and beauty, of the endurance to survive in such extreme weather. However, fragmented and lost throughout time has been the importance of the hyacinth. A flower that was once placed upon caskets, and burned within our pyres, that represented remembrance for all things that are fragile and the loss that comes with such things. All these flowers at one time were found in abundance, used in rituals, drink, and offerings. Yet, as things fell into ruin they became a rarity of beauty, as many things had become their importance forgotten. There was a story my mother used to tell me, that in my youth that I held a great fondness for....
There was once a great city in my life time called Jintha'kalar. It had began as an outpost of our great nation that pushed the into the brink of our reach into the lands of dragons and ice. Of course in my life time we used another name to reference the region, yet, now on maps, and all indications in common tongues it is called Dragonblight. Jintha'kalar, was the new shining star in my ancestors time, bustling, and booming. A place where great generals, and travelers, and merchants alike,from all corners of the great capital of Gundrak sought to make their fortunes.
My mother spoke fondly of the place she had once been, although at the time of my youth I had never traversed. I thought it fascinating, her retelling of the sights, the smells, the overwhelming nature in comparison to her home village, as she retold such things from her perspective from her youth. The truth of the matter was that it did not hold a fire flicker of light to the immensity Zul’drak by any means, yet at the time I had no knowledge of this, so in my youthful mind’s eye, the scale of such surpassed all of what I knew, and became fantastical in scale. A land of dragons, wild and untamed, and here this city of purest gold shone bold bright and true in my mind’s fabrications. My kind mother Krena the white, told of all the opportunities that could found within Jintha’kalar’s wall, that one could be free, live as they wanted, to love, to build, to craft, and that all ambitions were rewarded.
She told me of the things to be wary of as all great bold and bright cities had cast dark shadows as well. She spoke of a fair young maiden at the time of the city’s beginning, before the walls were finished. She had been a servant, an unwanted child to begin with cast away by her parents due to a clubbing nature of her foot upon her birth. It was typical to end the life of the deformed upon birth, but at times one such as this was kept for other tasks, be it of sacrifice, menial tasks, or to be given to the priests and higher ranks as servants. She had been a case of one sent to a priest. The priest had used her as servant, as well as mender for those of lesser ranks in his home, he had always treated her as kindly as his busy position allowed. As long as she did her tasks she was allowed free range of what the city offered.
The maiden happened to meet a traveler, that frequently gave her hyacinth to wear in her hair.... She held no rank, she held no name that could be sullied with marrying below her class, no restrictions to love freely, other than that she belonged to the priest. Her days were filled with happiness, and opportunities when one found enough love in their hearts to it share with another. The maiden began to slack in her duties as many preoccupied minded youths did. This brought a confrontation between her and the priest as he demanded to know what was causing this. She was honest and true spoke of her love, and her intent on becoming the traveler’s mate. This infuriated the priest, between threatened curses, and forbidding the continuance of relationship, the maiden believed she was doomed. She followed the priests wishes with a sad heart, and constant avoidance of the traveler, yet that too wouldn’t be so. The traveler persisted on seeing her, speaking of an offering of great riches that he could present to the priest that no male in their right mind would refuse, and if the priest did they would run away together. He just had to retrieve the goods. To make good on his word of his soon return, he gave her his sword to hold onto. She was to wait for him at a small island at a the lake, in the stone gazebo that the lovers had frequently met at. With sword in hand, she set out to wait her traveler’s return.
It is assumed the priest had seen the interaction, and heard of the plot to win him over with material goods, that he did not want anything to do with. He wished only for one thing, and that was control over the maiden to obey him. He was older, he needed someone to care for and tend to him, he did not want to be alone. In short he didn’t want to lose her. If he could not have her, no one ever would, these thoughts festered within. In his rage knowing that he could not control the maiden, that anything he said or did would push her further away from her fealty to him, the priest acted rashly. It is speculated the priest called forth a powerful curse upon maiden. It was so powerful that maiden could never leave that small island at the center of the lake until she obeyed his commands, yet what those commands would be, it was never found out.
The traveler came, yet, the maiden was bound. She did not hunger, she was unharmed physically. She could speak, she could move about on the small island, but she could not leave. She had told the traveler where the priest could be found, because she believed he would have the answers. It is believed the traveler killed the priest, for no one ever found the body. For years, many searched for answers, prayed to the spirits, read from tablets, spoke to priests, and others of the city to no avail. It is difficult to undo a curse if one does not know the specifications of what is required to reverse it.  No matter how she offered forth his blade to return he would not take it. At first the traveler would visit often with hyacinth, yet as time drew on, and offerings to her became less. Perhaps, it was his love and devotion had diminished, perhaps he had grown old and weary and could not make to the island to visit her. Yet, she remained unchanging, as the world around her did, the people she knew no longer existed. The pillars, the benches, the island itself began to crumble around her, yet even as these things fell, she still remained. The island was no more, and she became, The maiden of the lake... The maiden of Drak’Mar.
My mother spoke that forever there is a circle of water lilies that surrounds the place of where the island, and where she once stood. That even when she was child, there would be those that offered her hyacinths, to bid her to wait that the answers would be found and she would be freed from her watery prison. Each time the flowers were offered, the maiden would and offer the spectral sword as it had dissolved long ago. Those that would take the sword, would later find it fading from their hands, only to be returned to the maiden.
As a child I would beg my mother eagerly to take me to this city and lake. I would free this maiden, I would be the one with the answers to give. Yet, when I ventured to this city, it was not until many years later by a different directive than my own will. These childhood hopes, these dreams, these tales whispered in my mother’s voice by the night time fire light of what the city was like, had been squashed under my own feet, impaled by my own blade. I had been one of those amongst the final wave of Scourge that had destroyed Jintha’kalar and had left it in ruins. I had selected those that had fallen that would be beneficial, to be risen again. What of the city I would have had known, or would have known in life was lost to me. I had a part in assimilating into the Scourge before such a chance to gain a better understanding was presented. I was apart of the evil that tainted the waters with the sounds of anguish and our people’s blood. I never truly saw the city, nor learned if such old tales were true. I have no desire to find out. My mere presence would be an offense to such things.
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I have not thought of this tale in some time.... Although it seems to be a current theme on my mind.
Perhaps, it is my current status, that has caused me to reflect on it. The priestess has rejected my proposal.
I do believe it holds a relevance, this tale verses what has happened between the two of us.
To take in account, I was in my blood presence at the time. Which as most occurrences of relevance happen, during a conversation. I had met the Priestess Shayna in the elven city of Silvermoon, as Orgrimmar has seemed too busy of late. I had some forge work to do, hence my blood presence for quicker motion of my frame. The constant temperature of the lava, makes for a better blades, the area in which to work is better suited for my needs as well. I spent time speaking with associates for some time before the two of us departed to walk as she wished once I was finished with my tasks. We came to the fountain at the Bazaar, I have always found the Sin’dorei fountains, masonry, architecture, fascinating since my first time within their walls. I can study the textures, and skill of craftsmanship for hours on end in silence. I reminiscence often on the comparisons between my past living era, and the relation to the now within different cultures, and the similarities. Shayna asked me if it was my favored place within the city, so I took the opportunity and fluidity of my mind set to speak on many things I had been reflecting on, such as recent conversations with other individuals.
There was some reaction on her face, I did not understand, I could not comprehend. I do believe it was because of the current topic, but I could not fathom the source. Perhaps, it was in the manner in which I spoke, for suddenly the topic transformed from not of what I spoke on, but to her personally. I attempted to clarify that I was speaking on the virtues of friendship, that understanding was not always required. As many could not understand, my positions, my purpose, my placement in continuing as I am, but they did hold a certain amount of empathy. I spoke on as individuals, we are truly are alone, that each personal experience in lives, or unlife is what separates us. As we cannot live another life, we cannot understand completely what another endures, or what they have suffered, but we can seek out to hold a compassion for their difficulties and struggles. Regardless, if we as individuals feel the same, or in some cases nothing at all, at least to display an emphatic ear towards their issue at hand, that it is required to be a good friend. It did not pertain directly to her, it had been apart of previous conversation with another individual, however, she did not take it as that. I continued onward regardless of the expression, as if my words would clarify enough that her expression would change to one of understanding. I spoke of the differences of things such as my state, and that as the forsaken, that the living at times expected a change. Yet, change is not as readily available to those as myself, compared to the living. I had spoke to my associate earlier on this subject as he spoke of an morose of a forsaken that could not be sated when personal questions, and attempts to help the individual failed. At times it cannot be helped, one must elect to either pursue to aid with the understanding there may never be a change in such a demeanor. That at times, one can only aid those willing, or that are capable to help themselves. At other times, there is nothing to be done about it, as many of the unliving are quite set in there ways as it is apart of their design. To reach past such things, is not always possible, or realistic. That a living being at times must come to an understanding, that the undead will never be achieve to be enough for them.
Shayna began to struggle and speak of things such as having children, and her place in the world, and of her life at my side. It threw me off course, and this where the miscommunication seemed to arise from. I had not been speaking of our personal relationship. Yet, since the topic was there I listened to her words, and that too seemed to leave me perplexed. There were expectations there upon her wording, upon her tone that I had not heard before, yet, those too needed to be addressed. I discarded my previous relaying of the previous conversation I had with another individual, and made it a personal reflection as she had, to be at the same pace. Only because she spoke, of me being Enough for her, with such a tremble upon her tone. I believed, she believed such a statement to be the truth at the time, there was no outward lie to deceive me, personally. I began to believe she was merely lying to herself, that she responding to me in attempts to deny of her natural living state. I could tell I had caused her to become distraught, and she was struggling. She spoke of me seeking out the loa in attempts to become more, than I am currently. There were now accusations on the tone that I had not done enough, to try. Upon her expressions, and tones, there was an emotional volatility. She kept touching to me, my face, my hands, my arms in a desperation I could not understand as she was not clarifying. I held no blame, nor anger, or any emotion in her direction at this point, I was merely perplexed as to what she was trying to get across. I then saw it, it was in her eyes... It was an ending. A look I had seen so many times, and I had never sought, nor thought I would see it in her gaze, in my direction, because of what I had done, or had not done for her behalf.
Death, as violent, or as tranquil, as it can be, is a beautiful process to witness, as much as it is painful. It is a garden of the sweetest, and of the most repelling of scents. It longs, it aches, it dances, it thrives, all in the same moment in rising crescendo of all the failures, and achievements. It is the full cup of life being emptied, slowly, until a drop no longer remains in the gifted goblet. It is the fear of the unknown, it is celebration of the there after, in a melancholy of those remaining eternal. For those such as I, it is a reminder of our mortal coils, a reminder of what can never be. There in her eyes, in those desperate tears, she beheld me at an end. A small death, but one just as beautifully painful. All I could see upon that fragility, were ghosts. Broken spirits that would never gain the solace of a peaceful slumber. Numerous faces, that I in life had not been enough for, and that I in my undeath would never be enough for. My counter points were too valid. As she spoke of hope in redemption I had only one question formulating for her to answer. Yet, I had to clarify first, I held back my question as she continued to speak. She continued of there being a someone out there that would love me, that I would one day find true happiness with them. That I deserved to be loved. She was projecting all her wishes, and hopes, and dreams upon the face death. She did not understand, she could not....
I.... Have.... Accepted.... What... I... Am.
I am as I was intended, my purpose, my design, I can only deviate so much from. I was not intended to love, or to be loved, I was not made by design to care. Yes, I have reached, I have expanded in different directions than my original design, but there are still limits. I lack in a vast amount of emotion that the living carry. One must accept that there is a possibility, that there is no more for me grow, or to change. I am in a spot unmoving, I am defined in part by my reanimation. Yes, there is some room to develop and explore, but there are limits. There are small possibilities of growth,  although, what I seek may never come to fruition, or there may be possible worse outcomes than what one expects. One must be prepared to face all these things that come with what I am, and have an understanding, and acceptance of what I am now,  I may never change. She believed, truly believed that one day I would become in her life time someone she could love and accept, if I would only change. She believed if she loved me, and cared for me enough that the power of that love, would change me into the male she wanted me to be, one that could love her back. I saw that death of that belief, she had truly believed, I would suddenly be able to love her as she deserves to be. There was a rise of anger in me so fierce I had to bite it back with closed fists at my sides.  Touching her, trying to reassure her, was no longer an option for me. I am volatile in blood presence and she seemed to understand as she was stepping back, that my urges were rising to cause harm. I would never act on these urges in the priestess direction, yet, I knew I would soon need to feed once this conversation was over. My proposal, was never one of love, it was out of convenience, it was one out of fealty, out of service, out of loyalty to her, not out of love. I told her, there may never be a moment I would ever be able to love her, that had to be expected when it came to courting me. No matter how much I wished to give her the living male I once was, it would never be. I had never pretended it would be otherwise. I am in the priestess’s service, and would be for as long as she would have me at her side. She spoke happiness, of change, of possibilities, long since out of reach for me. I am not living... I asked of her.
“ In ten years time, do you see yourself happy at my side? “
She spoke of methods to try to get me to change, possibilities, she spoke of others like myself being able to feel, that one day I may feel for her deeply. She spoke of many desires, of her hopes and dreams for me. Her expectations of a love filled life, and happiness, and care. Yet the question remained unanswered, as her own talk continued on those things I presented previously. That I may never be enough for her. She was a living being, that desired unconditional love, acceptance, and care for what she was. She was a priestess of the light, a healer, a mender, that needed the understanding of one that could touch on such subjects without physical pains, or burns from closeness. It was understandable for her to desire more from her life than what I could offer. It was if she was conflicted, debating, back and forth, going from one thing to next. So I repeated it again.
“ As I am now, can you honestly answer, in ten years time you would still be happy? “
She spoke of a building resentment, and bitterness of the heart. She spoke emotional afflictions, that she would have to face alone. She spoke of many things. In some of the things she spoke, she was correct in assuming what the future would bring to her with me at her side. She continued onward her thoughts more reflecting off of me, more than for me to answer. She deflected, she projected, some of which were true in my direction, and a few statements that were just projections of her own feelings upon my person. As I still felt nothing beyond what I currently feel, when the verbal tangent slowed enough, again I had asked.
“ Would you be happy? “
She answered and clarified for the both of on the third turn of the same question. That she could not live a life besides me, as she grew old and I remained the same, she could not live a life besides me without love. She could not continue as this was as she felt it was not going anywhere beyond what it was between us in the beginning. That it was not my fault. Her tears had faded, she wiped them away. “ No... I will not be happy in ten years, Ra’rhuk. “
Her answer was no, yet, then again I could see that in her gaze. Her answer had been no this entire time, and yet she was just realizing it, or perhaps, just putting a voice to it. She had deceived herself that I had been enough for her, her faithful guardian, her servant. She had needed, and deserved more from me than I could give. It was only natural. I am not angry at her for this. She may feel differently for me, yet, all I had offered still remains the same for me. I spoke of respecting her wishes as I always do, there is nothing I would deny the priestess including my absence from her side. I asked her if she needed an escort as I can offer no more comfort than this, but she felt too uncomfortable with my offering. She soon departed... leaving me to contemplate.
What the fuck just happened?
I am quite aware, that the living need all these things, comfort, love, care, to have children, to grow old besides, things I cannot provide for. Why did she accept to court in the first place? That I cannot understand, nor comprehend.... Why was what I spoke of suddenly so upsetting? How did the conversation go from someone else, and an entirely different subject, to be directed at her? These social complexities, elude me.
I had intended to give her a gift, that eve. She had been speaking quite often of needing a break and rest since the war was winding down. I arranged for a luxurious vacation in Pandaria, that I believed she would enjoy. I did this only because my request for a leave of absence from duties for a time from the Ebon Blade was granted. I recalled her early statements of being over worked and needing some time off, and I had taken them as hints in my direction to do something for her. I do believe it would be in poor taste to speak of it, now, considering.
I reflected on the story, the maiden unchanging, unable to reach past her watery prison.... to her love that travels onward. Are certain things that are just not meant to be? Can what is considered conflicting at the same time, is the same thing as what attracts? In the absence of desire, do we still long for what we cannot truly have? Is presence, protection, and undying fealty, truly not as strong as love, to endure throughout the ages? These questions I have been pondering, although, there is nothing I can do to change the frailty of the living condition, as much as a living being can do nothing to change my enduring one.
The hyacinth, remembrance... As she moves on in her life, I wish for her happiness. I do not wish for only ten years of happiness for her, but with every breath taken. I wish for her to find love, not just for a few heart beats, but every one. I wish for her to be the traveler in the tale, to live beyond confines, and prisons, to live as she is meant to be. I wish for her to continue onward without regrets, without tears spilled for the unfeeling undead. I do hope one day she forgives my inability to live up to her expectations that she requires for a mate. As I had never intended to injure her with my request, as I had. For me it changes nothing. If she ever requires my services, I will be at her beck and call upon her request.
I was grateful that my uncle became available to do tasks. I needed the break of thoughts, just to slaughter, and to speak to another that shares my condition. He has considerable insight to the living that I at times lack. He does not confuse me as frequently as the living tend to do.
--------------------
It was a selfish endeavor to seek her company. I am drawn to the priestess. There is more to it than the conflicting nature of our beings, besides the ties to my past in which another had been denied to me. I too desire more from myself than I am capable, it was unfair to use her as an experiment. I pushed her into situations she should not have been included, I have failed her repeatedly. All because of my darker nature that wishes to corrupt, and to cause suffering. I felt anger, not towards her, but myself for cherishing every tear spilled because of my words, cherishing that heartache she wore upon her expression, her pain and suffering was sweet, sweeter than I expected. I had not breathed once during our whole conversation until the end. Yet, the scent, the flavor, I savored it, for a moment, the briefest of moments I held that figurative heart in my hand. The sorrow, the regret, the yearning for more. It was glorious... In a alternate world where I was living, I believe I would be devastated, I believe I would be heart broken that it had ended. In this reality, every ounce of my being basked in that single breath of torment just hold it for my own, to become tormented myself. To surround myself in her blanket of despair, as shattered hopes and dreams dissolved in the wake of her depart. How could a being of light, ever come to accept such portions that is my design?
If she had elected to stay at my side, I would enjoy those years of her pain. To watch her grow, blossom, and each petal of her life slipping away. I would enjoy each mixed look in her gaze of love and pain, knowing I was the one causing her suffering. I would enjoy those moments where she gazed upon children yearning, wishing for her own, knowing there would be none from me. Each moment of her life at her side, siphoning from her mortality until there was nothing of her youth to give, no light, no joy, all that remained was resentment, and pain, and I would have fed off that too, too eagerly. It would have been wrong for me to do... and I would have enjoyed it. Instead I let her go.. I let her believe that it was a decision that had been made jointly. I did not plead for her to stay, nor make empty promises I could not keep. Although the urges screamed at me, to make her endure little more, a life time worth, to draw out suffering, to lie to her, to tell her I would change for her, that because of her I would learn how to love.
Every moment near her, I am in conflict. My urges speak to behave one way, while my mind curbs it for the most part. I believe those darker urges were my motivation to ask the proposal in the first place. I could say, it was because she was alone, I could tell myself it was because she was available, open minded enough to possibly accept who I am, or many other reasons as to why I pursued her, yet, they are all excuses. It was to harm her, it was to insert myself into a life that I did not belong. It does not justify my behavior, it merely clarifies it. I want a life I cannot have, I crave to feed off it, I crave to feel more than I am capable of alone by devouring their lives. Those I draw near to, suffer for it... much to my enjoyment. It is unreasonable, and unfair for me to pursue these things.
The possibility of ever feeling love, or happiness, is not for one such as I am... I am beyond such things. For but a moment, I can hold it, witness it’s splendor from a detached view, and watch while it’s life and light fade away under my cruel grasp.
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rarhuk · 6 years
Text
Damsel in distress?
A dead man has no hostage to give to fortune...
In my life, there were unspoken traditions, a set of standards that were gender based. The males were set on a path from birth of protecting and providing, the females were set in nurturing and maintaining stability for the next generations to come. Males held power, held wealth, held title and position in which would set a standard for a mated couple, within a mated couple’s union in which these balances of duty were achieved. The females provided a family the path in which oral, and unspoken traditions would be passed down, and therefore gave her mate and herself a taste of immortality,ensuring their continuation onward, in ill, or that of good. It was not questioned, it was the way of life, the typical life style commonality found throughout the nation. A mate and family, was the greatest blessing from the spirits that one of any rank could hope to achieve in their life time. There were of course exceptions to the general rule, great healers and menders, water binders, fire weavers, warriors, priests, prophets, head hunters, those of both genders that either lacked in, or exceeded all expectations of those unspoken rules to become beyond that of a commoner in goals. Those that became the old tales of legend, those that offered hope, and wisdom, defining who we were as an individual, and as a whole. Stories by fire light that spoke of salvation and redemption, those unattainable reaches to be captured within triumphant crescendo, that all could value regardless of status or worth, when times were tough.
I met a Sin’dorei man, marred by runes of demonic design. He had approached while I traversed the elven city during my off duty allotted time frame. He asked many questions of myself, the typical cordial inquiries. He was not as interested in what words I had to exchange than that of speaking of himself, the cordial seeming etiquette had been only a ruse as it is said to get a foot in the door. I have difficulties with emotions, the expressions, the motivations that go unspoken behind a mask, yet I can taste a lie. I can hear it within the coursing blood through living veins, smell it upon the quickened breath, see it in the adverting of gaze, see the sweat glistening upon the surface of the skin. I can taste a lie. On a verbal level, his words sounded as anyone that living being that is.... lonely, or bored. His expressions seemed earnest, he did not sweat, nor advert gaze, yet caution I used directing the conversation in his mannerism to speak only of himself as that seemed the interest. The lie was there but my mind questioned as to what it was that continued not to part his lips into words. I could feel it there as I watched his tongue worm about his mouth, as if it was serpent waiting patiently to ambush. For some time it did not occur to me that lie that remained hidden under a pulsing beat was not a lie but something else entirely that I had not considered. Here I was awaiting for some offer to buy cheap land, or slew of raptors at a too reasonable price.
I need help... please. Please, would you help me? Was all the man by this time I knew under a nickname of Kel, had asked of me.
Deceit can come in many forms that I am aware. However, this was unusual for me to try to decipher. I have had many, become, as this state, if there is an attraction towards myself, as it is not a social normality. Heart racing, breath quicken, attempts to hide the flush, and adverting gaze, sometimes they stare. Yet, I did not believe this was the lie of our interaction, I believed the individual was afraid to show any need that would bring attention to them. Although the words had become a tangled web, that I could not find the actual cause to single me out to approach me in such a manner. I found it entertaining as this may be a prospect to do a hit job, I am not a personal assassin. The longer my reflecting and introspecting thoughts wandered did the silence draw out between us, until it was broken by Kel.
Will you do it?
Of course I inquired about what I was expected to do. I did not expect to be asked to remove demonic runes from his person. However, the only solution I could think of at the time was to end his life, if that was what he was asking of me I had no qualms to do so. I am not a healer, or nurturer not in life, not now. I had always and will always be conformed into what was typical of my warrior rank. I clarified as much, and told him that I knew of another that may be able to purge the undesired corruption from his form. To hold patience, as it may take some days before I was contacted again. I had sent a letter to the priestess, informing her of what I was made aware of with this Sin’dorei’s affliction. Once contact was made, I explained further of what I knew.
I did this, of course not because of my own desire to help this man that reached out for one such as I to aid him. It was, because as I contemplated all that he had spoken, I believed she would want me to do so. I would rather draw out his suffering, I would rather he hide behind the cordial attitude than expose his hidden shame. The priestess would not approve of that, to keep company with those in discomfort. I have kept many things from her and others as to a part of the reason I keep company amongst the living as often in manner where there are many moving within the populace.
This individual held only my mild curiosity, as to why of all individuals in the city, he would come to me with this request. This curiosity was soon sated, and the conversation became... prattling. It solved nothing, nor did I care. He, himself elected to be bound to another individual a supposed master of the craft to become a tool. Kel speaking with spins on how I should be able to relate to my once tie to my own dark liege. The difference being, I did not have a choice in the matter. I held no desire to be ripped from my death to become a tool, whereas Kel’s greed for power caused him to seek out a taste beyond what is natural immortality. I do believe Kel, was attempting to find a sympathetic ear when he approached me in his desperation. He to his disappointment found none. His detailing of his acts under his owner did have my interest as they were most intriguing, yet with the same amount of mortal lust of power and self ambitious interest. He found me no matter what city I went to while I was awaiting the priestess’s response. He continued to speak in hushed tones, as if telling me a grave secret as if I have never encountered evil deeds, before as if in attempts to keep my intrigue on his condition. I finally broke down, just to have peace of silence on the topic to see a portion of these runes. Of course it was not of the kind I am accustom to seeing, yet I could recognize from that small exposed portion demonic influence. The surrounding tissue smelled of gangrene rot, festering fel boiling, I did not take a further breath around this Kel, as I did not trust my own urges not to be manipulated further.
Once the priestess Shayna had responded, she had done so in person. I had clarified about the condition, and that I would be present at all times if she was to be around this Kel, as I did not trust him. Introductions were made and so forth, she examined his condition and offered some treatment options. I was not concerned either way, both seemed pleased. I escorted Shayna some where that Kel would not be present. I spoke of my reservations, that this individual was altered not only in body, but in mind, that he did indeed wanted to be cured at this current time, but may in fact change his mind at a later date. She spoke at length to this individual when we did encounter him, he wished to speak outside the city limits as it was private matter. I held no outward objections as my presence was required to be there. I am aware of the dangers that would present a living individual, to take another outside viewing eyes can present many opportunity for an unsavory engagement, such as an ambush, or tactical advantage.
It was not to be so, he only wished to show his marked and sealed frame beyond what had been exposed to my view before. Again I held no objections, yet, Kel had asked repeatedly if I cared. She is a medical provider, I hold no care if she examined a patient. She examined him and spoke of not seeing a condition such as this before, but she may do some consultation with other healers for insight into the matter as to best treat this affliction. There were no wards, or charms of protection she could grant him at the time.  
It was some time later that I received word from Kel, he was in Uldum having believed he had a cure. He requested my presence and the priestess’s presence to aid him. I have been to Uldum, it was some time ago, if I recall correctly. Perhaps years, yet it seems but a moments breath away. I was uncomfortable in the position to guard the discovered artifacts and those on the team. While I was working for a expedition team whose focus was on archeology artifacts, through observation of the teams discoveries I learned much about the Tol’vir the slave race I formerly called Obsidian Destroyers, and the Aqir. I called the Aqir in my life time Qiraji, although, in my time amongst the Scourge, they were commonly referred to as Nerubian, a habit I hold to this day. I was not aware these stone sentinels of the north had a connection to those in the desert wastes until that point in time, they were simply an enslaved race to be used as fodder on the front lines. The artifacts I found fascinating, the history intriguing, yet, I did not care for the sun and sand, and the constant bickering of my charges. They were searching for something specific, with sour emotional moods that were unproductive. I worked with the company until their funding ceased. I was not given coin as I had been promised, the leader begged for my forgiveness in an emotional hysteria due to self inflicted fears of how I would respond. The individual offered me a token of gratitude instead, proclaiming that it’s worth was more than that of coin. Of course there was nothing to forgive I was not offended, nor did I hold a desire to remain in their company. I merely departed as my services were no longer required, nor funded.  It appeared to be nothing more than the paw of a small primate. A closer inspection showed that the hand has been dried by centuries of exposure to the sands. It was only when I departed the team, did the gifted item begin to curiously move and make sounds. I left it in the sands, uncertain if I had raised the appendage by proximity, or if some other sorcery was a foot. The disembodied hand followed me, therefore, I gave it a name as it seemed to hold an uncanny intelligence, That.  Yet, my past time in that place caused me to wonder currently, what did Titan technology, or assumed Aqir technology have to do with demonic runes. I was curious...
I arranged that Shayna would meet me in the location disclosed in the letter, to investigate it further on Kel’s request. She arrived a few moments after the appointed time, while I was speaking to Kel. He seemed interested on the hieroglyphs on a wall, they seemed to be speaking of a staff, and yet Kel was not relaying what I knew to be written correctly. I thought perhaps his interpretation was different than those of the company from long ago, and perhaps that was why they left empty handed. I also noticed he had robotic constructs patrolling the area while we spoke, I believe it was to ensure his safety as he had spoke often about what an important person he was that I had asked before as to why he had no physical guard to watch over him. He had merely explained he had other means of protection. I assumed this was it.
He and Shayna spoke at length, I merely observed. That had decided to make an appearance, in which Shayna voiced her delight towards seeing the being. I do believe she has a fondness for That, for every time she sees the disembodied hand her voice rises in pitch, and the hand responds with chitters and motions that indicate excitement. I hold no rule over this strangely enchanted thing. I have attempted to sell it. I have attempted to give it away, yet the hand always returns when it wills. I have merely accepted it’s on going presence and absence. Shayna began to speak of the techniques she had learned that may aid Kel relieve his affliction, that may sever the link from him and his master that it would take time. Kel believed light had an influence to null the corruption that here in the chamber of the stars there may be a way to undo what had been done to him. They began discussing it at length, I cared not for the conversation only that it seemed to have no correlation to what ailed Kel. He spoke of being in constant pain and discomfort, that the tools here may amplify what Shayna skills attended him with ten fold.
It grew dull, as if awaiting for anything beyond just idle words to occur. When Kel spoke of one of his robotic sentinels having not returned, and his request for me to see to it, I at first spoke of having no knowledge of these devices that perhaps That could see to it. The hand of course responded with a rude gesture before scurrying off, it was left to me to retrieve the device. I believed patrolling the area was beneath me, as it was my duty to protect the priestess. Yet, Shayna and Kel spoke of needing my absence when dealing with the light that this would be a good opportunity for me to depart, I was handed a communication device to keep in contact. I did not trust the individual to be alone with Shayna for even the shortest expanse of time. He had done nothing to cause an indication that he was a threat, he was weakened by his condition, yet the corruption on his form indicated there were more powers at work. I am not one to underestimate any being from becoming a potential foe.  Yet, I abided to the request taking my leave to patrol the area.
I kept frequent contact, although having to pause to dispatch the reason his robotic device was not responding. The equipment had disturbed a skeleton guardian amongst rubble of boulders, the animated corpse was dismantling the wires that made the thing function. I did not disturb it from doing so at first because I found it entertaining. It reminded me much of a ghoul beset upon prey. Yet each time the bone structured hand had hit upon the metallic flesh of the robot arching sparks ensued much to the skeleton’s increasing rage. I merely watched for a time, before I decided to end the cursed beings existence and return the ruined construct back to it’s rightful owner. As soon as it had been destroyed as where there was no sparking or indication that it would malfunction while I held it, in other words I allowed the skeleton to kill the construct dead, before I returned the favor to the animated bones. I find it peculiar, these beings that are much like myself are risen by other means. They seem to hold emotion easily, even ghouls have more... of what I lack. Is it because they remain dormant? How can mere bones, or a disembodied without a heart, without a soul, hold emotion, such as great rage, or delight? How do portions, pieces, reanimated objects retain such things? Is there a possibility if I discover the source of this I could breech those boundaries for myself? I had little time to investigate it further. As I had ended the skeleton, I called once more on the communication device to find no response. I inspected it, to ensure there was no malfunction, as perhaps my proximity to the malfunctioning construct had damaged it. I pressed the button again only to hear Shayna scream my name not through the device but through the echoing of the chamber.
I left the construct, making haste toward the two of them last known location. Perhaps, more of these cursed beings had risen, and my assistance was needed. Yet, as my approach around the square corner revealed there was but a portal, and Kel, Shayna was missing from my visual. Kel’s features were distorted, and before I made it fully to the area he had slipped into the portal with a laugh as it faded from view. I was left with my own devices, yet none could I use at the time or location to follow. I had been betrayed under false pretenses of requiring aid, that realization that I had brought the priestess to become kidnapped infuriated me. Kel would not have to concern himself over demonic runes when I was done with him.
Once I found them....
I had hoped That had followed Shayna, but that was not to be so. I instead contacted my uncle, the jin of the tribe I work for. He has many tribe members that could aid me, I needed a mage. One that could touch upon the source of the arcane, to follow where this particular portal had gone. Yet, to get to this skilled mage, I had to go through another to access to gain this skill set I now required. Ren’nari, my blood cousin....
The history there is thick... In my life I did not know Ren’nari had been my uncle’s son. A silver tongue lie presented by my father’s second mate, Mara’fi. As far as I had been aware, the child my father had used for his sport of pit fighting the amphitheater to gamble with. Ren’nari was merely an unwanted that Mara’fi had taken in, that my father had found a use for. That was all I had been aware of, I did not know the connection to my deceased uncle the child had, I did not recognize the youth as one my benefactors children as that had been hidden from me. I, personally in life had been disgusted by this use of slaves for gladiators in practice, as I believed it was beneath our ranks to do so, yet, I had my own life. I had my own duties, and ambitions. I could not allow that portion of my family’s lifestyle dominate my focus, I chose in majority to ignore it, yet, there had been moments I had spoke out about my disdain for such practices. Of course my father would not hear of such things from his sons, we were to continue to contribute to his misuse of our earnings as long as we held title amongst our regiments, or our mothers would suffer for it. There were many times I thought of killing my father, yet, that too I had been denied, as another had stuck him down.
Since my uncle brought me into the fold of his tribe, I have done tasks and duties for those within his ranks. I have had many charges, including that of Ren’nari’s mates. Regardless of the task, or my performance of duties, Ren’nari holds animosity in my direction as if I was the direct cause of any disruption of prosperity regardless of the circumstance. I allow it, as perhaps this anger in my direction is not the result of performance but that of past pains reflected upon my appearance, as I am my father’s son. The living tend to project that negativity upon those that they feel... safe to do so with. It irritates me, yet I will only tolerate the expressed behavior to a point. There will come a time, where my cousin will not feel, safe, around my presence to behave in such a manner. Convincing Ren’nari to use his female to locate Shayna caused a large disruption with the male, yet, he conceded her abilities under one condition that he too would allowed to be apart of seeking justice to this offense against the priestess, and the tribe. Many things are to be said about my cousin, yet, his mannerism of taking everything as personal insult, is baffling, entertaining, as well as to be used as a tool of manipulation to gain what one requires from him.
My uncle instructed me to go to his temple in the north to await orders from there. Later it would be granted as to how I would contribute in the search once they were established at the originating location as many of the members were investigating my folly. As Shayna may return to the temple, if she escaped.
It was then in the temple of my kin, I came to the realization that they perhaps kept me there in a means to pacify an emotional discord due to the event of the betrayal. Yet, I felt only one thing, rage. I had underestimated a potential foe, and had my generosity of service to those of horde taken advantage of. The offense I felt was not of my own. I cared not that another would use me, I cared not that I, myself was misled, it was the living’s well being at threat that angered me as this. I knew not what she would face at this individuals malice, I knew not what was wanted from her. I could not see past the pretense of desire to be healed. Shayna is not a weak, or delicate female, nor is she of a warrior’s mentality, she is a healer. It disturbs her to watch me feed, it bothers her to see others wounded as it is her nature to wish to heal those that are injured, to give solace and compassion. I admire those attributes greatly, as it makes the life of the living more productive in the time they have to live. Those I would turn from, she provides for, at times I have felt this as a needless act that can inflict as much needless emotional injury upon her person. Yet, I have found while in her company it is a needed pursuit for her to try to mend the wrongs and injustice the world has inflicted, in small and large ways. She contributes by the means in which she was blessed regardless of the outcome, because she does not have a choice. In a way she is just a slave to her design and purpose as I am to my own. Neither of us can stray too far from our confines, without returning to what we are.
I listened to the voices coming from the bijou communication devices, familiar voices, of those that are kin, and those were close enough to be considered brethren to the Jin. It could have been hours, or even a full day worth of speaking, yet no word as to where she could be found. My oversights had caused this, my attempts to justify it as something done because it was her influence did not excuse my faults in the matter. I would not have continued to speak to this Kel, yet I believed it would be something of interest for Shayna, to heal and mend someone that was requesting it. Did not excuse me from leaving her side, I had failed in my duty to protect her. The fact she was still missing proved as much.
A sound from the steps at the temple’s entrance had my attention drawn from the device I held. I was surprised I had not heard it sooner, and yet there she stood, a physical dishevelment, carrying Kel in her arms before she dropped him at the base. She was bleeding from cuts, bruised, her hair no longer a large crest, her outfit in tatters, no escort, or sign of arriving escort behind, it was if she was making an offering of that prone body on the ground. There was silence between us, before I merely said she was, late. It was too late in the day by the lighting outside to make an offering, and perhaps the jest was done in ill taste. I believe she was in distress, however, I am not a good judge of things. She began to explain she was not done with him, that she wanted one more attempt to correct this, to save Kel’s life. My only thought was to end him, as he was not only a threat to her, or myself but those citizens of the horde.
Shayna spoke of him pushing her through the portal but she would not be a willing victim, she fought at great length for what seemed like hours. That he suddenly had impossible strength for his appearance and she believed the magic that he was under the sway of contributed to this strength. Yet, light seemed to be his weakness, and that was the tool she had used to combat him. She also stated he had minions in this undisclosed location, and that she had traveled for again what seemed hours until she began to recognize the landscape. I believe I may be incorrect in some regard in my previous statement she may not have a warriors mentality, but she has a heart and spirit of one. She had made it home, without a valiant rescue, she had not been a damsel in distress, but a heroine. She could have been tortured, she could have been killed, but fought against odds that were against not only succeeding in rendering her foe unconscious but returning with him still intent to cure what remnants of his soul that remained in the shell of the body. Who was I to deny her continuing efforts? I believed she earned it.
I made a suggestion, to possible save Kel. If the ward was only corrupting the body and mind due to the fact he was alive, perhaps we should make an attempt to null the effects by killing him, temporary of course. If I killed him, she could remove the ward, then raise him from that small death to be completely healed. She wished to try once more without going to that extreme, that again I allowed it. Turning my back as she attempted to erase the ward while he was in that state unconsciousness. Apparently it did not succeed, for one moment Kel was unmoving and then the next he was launching himself at my person. I removed my weapon swiftly from it’s sheath as Shayna called out my name. In my swift turn I had impaled him under the chest, in which he sunk upon as if he was made of shadow. These sudden motions of action and violence had disturbed the priestess further, which irritated me immensely, as I desired to draw out his death slowly. I pulled my blade instead from his body quickly. She asked me not to let it end this way, just to allow her to heal him enough that he could be returned to the healing facilities in Dalaran. I am permissive to the priestess’s whims. If I was in her position from a tactical, and common sense stand point I would not allow him to live. Even as I was dispatching the barely living body to the medical providers in Dalaran I wanted him dead, yet I cannot refuse Shayna anything she wishes. It may not be out of pure passion or love, it may only be out of a sense of fealty to her. I cannot deny her wishes regardless if they make sense to me or not, I follow her demands unquestionably. Perhaps, my desire to fulfill her every wish to the precise nuance, is as powerful to her as a male that could give her true love, for she has yet to deny me my proposal.
I had returned to the temple to find her cleaned, drained of energy. She wished to speak on things, to spend time in my company as felt she could not sleep alone. She retold what had happened after I assured her I taken care of the matter, she should not concern herself over Kel. I apologized for my oversight of his deceitful behavior as well, and lack of service when it came to protecting her when it was needed. She spoke of needing closeness, and therefor I joined her in the furs to ease her mind of these thoughts that plagued her. I had fed on my return to the temple, to sate that urge to kill Kel, instead of doing it. I was aware she would not want me to kill him, and even though there had been an opportunity for me to do so on the flight I had not. I did not wish to displease her, even if she would not be aware if I lied. I had believed at the time there had been too much deceit to betray her in any degree this day, I had obeyed her regardless on my own desires. I wished to ease her mind of what caused this distress in her, and spent my focus on her what would please and ease her well being.
My focus had been so intent on erasing my failure to her, it did not resonate until later that evening that I had forgotten to speak of having Shayna at the temple. All I can assume was that she had spoke with the Jin and others for as I laid with her in the darkness lit only by pyre light within the temple did someone approach. My irrational, enraged cousin.... He held means to speak with me. I recall this clearly, his expressions, his vulgarity in words, his poise to do battle with me. To be frank, I was not going to tolerate the behavior any longer. Shayna had just found some peace, his arrival and presence was disturbing it. She was not content, therefore neither was I, if this altercation came to exchanging blows on her behalf so be it. He should not dishonor the priestess with such ill begotten terms. I prepared myself to take the oncoming impact to retaliate...
That was all... blackness, nothingness... The next moment I found myself in Shayna’s home, on her plush comforts of pillows and furs, confused and disorientated. Her face close to mine her tone but a question of my name “ Ra’rhuk? “
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rarhuk · 7 years
Text
Are you, damaged?
( The title is a running, joke between our two DK’s... this expanse has been very humorous, from glitches, to some of the mishaps that happen during quest lines. Some are so crazy, that the temptation to make it ic is irresistible. It is a question that seems to be constantly brought up. )
I have not been sated of late, finding most of the tactical advances, in short idiotic. It has infuriated me more then once. Any progress we have met with a step in advance, has been on the course of taking two steps back. I cannot sate what requires to be constantly fed. This frustration is found in all things, not one above another, yet in all ways, at once.
First off, I will begin with the Ebon Blade, following this new king’s directive to begin with is folly, and yet they continue to pursue the requests as if it is an order they cannot deny. Not only that, I can easily tell it is to slough off responsibility upon lesser ranks, if the mission fails. I find this to be beneath the order, and yet they pursue these whims to all ends. My uncle and I used our influences and intelligence to guide a mission towards a better course for all. In that, I am content with the outcome and will not write any more details that may, or may not, at a later time incriminate. Yet, the frustration and agitation at such short sightedness is a constant when dealing with the order. They are desperate.
I was severely damaged.... Although still functioning, it was not to full capacity. To explain... Raji’din and I, were beset upon a cave to infiltrate. Apparently there were creatures that had been corrupted within the chambers. Chamber’s that I might add, that would have been darkened enough that my vision would be capable of seeing without any obstruction in a typical means. Alas, they were riddled with mana laden crystals, that lit the cavern obnoxiously. Not only that, but inhabiting these lit confines were dryad casters. I fucking hate spell casters, when their focus is my person. They are the only ones with the abilities to disorientate me, they are capable of many things that can hinder my progress if they are skilled enough. Raji’din entered the chamber before me, I followed only to be blinded by a searing light that impacted me directly in the face. I could not see, yet I felt the knock back that sent me flying into a crystal stalagmite that impaled my torso. I could not dislodge myself, although there was a great effort to do so, I was skewered. I believe one would consider this an embarrassing situation. Admittedly this injury later, effected what remains of my vanity. I would not be writing this journal if Raji’din had not been present, I would still be impaled on that crystal. It had taken him a great effort to remove me, yet he had done so in a timely manner that I could adjust my presence enough that I would not bleed out. He had aided me in removing the armor that had been embedded in my flesh and then we carried on. I intended on seeing a blood and flesh mender to aid what damage remained as I was faced with a dilemma, being in frost gave me a solidity of form, if I took on blood presence that side that was supported in ice would collapse in on itself. I could not feed, therefore I could not repair it properly.
Which brings me to the priestess... She confuses me as much, as she fascinates me. Others speak of what is the proper way to court and tend to a partner’s needs, such as cooking. I do not cook, not even in life did I cook, that was what the females did. Of course I knew how to toss a slice of meat on the fire, but to actually cook a balanced meal. No, I would not do that. This troll male spoke at length about cooking for females, that they appreciated males that cooked for them. I have never heard of this... Yet, I watched Shayna smile, watched how she looked to the male with approval and appraisal of such words. It infuriated me I did not know this skill to gain such a look from her gaze. I am aware she enjoys cooking for others, but I do not eat, I do not require the same sustenance as the living do. It is not only that, it is the subjects between us that keep arising up for some unseen cause that baffles me.
I took her aside to speak of these things that I have had on my mind, as it is my wish to be fair when it comes to her consideration and needs. I attempted to form words that were clear and concise about these, lack of urges, I feel in her company. I was not finished speaking when she spoke of me wanting space. I had no idea where this notion had sprung. I was merely speaking of...my difficulties, attempting to express my conflict. I had watched a couple for some time interact, by laughing, shoving, smiles, touches. I had asked Shayna if this what she had desired from me. Yet, in return she had spoke of things that I may want to do with her on an interaction level. I do not have the instincts to perform as this. While seeking insight to her wishes, I am confronted with not knowing what she wants from me. It is difficult for me to manage my frustrations at my own short comings when it comes to communicating. I did not wish to depart her company, yet as she continued to speak of making space, of parting ways, of taking breaks of each others company, a pain rose within the recesses and scorched my brain. Even though it was not my intended desire, I had to depart to feed, as my state had become more volatile in nature. This was all prior to my damage, and it set heavily upon my mind as I was impaled on that spear of a cave formation.
As I was impaled, I had thought at great length of these behaviors that Shayna was deserving of, none in which I seem capable of fulfilling. The doubt had settled in, if I, as I am, is actually capable of tending to a living’s needs, or desires. Why did I think a case of goods would prove my worth, when there was much that I lacked? My promises made to her seem distant and vague, compared to what she deserves to find with a male. I thought upon what had prompted me to put her in such a position as in accepting my proposition. I had not expected for her to accept, and now that she has, I do not know what to do with it. I am left confused.... uncertain. As I do not know what I desire from her, any more then she has spoken of what she desires from me. She does not deserve a death knight’s attention that finds himself impaled due to a bombardment of spells from a mere dryad. It was not a mistake, nor position I should have found myself in, in the first place. The consequences of such unskilled folly had claimed me, and mocked me in it’s triumph.
After that moment within the cave, Raji’din and I were called upon another duty to perform, in which we both decided to take a different course then was given. For our actions during the course of the mission we were engulfed by a shroud of holy light, I personally made a haste filled escape before any more damage could claim me, however, Raji’din was not as fortunate as I was. He appeared to be in weakened state, one that neither of us wanted to be made aware. We both decided to seek out repairs before it was noticed.
What I intended had not gone as planned.. It is frustrating, how intentions become as skewered as my form had been. I intended on being repaired and then speaking with Shayna, yet as I hesitated approaching the flesh menders, I was distracted. A certain item was being requested that I would need to retrieve, eventually. I had already made an appointment to speak with the priestess, therefore the repairs would have to once again wait.
I had been discussing events with Shayna when she had a desire to socialize with others. I found this confusing, as I was in the process of leading up to important topics that I had wished to speak on when she had this urge to depart to a more public setting. But of course, I will always put her wishes first. She would eventually grow bored and wish to do something else, and perhaps then I would explain. It happened, and I decided an adventure would be something that would interest her. I took her to an abandon village, and spoke of the possibility that she may wish to reside with the others there, or to use it as a base so to cut down travel between visits. It was then that she noticed my hindrance on the right of my frame where I had been impaled.
I was reluctant to show her... Not for the sake of my vanity, as much as it was for her reaction to what it would mean for her. That realization, I was not truly alive, that such injuries would have another in her state of being, dead. I did not want to shatter such illusions. A lie it is as we walk amongst the living, when we converse, that when we seek to be beyond what was our intended purpose and design. These lies, we tell ourselves and others, makes the suffering tolerable. It is that reveal, that certainty, that all is not as it seems, that it can never be what one truly wants that leaves a lingering disturbance in the senses. I did not want to show her the damage. I did not want to break the illusion that I was a living being, I did not wish to draw her more into what was dark. Yet, perhaps I did. Why else would I have waited so long to be repaired? Why did I wait to be in her presence to display that I was being hindered? I question my own motives.
She is not predominantly of the shadows in nature, yet in my company she takes to it, to spare me the discomfort, and to spare herself it as well. I have been told, by her own words that doing such causes a risk of insanity. This rises the questions as to why would she tread such paths? I value her mind, I value her light even though it is unbearable for me to touch, or to linger in. These things I value she would risk to be near me, to repair, to be... closer, to what I am... In that I question, my agenda... I was not designed for love, or compassion, I was designed for more sinister of purposes. That make up of what I am, is it not gearing, or delighting that she would sacrifice her light to be closer to me? Is it not beckoning that darkness to consume the light? Perhaps, my fascination with an innocent intent, was not just a curiosity but something more then I thought it to be. I began to question it more after she helped me repair with her shadow weaving and vials of blood. She slept besides me while I regained.
It became more apparent to me, after I took her along with me to feed. She watched, and she shied, from the screams of the victim that I delighted in. Her uncomfortable distraught display pleased me, added flavor to my meal. I intentionally subjugated a healer, a mender, a light to the people, the darkness in which I enjoy in. Then when I was finished, I continued to torment her with why I did not mind her presence while I dined. I spoke of how I enjoy watching others eat, even though I could not taste the flavor of the meal it brought up fond memories of the life time in which I once had. We spoke of our favored meals, and one being her’s was chocolate. I never in life encountered this delicacy, yet she enjoys it. I used it as an example as to when I feed, if all she had to eat was chocolate the rest of her days, done exactly the same way, every time she ate it. Would she not seek out new ingredients to flavor the meal, to alter the consistency, the way it rolled on the tongue, to add some variants to it? She had answered that she would... I then explained, that I do not torment my victims for days on end, I would not do such a thing, a few mere moments to add flavor to my meal. Even though we spoke at great length about my feeding, what I typically did, and that I would not ask her to come with me if she was uncomfortable. I realized how much I was enjoying reactions, and how much I enjoyed her watching me and being present, it did not matter the emotion that had been displayed as all had added flavor to it. It was the principle, a healer subjugated to watch such an atrocity as a slow death... How could that be tolerated, forgiven? Was there even such a apology out there that could redeem a scene as that? What, is my purpose in pursuing her....
Am I chasing some ideal, and ideal of an individual to be mated to from some life time ago that I cannot recapture? Perhaps I seek a truth, can one such as I truly care and have emotions that can stand up besides a living being’s emotions and be indiscernible...It is that she is unattainable, above my status and regard being a being drawn towards the light, and I crafted from lich fire merely wishes to snuff it out? I do not know my true reasoning at this point and time... I am aware that on the surface I do not wish to harm her, I would not intentionally do so, yet, the underlying unseen agenda is what concerns me.
I could not comfort her appropriately when she spoke of her past... Instead, of combating the tears she cried with words of affection and comfort, I remained silent while she spoke. My mind was only on the males that had harmed, and my own fantasy thoughts of systematically committing genocide, because if I killed them all I would also kill the ones that ever harmed her. I would not perform such acts, but I was reveling in the mental imagery of such a battle of bloodshed and gore, while she wept. To my credit, I did offer my arm, and a placement to draw close for comfort as I recall from my past, and have seen others do currently. However, being in plate armor I do doubt that leaning against me was... comforting.
Later, I began to question these confusions, these misunderstandings between us as well as her emotional state. Perhaps she has lingered too much in the shadow, that it is effecting her stability in emotions. I will need to question her more fully to gain answers, yet I am concerned it will only be disconcerting for her, for me to do so. I will find a way to speak to her on these topics which I have been thinking at a later date, I will attempt to find an appropriate venue in which to bring these subjects up. Perhaps my frustrations will subside if things are clarified on a rational level.
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rarhuk · 7 years
Text
Echoing distance...
It was in those moments of silence on the stone porch that I spoke with Raji’din. I assumed it was because of the great injustice I had done to the priestess that slumbered. I expected words of caution, or that which would deny me my decided course. There were words of such things, yet they had held something more on what storms were coming, and a request....
His presence alone would be intimidating to a living being, he was wrought forth from the same cold fires as I. Similar in design, and crafted for the same purpose. There is a unspoken kinship between us. Be it our ties to our mortal coils, or that of a darker nature of our being, I do not see him as threat, or an opposition. Rather, I regard him as one that has earned my respect throughout the ages, and the states of our condition. He is a fair leader, an efficient solider, tactical minded, and as well good council when given heed to his words. 
It was not wholly my spirit brother’s warning that had brought him to the priestess’s home, but what was happening in the world. The world I had turned my back on, as I saw nothing but folly and discord in that the path taken I would pursue, a deep suffering that it would cause to the living around me.
His words were on the Ebon Blade, inquiries, as to what they would have of me in these times ahead. His questions included why I would seek my loa’s temple and not join in the cause. They were thorough these questions he had asked. I would not lie to him as I do the living to spare them their feelings, his sensitivities are few, and reserved seemingly upon those of the past which I avoid for his sake. Memories do not serve him well, and to encounter one in vivid detail will leave him in a vulnerable state. The liability is neither good for him, or those he serves and protects. I will admit I did become agitated with the course of questions, my convictions were sound of mind as to why I would not join them, and yet it seemed by the line of questioning my uncle was attempting to direct me towards the otherwise. It seemed veiled these questions as there was an intention I could not read, or guess upon, until he made it known.
First I spoke in direct quote of the almost insult I had been given by our Highlord Darion Mograine, “... Make no mistake, we are not bound to this new Lich King. However, he may prove a valuable ally against the Legion. For now, our goals align with his. And in the meantime, it is in our best interests that the Scourge stay...contained.” 
If we are not bound why are we doing his bidding like the hounds set before their master? The blades we were given, hunger for souls like nothing else encountered. They become more powerful, and thirst more with each strike. Why would I contribute to what I have stood against? I refuse to go the course of true necromancy, and yet it is urged upon these things I deny to be done. I do not trust those that would strike at the heart of their freedom to become a pawn once more to a king with a different name. A voice that has been silent only to rise up once more when there is power to claim. I told my uncle my view point, where I stood and he seemed to take all my words and warning into consideration.
He had stood, put his smoking pipe away and spoke with that thought process as this; “ It is not better to serve and protect those that we are entrusted, with a clearer sense of knowledge then we hold now? “
His one question had me stop, it may be too difficult to see from a living perspective the small changes upon his visage, however, one such as I could see the subtle indications there was more on his mind. I clearly knew what he was going to ask before the words left his mouth. As what better place of knowledge could one have then within the ranks that served this cause?  We would gain the tools needed to be aware of the direction the Ebon Blade were going, to what ends, and to what effects it would have on the living populace. I considered for some time what he had asked of me, before I merely agreed. A stand point I could understand, and be persuaded in. As it is my duty to protect not only those closest to me, but those living souls that could wind up suffering the same fate. I found myself once more enlisted within their ranks, Raji’din would be in the same regiment as I was. It was obvious that it was influenced, yet at the same time, it was an earned entitlement to be stationed with him.
Our missions were tedious, menial, made for those of a lower prestigious rank, yet we did them without complaint and efficiency. It seemed trust must be earned once again. Admittedly it was of my doing due to previous volatility I had displayed with a higher ranking officer. I continued to make amends until my worth was recognized once more.
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  The more souls I reap, the more distant I become.
I did not notice. It was Shayna that made first mention that I must write more, I must keep in communication. Shayna has been stationed in Dalaran to aid with the infirm, and those with wounds that require specific skill sets to mend. I had met with her in Silvermoon away from those that may recognize either of us. I spoke only what I could, as what was in the works was of a secretive nature. It was then she spoke of considering my proposal. I had not noticed I had not put her emotional state in consideration at all, until she brought it up. I put full focus upon her, discarding my thoughts on tasks ahead, and the whispers of thirst from the blades I carried. I told her that perhaps, to put these things aside for her welfare, that until the war was over that it would be best to not pursue such with another. In my mind it was not fair to have her waiting for my return as there was no time set given as to how long I would be at the front lines that my leave was sporadic at best. I had thought she would easily agree without a harm to her emotional state. She instead told me no, that we would pursue as the modern world consider courtship with dating. I have heard this term, I’ve seen it practiced, I’ve seen others pursue this direction, I am aware of how it is done. Yet, I hold an uncertain mind when it comes to this, as it typically ends badly. I was raised in a time of arranged unions, where getting to know one another was part of the course within being mated, not before. Love was a rare thing to be seen in couples in the beginning, age differences, and other things were to be set aside for the prosperity of joined families. I may have seemed confused by her proposition as she was reassuring me that others have found the time and the way to go this course slowly to discover if the match was a benefit for both involved. That the warring and my absence would not cause a disruption in the pursuit. I had to consider her thoughts, and feelings carefully before agreeing to this. I would have to make the time to find leave, and write to her, she would write back to indicate if too much time had passed without a visit.
Time easily slips by for one such as I, and if a living individual does not make mention I may lose months unnoticed. I could agree to her stipulations of the pursuit, only if she would remained unharmed by my at times long absences.
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“ You believe that you are in control, that your will is your own... Yet you do as He commands. You exist by His whim alone. You imagine yourself to be free, but you will always be His instrument... “
This voice was not one I have encountered in some time, it is not one I expected to hear whispered to me. Yet, it is no surprise. Remnants of once was, are always lingering in the recesses of the mind. Before this the whispers had not a voice I knew, they were many, faceless, always wishing to devour more to continue the essence of what hilts my hands hold. It was a burden I had agreed to, yet as it grows in strength I begin to question my will power to withstand such. Raji’din has not seemed to hear the voices, I have only brought it up once. At first I believed it was only my unvoiced concern choosing the fallen king’s voice to taunt me with. I had thought my mind had chose well with it’s decision as that voice would unsettle me the most. I attempted to shut it out, with an almost instinctual reflex of a remorseless winter. It only gave the sway more power to reach me on this distant isle. Was it to question myself, was it to torment with the ideal of being free? Was this my choice? Were they all aware of my intentions? What influences beyond what was known and displayed involved?
I kept silent on it until I could no longer.... I believe there are more sinister designs then we first thought. I gave a warning to those that I could....
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I have been in composition of a gift to Shayna in my free time. I had first thought to give her a head of a corrupted harpy queen I had slaughtered in her name. When I spoke of this to Raji’din he had a suggestion for a female of her disposition it would not make a suitable gift that perhaps something more personal would be more to her tastes. I had debated shortly, it was to show my prowess in battle, that I was skilled male that would take out her and her loa’s enemies, that I could protect and provide for her as a mate would. It was suitable, and quite and honor to gain such a token of esteem when I was alive, why would it not be now? After much consideration, I’ve decided on that his suggestion was correct, that the token of harpy heads would not be received well.
As for more personal, it took me some time to consider what she would enjoy that I share the same in. I decided that since could not travel with me, I would take down notes of where I had been and what I had seen without what is considered gruesome by today’s standards. This was a quite difficult as my lack of range of color in vision, and what I may consider enjoyable she may not. I had a stroke of insight as I saw Raji’din stop and pick a flower for whom I could only assume was for my aunt. I am far from a botanist, I do not know the flora and fauna in these lands besides what is found in most locales. I decided to make a special journal on a rich vellum. I sketched what my vision allowed of the locations I visited, depicting everything from structures, to plant and animal life, I labeled what I could as far as genius and species, locations and regions, as well as the people I met in these lands. I placed things I found of value, explained where I picked them up. Each chapter was organized by the order of the realms I visited, as well as what I encountered in my dealings. It was not only to be informational, but that of a personal journey from my point of view. There are gifts in each chapter such as necklaces I acquired from the harpies instead of their heads, there were small mana infused gems, leaves, feathers, coins, these things the living of each region seemed to value. I did so in hopes to hold her interest as well as curiosity.
On the last page, I placed loosely to be removed at leisure an image of myself for her entertainment.
All of it bound in a thick leather hide that I believe was dyed red by the processor. I believe it is a gift of value and worth to a priestess of her status and stature.
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She seemed to receive the gift well, her facial expressions were smiles, her tone was soft and as I spoke of what I had first thought was an appropriate gift before this she had laugh. I enjoy the sound of her laughter even if it slips my recall as to what causes it. She made mention that my presence was colder then I typically hold it, however, I do not believe it was a complaint as she kept close to my company all evening. I find it fascinating, how her hair length freezes to my touch yet, as I withdraw it returns to it’s normal state as if it was unaffected. I spoke to her of the tauren Raji’din and I had met in Azsuna, and how we worked together quite well. I also spoke of the spring event we were invited to, and asked her to join me in what would be consider in these modern terms a date. She agreed, and I believe she enjoyed her time hearing tales. I even spoke of a past happening that many seemed to enjoy despite my state. The rituals that welcomed life were intriguing and I do not believe I have ever been invited or even welcomed to such a gathering since my resurrection. It was an enjoyable experience kept in polite company.
I believe that is the last time we have spoken, or spent time with one another. She seems to hold a well intended understanding to my furthering distance of late.
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rarhuk · 7 years
Text
As she sleeps....
In the quiet of the night, I left her side. I left her to slumber in peace without the reflective windows of the dead upon her. I left her to that world in which I cannot reach, where breath comes without question, without a conscious thought, but that of reflex unburdened by the toils of the waking world....
It is that feeling that arises on the battle field, when all is quiet. It is unsettling, that feeling in the aftermath, accompanied by a fog that rolls in due to the fading heat of the fallen against the cold of the air. We would speak of the reasons the fog at times would hang so thick in hushed whispers amongst ourselve. General consensus was, it was the souls of our fallen brothers in arms lingering to bid us luck in the days to come. What luck was there to be had, when we knew our eventual fate was to be as this? Death was not beautiful, it was not glorious, laying in the thick stench of soiled mess and our own defeats. Yet it was something we living welcomed in the days that would come, in that quiet of the wake... hope for better days... luck. Those moments where moans and groans had stopped and it was a heavy on the heart silence, only broken by carrion birds calling out their triumph over the feast that was laid out before them. That sense as each battle brought more casualties that our own individual impending doom was at hand... We knew death was coming for us, it was at our heels in our every step, to take our armor, our weapons, our helms, to strip us down to our last breaths, ripping us inside out, and leaving behind only a lake of gore and blood.
I knew he was here... That sense of doom, like a shade passing through one’s soul, he was upon Shayna’s door step. Like a tendril, a creeping coil of exotic scented smoke, that made it’s way into the priestess’s home, it was the solidarity conformation that he was present. Whatever mortal coil I held to my uncle in life, upon my death was transformed into something else. My once doom walked in his shadow, my end, my death, it created some form of an awareness, something keen and sharp that I can feel cut deeper the closer he gets. He could be silent, he could be at a great distance, yet, that sense surrounded him like a thick winter cloak. I know when he is present... I do not feel this... bond... between any other Death Knight. I do not know the cause of it. I could speculate that it was our connection in life. I could speculate that it is, that it was he that choked my last breath from me, that last exhale lingered upon his frame in a scent that could not be washed clean that only I can recognize. I could also place a value on that sense of what it feels like to look on that aftermath of battle with the bloodied dead, and the lingering souls that would reach out in the form of mist from was to become lost to them. I could ponder this sensation that was between us for hours, with no true answer found. I am aware of his presence, as much as he is aware of mine, it is that simple...
I do not wish to see him at the moment.... It is quiet here, as she sleeps.
He patiently waits out the hours and he will remain to do so, while I contemplate my earlier actions and Shayna’s reactions.
She asked for time.... That is something I am able to give the living, ample time. I do not know if she was asking for time to decide on my proposal, or time to sleep, time to question my motivations, or that of what concerns her with Sandria’s death. I do not know why she had asked for that time, but I am able to give her the time she needs. Her alluring warmth and scent still lingers upon me, I value that more then the answers to my own questioning thoughts. As her tears had quieted, and her breathing fell to an even keel, I sat for hours just listening and being surrounded by that almost unbearable and untouchable light that is she. Fragility and strength merely confined to the flesh of her physical resources, that came softly upon each taken breath as if she whispered gently to only me along the tattered edges my ear. She wishes for love, that all consuming love, that challenges her, that does not come easy, yet it comes willingly, something that one would fight to the very end for, that burns the soul to both ends of the night. For all that I am, I wish I was the one to bring her heart and soul this... I know I cannot give her that love, I am not one that is capable to give her all of her desires.
I did not expect her to accept my proposal...
Just as the shade awaits smoking in the dark, I will maintain my patience as well. Perhaps, it is what we share in common that binds us as thus, those untouched upon desires of what could be ours and, yet, we persist against our own ghosts to deny ourselves. We should have been buried in caskets of gold, mourned, we should have walked the courses of our fallen before us, and yet we hang like the mists clinging to our remains wanting for that one last breath without conscious thought. He holds value to my aunt, his once mate, old as she is now, he does not shun her existence, he keeps her close, watching over her. As if he too fought with all that he was now, for that once last taste of breath of his forgotten life, clinging to those remnants of once was, be it of memory, or that of sensation. He does not cast her aside, he is able to, but does not. We torture the living, we are the constant reminders of those memories that should fade yet refuse to. As he does to his once mate, I do Shayna in the now. What words would he say to me that would correct the wrongs we commit in what we choose to do to the living with our mere presence? I will find that out in a brief passage of time.
For now, I would rather be left of my thoughts of her, and what cannot be. I wish to cling to her with what remains of my mortal coils, to touch upon that visage of kindness which I cannot feel in the depths that I once held. To fixate upon each motion of her eyes under curtained closed eyelids, to listen to each ease of breath that comes without a concern, to her heart’s rhythm wishing it was my own. It is her life I envy as much, as I can love with, that vibrancy that fascinates. It is her personality of warmth and caring, that I wish to consume and make my own, although, knowing and fully aware I cannot. I was aware there would be lack of understanding before I walked through the door. I am not a fool to believe she would have welcomed my words with open arms and heart, without such conditions that the living place upon each other... the challenge they face. Yet, I could not set aside that desire in me to pursue something I had been denied in life, something wanted, yet never attained. I could no longer resist the temptation. I had asked myself long before reaching that step at her door, did the means of the path I now chose to take, justify the end. Was it not the joy of the acceptance of the proposal that I wished to feel? it was the sensation of the rejection that comes with knowing why....
I believe that is what I seek to feel, it is not the regrets themselves, but the sensation of torment and the burden of poorly made choices. If I could feel that etching hot pain within my soul I would become aware of something within that held merit and worth to another, both past and present, that would cause some notion of significance of my continuance that could burn with as much strength as there is in, and as love holds. Selfish designs as such to desire to feel once more, what I felt in life, that drive, that need for survival upon each breath. Yet I grew frustrated with her, as she spoke of another when that was not my purpose, or point of coming before her as I had. I wished to be seen, to be heard as I stood before her, with no distractions to way side. Those questions within I long sought to find the answers to were being met with an obstruction of the dead. I didn’t want to speak of death, I wished to feel of life, her life, her thoughts and feelings so I could feed upon them to fill an empty reflection. In hopes of that possibly that through her love for me, I could feel life again within my intentional breath. That what she does out of reflex, I must force forth, to think and guide with efforts to call upon only when required for appearance sake. There is peace upon her reflexes, those tears shed over her losses and pains of the past, it tastes of salt and sweetness, that bitterness and forgiveness over what life brings the living. I am only of what is left that sours on the palate. If she had easily accepted my offering without question, I would in turn wonder why she would so easily accept cold comforts over the warmth the living could provide. I knew this before my foot hit her door.... What living being full of emotions, full of life, would welcome the gate keeper of the dead into their home, their hearts, and bed?
Her reasoning at first seemed to regard me as if I was alive, the focus my age. The appearance of my frame and stature before her as being too young. I cannot change that, nor if I thought upon it, believe I would. My perpetual youth is a deception that benefits one such as I, in many circumstances. Save this one circumstance... What does she expect me to say, or what can I do to make it not so then what appears before her? I gave her the truth, I will not age in appearance, but I am beyond those years that I had lived. She will fade, as all other living beings do... I would see her through the years, I would see her as the blossom of life that she is in the now, only to cast seedlings out to the wind before the eventual decline and withering. Even as I stand now I would see her through it all, be with her each step onward beside her, to taste each minute passing of life as she does, even if I am at a distant detachment from it. The wound to her may be too great, I considered it before coming here, my presence an insulting reminder that I can journey at her side, but I cannot face the same obstacles as she feels in those moments. I remain the same in construct and design, it would be unfair to her to deny her the one that would take that course with her fully. Yet my proposal does deny her many things, if she accepts it...
That part of me enjoys that concept of prolonged suffering, that building of resentment that may take decades, those urges to see my unchanging reflection in her ever changing gaze as she ages. Yet, it remains that desire to feel it all, the differences of her skin, her hair, her scent, her touch, to see the light slowly fade without my hands being the cause, what is natural, and that I am forever detached from. To be the witness... If I am at her side, in those moments, it will bring me closer to understanding, it will give me the opportunity to be apart of this journey that is life in all it’s stages. If not from experiencing it myself, to see it through her eyes in those mere moments as they slip by... A great gift bestowed upon myself if she accepted, to partake in such a journey. I do not believe she understood the depths of my plea of her approval. I do not believe she understands the enormity of what I asked of her... If I had come to her living, breathing, at the age of my death and of her age of now, I could understand the quick decline. That is why I asked if it was my... condition that thwarted her.
As I sit here, I reflect upon all the words spoken between us, not in just this situation, but all those before that lead me to ask of her this blessing. I found significance upon each smile, each time she sat close, each passing touch, I found an expression of value... Where as she had not. I am confused in this area... I cannot recall what it was like when I was alive. I recall my mother holding my hand in many instances, I recall her holding me in her lap. I recall my brother’s head locks, and shoulder pats in passing, the punches and smiles. My father’s approval with a tussle of my hair, the grip to his hand in direction to show me the correct way to carve, to his drunken salute and hold to my neck when I returned home to visit after a long drawn out battle. It is not the memories that elude me, nor the sensation of those granted touches, it is what I felt in those years. I can feel the smiles, but not the warmth that brought them on. It is hollow, and fading further away from me until all that remains is sorrow, pain, and the rage that follows. I want more from this existence then that... I believe Shayna is the key, I can almost feel the warmth when she is near, I can almost grasp it. I believe if I did not speak it to her, to allow this silence to draw out in these small significances they all too would eventually begin to fade from me. I do not want that distance, I do not want to lose which is important to me, I desire meaning.
As she sleeps, I write of these things within her well protected sanctuary... that looming dark could enter any time he wished, but he abides by the same courtesy and rules as I do... We linger in their door ways, we watch them sleep, eat, breathe, all with wonder and longing. We do not dare to tread too far into their realm of life and free choice, because of the moral crime that is caused from doing so. Yet we take liberties from them when see the opportunity, we press upon the boundaries that make us different and almost the same. Just as the wild scytheclaw raptor tests the fences for weakness, we try and try again to break free into their realm of thought and feeling. We may fail, but it does not stop our pursuit to fulfill our insatiable desires.  I may fail in properly expressing these desires I hold for her, yet I will never lie to her. I cannot love her as she wants, I cannot give her what she deserves from this life time, I can only give her what I am and what I am capable of... It is up to her to open that caged gate that holds back the monster that tests the limits, it is up to her to feed it what it desires...
It is the grey morning hours, outside it has been silent, the unusual combination of herbal scent of smoke had ceased for some time before it rose recently again. I will see what it is my uncle will ask of me...
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rarhuk · 7 years
Text
The Clarification...
( Short story collaboration with @tribeoftrolls. The character’s Shayna and Raji’din belongs and are written by; @tribeoftrolls )
The divided parts of story can be found at the links...
Part one: The Return...
Part two: The Proposition...
Part three: The Diversion...
Part four: The Clarification...
The Clarification: As the two speak, things unravel eventually coming to a close...
“No…” She answered with a small shake to her breath. With him walking away her eyes closed for just a few moments, regaining herself. Listening to him speak his mind of his thoughts as he sought for clarity. Her gaze had opened before he turned to look to her direction.
A few tears had slipped out from the corner of her eyes which she would wipe her eyes with her hands, taking in a sniffled breath as she sighed out. Wiping her hands on her robe, smoothing her hands over the silk fabric and spoke out quickly to answer before she ends up incapable to. “Even if you were alive, at the current age that you are at you would be too young…..a female near your age would be more suitable then someone as I who is approaching their middle age. If in a sense you are close to my age and alive, you would have more of a understanding to take the time to fall in love before asking for such of a commitment.”
He shook his with a slow smirk. “ I would not be young in this age… Even now as I am, and how I behave this world believes me archaic. It is not an age difference that should weigh so heavily on your mind. I am not asking for your love, because as I have spoke before I cannot promise any depth on my own in return. “
“You being a Death Knight is not what turns me away from you. And as for Sandria, I do not hold any disdain toward her. I do not hold any disdain toward you. There is no jealousy. I ask about Sandria because I know how it feels to lose someone, I know how it feels to search for someone. She was searching and I do not know if it was just a passing dream, or an old guilt.” Lifting a hand to fiddle gently with the crescent moon necklace while she spoke.
He gave a quick nod. “ Good.. If you say that is the truth I will take your word for it. “ He paused briefly as she was caressing a certain necklace as if it was habitual in nature, but it was not until recently he had seen this mannerism in her, it was significant in nature. “ A lover, a mate, a child? “ He inquired as Shayna spoke of searching for someone, being motivated by guilt.
“You may of not held attachment in that regard, but my heart still goes out to her from what hurt she gone through from the loss she had endured besides losing you and the safety you gave her. I know this will remain unanswered and that’s what saddens me. I only asked to clarify some things so I do not feel so heavy with those words of…..Find him.” She spoke once more with returned strength in her voice, her tone calm as well as direct to answer his questions.
His brow furrowed with thought. “ Attachment? What do you know of me so far that you would say that to me? What do you know, understand, or comprehend what I hold an attachment to in the regards towards any individual? You have not asked these things, what… saddens me.. “ He intentionally sighed, almost a reflection of what his spiritual brother would do in a case of exasperation. “ You should not be feeling a burden with two words. It could mean anything, speculating will only drive your mind on a pointless pursuit that would be best put in the direction of other concerns. Such as what stands before you…“
She let out her own sigh lifting her hands to rub her face as her own emotions may be causing this whole misunderstanding. Once she removed her hands she spoke once more to try to clarify for him. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like you held no care toward hers, that her passing did not effect you. That you don’t feel sadness when I know you do, you showed it. I am sorry…” Her gaze held sincere apology.
“ When it comes to children,—” She briefly paused as if hesitant before she pressed on. “That is where my heart weeps the most. That is why those two words bother me. To answer your previous question, yes…..I lost not just a child. I…… lost…..many.” She began to cry as she lacked the will power to hold her tears back that began to trail down her full cheeks.
Ra’rhuk seemed confused as she spoke of losing many children. She was of the Zandalari, and there had been many instances from what he understood of where this could have happened where many children were lost. He had seen it with his own people, famine, plagues, sacrifices there could be many reasons as to why. He was careful on his tread with her now due to the tears, the tears seemed to lessen his frustrations with the seeming lack of communication and direction. He had no idea what he could say or do to lessen that burden. He had opened his mouth to speak only to close as she continued on this subject.
“I don’t mean to bring up such things……I been trying to avoid to say anything of this because this is not a topic about children, this is about just gaining a understanding about Sandria so I can let it go. As well as concerns toward you..”  She softly cried out as tears spilled from her eyes that she wiped away with the sleeve of her robe. She just went on from there to keep her words going to try to gain a rebound to handling her emotions.
He did not want to cause her to cry again. Ra’rhuk held his questions to himself so she was able to regain composure.
“I denied you because of your approach of proposal is way off in timing. You seek to claim me as a mate. How am I to be a mate toward you when their has been no previous commitments of love between us? Love is a huge factor in this Ra’rhuk. You may not have any riches or lands, but that does not matter to me. What matters is what lies within the heart.” She paused for a moment as she thought on what more to say.
Ra’rhuk eyed her in silence as she spoke upon love, as she in her way had revealed that it did matter to her what he held within him on the emotional level.
“How can you expect me to accept or even consider it when I know my feelings towards you is not the bonds of love? You deny us both that chance to find out by skipping everything else and going right for a promise that is made between two people who are in love. A promise that cannot be held together when a foundation is not built.  Love is a very complicated as well as powerful emotion Ra’rhuk, it’s an emotion that surpasses all. It matters not if you are alive or undead, we all do not comprehend the full works of love. Love just happens, love is found unexpectedly. So my question to you is, do you love me?” She was feeling a little nervous for the answer. On one hand if he said no, would it bring any relief? Would he come to a realization of why she denied him given her explanation of the importance of love. After all he said it himself previously when he proposed, that he cannot make promises of love. She wasn’t sure how she would react if he said yes, because as far as she knows or understands of Ra’rhuk is that he does not understand the emotion of love as well as to even endure such a strong emotion. And if his answer is unexpected,…..that is the risk she is taking with asking him the question.
He continued to stand there silently, now one hand stroked upon the furs that were draped upon his arm like a towel at hand if needed. Yet a small change in his stature seemed to slide over him, his gaze did not hold on to hers, rather it locked upon the furs. The quiet drew out for a long time, a really, long, uncomfortable amount of time, so long it may seem like he would never respond at all. The silence stretched out so long and thin one may expect to hear a snap when it finally broke, but it didn’t break with a snap, but a lowered tone of his typical flat voice. “ I cannot say it is love, or out of convenience, or selfish desires to consume what I can from your life before your eventual passing, as far as my motivation of my pursuit is concerned. I have never made promises out of love in life, as I was denied such a chance to vow these promises of devotion. I would have had it, but out of consideration of another’s desires from life I allowed the opportunity to be denied to me.  I know of love, Shayna, I can almost taste it upon the air of my memory recall, but it is distant, and as cold as I am now before you. All that lingers from the memories is that which is tainted with pain, and suffering, of things I cannot change. I would spare you that bitter taste, desiring only to give you the promises of what the sweet has to offer… I do not know of the sweetness, I’ve been detached from it for some time. If love gains it power through suffering by a togetherness that over comes , then I have it through those means. If it is through those brief moments of joy that love gains it’s threshold of power into reality, I cannot honestly say to you that I offer you such love, as I know little of it. “ He gently set the fur pelts down upon the back of the sitting cushions, before ushering with a palm upward facing hand.
That silence was almost like an awaiting impending doom. She could hear one of her clocks ticking away in the back round and the longer that silenced remained the louder those ticks and tocks were becoming! He could react in anger, he could react in sadness, there was numerous of ways this could of went down but when he finally spoke she felt like she can breath! While he had spoke she was listening but also quietly crying, the more he spoke the more the tears were slowing so she can truly focus on his words. Rather then her brief of old past sorrow. He had spoken before that clarified that he did not feel love toward her, that he cannot promise love and that was what had jammed the gears of her to even consider it.
“ Do sit, get comfortable. I will not harm you, I merely wish to clarify as much as I am able to. “ He moved around the outer rim slowly settling into one the large cushions that lined the flooring.
She really needed to sit so all it took was one motion of his hand and she was on the move. She sat down in a chair near the fire place, picking up a cloth to wipe her face while sniffling in a few breathes
“ As I spoke earlier of accepting your decline, I still do…Yet, I have not felt heard out. I desire to speak to you on this in depth, so that you can understand why I would do something as this proposal, not out of love as you know it. I have thought on this at great length. Perhaps, it is a reflection of youth ambitions that you perceived it to be. Do understand, I do not intend it to be seen as a gesture as that, only that I do not have any other way of showing you the importance, or depth of worth that I hold you in. It is not a simple yes, or, no answer, it is one of vast complexities as to why I would ask this of you. “ He rubbed to his temple in rolling of his thumb while he thought of how to put this clearly and without room for to question his true intentions.
“ I thought long upon what would be an appropriate gesture for a female of your status amongst any tribe. Stealing a kiss would have been juvenile I do not wish you to think me as this. I may not appear to be any older then my time of death, but I do have more experience then those short years, which do accumulate to make up my construct as you see me now. To remain in your shadow lurking with my thoughts as I have been for some time, was doing you no honor. Speaking plainly with you at times I find difficult as you deflect from conversations, appear to withdraw, or seem wounded from some unknown source. A small gesture in a trinket, or token could not explain the turmoil I feel in your absence, nor the thoughts of you that I carry with me. I decided on something large, something of effort, and to display what lengths I would go to appeal to your needs, even though there are many I cannot find a connection towards within my realm of understanding. It was something to display your worth to me as well.  “ He turned his head with a tilt of his chin causing his neck segments to pop and crack, his habitual motion to ease a pressure.
She grimaced a little from those neck popping sounds, she really wanted to help in looking into the old injury to see if she can at least repair it but that would be something to bring up another time.
“ Your reservation is that you feel no attachment, no love towards me… Yet, your gestures and actions over these years I have known you, speak of a love I could not touch in life, nor can I feel as I am. No other female has ever gone to the great lengths to aid me, has reached past these prejudices they hold for my kind, none have smiled at me the way you have, nor regarded me equal as you have done, since I have been risen. What female goes out of their way to allow one such as I, sight to see colors, or to search out the memories for a purpose in this world freely? You want my love, and my thoughts to be of you, you have it in the full extent that I capable of. I will not lie to you, to say it is the same of a living male, or one with full range of emotional connect, but what is there, is yours to have. You do not wish to return it because you are unable, because of what your own perceptions believe and see me to be, you are entitled to it. I accept your wishes, regardless if they leave me with a sense of content, or not, because they are your decisions. I respect them, and you…” He bowed his head once and had offered her a slow smile.  
His gaze scanned the room before returning to Shayna once more with a quiet consideration before he spoke up again. “ It was a reckless choice to approach you as I have done…  I have been denied in the past, and it was a gamble that could have gone either way. I decided to take the opportunity, to understand my standing in your eyes, and mind set. Although, I was aware from the onset of what your answer would be, that it would not be what I wished to hear. It was a risk I was willing to take by chance I was proven wrong. I do not regret it, as I seized a moment in your life time and made it apart of my presence. I could have just as easily let it slip by without this clarification. Yet, it is a memory I will carry with me, this time with you that could have been lost to the ages. That was all that I could have asked for, and in that you have my gratitude, for what it is worth. “
She had listened to him fully without any means of wanting to disrupt, after all she was getting a handle of past hurts that has been trying to rear it’s ugly head. She was a little surprise that he thought on stealing a kiss from her but he knew better. He did not fall for the temptation which may be a good thing because she had no idea how she would react. The notion was there but he did not try to take from her of stealing a kiss. The more he explained, to try to express of what he is capable of. To have all the cards laid out of his reason to ask her, his considerations and what amount of love that he can feel if any at all. That it was right there to be felt but she was uncertain that she is the one to unravel those obstacles that he is struggling with. To knock down those walls, open the flood gates of deeper emotions. She has alot of set skills but her abilities even have limits as well as knowledge, what if they gone through all this and it was all for nothing? That nothing was sparked, nothing was moved, nothing was understood just constant misunderstandings and frustrations toward one another. She had been frustrated with him and she was sure he was frustrated with her right now. Frustrations to express what one another is not just feeling but the reasons behind all that had transpired this night. Can they really build a relationship with all these misunderstandings and frustrations? The water works were on the rise once more, words that were spoken that caused a rise with her emotions. Her eyes glossy from the tears and tinged with red at the whites from her falling tears, bottom of her eye lids puffy.
“Ra’rhuk..” She breathed out with a crack to her voice.
“ Yes? “ He returned in question as he was not certain if her tone was a request from the change of pitch, or just his name voiced with the labor of previous tears.
Shayna breathing became uneven in hitches from her sobbing, with her eyes brimmed with tears. Reaching out toward him to wrap her arms around his neck and just hug him. Her warm cheek touched to the his shoulder feeling the coolness of touch.
The motion of her reaching out, at first caused him to pause as he was uncertain of the gestures intent, or for him to slowly ease into what she was requesting without words. Ra’rhuk was soon gently guiding her into the embrace as if welcoming her. His arms loosely held around her, clasped at the hands, while resting at the small of her back.
Shayna was to over emotional to speak, her sobbing would release in waves. Still holding to him in a hug as she squeezed before loosening her hold just enough to still hold on.
As Ra’rhuk was squeezed in the hug, he returned the gesture with the same amount of pressure that she had applied, then as she loosened her hold to his neck he did the same in mirror reaction at her lower back. He could not read what caused the uprising of her emotions, but if she so wished for the embrace to ease her mind, he would not deny her it.
Shayna cared for him, but how fair is it for one another where one feels such an attachment to go such great lengths of a risk. The other such as herself, did not hold Ra’rhuk in regards to even consider to have a deeper relation. Her heart also breaking for him due to his own past struggles of what he has gone through but also what he has been enduring. As well as her own personal struggles. She fought long enough against her own emotions, her strength had crumbled away and all she could do in the moment was cry.
After a long while of sobbing did she speak in a soft winded voice. “Can you……allow me…some..time?”
She felt too much of a mess to talk further on this subject, too much for her to bare right now. Alot needed to be absorbed, reflected on, to not feel so unorganized from within. She had not cried this much in a long while, the stress of emotions weighing upon her heart. She was not sure of anything and did not want to make any promises she couldn’t keep. An emotional roller coaster that was taking it’s toll. Her tears had brought fatigue to linger in her eyes.
“ But of course… as much as you need. “ He stated in a lowered tone remaining in place as long as she wished him to be for that support, as well as for the comfort she was looking for in him.
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rarhuk · 7 years
Text
The Diversion....
( Short story collaboration with @tribeoftrolls. The character’s Shayna and Raji’din belongs and are written by; @tribeoftrolls ) 
The Diversion: After Shayna declines Ra’rhuk’s proposal,the true topic divides.
“I speak honestly, that I am not ready of such of a commitment.” She was being honest as well as kept her explanation short, she could go on with telling him more but these were things he was going to have to discover and gain a understanding on his own. She was truthful, she really was not ready for this as commitments were not previously made before getting to this point. She did not feel a bonding love with Ra’rhuk, she was sure he didn’t feel love toward her either. Love was a complicated emotion, an emotion that is gained in time. Even if his time of solitude brought him to this choice to present the idea to show his appreciation by taking care of her for as long as she lived. But what is the point if their is no love in it? She did not want to put Ra’rhuk in a position he was not ready for or may regret later as he seem to lack the emotional tools to handle with the living. After all while caring to Sandria it seemed he only wanted the best for her, with all his nit picking over the smallest of things. Shayna thought their was more to the story with how long it took for him to bury her, it took hours for him to be done with his time of the quiet funeral. But now the question arose, if she nor Ra’rhuk were mates in the past then who was she searching for?
He bowed his head once more, as he looked to her. “ I accept you decision. “ He said simply without animosity, or tone that said with her denial of his proposal he was hurt.
She was struggling and doing her best to keep it concealed. She did not have the skill as he does to mask his emotions. “I do not wish for you to leave, we need to talk…..” She finally added once she found her strength to speak once more.
“ As you wish it.“ He began to unload the contents of the chest, taking the many jars and setting them within the kitchen. A gift was a gift and he intended for her to keep what he had offered, no matter the outcome of her decision.
“What would you like to speak on? “ He kept himself busy, because no matter what language, no matter the race of the female he had learned ‘ we need to talk’ equaled an ear full of anger, and hurt on their part. If he looked to be working, busy, he may avoid her full wrath as he was doing something for her.
She remained where she stood while he was retrieving what was inside the chest, she was slightly curious to what was inside and each jar he took out to place into her kitchen she would find out later on. She would not stop him, he knew her kitchen from visiting previously. And she figured he needed to move around. As much as he took her decline rather peacefully, it left to question if he felt the emotional ties of feeling hurt from rejection? Not that she would want to cause harm toward him, but this was something he, nor she could evade from. This hurt will pass and they will move on from it. And him putting the items he had in the chest away, may be a way to distract himself for the time being. She remained where she stood by the fire as she began to speak.
Ra’rhuk would spare Shayna his emotional state, as he would himself for the time being. He was uncertain of the emotional state he was in, and moving helped him avoid as much as it aided him in deciphering what it was that he was feeling. He was on the move placing the consumables in the larder, coming back time and time again slowly coming to a stop to listen as she spoke her mind.
“It deals with Sandria…..you have explained to me who she was to you. A servant.” To utter those words, a servant. The word left a bitter taste in her mouth. By the stories that are spoken highly of Ra’rhuk, the word he used said other wise that he was a kind young male in his prime that had so much potential. And even now what tales of long ago have been spoken, Ra’rhuk still shows the same behavior. She was sure he took care very took care of her. It was just the word that she was not to keen on.
His head canted to one side as Shayna’s expression and demeanor changed in what appeared to be judgement and what he could only fathom was disdain. He was quiet his brow furrowing at the center bridge of his nose while his brow on the rose in a high arching quirk of a lift. A mannerism that gave indication of his family ties. “ The tone you use is not one I would use in life to say the word.. servant… She was hired, paid a large sum, she was not a slave….” As he began to clarify he had set a jar containing large eyes on the counter top.
He approached Shayna with a slight rise of a grin around the outer edging of his good tusk as he believe he understood why she held such a sharpness to her words. “ This status she held with me bothers you…. “ He said with a small inflection to his voice that seemed to enjoy that distaste she had in her mouth. “ I assure you, time spent in my home was the lesser of the evils that she would have faced in the world. “ He had never thought, nor assumed Shayna would have judged him negatively so, it displayed to him how much he did not understand the hearts of the living. He could not believe how easily he was discarded as an honorable male in Shayna’s eyes, not only from his past upbringing, as he was now.
She shook her head gently as he was approaching, noticing the slight grin that was rather peculiar. She figured maybe he was seeking some humor from what he most likely misunderstood so she clarified. “No….it’s not that. I’m just not comfortable with the word servant. By your previous actions with tending to her while alive….I know you been good to her. I do believe that she held some importance to you even if she worked for you. I believe it was not easy for you to bury her, it was not easy for me to watch her die, but we did what we could to keep her comfortable in her last days..”
Taking in a breath to resume her words of what she had been pondering on for months. “I thought she was your mate because of what she said in her sleep……..I kept quiet about it as our focus was to get her well. I didn’t want to cause a disturbance…. her life was more important then seeking the answer. " She quieted a moment to let him digest her words before she continued.
He had listened to her continuation about how she had assumed the female was his mate. “ I did not live long enough to become a true mate to anyone… what words did she speak? “ He had inquired when she had granted him enough pause to do so, only to have his answer without a broken breath as to what she believed and what was not easy for her, yet she pursued it. He merely gave Shayna a nod, for her to continue once more, as he was sated with her answer.
“The night that you brought her to me…..while you were away and I was tending to her. She spoke these two words. Find him..... I been pondering this for many nights. I had come to some conclusions and one of them which lead me to believe that maybe you two may of been mates, that she may of been looking for you. But if not you, then who? Her father? A brother?……A..–” Another difficult moment for her to say but she pressed on to speak her mind of what had been lingering for months. “A child?” Maybe she lost a child to the bitter cold and in her dying moments, was searching for this child. “I am aware what she spoke could be numerous of things but those two words have been haunting me.”
“ I would not know. She did not live long enough in these recent times, for me to inquire upon these things you question now, or many others I had desired to ask…. I do not believe it would have been family. She came to me in the time of the plagues, she had escaped some sort of arrangement that she did not care for… It could have been working in the quarry, it could have been an arranged marriage that would have left her abused, there are many possibilities. She came to my house asking for employment as well as sanctuary, I gave her both, and more. “ He had clarified further.
He gave a small shake of his head as Shayna spoke of a child. “ There was no child under my employment, I did not allow the females that lived in my home to have children. I only afforded them, not their offspring. You must understand Shayna, I’m certain your people practiced something similar at one time during stress, or famine to limit the mouths to feed. “ He shook his head once more lifting his finger, “ That is not to say that after my death she may have found a mate, may have had a child… yet speculating does nothing as the concerns you now hold are beyond her own. She is dead, she does not hold a concern as to how you are haunted, it is best to leave it buried. “
It was then he abruptly stopped his forward tread, and he took the liberty of rolling his thumb over those vein lines on her wrist as he fasten a quick, yet easy hold to her arm at the conjuncture of wrist and hand. His other hand came forward to grip at her hip, before he slowly let go, it was brief a hold but one that drew full attention in his direction. “ Your demeanor begs to question, why? Why are you asking of a female of my past with such a tone of disdain and concern? Is it born out of jealously that she had a life with me that you’ve denied yourself? Or is because she was a female you’d considered beneath your high rank, and thought of her sharing the furs with one of my rank causes a grating disgust? “ He brought Shayna’s hand to his mouth placing a chaste kiss upon her knuckles looking into her gaze before he took a step back quickly with almost a wicked grin. There was something almost pained there upon his expression, it was a swift flicker, that subsided as quickly as it was glimpsed.
“ Or have your eyes, and words lied to me these years we have known each other? That it is my mere proximity in this state as I am, that causes you to become ill of features, and of countenance? I do not understand your reasoning I come to you with a proposal which you’ve dismissed quickly with your decline only to speak of buried dead, as if there was some greater importance. It is wounding, even if you are not aware. So,I beg of you to clarify, lest, I assume incorrectly once more. “ Ra’rhuk eyed her now almost a predatory narrowing of gaze, as he was studying her reaction, if she flinched when he drew in close, grew angry, fearful or tense. He listened to her physical status, scented the air with an intentional intake of breath through flaring nostrils. He was aiming for reactions, where her mouth and eyes may shield things from him Shana’s physical demeanor would reveal to him the truth behind her questioning.
She shook her head once more as he stood before her. She did flinch slightly from the fast movement, but it was not out of fear, nor did she pull away from his quick grab to her wrist. If anything she just blinked a few times along with the small flinch due to how cold his hands are to her warm skin. As well as the surprise of his grab, she held trust toward him and he may startle her sometimes but their was no reason for her to feel fearful. When she felt the cool of his lips kiss her knuckles. She pressed her lips together as she felt the sting to her eyes return of rising tears. Incapable to speak words as if she took one wrong breath and her resolve would fall away. Her heart rate elevated due to her emotions as well as moments of a shaken breath.
“ Do I really hold so little in regard to you, that you did not even consider my offer even for the briefest moments before you answered? “ He grunted with a shake of his head, he turned from her on his heel, before going back to unloading the chest, there was still items of skins and furs that needed to be removed.
“ I do not believe it is a matter of you committing to one course or another. I believe there is another reason, as you’ve been stationed within Raj’din’s ranks firmly for some time here in this home without issue.  I believe there is another reason entirely as to why you denied my proposal that has little to do with the commitment it takes, and all to do with whom had asked for the commitment. “ He stated as he draped the furs over his forearm with the opposing hand.
“ If you would so do me the honor, of answering me one last thing… If I was alive, would you have accepted? “ He placed the final fur over his arm, staring at her in that pillar like stillness that he could hold.
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rarhuk · 7 years
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The Proposition...
( Short story collaboration with @tribeoftrolls. The character’s Shayna and Raji’din belongs and are written by; @tribeoftrolls )
The Proposition: After a three month absence, Ra’rhuk returns to Shayna’s home with a certain proposition in mind. Shayna recovers from Ra’rhuk’s entrance, while Ra’rhuk attempts to discuss what has been weighing on him.
After his spoken words of asking an audience with her, shayna just stood there staring. Trying to figure out what just entered through her door and what this is about. She didn’t even realized she lost her cup of tea as that seems to be the running gag when it came to Ra’rhuk’s entrances. Her expression baffled but also figuring out that what he brought maybe was an apology? Maybe he felt bad for what he put her through? He seriously did not have to go through this extent, a simple I’m sorry would of sufficed! Her voice finally found her as she placed her hand to her forehead.
Ra’rhuk upon speaking his words of requirement of an audience, became aware of the priestess’s physical presence, her heart rate elevated, her breathing holding a stressed pattern as her breath did not come as an at ease measured inhale and exhale.
“Ra’rhuk….what is going on?” Is the only words spoke as she needed to sit down, a slight dizzy spell she was feeling. Most likely from standing onto her feet to fast and her heart rate that elevated from being startled or was it the over whelming wall of herb and spices lingered on Ra'rhuk? Maybe all of the above. Slowly she was lowering down to sit back in her chair. She had to remind herself of what Raji’din said. Observe. That’s something she can do while she takes the time to absorb what is going on and why the eccentric entrance?
“Ra’rhuk……can you do me this one favor and stop kicking my door open? ” She had to at least get that off of her chest, before he ends up literally kicking her door into her main room. She once had her roof broken in, even though that has been fixed. She just doesn’t need anymore of her things busted in.
His glowing eyes narrowed as he focused in on her features as well as her state of being as she stood there staring at him, the question Shayna had asked caused him to blink twice before answering. “ My apologies…My hands were full at the time.” It was as if in those two blinks he had reconsidered everything he had thought to proceed with to take a different approach. 
“You have dropped your cup… I will attend to it.“ He replied, believing that was what the inquiry of what was going on indicated. He was moving the two steps around to aid her to sit, as her motions seemed delayed and slow for her typically.
Ra’rhuk took the large cloak of a shoveltusk’s pelt off of his own shoulders to lower it upon her own, in case she had been chilled, or disturbed with his entrance. “Sit, relax a moment.“ As if his earlier statement of requiring an audience had little precedence over the broken cup, and Shayna’s condition he was the move to retrieve the broom.
“You do need to be more careful with your objects.“ He stated blandly as he was sweeping up the broken fragments of the tea cup, keeping his gaze upon her frame while doing so.
“You’ve could have cut yourself.“ There was no tone of accusation, or a tone that held concern, his voice had been his typical monotoned echo, it was up to Shayna to decide his intentions with the spoke statement.
Shayna was trying to keep her frustrations at bay as she quieted for the moment to regain her breath. Watching him sweep up the small mess before she spoke once more. She simply would answer him. “Thank you for cleaning up.”
This is where Ra’rhuk struggled when communicating, as one individual would consider him to be thoughtful and considerate of their well being, another person would take him as completely inconsiderate and believing the cup held more an importance then their own personal well being, or even to the length of that he was blaming them for breaking the object.  Simple words could become misconstrued into many directions that were not his intentions in the slightest. It was all dependent on the personal perspective of the individual he was speaking towards, and how much they projected their own emotions upon him, none of which would be what he intended.  The living were emotional, and volatile beings that at times were difficult for him to understand, and at other times he believed he was able to comprehend why they misunderstood so much.
After he had swept up the portions of broken porcelain into a dust pan, and had dumped the contents into a waste receptacle. He approached her once more to speak further, with the cloak on her shoulders he only had on the ceremonial harness, with beads and claws as a garnish. He took her hand in his as if that contact would give him more of an understanding of her state of being.
“My apologies for startling you.” he seemed to believe that was the best course to take before unleashing his true intentions of his visit.
“You have been very tolerant of my… difficulties, of late. What is going on, it is my intent clarify my actions and intentions.“ He took an unnecessary breath before releasing it slowly.
“Ra’rhuk…where have you been?” She would ask.
“I have been contemplating my approach on related subject concerning… I would like to clarify, if you would so allow it.“ He had paused to awaiting her decision with an offered nod he had began.
“I do not know the ways of your people, and mine are archaic in these modern times. In the past, I would have approached my uncle to ask for you as he is the chief, I would have asked your father, or if need be the closest living male relative for the blessing. I would have approached with riches, raptors, a dowry befit for a taking on a female of your status and of your stature, yet these are not times for such approaches. I come to you for your blessings, for your acceptance of my interest to claim you, as one would do so in regards to becoming a mate.“ He allowed his words to digest. Slowly casting his gaze in the direction of the trunk he had placed upon the floor, before he looked back towards her.
“That is why I come here as this, presenting gifts of gratitude.“ He dropped before her on his knee, his chin tilted upright so he could continue to hold her gaze with his own.
Shayna’s gaze glanced to the chest but quickly returned to look to him as he knelt before her to speak further. This is why he was away for three months? This was beyond anything she would of expected from him. There was too much unanswered and he had decided to make amends is to claim her as a mate?
She remained quiet as she heard him out, she hoped that he would explain everything as he had mentioned to clarify his actions from her previous question. As he began to explain, the more he spoke the more she was realizing what all of this was for. The elaborate decorated chest and whatever was inside that chest must be alot of gifts to win her favor. His appearance also was a tell tale sign that he was presenting himself as a possible male for her. She really hoped he was not going in that direction, that maybe she was over thinking it! But the word mate had swiftly entered her ears. Her gaze soften but also held shock and thankful for the silence to allow her to digest, because she really needed a moment here!
“I cannot make promises of love or in compassion. I cannot proclaim an unwavering devotion, nor that utter selflessness. I have no lands, no raptors, no home, nor my life to offer you. I come to you as I am, with only my word that I will do my best within the means I am capable of, to fulfill your needs while you are alive, and with these meager tokens of what I will be able to provide if you choose to accept it.” He fell quiet after he had spoken his intention with his arrival in the manner in which he had. Ra’rhuk had been honest, there was no mask worn, what he could feel his facial features reflected purely.
“Ra’rhuk..” She was trying to figure out what to say, how to let him down easy without tipping the scales here? Here he was asking this of her out of the blue, there was no investment of emotions between them. Not built of a relationship that surpassed friendship, there was no bond that two lovers shared when finding common ground between one another. She looked to the chest and back up to him. Her own emotions were rolling within, her emotions threatening for tears to fall. Instead of succumbing to her emotions she spoke up.
Ra’rhuk’s gaze continued to search her visage, as if he stared long enough her features would convey what he translate to himself in a reaction. His tattered ear had lifted as she said his name as if in indication that he was listening. He did not speak, nor did he interrupt the silence that stretched between them. He listened intently, not only to her heart, or breath, but her words as well. He could feel the nervous tension, almost taste it upon the air, perhaps he should have taken it as a sign not of something welcomed, of something that caused fear.
“You have this interest to claim me, have you ever taken a moment to think of why? Was it something I had said or done to mislead you? I know you and I had gone out to attend to events that were for celebration. I am aware that our friends have this misleading idea that you and I are together and if we are not that we should be, I wouldn’t be surprise if they thought we were mating. Not that it’s any of their business, but has all that you have so far experienced….has it all lead to you deciding to ask me of this?” Many times she and Ra’rhuk had gone to events with their friends. She noticed the looks she had received from their allies, those quick glances that gave indication of possible blossoming romance that had not happened between the two at all. Those hidden side remarks of the comments spoken of what they believe is going on between her and Ra’rhuk. The possibility of all those fun and witty comments between she and Ra’rhuk was taken to literal. She was really trying to understand why Ra’rhuk would ask this. To just see if he truly thought this through or not at all. If something was misunderstood or Ra’rhuk had finally snapped from the death of Sandria and to fill that hole is to ask her blessing to be claimed.
His head tilted slightly as she asked him questions of being misled, and statements from others that could have possibly confused him in her intentions. “ I have… “ He stated simply as she asked him if he had taken a moment to think of why he would ask her this. “ For three months, as you have stated I have been gone. To reflect upon my reasoning—”
Ra’rhuk had paused as she asked him another question, and then another, allowing her the time to get out what was on her mind before he would address the other questions, in the process of her question asking his hand slipped away, and he had slowly stood before the priestess. “ No, you’ve done nothing to mislead me, others have not misled me to believe one way or another. If there was any misunderstanding, or misdirection, it was in affect, mine alone. No, it is not because of any influence from an outside source that has provoked me to ask this of you. I come to you, asking this under my own volition. If you decide to decline my offer, I will accept it. “
“Are you asking me this to fill a emptiness from Sandria’s passing? Who I have no idea who she is to you still…I can only guess that Sandria may of been a mate of yours?” She awaited to hear his answer as well as how he would react. She was glad she had spoken up as it had changed her emotional course to another direction and thinking much more clearly.
At Shayna’s mention of the female Sandria, his ears that had rose in attentiveness to listen had lowered slightly. While Shayna was glad she brought up the topic of Sandria as a deflection from his true purpose of his visit, Ra’rhuk’s subtle changes in demeanor gave the indication he was not as pleased as Shayna was, about the change of subject matter at hand. “ I would not dishonor your importance in the result of a death of another.  She was not a mate, she held little rank, or status as that… She was a female of convenience and comfort in my life time. A servant that I provided for, in the exchange of her services rendered. When I died, the world she belonged to went with it, I was merely daunted by her existence while she still breathed. There was no emptiness, nor is there a replacement for the loss of one above another.  “
He stepped back with his hand raising before him. He kept at only short distance away from her to give her the space they both seemed to need at the moment. “ I believe, I am growing offended by your line of questioning. To suggest that I would go the length’s that I have in display to impress you, is because of my attempt to find a replacement, or because what other’s may have suggested, is on the line of insulting. It insults my worth, as well as your own… “
“If you do not wish for me to pursue, you are permitted to decline, without questioning my motive and integrity. I will depart your company with no opposition, if you do not wish for my presence. I would spare you from being forced into a position you do not care to be in. If my word is not enough, I will accept that it is not enough for you.“ He respectfully bowed his head with the lowering of his chin.
Shayna took in another breath, her gaze looking to the fire while she took the time to just listen to him. Soon to stand up once he had given each other some space, she walked her way toward the fire space to further that distance between them before she turned to look to him. She needed a moment to maintain her collected expression and the small walk provided that. “I’m not asking these questions to insult you Ra’rhuk…….I do not know anything of what is going on with you besides what you so far explained. I deserve at least that much, to understand why you ask this of me…”
Ra’rhuk watched her breathing and that was enough indication to put that space between them. “ I thought it would be clear as to why I would ask this…”
She paused a moment before she resumed. “I apologize for digging in too deep. But what else do you expect of me to not wonder while you were away? I do not know if she was your sister, a cousin, a friend, a familiar face you knew of from the market, I don’t know the story…..You just left Ra’rhuk.” She lifted her hands up to soon drop them as her voice wavered, she was on the verge of tears. “No goodbye….no I need some time away. No letter..” Her voice wavered once more but all it took was one deep inhale of a shaken breath to sustain herself.
“ It is not for digging too deep that causes the sense of insult to arise. “ He was looking to Shayna’s expression by the changing contrasts that fire light caused to flicker upon her countenance. Upon seeing a struggle there that he could not comprehend, the way her voice carried an inflection she seemed… distraught. That was what he had settled upon as to place her state of emotion, she was distraught over his departure. Her array of emotions were valid he could not debate, nor thwart it.
She lifted her hand to remove the feeling of moisture at the corner of her eye. “I’m sorry…..I was worried for you.”
“ I was inconsiderate. “ He owned his wrongs. “ There is no need for you to apologize, as you have done no wrong. “ Ra’rhuk grew still and quiet allowing her that time to regain composure.
She lowered her hand to her side as she was evening out her breathing. She was being careful to not overwhelm Ra’rhuk with emotions. She was keeping in mind of the words spoken to her when she was at the temple with Raji’din and San’gee. Between the death of Sandria and Ra’rhuk’s disappearance, she felt that she did not uphold her promise of helping him at all as he had asked her. She can at least live with that Sandria’s passing was that of peace, even though she mourned Sandria’s death as if she was her own sister. But Ra’rhuk was still in turmoil and she was not sure if she had the tools to truly help him.
She closed her eyes as she spoke once more, her voice soft. “So please….be patient with me.”
His head slowly tilted to one side, while he practiced patience with her, as she had requested of him.
Shayna opened her eyes to look to him, emotions were stirring within her gaze. “I was not expecting what you presented to me at all…it’s alot to take in.”
“ Do take your time. “ He was curious as to why she was struggling as much as she was, it was not a behavior he was accustom to in her presence. She was direct, always with him even if it was on topics he necessarily did not want to address. This did not have a sense that he grasp on, it was something heavy, and almost shrouded from him.
Taking in another needed breath of her own she tried to remain as formal as possible as she answered. “The answer what you seek from me…..I respectfully decline.”
It hurt to say no, it really did. No matter how she tried to pretty up the words to make it sound not so bad. Not that she is in love with Ra’rhuk. But for him to go through such lengths for her approval, it was just something she hoped that one day a male would present seeking her acceptance rather then taking what they need from her. But to love, to truly love has been a subject that evaded her each and every time she sought to grasp for it. She has felt love on so many different occasions but they were all but fleeting moments. Love had become a subject to also be fearful of rather then to willingly embrace it. As much as she quietly yearned for love, she also was afraid of it.
“May I inquire as to why, you are declining? “ He asked quietly, as it seemed a moment to hold hushed tones.
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rarhuk · 7 years
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The Return...
( Short story collaboration with @tribeoftrolls. The character’s Shayna and Raji’din belongs and are written by; @tribeoftrolls )
Ra’rhuk had not looked back when he had left the priestess Shayna to do her ritual to sanctify the ground in which Ra’rhuk had buried Sandria in. He had not bid her farewell, had not spoke anything further but a bowing of his head. He had a personal agenda to fulfill, which caused him to be absent for a three month period in almost complete isolation. In that time the spirit of his brother Zor’din began to believe Ra’rhuk was having a mental break down.
Zor’din had observed his brother hacking down a large tree as if he had always been a lumberman. Oh, in their life time they had made many unnecessary spikes, they had crafted spears, and had made fine Drakkari bows, they were not above wood working when there was a necessity to it. This however, was on the way towards extreme, and no matter what he had to say it did not thwart Ra’rhuk from this pursuit, nor did his brother offer any explanation as to why this massive tree must fall. Zor’din recognized the tree from their life, it was a good hiding place, one that his brother had spent time in often in their young childhood with a girl Ra’rhuk had held a fancy towards. If it was so significant, he could not see the reasoning as to why Ra’rhuk must see it felled.
It was a fine tree, having a strong root system, it had grown much since those long ago days, pinkish hued leaves branched outwardly to taste upon the pale rays of light their distant sun cast down. The taint of the land did not seem to affect it negatively, it’s bark was a rich brown, thick, without disease, or insect infestation. If his brother wanted to destroy a tree in it’s prime he couldn’t have picked a better one. It was the why of it all, that left him perturbed it made absolutely no sense. No matter how he had goaded, or chided, Ra’rhuk had kept his secrets from him.The tree was downed, all that remained was a stump, a painful reminder of what once stood proudly. Zor’din had even cringed as it toppled down, he believed Ra’rhuk would later regret this, and whatever it was that was bugging his brother wasn’t clear.
He watched as his brother processed the tree in a methodical motion, from dismantling to segmenting portions that Ra’rhuk had further plans for, and Zor’din did not have the blue prints of his brother’s mind to go off of what he was doing. He had asked, had poked, and had prodded only to be answered with silence or a raise of his brother’s hand to silence himself. Zor’din had haunted Ra’rhuk where ever he had roamed. His brother was eventually hauling a large scraped clean, and sanded down of bark chunk of the trunk of the tree to the provision outpost that Ra’rhuk did visit from time to time. His brother preferred a certain vendor, that once had connections with the city of Dalaran, and other major connections in all of Northrend. If it could be done Kim’da could have it done. The old troll seemed honest in her interactions of what could be done with a fair price. It was through the conversation and bartering he discovered what his brother was up to… Ra’rhuk wanted a box, not only a box, but an elaborately done box which would take many weeks to create. Which cleared up at least one thing, but it left more to question. What for, would he want such a box made?
Afterward, his brother continued to ignore him and his behavior became even more strange, and this was coming from a spirit. As the time drew nearer toward when this ordered box was completed, Ra’rhuk began to hunt.. no, not the shambling dead that still roamed the area, nor the crazed lost souls that wandered, he actually was hunting, wild game. Ra’rhuk had set up snares, he had prowled the region, and even further out of the city into the hills and tundra, for the larger beasts. Zor’din was mystified, as his brother did not need to consume this much blood, and he was aware that this sort of hunting was not in Ra’rhuk’s particular tastes. It was more meat then any one living individual could want at one time, it was not an acceptable amount for an offering to a loa either. Zor’din could not understand these happenings, and Ra’rhuk was not forth coming either.
Ra’rhuk had butchered each one properly, separating the meat into large but appropriate enough portions, in which he had wrapped them in butcher paper. He kept every part, placed the organs in organized jars from what beasts he had slain. He had processed the skins, kept the teeth and bones, set the boiled clean pieces to dry and bleach by the heat of the fires. All things seemed to be organized in jars from feathers, teeth, to bones. It seemed like Ra’rhuk was preparing for a feast that would out do any feast they had known life.Waiting in silence for some revelation to unfold was boring, no matter what he did, or said he could not get Ra’rhuk to acknowledge his presence. That crack about kissing the priestess must have really pissed his brother off. So he even tried to apologize, to no avail.
After what felt like an eternity at the temple watching the skulls, and bones dry, his brother finally stood up and began walking back to the provision post to pick up this mysterious box. He continued to ask his questions, unanswered as they were heading back to the altar. But now he could see what was so important with this box, that was not a box, but a huge trunk, a huge dowry chest. It was expertly done, and for what it cost it should have been. It was inlaid with gold, and red jewels, ravens were created with onyx stone inset into the wooden surface, there were the designs patterns of their people throughout as well the block style patterns that could be found throughout all of Zul’drak, on steps, borders and at the top of pillars. His brother had put a lot, too much thought behind this crate’s creation.  He recognized it for what it was now… Oh dear loa, what was he going to do to prevent his idiot brother from making a huge mistake?!
~You’re insane…. this is so far above and beyond from what I said about seizing an opportunity with a kiss.~ Of course Zor’din was being ignored while his brother was filling the chest with all these things he had collected and processed.
All Zor’din could do was watch this catastrophe slowly and methodically unravel before his spectral eyes in horror. As Ra’rhuk cleaned himself, oiled his frame down, and even took time with his hair braiding his hair adorning trinkets to it. Ra’rhuk began garbing himself not in his armor, but in a new outfit he had purchased of leather having a more traditional look to it, adorning himself in necklaces, paint, and a cloak Ra’rhuk had made of shoveltusk fur. No matter how much Zor’din had protested, as his brother departed with the heavy filled trunk in his hands, Ra’rhuk had paid no heed.
~If you go in there… I can’t help you! Just stop! Think ,damn it! Don’t do this! ~ Zor’din waved a corporeal hand in defeat before disappearing, while his brother charged off towards the door at the entrance of the priestess Shayna’s hut.
_________________________
The night that Sandria had passed on, Shayna did all that she could with providing what she can to aid Sandria to recover but her body was just not strong enough. Thankfully with Ra’rhuk’s help to keep a watch over Sandria which allowed Shayna to have a break. Such as to get some sleep, to eat and resume her daily routine within her household. As much as she had questions of who the female was, Shayna did not ask as her focus was to first help the poor frail woman recover. As much as Ra’rhuk had even frustrated Shayna, there were times such as a wet towel was needed to help lower Sandria’s fever. Shayna would retrieve what was asked and bring it to Ra’rhuk, at first she thought if the water wasn’t cold enough at least Ra’rhuk can cool it a little more by his touch. But just as she was heading back to return to what chore she was busy with, Ra’rhuk would call to her once more.
Shayna would return wondering what else was needed, only to find that the wet towel was not sufficient. It was not cold enough. Or not soaked enough. The material not soft enough. Things as this that truly tested the priestess’s patience with Ra’rhuk. As much as she had her frustrations, she never raised her voice or acted out on wanting to snap at Ra’rhuk. She reminded to herself that who ever Sandria is to Ra’rhuk, either a sister, a cousin, a friend, maybe even just a female he became close with. Who ever she is, if this is the only way Ra’rhuk showed ways that he cared then so be it. That he too had his concerns, it was self explanatory of just how awkward Ra’rhuk has been behaving lately but Ra’rhuk seem oblivious of his behavior.It didn’t seem to phase him or maybe he just didn’t understand? Whatever it may be, he had a connection with Sandria and his constant asking for only the best for Sandria most likely is his way of caring toward someone that he most likely is fully aware that she is dying. Shayna was picking up on the signs of Sandria on the decline. Her time was drawing near, any day could be her last. Like a lit candle that had been burning all night and the wax had been melted all the way to the bottom where the wick was nearing it’s end.
Sandria slipped away that night while Ra’rhuk held her. What had awoken Shayna was the voice of Lukou calling her name, a sense to check the guest room. Where she would find Ra’rhuk looking at Sandria. She knew then that preparations of a proper burial must be made. No words spoken between her, or Ra’rhuk, she figured he needed time alone to give his tribute of honor as well as mourning. With how Ra’rhuk had been acting lately with his behavior she was not entirely sure how Ra’rhuk was going to react to the passing of someone he knows. It still was unknown of who Sandria is to Ra’rhuk but she would not ask, not right now. In time answers are always found. When Shayna did arrive as she heard his song and remained quiet, it’s been hours and she sought to not only check on him but knowing she had a ritual to part take in so Sandria’s soul would not be lost roaming. Once he was finished, and he had departed Shayna would preform burial rites ritual. Incense burned within a bowl to draw in Sandria’s spirit, placing down offering tributes to the loa Samedi to guide Sandria to the ancestors.Once she was done she could not find Ra’rhuk anywhere as he was not at her hut, she figured that he needed more time to be alone. But what was hours turned to days, days turned to weeks.
At some point with a month with no Ra’rhuk around, she decided to speak with Raji’din. Entering the temple of where he resides, greeting him and San’gee.  Tea was offered which Shayna would take, to help fight off the chill from her travel to reach the temple. Sitting at the fires light and soon Shayna had spoken her concerns.
“I have come to you to speak to you about Ra’rhuk.” She watched Raji’din lift a pale brow as she had his attention, he said nothing but simply was awaiting for her to say more.“About a month ago, he had shown up at my hut with a sick woman in his arms. Her name was Sandria….does that name sound familiar to you?”
“San-dria….” He slowly pronounced.
“Yes, do you know her?” She asked.
“I cannot recall…..but do continue with your story.” He motioned his hand toward her, he was buying some time to try to remember. Perhaps if she told more it would jog his memory.
“His behavior has been…..out of balance. He sought for my help and I promised I would help him. We did our best to help Sandria recovered but she passed away a few weeks ago. I did not ask him who she was, I wanted to give him space, and time so when he felt ready he would explain. But to also be there for him as he had asked……he’s going through his own turmoils. Much like you with memory, and emotions. After her passing…he left. It’s been a month and there has no no word from him, no letter, nothing. I do not know how he is, if he took Sandria’s death hard, or something else that he may be going through? He told me he didn’t want to endure such pain alone and I cannot find him. I have looked and asked the spirits for guidance but nothing has directed me….” Her voice held concern of Ra’rhuk’s well being, even though she knows he is fully capable to care to himself. It didn’t change the facts that he came to her for help. She had also delayed to talk to Raji’din about this as she did not want to cause any conflict but a month of waiting for his return and her worry just kept eating at her.
Raji’din listened to her explanation of his nephew’s behavior. He understood the complications that Ra’rhuk is going through, he has been going through the same. Though with differences between the two of what they experience. And to hear that someone that Ra’rhuk most likely is familiar with or maybe he mistaken the identity of the female? A female that had passed on recently, it is not often that someone of the past had survived the atrocities that Northrend had gone through. But there has been those few that had endured the cruelty that this land is known for. The few that had survived of his family was proof of that and a few others that he had witnessed.He soon spoke with his usual calm tone of his echoed voice. “I will look into it….but be aware that he may be gone for months. You may be correct that he needs his space. What he is going through are fleeting moments. What feels real now, can change on a whim and be forgotten, or not looked to as important. Perhaps, he has left for the reason is to keep you safe…….my nephew’s behavior may be out of balanced, but his logic to keep those that can be harmed by him to be spared.”
“It still doesn’t change the fact that he asked for help….I cannot stand here waiting for him to return to only find out that something may of happened. Something I, or even you could of prevented…” She sighed out gently.
“I understand your concern, you will need to be patient. He may return, and not be aware of why he left in the first place. Time is irrelevant to us, he may not even be aware that he has been gone for weeks at a time. When he does return, try not to over react emotionally. It can become overwhelming. I will look into it, and see if I can find him. And if I do find his location, I will contact you.”
The two spoke for some time, Raji’din even spoke of himself on a few experiences he has gone through to help Shayna gain a better understanding of what Ra’rhuk may be going through. As time went on, one month became two months, and soon three months.Shayna was back into her usual routine even though she wanted to talk to Kor’akk about Ra’rhuk but she held her tongue, she didn’t want to cause Kor’akk any worry. Those visits for her to act like nothing was going on, even if Kor’akk got a inkling that something is going on. Shayna would just tell him she was just feeling tired. There were no reports from Raji’din if he found Ra’rhuk, she even visited at times to only find out that he stopped searching due to the loa spoke one word. Wait.
So now she was waiting, not that she hasn’t in the first place, but to trust that everything is fine and Ra’rhuk will return. Late in the hour, Shayna was sitting in the main room, her gaze on the fires light that provided warmth. Holding a cup of tea while her mind kept going over and over the words. Find him. Those two words heard by Sandria that had been plaguing her mind of what that meant. Maybe it was just to find Ra’rhuk. It made sense and if that was the case, it would be much easier to have closure on those two words. Unawares of when Ra’rhuk would return, he once again just suddenly showed up. The same way he had entered, the sound of his foot connecting to her door way to kick it open!
The sound of glass shattering onto her flooring once again. Shayna stood with her gaze wide as she was mentally trying to catch up to who just entered. She dropped her cup which laid in pieces with what was left of tea also splattered on her floor. Her eyes was on the chest that was being carried toward her. That was all that she was looking at to see this large chest that was skillfully created with such detail of trollish decor. The coloring of red and gold along with onyx stone shaped ravens. When the trunk was place down at her feet she finally lifted her gaze to realize Ra’rhuk was not in his armor. But he was dressed up in traditional leathers and smelling like he rolled in herbs and spices. What is going on here?! She can see the oil on his fur from the fires light reflecting off his skin.
He rose up to stand before her, speaking in his typical hollow echoing voice. “Excuse my intrusion, it is only out of the utmost importance that I require an audience with you.“
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rarhuk · 7 years
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Reckless Patterns
At one time the dead were buried.... At one time my people buried their fallen, in gold caskets, in that of decorated stone from our quarries, or in the earth with many of their life treasures with them. We sang in our grief of their memories, and we sang out their life stories, be it glorious heights of the most esteemed warriors and chiefs, or the short lives that burnt out too quickly. It was our tributes of voices in love that caused the light in the brazers to burn so bright. Together we would open the great gate of the spirit realm, our hearts would lead our people home into the awaiting arms of our ancestors.
The ritual practices were only as elaborate as the rank one held in life. One can still find some of these lavishly adorned gold, jeweled and carved sarcophagi within the tomb of the ancients in the bowels of Gundrak. There were great funeral processions, to give honor and respect, to offer aid to the grieving families, yet once the sarcophagus was set in the stone at the initial funeral those not of blood ties would depart. These places were considered sacred, one could only visit them by appointment, if they were family, or the priests and prophets attending the dead allowed it.
During the main portion of my life my people frowned down upon any of those that practiced any to all forms of necromancy, as it was disrespectful to disturb the dead. In my earlier years in life, necromancy as a whole was largely unheard of, there were rumors of it yet, usually it wound up a case of those wanting to accuse for some sort of personal gain. It truly was an offense and it was not a prevalent activity due to the punishment, with only a few exceptions to the rule. The priests at times would seek the wisdom of past kings, chiefs, prophets, high ranking warriors, and others that held a great importance, yet that was with the spirit of the departed, not that of raising a body. It was only then practiced with permission, going through the channels of rank, and family allowance before it actually was permitted.  That was all well, before the age of the returning, where the rumors became louder then whispers, and the proof of it’s practice was in the witnessing.
It was something that was gradual, it caused whispers, and fear to spread. The dead began to rise, a plague was sometimes brought in their wake. Sometimes the shambling dead returned to loved one’s, disorientated, hollow shells of who they once were. The family with good intentions tried to cure the ailment, some times through medicinal means, other times by ending them. In all cases the guards were eventually sent in to investigate the situation, yet at the time the source was unknown, and the cases were so rare that to pin point it down was nearly impossible. It turned neighbors against each other, all were suspect, the pressure increased amongst the common masses. In cases where these families that had welcomed these abominations back into their homes without ending them, they were eventually turned in and found out. The punishment for the crime was death, it left little room to question, whether the family had raised the thing, or if it was an outside source. We called it at the time, preventative maintenance. We did not know what spread the blights and plagues, we did not know if it was a curse set upon us, or one that came with the walking dead. It was only in those end days we learned of the source and cause. At the time, however, we merely eliminated the problem as instructed... entire families were wiped out, we burned their corpses there was no funeral rites, they were stripped of their titles and importance, their names were no longer spoken. They were not even considered proper sacrifices to the gods with the taint the undead had left upon them. We all believed we were right in our course of action, there was no room for pity even though we all could relate. It caused many of us to secretly question, to doubt. We privately asked ourselves; what would we do in their position? What would a woman do when her fallen mate, or son returned to her? A brother, a father, a fallen friend? Could we truly blame our people? These things were there, but we did not have much room to question as we were to follow orders. We did so, with as much mercy as we were allotted.
Perhaps, it was folly in hindsight, that my people no longer permitted necromancy, as none of the Zul’s could undo what had been done, there was no cure to be found, no way within their understanding to protect the people from what seemed a slow uprising of the walking dead. It was when the living drew ill that they had to adjust their ways to prevent further spread of the infections, even with our swift hands we could not stop what was to come in the wake of the onset. Our funeral rites and traditions began to change throughout this spiraling direction. At first funeral rites were individual, we still spent the time building the funeral pyres, adorning it with trinkets that held memories of those that had passed on. It was apparent economically, as orders sent to the stone quarries became less, priests were no longer called upon to oversee the procession. As the civilian body count began to rise, we were soon forced to abandoned all the individual rites. We began digging mass grave pits for the surmounting dead. We covered them in flammable liquids to ignite and burn with a heat so strong it would cleanse, that nothing would be left but ash. As time drew onward, not even graves were dug, no pyres built. One would see a body on the road, one did not bother to move it, some oil to burn, and a torch was simply used before walking onward. Perhaps, a passing prayer was spoken, or a song sung to lead the fallen home, yet we could no longer give more then that.
At first I knew the names, I knew the families, and yet that too became a forgotten thing. The civilians had each other for comfort for the most part, families could unite, could find comforts in their luxuries and possessions, blind themselves with games and politics, and close off their homes to what was happening around them. We warriors could not, what we saw, what we faced were the cold, hard truths, and the bleak facts. If something was not done properly, our people in their entirety would fall.
During the course of the years in the regiment of Rhunok. My brother and I came up with a name game, in a way to remember the newer addition’s names, but to keep a distance between us and them. Between the two of us it was a friendly wager, we named the newer recruits numbers, at first it was the weeks or days they would last. A name that was the first letter of their name, and of such a number, as three days. It had nothing to do with their identification number, or rank, it was something quietly agreed upon between the two of us. I would say three days, and if the new recruit fell on the third day I would get a small winners purse of gold, if he died before the third day, or after the third day I would pay my brother the winnings. He would chose the recruit of his choice that he would gamble on, and give a number, such as five, if the individual lasted longer, or less then the five days I would get the purse.  Rahtaz three, was shortened to R three, and Brekal five was shortened to B five, we would name them for instance between ourselves.... It was no more then two or three gold, and we usually wound up equaling out our winnings to where neither of us had more then the other. We realized although it kept us sane, as our tears had dried long ago over past fallen brothers and comrades, this game we had it also damned us further. When weeks became days, and the days shortened hours... To look forward to their up coming deaths for a bit of coin, there was no honor in that, and it spoke of how far we had fallen as individuals, and as a people. That in small ways we all were damning ourselves further, just for a sense of normality, something we felt we were in control of.
Starvation, illness, too young to be set upon the battle field were the main reasons we were falling so easily. I used to remember all my comrades names, yet over the years so few of us that originally started out in training together remained in those end times. We had given up recalling that importance... such as a name, or a sense of brotherhood. As the piles of the bodies of our dead burned, so did pieces of us. We became numb, forgetting ourselves, making games with the promise of coin, and in drink over the ending of lives. We insulted the gods, made a mockery of our ancestors, dishonoring ourselves in the ways we behaved, yet it was only to survive another day pushing us farther from those emotional ties of connection. It was as if any of what made the Drakkari a formidable tribe in it’s strong foundations was crumbling under the weight of her fallen.The dead outnumbered the living. We scant few that remained of her warriors were the damned, left to walk the lonely roads to merely defend the corpses we burned.
I buried the female Sandria, I did not burn her body, it was what I could offer her.... In life I would have made her a elegant resting place, one of gold and riches, yet as I am now I had nothing more to give. A shroud of silk and fur to line the earthen grave, and the trinkets she wore when I found her. I could not recall her loa, I could not recall her blood lines, I am certain she had told me at one time, but it was lost to me now. It was time to bury her, yet I could not lift the shovel. I could not move for some time. My mind fought with my frame and I was still unable to move. I was flooded in memories with sounds of her laughter, her smiles, the way we embraced, the way she moved. How I held onto the scent of her flesh in the morning hours, when she left to bathe, by holding close her pillow, and my palm would search to hold onto her dissipating heat from the furs. That scent even in death lingered, stronger in memory recall than in the physical sense. I may not have invested my love with her in my life time, yet I felt now a great burden of debt on my chest. I owed her a proper burial, proper rites to be with the ancestors, and yet I could not move to do so...
In the days that remained while she was living under the care of the priestess, only moments had there been where she was briefly conscious. I desired information, I desired for her to be awake to recognize me once more. I had desired for a great many of things. I wished she had lived, so I could right the wrongs I had committed, to be forgiven, to be redeemed in status through her. These were all self serving desires. She grew steadily weaker, there was nothing the priestess could have done to save her. I was aware of this, and yet my frustration held a target towards Shayna, there were many reasons as to why and none can be justified, only clarified. Shayna is a very tolerant female towards my... difficulties. Sandria, and all her answers died with her, I am simply left without. I decided to distance myself from the priestess to do this one honor to Sandria, of course Shayna would be granted the final sacred duties only a priestess can perform. This was my time to pay tribute, and respect, yet I found I could not. It was as if I put full attention on the task at hand to continue, the more I was distracted by memories. A simple action became more complex than I could understand while I was unable to function, to proceed forward had ceased. I decided if I was to continue I needed to surrender to these invasive memory recalls, perhaps the answers were there even if it was not in a fluid continuity, as they were not in an order of a time line.
Breath… it comes easily for the living. Yes, at times it is a struggle, but eventually it comes not of conscious thought, but reflex. A need to, a desire to, a passion that drives us against resistance to take a breath eventually. It eventually comes again, or the living die. She had died in my arms... at rest, at that final peace. I stared at her for some time pondering what it would be like for her, would death be like a shroud lifted, would she be welcomed home? Would she be home with those of the ancestors, rewarded for all those prayers, all those tributes paid for in those hopes of an afterlife? Or would she find that emptiness I had found? I envied her, as much as I feared for her in that unknown personal journey. It was in the quiet of the night, and the priestess seemed to be aware of the situation as she had woke up to check on her patient. Shayna had aided me in attending to the preparations, that was fluid in motion without many words between us, until the point I was at in the moment of holding the shovel unmoving.
My mind wandered over the event of her death as much as her life, winding it’s way over the smallest things, the ones I could remember clearly, and of those I cannot truly fathom in the present. Such as I could not recall if she was six, or seven seasons older than I was in age, she was older, wiser, mature comparatively to myself in life. Why this had an importance, I do not know... I lingered there for some time trying to recall. It could be I was searching for what my own age would be at the moment. I have long forgotten to count the years as they slip past me, to the point I’m only aware of how much time has passed by the realization of how much others have changed in physical appearance. She seemed elderly.  Would my own bones be as frail, weak my stature, my skin as loose as her’s was, if I had lived to that age? Through the fine lines, and scaring it was still her, even if she was barely as my recall protested her to be. My mind had argued over the differences so loudly as if in some denial that what I seen was actually one in the same. It could not be...
Our world is not fair, it had been cruel to a person of worth and of kindness, every breath had been a struggle with no reward. It was pity I believe I felt, guilt, remorse, these small moments where it seemed almost balanced where there was laughter and joy, yet, it did not seem enough. I would have gave her a life of pleasures, a life fulfilled, yet the good intentions had run dry when I did not return. Regret, hung heavily over what I had not done more of, in the time I had with her. I had not protected, or provided for her as I intended to do, instead I had abandoned her in my death, in my death severe injustices had been done. I do not know what happened to my lands, or my home upon my death. I do not know if they were sold, or left for the dead to haunt, I do not know what happened to those in my service. I do know her life had been extremely difficult from what condition she was in, when I had found her. She deserved the peace from the burden of my questions, and interrogation, if she had lived instead.
If I had lived would I have found my home and lands taken from me? Would I have stood by her side to prevent what her life had done to her frame from happening? I did not know the true answers to this, as I had been a different being then, compared to what I am now. These things I had not thought on for the years as I am now, as I did not care, and yet here I stood with these questions knowing no matter what the answers were I was in no place to come up with an answer that was honest. From my detached perspective she would have been a liability, I would have abandoned her. Although, I am aware that the living condition of emotion could have persuaded me to do otherwise, even if I was not in love with her, my sense of duty may have changed the outcome. I did her no justice standing there motionless, I did her no honor with mentally toying with endless possibilities of what did not occur, she was dead and beyond such concerns. While I thought on these things that melancholy melody played in my head of my mother’s singing. It was not a solace that I sought refuge in, it was an another annoyance I did not want to hear, nor address. I did not wish for that ache to settle in once more, as I had a task to do. I began to lower the dirt into the hole.
As I buried her, I didn’t realize I had began singing the song, however my altered voice lacked that variation I held in life, it was the same song. It was only on the final verses that words registered clear in my ears that it was my own voice.
We remember you in the pale sun how your memory continues to shines. We remember your sway in the moon’s awaiting graces. We remember the connection to our ancestors in our songs. We remember your teachings. We remember you always in everything we do. Forget us not while we slumber, watch over us in our dreams. We will sleep on through the night in peace. Sleep on, sleep on in peace.
It was a children’s lullaby my mother sang, it did not hold a clear connection to any certain loa. It was not a song to light the funeral pyres by, it did not hold any tale of great deeds, it was not of an importance for her. It irritated me that I had sang it in the first place unknowingly, and yet, it seemed oddly... fitting. Perhaps, it had been my delay in finishing the burial, because as I placed a talandra’s rose upon her grave, Shayna had appeared. I told her I was finished and she could do as she needed to before I departed.
I am conflicted when it comes to the priestess....
I keep my interactions brief, my thoughts, and expressions guarded for her sake. This friendship... needs this distance. I am too attached to her council, and her presence. I intrude and take liberties where I should not. My brother is of no aid in this, his taunts of feelings, being open with expressing myself, to allow other opportunities to blossom, irritate me. We have had arguments that seem as if it is an unending cycle. He cannot comprehend why I do not pursue her, I no longer explain it to him.
I cannot deny the temptation’s presence, again it is a selfish cold ambition which Shayna is not deserving of. I admittedly have used her for my own designs time and again to display that attachment I hold for her company. It is her own words of friendship, that halts my progress as if the boundary is firmly set in stone. I cannot read minds, or decipher expressions in the eyes as I did when I was living. She is neither a female from my past world in the regards of treatment. I had in the past thought on her reactions if I demanded her attention as I would have done in life. Each scenario I ran through would have me banished from her presence rather than an acceptance my advances. I do not have modern progressive suave, I am archaic in my approach. Although, I’ve studied the interactions between Brix’tul and Elle, I do not believe I hold a talent for persuasion as he held over the elf and continues to fascinate her with to this day. Shayna, is of a different land I do not know the ritual practices it would require of me to pursue her interests. I’ve tried subtly asking of her people’s customs from time to time, but it seems she does not wish to speak on such subjects.
Zor’din insists I should just take it upon myself and kiss her, just to see where that leads. I disregard his many forward suggestions as she deserves the opportunity to pursue whom she desires, not that of one such as I.  I have explained it to him, in many ways, I do not think he can truly understand the position that pursuit will place her in. Shayna is still of breeding age, I cannot grant her a child. Shayna is a priestess of the light, she could damage me severely if she so desired. I do not know how I would respond if she did so on accident. She will grow old, I will remain the same... I will be burying her as I have done with Sandria. I can’t justify by any means stealing from her the life she is meant to live by my constant presence, as it only hinders her from finding a living male that will fulfill her desire for a living, breathing, fulfillment that only a warm bodied individual could provide. An individual that will love her as fully as she loves them. I cannot love in the depths I once knew. I am now closer to my emotions due to the boon I was granted, but it is still... not the same as it once was. She has denied me indirectly many times as it is, and if I spoke plainly it would not change the situation. I am grateful she has tolerated my demands of her as of so far, yet I cannot pursue further on these selfish longings to find a meaningful connection to the living.
It is frustrating.... simply because I want for more.
I do not believe she can see these things within me. I would keep it that way, to spare her.
Perhaps, that is why I had difficulty burying Sandria... it is that pain and suffering we carry when we come to the realization that all we encounter wind up in similar position. We are left with their memories, portions of their lives, we recall those expressions when life was good, yet we all see them pale, eventually they fade from memory slowly as if clinging tendrils to remind us of our part to play in their demise from the world. Perhaps, not the direct cause, perhaps, it is the disconnect that we can never be apart of that part of their journey, a desperate jealousy of what we cannot have, yet they are granted it upon their deaths. I believe those with the same condition as I, feed off their lives and stories for our own selfish continuance. We are drawn to them because of what has been denied us, we enjoy their own suffering in life because of our presence in it. Our mere presence denies them opportunities, yet we speak of pretenses of love, devotion, honor, and loyalty, when in truth it cannot be. Love, devotion, honor, and loyalty, is not something we truly carry. Even those that proclaim that they are capable, can show a vast array of emotion, it is still a lie we display for the living to deceive them into trusting us. In truth, no matter how we display love, what actions we take to prove it to the living, and ourselves, it is a lie. I cannot proclaim these things to Shayna with selfish intentions, as I am aware love is selfless. What I desire now, will fade, my curiosity will eventually be sated with her once I have finished with my theft, my fascination and intrigue will turn elsewhere given the time. I was created to be this way, insatiable desire to create pain and suffering as much as I would attempt to deny it for the sake of another, I cannot do so entirely. She does not deserve to become as Sandria had became, a wasted shell of a memory to a self serving being.
I believe that is why I had the long pause in my task....That realization of possibility that I am doomed to forever to make the same mistakes, there is no true redemption for those that cannot move forward, grow and change due to the stages of their life experience. I am to be forever as I am, as the world and the people in it move onward.  I cannot change my patterns and tenancies, those remnants of what my living self held, and that of which I am now. I may be altered in my physical functioning state, yet what made me the male I was ultimately to become in life, still resides inside my basic design influencing my decision making. My cold logic is debating with it’s irrational side, the desperate Drakkari warrior, and the calculating knight battle onward, over what is the best approach, if any approach is necessary....
I believe I will disregard my previous statements, and heed my brother’s advice... to see where this reckless pursuit leads... Regardless of the outcome, the truth will be known and it will be clarified. I will not shepard the course, I will allow Shayna to decide, as I do not trust my own decision processes. 
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rarhuk · 7 years
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Revelations ( part 4 )
( Final installment. 4 th portion of A Short story collaboration with @tribeoftrolls. The priestess Shayna’s written part was done by @tribeoftrolls )
The earlier parts of the story
Part one Part two Part three Below, is the story’s conclusion...
Shayna was within the kitchen fixing herself a cup of tea, dressed in her usual long night robe as it was becoming late in the night and her company of Zekoa and Kor’akk’s had departed an hour or two ago. She was chuckling on a previous conversation she had with the two, the company of both of the males was always entertaining and humorous. She picking up her cup of tea to take a whiff of the herbal fragrance.
“Mmm…” A soft smile as she looked forward to sitting at the fire and getting some reading done. Just as she picked up a small tray of cookies, most were already eaten by her earlier company but a few were left. She was heading toward the main living space on the same ground level of her kitchen when the sudden sound of her door being kicked in startled her. The sound of glass shattering with tea spilling on the floor, the small metal tray clanged onto the floor scattering cookies.
“By Lukou’s light!?” She shouted out in zandali with her gaze wide, her hand extended out ready to cast a spell to defend herself when she saw Ra’rhuk barge into her home and bee lining it toward the guest chamber. Her hand to her chest with her other hand that is extended out was glowing a golden light before she closed her fist and the spell dissipated. She was heading toward the guest room where Ra’rhuk had entered in, the smell of blood was in the air and the scent of who she can only guess was coming from who Ra’rhuk carried in. She stopped abruptly when he was walking toward her in such a fast stride that she stepped a few steps back to let him pass.
“Ra’rhuk what is going—” Her words interrupted as he spoke up. She looked to the direction of where Ra’rhuk dropped Sandria off and heard of his warnings of the possibility of being crazed. To be guarded. Shayna was walking after him just as he was heading out the door. “Ra’rhuk wait! What happened!” She called for him, stepping out of the door to watch his figure gain more and more distance from her home. “Ra’rhuk!” She called once more but he seemed mostly determined to depart. Whatever had happened Ra’rhuk may have good reason to depart, she knew of his volatile behavior if triggered. Letting out a gentle breath she entered back into her home before the cold of outside became to much for her to endure. She returned to the guest room to look to the female that laid upon the cushions of the pillows on the floor, quickly approaching as her pillows were becoming stained in blood. She knelt down to the female, reaching her hands out to place her hands upon her body. Closing her eyes and focusing to flow gentle healing light to gain a sense of the condition of Sandria’s body.
Softly speaking in zandali. “Listen, to the sound of my voice……..embrace the light of Lukou. You are safe….no harm, nor danger shall draw near to you while under the protection of Lukou……..rest child. Be at ease as you have found refuge…” While she spoke she was mending the wound at her forearm for the flesh to become whole, this female was a utter mess as there was a lot that her body was enduring and struggling to stay alive. Infection was deep set within her body, sickness was seeking to spread and her weaken condition was slowly failing.
Shayna felt the sense of death drawing near should she remain as she is, the lack of nutrition was also against Sandria. But while under the care of Shayna, she would do all that she can to help Sandria recover. Once she felt the sense of Sandria relaxing, that she felt her submit to deeper sleep. Shayna got to work to tend to Sandria while she was unconscious.
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~ Brother… It’s time to stop. It’s been hours and the current toll of dead cannot be any deader.~ Zor’din’s resigned was muted under the grotesque crunching and snapping of bones that were being rend free of their limbs.
Ra’rhuk’s armor and exposed flesh were covered like viscous paint strokes of deep red hued bodily substance. His hair had been tied back earlier when he had cleaned, now it was shellacked slick, and thickly stained in his victory. Nothing was glorious about this kill, it was done out of a necessity to maintain. He grunted as he tossed the limb aside as if it was an unwanted thing, as he dismantled him most recent kill. He had his fill, he was only doing the action to curb the urge of those around him, that held an importance to him. “ I’ve had enough…. “
~ Are you sure? ~ Zor’din let the doubt hang between carried by his words.
“ Would it matter? “ Ra’rhuk asked with his brow raised in honest inquiry, as he rose his foot to be resting on the disemboweled torso as one would rest it on a step.
~ Yes. Yes, it would… For a few reasons. Important reasons, I might add. Such as the passed out lunatic you dumped off, and the priestess you pretty much forced into a corner to handle your mess....again. Highly unfair, and… Bah, I’m just repeating myself. You know for as polite as you’d like to think yourself being… You’re really not. ~ The spirit hovered over towards his brother who seemed to be resting his foot, not moving. ~ Are you going to head back, or what?~
“ I haven’t decided… “ Ra’rhuk smirked slowly at his brother’s impatience.
~ Why are you drawing this out? You’ve had your fill, go back to the hut!~ He used his corporeal arms to wave in that direction in an excited mannerism.
“ I’m hesitant due to the difficulties I’m having. “ Ra’rhuk confessed while lowering his foot to the ground. He slowly looked in the direction in which his brother had motioned towards.
~ loa’s me… Please, stand by, Ra’rhuk is having difficulties, we’ll get back to our regularly schedule program once he gets his head out of his ass. The world must halt while the great Ra’rhuk takes his sweet time processing.~ He made a motion of a kick at one of the corpses, of course making no contact it was just for expression. Zor’din was seemingly on his wits end with his brother by this time. He turned and batted his eyelashes at him using an overly kind voice. ~ What is it this time? ~
Ra’rhuk should have known better then to try to speak to Zor’din, he was based still in his emotional whims. There was no true clarity to be found with shade. “ Hmmmm… It’s time I depart. “ He turned his back on Zor’din and began heading towards Shayna’s hut leaving his hunting grounds of the corrupt behind him.
~ Seriously, I’m just trying to help… just talk, Rhuk, Share the good, or not so good word.~ Zor’din pleaded as he followed along.
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Shayna had vials of medication on the night stand near the bed that she had gotten Sandria to rest upon. She had taken noticed that Ra’rhuk did what he could to tend to the female but she was far from being out of the woods of her frailty. Given that Ra’rhuk spoke of her being possibly crazed and illness can do such to a person she had Sandria bound to the bed, nothing that would cause harm to Sandria. Shayna had placed an enchanted bracelet’s on her wrists, the bracelets bound to keep Sandria on the bed until Shayna knew further of the females mental condition before allowing any further freedom of moving around in the room.
As the fever slowly ebbed back Sandria murmured incoherently words, some made no sense in that strange gibberish, while some were unmistakably meant be heard by someone’s ears. “ Find him…. “ Who that someone she had to find she did not say as fell into a deep slumber.
She had broken a fever that Sandria was suffering under, for now Sandria was resting comfortably and at ease. Shayna had taken her blood soaked pillows and other fabrics that blood as well as vomit had soiled a blanket. It was going to be a long night and the sort that Shayna knew she was not going to get much rest until Ra’rhuk’s return. She had changed to a different robe as well, the previous one she wore also had been soiled by blood but nothing that she wasn’t unprepared on how to clean. She had cleaned up the small mess in her kitchen and taken care of the soiled fabrics of the blanket, her robe and pillows by washing and the bundle of wet fabrics would have to wait till morning for her to hang outside to dry. Carrying a wicker basket with the wet fabrics inside, she was walking down the steps from the bathing room.
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Ra’rhuk had approached Shayna’s hut, but did not go inside. He instead, decided to wait outside, for a long moment just at the end of her bottom steps.
~ What is wrong with this picture?…. I’ll give you a hint, it has to do with actually going inside. ~ Zor’din was motioning towards the door. ~ See this… go in. You know I can’t, or I would. She has the inside warded. I can’t walk past this step or poof, banished.~
“ I recall you being annoying, just not this…. impatient. “ He took an intentional breath and released it slowly. Cupping his hand to either side of the outside of his tusks, he suddenly shouted out the priestess’s name. “ SHAYNAAAA! “ His intent was to draw her outside rather then go inside, as inside was something he lacked a want to bother with at the moment. “ SHAYNAAAA! “
Zordin would have blinked had he the eyelids, so he just pretended as his brother was roaring out the priestess’s name. He hadn’t even been able to jab back at that response his brother had given him. ~ What are you doing?! Rooky come a courting, or what is this? Just walk in! You didn’t seem to have an issue kicking in her door earlier. ~ His brother rightly confounded him sometimes. ~ You better do something about your face, if you planned on a date, it’s covered in blood. ~
Ra’rhuk looked at his brother’s spirit and decided he was correct on his appearance. He bent down low, scooping up two hand fulls snow a cupping he rose to vigorously rub the snow on his face to clear it of the blood. “ Better? “ He asked turning his face to look at Zor’din a moment before repeating the motion in kneel. Shayna had not came to the door, so he devised another plan to get her attention. He was making snowballs, and throwing them at her windows… “ SHAYNAAAA! “
~ No, but it’s going to have to do, because heeeeere she comes. ~ Zor’din replied hearing the hurried foot steps draw nearer to the entrance way.
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She had no idea whom Sandria was calling out for, she could be searching for her mate, her brother, a son, it could be a numerous of situations of what Find Him implied. The female was a face that Shayna would not recognize or know for certain of who she is besides a sickly female that Ra’rhuk had brought and left in her guest room. She had been thinking over of the two words she heard the female mutter. Perhaps when she was more coherent then Shayna can talk to her. At least she was hoping and was going to aid to help fight against what illness has it’s grip upon the poor woman.
She had settled the wicker basket next to the entrance of her hut while she was sorting through a few more things, she also busying herself to stay awake for when Ra’rhuk entered. Before settling down she entered the guest room once more, checking Sandria and the female still slept. Shayna would return to the living room area to settle upon the couch, there she waited. And waited some more until sleep had claimed her. How ever long she was asleep, it could be an hour, could of been two or more but the sudden yelling of Ra’rhuk’s voice had her jump. She swears her own spirit may of also leaped beyond her ceiling as his voice would roar out her name once more.
Ra’rhuk juggled a snow ball back and forth from one hand to the next, as he was about to take aim at another spot on the hut’s exterior. He grinned at his brother… a slow almost eager grin, as if that dormant immaturity was rising to the surface. He may just pelt a Priestess if she decidedly burst through the door.
“Loa….Ra’rhuk!!” She cried out from her being startled in zandali. She was trying to get to the door in haste only the light within the room had dimmed. She tripped over her foot rest and caught her balance in mid step, trying to get her bearings what felt like an eternity to get to the entrance while she heard snow pelting onto her windows. Her patience was out the door by now. She snagged her hooded cloak to place around her, stepped her way out of the door into the cold and before she uttered one word.
~ I don’t have a clue what has gotten into yuh—-~ Zor’din took his eyes off Ra’rhuk only to look at the entrance way of the hut seeing the Priestess barrel out of there on a mission. ~ Aim for her feet or this is going to get much worse! ~ Zor’din warned his brother. The spirit waved his almost invisible arms trying to warn the priestess.
~ Wait! He’s— ~ With all the warding that protected the female Zor’din wasn’t certain if she could see him, or hear him at all. But the warning came too late!
She grabbed one of her necklaces. Holding to it as she moved her hand in a sweep motion, a spell was cast directly at Ra’rhuk. A harmless one but a spell that would cause a knock back to hopefully have Ra’rhuk fall on his ass on the snow. “That’s for scaring me not once but twice! And leaving to care to who you brought in with hardly any explanation!” She yelled in zandali sounding quite miffed.
Zor’din began to cackle his corporeal ass off as Ra’rhuk was instantly dazed and toppled over on his plated rear end by a ball of light to the face. The snow ball flew straight up in the air and as if in slow motion fell from the sky only to collide upon Ra’rhuk’s head. Served him right! Ra’rhuk knew better, and he had been acting dumbass since he had arrived. Zor’din was glad the target hadn’t been him! Zor’din was laughing it up, thoroughly enjoying this moment, because Shayna accomplished something he had wanted to do all day knock his brother to his senses.
Ra’rhuk was recovering from the hit that had him on the ground, most suddenly. It hardly registered that he had been hit by his own snow ball, the light had been too intense. He held out one hand as if to keep her back as he was rubbing to his temple with index finger and thumb, trying to clear his vision. He did not care for spell flingers, especially those that could leave him disorientated. His level of irritation was on the rise, so he remained motionless until it had passed. He was not harmed it was just the matter of his progression being hindered by Shayna’s action towards him. It had been uncalled for in his mind to step it up to that level as he was merely attempting to get her outside to speak with her…. Perhaps, the snow ball was slightly uncalled for as well, yet his intention was not one of maliciousness in nature only.. maybe slightly malicious… but he hadn’t deserved that approach by her in his mind.
She went right back into the hut to fetch her wicker basket before she would hear Ra’rhuk out. It wouldn’t take her long as she shortly returned with the wicker basket in both of her hands. A frown upon her features as she was approaching, she was irritable due to her fatigue and not that it’s not known that she has a fiery side to her from time to time. She would hand him the wicker basket, pretty much making sure he grabbed it.
“ Shayna… I - “ Ra’rhuk’s hand was still outstretched as if to keep her away from him, or he just had forgotten to lower it, when he received a basket of clothing. His digits curled slowly around the outer edging of the object. His hand at his temple lowered, his glowing eyes inspecting to what had been placed for him to take before slowly rising upward to meet her own.
“Now…before I freeze out here. You’re going to hang these on my clothes line…while I go get something warmer to put on to be out here. Or are you going to come in? ” She crossed her arms mostly to pull her cloak closer to her body as the temperature late in the hours was not exactly welcoming to be standing in. She had her cloak that provided her warmth but she needed more then just her cloak.
“ I will hang your clothes on the line… Although, I believe it defeats the purpose, they will only freeze unless you make a fire to dry them by the heat. “  He advised.
“I am aware of this..” She breathed out with a light shake to her breath from her shivering. “I have a fire pit already there I can get a fire started once I return..” Living out in Zul’Drak, hanging clothes to dry always required a fire to be near by so her clothing didn’t freeze up so much.
He slowly rose and moved to the clothes line. “ I will wait for you to return. “ He noted with a dip of his head as he proceeded to do the task set before him. Shayna would depart to head back in to dress in warmer attires. He was hanging the clothes along the line while his brother continued to yammer onward in consistency.
~ What is it that you are so afraid of in that hut, that - I - wind up the lesser of the two evils to keep company with? ~  Zor’din asked as his brother was doing woman’s work that was so beneath his station in life. The irony did not escape him, and it greatly entertained him as Ra’rhuk was clothes pinning like an expert, and seemed to know his way around a hamper.
Ra’rhuk was ignoring Zor’din for the time being as Shayna had in short returned. She returned with a thicker fur coat as well as clothing beneath that would keep her warm against the cold.
“Ahh…much better..” She spoke in a lighter tone.
Her mood was much more improved while she made her way towards him, the snow crunching under each step. As soon as Zor’din gave a sign that he wasn’t going to keep silent Ra’rhuk rose a single digit in warning. It was a stern enough warning that Zor’din was aware if he did not take his leave there would be grave consequences.
~ Excuse me, priestess… I must exit stage right, for the time being.~ He bowed in theatrics, before he did his mysterious disappearing act, with a poof of wavering air.
She picked up the sound of Zor’din’s voice, she thought she heard laughing but she was so irritated in the moment that she wasn’t sure if it was just the sound of the wind. Feeling much more calm now that she can withstand against the cold, she looked to the direction to get a glimpse of the spirit bowing and soon out of her sights.
“Zor’din..is that–..” She paused in her words, of course it was him. Though last time she knew that the spirit was hanging around Raji’din from time to time. The only reason she knew is due to talks she had with San’gee and him.
“Never mind…” She would call to him later if it was needed. Her attention soon was upon Ra’rhuk, looking him over and realizing he was staring at her. “Ra’rhuk?” She grabbed her hood to pull it back, her golden blonde hair spilling from the depth of her hood to drape at her shoulders.
Ra’rhuk continued to hold the empty basket as he looked to Shayna. He did as he always had done when looking towards any individual, studying and appraising the minuscule changes in demeanor. He was making a mental note to compliment, or disregard any adjustments in physical appearance what he would either deem necessary, or otherwise to mention. Ra’rhuk as always as if nothing happened a few moments ago, went forward with what was in the forefront of his mind to address. He did not hold the living’s emotional reactions against them, as it was to be expected, and he most likely deserved it even if he could not understand why.
“ I require… your guidance… “ He had began with allowing that to settle before he would continue. She gave a nod of her head and remained silent to hear him out.
“ I am not as I was when we last spoke… I’ve been granted a blessing one in which, I struggle with as it has given me vision of realization and revelation, beyond what I have known for… “ Ra’rhuk’s brow creased a moment it was apparent he was having difficulties with something. He abruptly walked up to her stone porch, after setting the laundry basket down he stood there silently for a long moment before walking back towards Shayna. He looked like a usher as he placed his hand to his chest and then slowly with palm facing upward directed her to sit on the stone steps, or where he thought she would feel most comfortable. “ If you would rather sit, you may. “  He indicated so he could regain his thoughts processes. He simply would stand before her regardless.
Shayna was watching him as he began to speak, once he placed the empty basket down and noticed his hand motion toward the stone steps of her porch. Moving toward him her expression held wonder and thought to what Ra’rhuk wanted to speak on, she soon settled to sit on the stone steps. Pulling her coat closer to herself to maintain her warmth. “I’m listening..”
“ These sights and sounds are not of the world I know as it is… it is of what was. They are vivid, flashes of color, and… emotion. It is as if fragmented memories are rising, yet these are not just memories, they are sensations. What follows these uprisings my only way to describe them is… pain. It’s as if what rises within conflicts with my purpose in existence of what was then, and what is now inside of me. A weakness is etched into my foundations, unraveling everything that has held me sound up until this point. I implore to try to understand… This weakness cannot be, it conflicts with the very nature of what I am here before you, the more I try to abolish what wavers, the stronger I am in it’s grasp.“ He brought his fist to his chest once in a quiet knock to the plated armor. He took off his gloves setting them aside on the stone slab of the entrance. He moved a measured step to close in the distance between them, abruptly he knelt as if a ranking chief or king had entered. Ra’rhuk took one of Shayna’s hands in both of his with his head bowed and lowered, glowing gaze to the ground as if in utmost regard and respect. He allowed a still unmoving silence to settle in deeply around them, as if that too spoke the volumes of what he was attempting to say.
“ These years I have kept your company, I have done so as I am doing now… placing unfair, and unjust burdens on your shoulders to carry. These things I am incapable of doing, incapable to face…. alone. I thought by removing myself it would lessen the burden, but it seems to etch it’s way into my very being, my thoughts, the only sound upon the wind. “ He slowly lifted his eyes to trace her facial features, to gauge her understanding, to see if she could see what he was desperately searching to convey. His reaching attempt at an apology, and all the depths that he was struggling with. He used his unbroken tusk to point in the direction within the hut. “ What, who, I placed in there is a portion, a symbol of what I cannot regain. I cannot know the suffering she has gone through, I cannot feel it as my own. I cannot look at that burden, and undo what has been wrought out in all these years. I cannot correct it, or change the course of what will happen. I can be the hand in which these things are met with, yet I am not prepared to come to terms with the outcome.  “
After a moment of staring at the door he looked back to Shayna. He released her hand slowly, reaching out he touched to one of her braids. He lowered his hand and head once more. “ I am weakened by what I cannot have… I will see you all that I have held close to me as in as much fondness I carry, as I see her now. Much of what could have been, has fallen brittle like the leaves caught in winter’s breath, but a whisper of what was vibrant in the summer. That opportunity, and promise fulfilled is distant from me, detached because I cannot be apart of it no matter how I long it to be otherwise. I’m helpless to prevent and protect from what is to come, I cannot stop time’s hand… I cannot… endure… the… pain.. of that… alone. Please… help me. “ He growled with a strangling sound deep in his throat that rolled in a straining echo, not one of anger, but one of pain, as his head lowered hanging low on his neck as if in defeat.
She listened to him while he spoke and knelt before her, with her hands held and felt the cold of his hands in her grasp. Her warm hands gripping to his in return, her thumbs rubbing the sides of his hands as to provide what comfort she can give him. Her expression held concern as well as care as she stared to his glowing lich fire gaze. She awaited until he said all that was needed to be spoken. Hearing the strangling growl sound after he pleaded for her help. Her hands lifted up to place both hands to his cheeks to hold, thumbs once more moving the caress the sides of his face. Noticing the pain in his features, she wasn’t sure to use any of her shadow magic to ease it but she did seek to sooth by comfort of touch.
“Shhhhhh…….Ra’rhuk it’s alright. I am not mad at you, nor do I take this as a burden. No matter how late in the hour, I am here for those in need. Of course I will help you..” She gently spoke as she guided to lift his head to look to her, noticing he was doing his best to apologies but this seemed more deep then just an apology. Now that she got a closer look at him to take notice he also was covered in blood at his armor. Blood never really bothered her, being a healer she has had her fair share of all sorts of gore from wounds, sicknesses and broken bones.
“I will do all that I can to help…..You do not need to face this alone. You have endured difficulties before…” Such as the time he was put in jail for false accusation, that was quite the task to get him out of there. But there was no way she, nor the others were going to leave him held in that prison. Ra’rhuk had recovered as he remained in her hut for the time he needed to regain himself.
How he desired to feel the true warmth of her hands that freely offered a solace to what was turbulent within. He wished  that it held the power to ebb back the pain that worried on his turmoil like a dog with a bone, gnawing away within. His eyes slowly closed, as her gentle touch of thumbs had rose to offer that simple comfort upon his pallid cheeks. His thoughts on things of fragility and nothing of strength in that silence she had ushered in with her soothing voice. His thoughts if he could hold onto that sound, that rhythm of her voice and the tone that held the power of the calm, as her flesh did not, he could silence all that was jaggedly sawing at that newly risen agony. He listened as she spoke of not facing an obstacle alone, as he was slowly regaining his composure to look at her again. She was correct that he had faced similar tests of his endurance and fortitude before. He had not done it alone, there had been his allies, and she was included on that long list of those that had aided him.
“And you have helped me on many occasions in return. I’m not about to deny you the aid that you seek. It’s what friends do..” She smiled softly toward him before her expression returned to concern.
“ It has always been my pleasure to aid you… I - ” He slowly adjusted his stance as she spoke of being as what friends do as if some small realization had crept into his knowledge. His ears lowered upon that single word of friend, only to rise up to a passive height while he mirrored her smile in a reflection. Before his smile had fell completely placid  there was a brief moment where the expression held her own concern.
“From what you have told me, have you tried to…accept these changes going on with you? To allow these changes to take it’s place, to adjust to it, to learn so what may feel as pain. Will result to relief? I do have questions as well as to let you know of Sandria’s condition? But before I get to that I rather be sure you are alright first.” Her eyes never leaving his as she spoke her words, trying to comfort by touch with her hands remaining to hold his face for as long as he welcomed it.
She knew him well enough to know these indications of a carefully drawn up mask, he was hiding something. His expression now held that mild detached curiosity that he typically had in company to display an interest kept upon the conversation at hand, although thinking about something else entirely. “ I have… attempted to.. yes.  At times, to make it known… it can be worse then any suffering imaginable to not have my true intentions seen. ” He held a quietness about the nature of his voice.
He did not remove her hands from his face as long as she was willing to have them remain where they rested, he allowed her and himself that small intimate luxury. His gaze continued to search her facial features as she spoke in question of Sandria’s condition for a long time, before they shifted to the side looking to where the female Sandria was resting.  “ I am as well as it is to be expected. ” He spoke in reply to ease her mind in return.
“ You may ask your questions about Sandria’s condition. I will answer on all that I know, freely. ” He continued to stare in that direction of her hut before looking back to Shayna with a slight attempt at a smile.
“Now your sounding like your Uncle..” She lightly joked with a small smile as she has heard that line so many times from Raji’din. Knowing full well, an answer like that is most likely a cover up. She had been watching his expressions, how he closed his eyes. How he reacted and trying to figure out what more that may be going on with him. As if she can gain the answers by watching his gaze, his movements, how he spoke and how he displayed his expressions.
“Is there anything I can get you?” She asked. Knowing that if he did need anything, she most likely could provide it. Given the blood she figured he had sated his hunger but she rather ask then not at all.
“ No… I am where I wish to be. ” His voice rolled in a quiet echo onward until there was a quiet between them once more.
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rarhuk · 7 years
Text
Revelations ( part three )
(( Short story ))
At the temple, having finished tending to his wounded and disheveled guest Sandria, Ra’rhuk had settled in for a long night. Ra’rhuk and his brother’s spirit started into a slightly heated discussion when Sandria awoke unexpectedly.
The deranged screaming caused his ears to pin tight to his head. It was a sound that awoke many darker urges within Ra’rhuk, not only because of the fear that now hung so heavily upon the air that he could taste it, but the sound stirred a recall.... She had screamed for five days.... not the here and now Sandria, but another from his past, a memory that was soaked in blood and death. He was motionless as Sandria moved, not towards him in an attack, but scrambled in her fright away from him, stumbling and tripping over her too large robe. The tripping and stumbling seemed to halt the screaming into frightened rapid breaths before it resumed. Ra’rhuk’s glowing gaze narrowed tracing her movements with a fixation as a calculating predator watches it prey scurry a short distance away, highly aware that there was no chance for escape.
Sandria backed up in that backward crab like crawl into a far corner, while he remained motionless and silent as if he was merely observing. He watched as her back pressed hard against the stone walling, her knees drew upward closing in towards her chin, one of her hands seemed to be in search around her neck only to come to a stop in a fist at the top of her chest to grasp at nothing. Her other hand made strange movements out to her side rising upward oddly as if being drawn higher by some unseen string, as her screams fell into a series of breaths that held moans. The arm held out from her was almost mystical in motion as if warding him to stay back. The three digits of her fingers swayed and twisted as if plucking invisible berries from an unseen bush. Her eyes no longer saw him, they were glazed in tears, wandering about in frantic haste. When they had wandered in his direction it was if he was not there, they did not land and hold firm upon his own gaze, nor did they travel his frame, it was if she was seeing a scene that was not there, and he was not included in that line of sight.  Sandria began to speak in breathy, rasped tones, as if in attempts to comfort herself. Yet it seemed it was of no language Ra’rhuk knew of, his ears slowly rose from their tight position to listen. He searched his mind as she continued to speak in the gibberish, it was not zandali, it was not orcish, or any other he could name. This was not any language he knew, yet it was vaguely reminiscent of something he had heard before. A dreamwalker’s speak, many times he had observed a living individual while they slept, sometimes when they spoke out from slumber it was in a similar gibberish, a strange mumbling, and rambling babble, that sounded as if it was a language but was not, as if it had no place in the waking world. It was a language only known to the dreamer, it was meant for no one else’s ears.
“ She’s mad...” He voiced lowly in disappointment to himself, as Ra’rhuk did not believe his sight, or his words would matter from where the female traveled to in her mind.
He should end her suffering, but at this moment he had not. He turned his heels and had moved away from her, as he did not believe she would be moving from that spot she had cornered herself in. He kneeled, scooping up with his two fingers the necklaces that had resided soaking in the bowl, he removed them. Dangling there by firelight, dripped the items, laced in leather, beads, and charms he did not recognize her wearing in time spent with her in life. Save for one... It had been caked in dried mud and dirt, that the time spent in the bowl had removed the soiling. It was the emblem of his once house. It was what protected her during his life, what had claimed her as one of his own. It protected her from harassment when she went to market, traveled freely amongst his lands, or even those lands that did not belong to him. It was not a grand mark of entitlement, simply one of identification for his respected workers. A symbol if wrong was done to them it was an insult and wrong done to himself. It twisted and turned in the light before his eyes stark black and white, an image that depicted Rhunok, his regiment, his rank and title, the markings of such long since faded. Yet there was the small bear shaped in onyx stone, and the few white paint lines that remained. The necklace should have held many of the emblem charms as it would have been proudly displayed, all that remained was one. The charm was not evenly balanced, not at the center curving dip as if a center piece, but hanging at a side from what would lay close to the neck under the ear. In the background she still babbled and rambled incoherently as he stared at the necklaces and charm.
An intrusive voice from his past entered his mind. You don’t know what she had been through, you don’t know how she suffered. It was the grating voice of his once ally that had gone by the name of Kess. It had been a long ago opportunity to discover information that he had passed up by killing his ally and informant. He decided in that moment, not to let the opportunity presenting itself in the now, to pass him by. He had the choice in the now to right a single wrong out the many he had committed in his past. He rose to a stand, turned on his heels and began his slow approach. He crouched low to lower the intimidation and threat level. He inched forward with measured motions, to display he meant no harm, or ill will. He held out the jewelry before him as if in an offering, his head bowed low, his eyes adverted only looking to her in quick glances to observe if she was taking notice of him. It was only when that wandering and flitting hand of hers stilled, the babbling of her unknown language cease, did he pause in his motion forward holding a slight gaze in her direction. He merely held the necklace out, and spoke in low tones of their native tongue when it seemed she was looking at him and not some distant place. “ This belongs to you. I mean you no harm... “ His thoughts were to ease her mind and nerves to be on the same plain of existence as he was at. His motivation was to know what she had been through, to know what she suffered before making the final decision of her fate.  
Sandria snagged the necklaces in a fast motion only to withdraw as quickly and clutched them protectively to her breast. Her breath seemed quickened, and her wild eyes were focused on him. Ra’rhuk held motionless for some time before he slowly relaxed his out stretched arm to his side. He waited for a long moment before putting more weight toward the flats of his feet and leaning back to right his stance. He was going to depart after she had accepted his offering in amends, to use this time to build trust, as well as to make something for her to eat from the provisions he had purchased. Those good intentions were suddenly obliterated. Just as things seemed to be at peace and ease, Sandria lunged at him!
He had misjudged her state of being, as frail as she seemed, as fear ridden, and confused as she displayed, the motion was not what he was expecting. Ra’rhuk did not move to deflect what came at him, or defend himself from what in that moment seemed benign. As the living moved in such a manner in what is displayed appreciation as means of an affectionate embrace, what namely was called a hug. Ra’rhuk had not received a hug of appreciation in that motion, after he returned the necklaces. He found he was embracing a ‘ hug’ directly to the face from a swinging left hook fist. A small fist, that did not have power to knock him over, but it was jarring nonetheless as it stuck soundly right between his eyes. It was all forgivable, she was frightened, she was creating boundaries, he had taken something that belonged to her, he had violated her personal space at the moment, and even before hand by changing her condition with his actions of cleaning and redressing her. It was all reasonable to expect she may react as she had, if thought upon in a logical state of hindsight.
It was not the actual punch to the face that changed the course of intention... it was the cause and effect, the motion of it all had inflicted upon them both. As her fist had struck home, Ra’rhuk faced the blinding white light of impact causing him to be disorientated momentarily. As Sandria just as swiftly withdrew her arm from the impact, the outside of her forearm scraped along the inside Ra’rhuk’s broken tusk causing a deep gouge in her arm flesh. She had gasped out in pain, and in fear as her blood began to spill, clutching to the wound in a panic. Ra’rhuk, abruptly stood up, blinking twice as the scent of spilled blood filled his senses. He could have prevented the strike hitting home, he could have prevented the withdrawal that caused the wound by simply grabbing her wrist, or telling her to stop, yet he had not done any of those things. That he had not done anything in means of prevention had him confused, and backing away from her, more though he was savoring the scents that filled the air that tickled upon those malicious urges. She must of seen the glint to his half mast held eyelids as he took a deep inhale while looming above her like an ominous shadow silhouetted by firelight. Sandria began to scream once more.
His ears pinned, his gaze focused tight down upon her, a smile edged on threat to creep upon his features. Yet he stood there motionless, tempted to move, but had not, as she had ran away. She tripped over the robe, stumbling a few times down the temple steps, and out into the snow covered world beyond. He was still staring at the corner where she had been in for a long moment before he turned in a slow delayed like motion tracing the direction she had ran off towards. Minutes had passed with him staring off in that direction as she disappeared from all sight, until a voice broke the silence.
~ What are you waiting for?! Quit standing around and go after her! She’s going to freeze to death! ~ Zor’din manifested not as full body apparition, but only as a floating disembodied skull besides his brother.
“ I should not follow her... “ Ra’rhuk stated blandly.
~ What do you mean you shouldn’t follow her?! She’s almost naked, and bald! Bald, Ra’rhuk! Bald because you just had to shave her damn head! She only ran because you didn’t have the sense to listen to a thing I had to say! What was the first thing I said she needed? Food! If you would have cooked her something to eat, she wouldn’t have ran off like she had, she would have had a reason to stick around. ~ Zor’din goaded trying to get his brother to follow the female.
“ You are right... I should follow after. “ Ra’rhuk respond hollowly, as he began to move down the steps. He held steady stalking mannerism to his gait as he followed the direction she had ran. It was an easy hunt, there were no other foot prints but his own and now hers. She would be easy to spot as well in the open with his vision, even if his sight was struck from him he could follow her scent. He followed her wading trail through the snow, in that direction. Along the way were a few light blood splatters on the surface of the snow beside her labored route.
There he went... that was almost too easy to convince him to move, Zor’din had believed. He was almost smug with his small victory, until it struck him when he observed how his brother was moving, and how tight Ra’rhuk’s focus was. ~ Wait! I know that look! I was wrong, go back to the temple now! This can wait... Ra’rhuk, brother... Just listen to me, go back.~
Ra’rhuk did not answer Zor’din as he was swiftly catching up, heading east past the shrine Zim’rhuk. She may have entered wooded enclave of the shrine but the disturbances in the snow said she did not rest for long. She had moved onward towards Heb’Drakkar, he prowled his way in that direction with the prowess and the grace of the hunt in every step.
~ Dumbass! I told you to feed when you went out for provisions. ~ Zor’din was trying everything to get his brother’s attention on him to snap Ra’rhuk out of it, and it just wasn’t working.
---------------
Heb’Drakkar was once ruled over by Heb’jin, a commander and minor chief over the aerial assault unit made up of Drakkari bat riders. Ra’rhuk did not know the male personally, only for his deeds done under his command, and in some battles he had witnessed what his scores of bat riders contributed against the invading nerubians. Ra’rhuk had once been invited after a victorious battle  to dine and partake in festivities the Jin gave in celebration, due to Ra’rhuk’s minor role in the accomplishment of the win. He had seen the male from afar, and aspired to accomplish such an esteemed held rank, respect, and riches in his future. Ra’rhuk had no idea that Heb’jin was taken down by the invading foreign forces of the Horde, and Alliance a like. The ways and means of the end of the minor Jin might always be unknown to Ra’rhuk. Ra’rhuk did know what was seen here in Heb’Drakkar now, the only indication of what was, was of what remained of the Jin’s former glory. In the ruins, the standing bat totems still stood in silent sentinel for their worshiper’s return, and vague whispers lingered in spiritual residue reflections of his once mighty bat riders. Ra’rhuk knew the female that he hunted took refuge in the temple at the center.
All the riches of the temple had been plundered, it was cold and empty inside. He could hear her frantic breathing, her heart beat flittering rapidly as if some small wild bird trapped in cage threw itself at the bars in a means to escape. Why she would hide here? He may never know... He did not recall if she worshiped the bat loa in life, but he did not believe she had. It would have been the wiser choice to keep moving, yet she had sought refuge here. His footsteps were quiet as he turned the corner finding her once more in a corner pinning herself against the wall. As he drew nearer it did not register to him that her babbling had taken on zandali words while she shook her head from side to side
“ No, no! “ She had cried facing a monstrosity of truth.
Ra’rhuk did not stop in his stride, he drew in ever so close so she wouldn’t be able to get around his frame in an escape attempt. Ra’rhuk stared steadily at her in silence. His hand moving downward he had gripped her chin to still it’s shaking from side to side motion forcing Sandria to look at him. His other hand did not draw blade as he moved, rather he gripped her wrist and held it high, up nearer towards the side of his face with the broken tusk. It did not matter that she struggled he enjoyed it, he held firm against her free arm that struck at him. The urge was there to rend shoulder out from the socket to cause more blood to spill freely to feed upon.  His gaze never wavered from her face, enjoying the expression of fear he wrought forth, the terror, craving to cause more. Her eyes lock on his, with all that emotion he would steal and consume from her. Her sounds and struggles fell quiet, as if the world was holding it’s breath before a catastrophic event. It was that intimate resignation, that all held in their final moments he was basking in.
~ Brother... Don’t do this.... Please.. This is no way to find out anything. Just stop... ~  The spirit skull image of Zor’din pleaded.
Ra’rhuk seemed not to hear the spirit’s pleas as he drew his grey colored tongue slowly in an upward stroke along to wound. He was savoring the taste of the free flowing life essence before it had a chance to slow in it’s course. He continued to stare soundly at Sandria’s reaction over the liberty he had taken. He could feel the reaction of her skin to the pressure of the drawn out motion, the goose bumps that rose with the trembling of her frame, the jagged edge of the cut to softer bows of the open wound. He would have continued to torment until he either succumbed to urges to kill her, or she slipped away from that fear so far she would be no more use to him. Yet that was not to be, with all of Zor’din’s pleading and mentions of rational thought in the background that he was continuing to ignore. It was in that moment that she found a voice within that nightmarish fear that shattered his instincts hold. One word was all it took, that one look of recognition, and the switch had been flipped.
“ Ra’rhuk. “ Upon that whimpered recognition of what hands of death was befalling her. Sandria’s eyes rolled up into the back of her head, there was no struggle in left in her frame as it gave out under his hold.
He would have thrown her from him, but he had seen it, that last brief flicker in the light of her eyes that knew him, that he knew too in the same reflection before they had rolled back. She was insane.... it would have been a mercy killing, he attempted to justify to himself. Yet she had to say his name, and had ruined what grips had held him. He had turned around, not even registering the fact he still held her in his hold at first, dragging her limp frame in that turn as he stared out of the stone entrance way. What had he been doing? He blinked once, before he rose her body up to drape her across his shoulders and over his neck like a scarf and had immediately exited the building. He began walking at a brisk pace in the direction of the priestess Shayna’s hut.
~ You did good, brother. You stopped yourself... Not that you are listening to me.... You’re going the right way. Go to the priestess, she’ll know what to do. ~ Zor’din voiced to reassure as he floated along.  
Ra’rhuk said nothing as he walked on in silence, however his was thinking loudly enough to block any outside influences. His tread was determined, and hurried as if time was slipping away with each step. How could he gain any trust with her after what he had done? The living were not his play things, insane, or not, she should have been treated with more respect then he had given. To play with her like that had been wrong, if had planned on killing her in which he had, he could have drawn his weapon and made it swift. Why had he craved so deeply to draw it out as he had? He knew the answer to that in part, it was the second half of the question was what had weighed heavily on him.
As he came to the entrance of the priestess’s home, he held little regard of the time, or if she was even home. He used his foot to kick in the door, and walked inside as if he had full authority to do so. He ducked through the beaded curtains at the entrance and walked directly to Shayna’s guest receiving chamber. He cared not if she was entertaining guests, or if she was alone, he had his agenda to fulfill.  Ra’rhuk dumped the limp frail female troll he had carried a great distance onto the cushioned pillows that lined the floor with a dip of his frame. Standing upright, after making certain Sandria was laid in what appeared to be a comfortable position he scanned the area with his gaze to locate the priestess. She was standing in the area of the kitchen, he announced his presence and the reason for the disturbance.
“ My apologies for intruding on you like this.... This female, is wounded, she needs rest, nutrients, and healing. Her name is Sandria. Take precaution and guard, as she may be crazed in the mind and cannot be held accountable for any... violent actions. “ Ra’rhuk bowed his head with a downward dip of his chin as if this had not been a home invasion with his presence. “ I must... depart. I will return. “ He did not stay any longer, he did not wait for a response, he left to tend to those urges that needed to be curbed before he kept the company of any living individual.
As soon as Ra’rhuk exited Zor’din was right back at his brother’s side. ~ You didn’t even stick around for a cup of coffee.... or explain a damn thing. Good thing the priestess is the tolerant type, or you would have been punched twice in one day....You really must be bothered by all this. ~
As Ra’rhuk traveled towards his hunting grounds, he had waved his hand as if shooing off some nuisance, which his brother was. “ What has been done, is done. I’m going to alleviate what causes me to be a danger around the living, before I return to their company to rectify the wrongs I have committed. That is all. “  
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rarhuk · 7 years
Text
Revelations ( part two )
(( Short story ))
The storm had waned in strength... Ra’rhuk had returned to the temple, sated, and with provisions, to be once more in the company of his brother’s spirit Zordin, and the unconscious guest Sandria. No answers had been found in his brief absence, his desire was that upon his return that more would be revealed.
What he found instead, was that he was in a position he had no desire to be in. He voiced his reluctance as he began to remove his armor slowly. “ I do not want to do this.”
Zor’din let out an exasperated sigh, not really because he was spirit and did not need to breathe, but had produced a sound like a sigh for theatrics sake.  ~ Putting on normal clothes to bathe someone, is practical. It’ll keep your armor clean and clear of body insects, hair and the filth, and it will be more comfortable our guest. I don’t understand what the big deal is.~
Ra’rhuk grunted his response as he set his cloak aside after he had removed his gloves. “ As you have said... insects. I will have to burn my clothes when I am finished. “
Zordin’s spectral arm pointed to the sleeping female. ~ Do you really want to wait until she is up and able to wash herself, or deliver her in this condition to Shaaayna? ~ Of course he sing songed the priestess’s name in his question to tease Ra’rhuk, even if he would not get a response to it. He also knew Ra’rhuk had an aversion with thoughts of small insects invading his unliving body like a plague of decay. He found it hilarious personally, for a death knight he was squeamish about catching a bad case of the rot, it really spoke of the depth of his brother’s vanity in life, as well as in undeath, even though Zor’din could never get Ra’rhuk admit to it. He had seen Ra’rhuk fell giant nerubians without such reluctance or hesitation, yet minuscule insects could halt his brother’s progression on a simple task.
“ I would rather do just that... “ He stated flatly while removing his pauldrons and setting them aside with thought.
~ Rude... Have some consideration for the living. Besides the quicker you clean her up, the less time you have to worry about being infested by a swarm of lice.~ Zor’din grinned lowering his pointing finger, while his brother was removing his gear to change so at least there was that progress.
Ra’rhuk had been quiet as he unclasped the locking hinges of his chest piece, as he set heavy plate aside on the shelf he had voiced. “ You are one to speak of having consideration. I had thought you had found peace with our ancestors, yet here you are once more. “ Bending he removed his shin guards before rising once more to set them on the shelf besides the rest of his armor in a particular order of what he would later don it in.   “ I did not say I would not do it. I said I did not want to do it. There is a difference. I am aware there is a necessity....  I am not concerned about being infested. ” 
~ You’re mad at me...~ Zor’din seemed to gruff out as Ra’rhuk was in the motion of redressing into simpler more comfortable garb.
“ Disappointed...  I had hoped-- “ As Ra’rhuk finished sliding the vest on he had waved his hand once in dismissal of his thoughts. “ It matters not what my thoughts were, as here we are talking to each other once more. “
~ Ra’rhuk, I’m touched... ~ Zor’din placed his corporeal hand to his chest where his heart would have resided if he had been still living.  ~ I’ve missed you too. ~
Ra’rhuk rolled his eyes, letting out an intentional breath in a manner of a drawn out sigh. What his intention and point were, was not as Zor’din had mistakenly thought they were. However, knowing his brother as he did, he was almost certain that Zor’din knew that, and instead of playing to the bait he ignored misunderstanding. “ I will have to shave her head from the appearance of her hair. “ He noted as he turned his focus on the task at hand.
~ Ah, that... ~ The spirit lowered his hand after a quick sweep under his eye as if wiping away a tear with a single digit. He had turned his image about and seemed to look at the slumbering female. ~ I know this is going to be difficult for you brother. I would take this burden from you if I could, but, alas, I cannot. It is something you will have to do on your own. ~
Ra’rhuk moved to his gear bag removing a dagger, a bone toothed comb, a woven blanket, and round chunk of soap. “ Understood. “ He stated flatly as he made his approach to sit with knees facing outward, at the sleeping female’s head. He draped the blanket quietly over his lap. As he settled with the dagger he had pulled the bowl of warm water containing within it the cloth, over closer to him with a small reach. After placing the soap near to the bowl, he did not proceed further, seeming to have a moment of pause in reflection as he was looking over Sandria’s features.
~ What is it?~ Zor’din just seemed to remain standing in the background flickering in solidarity even now again, the visual didn’t need to be remained seen as his brother rarely acknowledge him unless it was needed.
“ What if I disturb her?“  Ra’rhuk asked simply.
~ Well that depends on what you mean there, bear. Of course you’re going to disturb her in one way, or another. You just have to take the reactions as they come. She is ill, fevered, perhaps, even crazed in her mind. She may be in and out of this healing sleep for hours, or wake briefly, or even suddenly. My only suggestion is to keep the sharp objects away from her grasp. Like that knife.~ Zor’din made a motion to the dagger at Ra’rhuk’s side.
Ra’rhuk was in the motion of pulling Sandria’s head as gently as he was capable of into his blanket covered lap, she did not seem to wake with the action. At his brother’s mention of the knife and the motion his brother had made in the direction of it. Ra’rhuk was on the move, almost as if in reflex grasping it back up into his hand. He shook his head, as he placed the dagger far enough behind him that it was out reach. “ That was not what I meant. “ He began to comb her hair slowly with his fingers, to see how much could be saved before cutting away what could not. Her hair was full of crust, dirt, debris of twigs, it was matted tight in areas. He recalled her hair was yellow from his living eyes, now it was pale grey, ridden with grime.
~ Enlighten me, to what you meant ?~ Zor’din asked observing Ra’rhuk’s actions.
She had prided over her hair, no matter what the style she wore it in over the years, she had valued it, kept it groomed. Not as he was seeing and feeling with his exploring touches, this was as if years worth of dirt and grime that had accumulated into a mass of disrepair. Ra’rhuk had never returned with his response to his brother as he was focused on his investigation. He was attempting to part a knotted mass of hair that seem stubborn and unwilling to yield any give to him, when he noticed the scarring on her scalp. There was a deep crevice that wound like a horse shoe from her forehead to the back of her head as if some great raptor claw struck down creating a valley in her skull, the skin was healed in that divot. It was the valley of the scar that held the thickest matting, as if there was no comb teeth that could reach in that curvature of depth. He was studying the scar line by tracing it with his finger along the bramble of hair. There were skin scales, there were lice, but it did not seem to perturb him as he traced that curving line of scar tissue back and forth slowly. What had happen to her?
He picked up the dagger having gave up on trying to save anymore with his finger tips. Zor’din had became a quiet shade in the background was ignored for the time being as he began working to remove her hair, it became his focus and mission. Some of the matted and frayed tresses fell to the blanket as it was intended, some of it drifted into the air floating it’s way on little currents outside and elsewhere, some on the same currents caught in the fire had created small sparks and that distinct scent of burning hair. He was not damaging her pride by doing so, he reminded himself as he was removing the clumps of hair nearer the scalp, her pride was as faded as the condition she was in. He was stripping away what seemed like years of neglect and infestation, with each careful cut. Satisfied, he began to shave her head close as he could, dragging the blade in tentative lines until the skin was as smooth as the dagger blade could produce. He added water and soap when needed, wiping the blade clean when it was required, when it was filled with dirt, small insects, as lice, a few winter ticks, and dry flaking skin particles. She had many scars on her scalp but none was as predominant as that deep curve. It made it difficult to cut, and to shave, even as he finished the hair that sprouted out of that valley had to be kept longer then what remained on the rest of her head. He completed the task with a quiet grunt to himself as if satisfied with finished product. She had not stirred once,  she had not awakened as soon as Zor’din had earlier proclaimed she would. That she had not woke he had been pleased with, he set her head back down so he could arrange to clean the rest of her.
He had removed her clothing, and had set what few necklaces she had in the bowl of water to soak over night to suffocate any insects that may have clung to the item. He did not recognize her stiff dirt covered clothing, nor her jewelry. Her body had changed from his memory recall as well. Scars riddled her frame, in his mind these scars had no place to be on her body as he had no recall of any of them. She had wounds that were angrily infected and puss filled. Loose skin of what once held fullness of nourishment, now hung from her bones, even as dead as he was he was aware she needed fuel to combat the ailments. Troll blood line regeneration could only do so much before it faltered. Each individual was unique when it came to regeneration strength. Where as some could restore limbs as if nothing had ever been taken, no indication of a scar, or wound had ever been, others did not hold such abilities. It greatly depended on the wound dealt and the individual’s ability to repair. Sandria did not seem to hold such strength to heal minor infractions to her physical well being, or it had been her strength that was put to a test of endurance for far too long and it had waned to the point it could not fight any longer. As he had cleaned his sharp glowing gaze had focused on the greater festering wounds. He could not mend the living as those with the capabilities to heal with magic of light, or nature, could. He could tend to wounds with basic field triage, beyond that he lacked. He had done his best by her physical condition within the means he held. He had cleaned, rinsed, dried and oiled her entire body with a meticulous precision that nothing went overlooked. He had tended to her wounds, placed an insect killer and repellent powder on her to prevent a re-infestation. He clothed her in simple robe he had purchased at the provision outpost, it was fairly too large on her.
Ra’rhuk did not put her back on the bed roll when he had finished tending to her. He set her far away from the area that she and he had once occupied placing her far from the heat of the fire for the time being. He placed all her old clothes, all his clothes, the bed roll of furs, the blanket he had used as covering and bundled it up in one large heap. Naked he carried them to the fire and dumped the burden to burn. He watched it burn for some time before he cleaned the immediate area further and moving to tend to cleansing himself. Ra’rhuk was thorough about it, using soap, oils, as well as the repellent on himself, soon to return to dress once more in his armor. He had more bedding of furs for her to use and had done so bringing her gently back to the fire. Throughout the whole ordeal, she had not stirred more then a random whimper, groan, or whine. It seemed only to rise up from her when he bandaged wrapped the gouge of a leg wound, and one just under her ribs. As disappointing as it had been he could not remove the darker shades of bruises, at first he had thought it dirt, only to discover the deep bruising would not come clean.  He may not have been as gentle as he would have been when he was alive, but the task was done and she now could sleep undisturbed by any discomfort his touch had brought.
He sat at her head staring at the fire once more, his finger played with the jewelry in the water, clinking it softly against the inner round wooden sides of the bowl. “ To clarify... She may have been on a path the loa set for her, my arrival may disrupted that course of what they had meant for her. “ 
~ You’re over thinking, and speculating too much. ~ Zor’din replied as if there hadn’t been an hour or so of silence between them. ~ Think of this way... She might have really been on a path the loa had sent her on, maybe it was to die at the base of that tree, or maybe, just maybe she was sent there for you to find her. There is obviously some reason she is here at the same time you are, perhaps some unfinished business, perhaps it is only for closure, for you, for her. You are not meant to know the reasons, you are to do as you are doing, nothing more, nothing less.~ Zor’din smirked in his pause as he realized something as he had rambled onward with all that insight. ~ You’re very angry right now aren’t you? ~
Ra’rhuk paused in his fingertip’s rotation within the water, just keeping his eyes to the fire. “ Yes... “
~ Ever thought about the ‘ why ‘ you are so angry, bit? Take a second look at that anger, it’s leading you to... as much as I regret saying this; other squishy feelings, brother. This really is something you need to come to terms with. ~ Zor’din made a snort sound, although not gaining his brother’s attention away from the fire the lack of reaction caused him to draw closer into Ra’rhuk’s visual range, by standing in the fire himself in direct view. ~ I’m going to brutally honest with you, Rock. ~ He was even using the nickname Ra’rhuk’s living friends had given his brother to further draw his attention. ~ When you look for answers, you’re not always going to like what they are. They are ugly to look at, they come with scars, and hurt like hell. ~ He held up a single spectral finger out from the flames close to his brother’s nose as if he was going to give the tip a boop. ~ The reason for that, the truth is supposed to leave you raw, it’s suppose to make you feel... You do, brother. I’ve seen how you are with the living, those you surround yourself around. You are much closer to how they feel, no matter if you want to face it or not. ~
Ra’rhuk’s ears pinned, he growled lowly at the translucent finger close to his nose. “ Back off!  I do not need your lectures about truths and feelings, it does her no justice in the condition she is in.”
Zor’din walked through Ra’rhuk, to stand above Sandria looking down at her, he knew his brother was deflecting. ~ Who? Her? She’ll be fine. No, matter what the outcome. You’re the one angry right now without reason, not her, she sleeps, and keep it down you might wake her. ~ He raised his hand upward as if he was surrendering to some god on high before lowering them to his ethereal sides. ~ Your actions speak louder, then your anger. You very well could have left her out there... but you’ve brought her back here, you’ve shown compassion, even remorse, even anger for her condition. These are things you claim you are disconnected from, yet here you sit with your finger in a bowl churning away as if you can’t comprehend it at all. ~
Ra’rhuk blinked twice, debating what was worse the earlier melancholy melody he could not shake from replaying over and over in his head, or that of his brother’s incessant lecturing. “ You are not all knowing of me, as you pretend to be... “ He stood swiftly and turned to face his brother directly. “ You’re flinging assumptions, accusations, of what it is like, as if you know. You’re nothing but a remanent tied to your mortal coil of emotion, yet you speak as if you know all. I am not angry because of compassion, or her discord in her life that caused her to arrive here as this... It is that she exists at all, this inconvenience to my---“  He was suddenly interrupted by his brother’s volume in voice, it shattered his thoughts abruptly.
~ Ra’rhuk! Stop! She wakes! ~ The female stirred with a sounding groan, Zor’din was not certain if he would be seen, or heard, or not by her. He made a hasty exit dissolving from view as to not cause another escalation of the situation.
Ra’rhuk’s eyes cast downward only to see Sandria’s unfocused gaze rise up to meet his. Her countenance began to contort into hard lines, and her scent rose in fear. Ra’rhuk spoke to reassure he meant no harm but what words he had given were muted into silence by her deranged sounding screams.
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rarhuk · 7 years
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Revelations ( part one )
(( Short story ))
Cold and dark was the night, a storm brewed over head… Ra’rhuk had waited out the hours by writing in his journal, and watching the blizzard roll in. He did not take to his patrol of Zul’drak that evening as he lacked a desire to. It was not until the storm had passed in the morning hours of the next day that he had taken to actually perform his elected duty.
Hours had passed undisturbed while he walked his lonely road, nothing of note other then a few animal tracks in the fresh white washed covering of snow. He merely walked, observed, listened to the silence while his mind traveled in the same repetitive loop as it had of late. He had tried to escape the melody that had returned by focusing on the environment. He had elected out of his own to stay here, he believed he wanted to stay in his homeland, just as he believed this was where his answers would be found. Through the prophet he had made contact with his loa, received a blessing, gained insight to what was required of him. It was deathly quite this morning, as if the world was holding it’s breath before a catastrophic event.
He had only seen one snow hare all day. It was getting late, he decided he would return to the temple to continue writing in his journal. A short time after looping back a small branch snap of a sound had gained his attention enough to cause him to pause in his almost silent tread. It was a sound he easily would have dismissed, yet the inactivity this day had been so profound he changed course to investigate. It was probably nothing more then a tree branch breaking due to the heavy snow fall and nothing more he had thought while he moved like a ghost in a fog towards the source. It was then he paused in his gait yet again, his tattered ear twitching as it picked up the faintest of sounds. A weakened heart beat within it’s confines, a shallow breath.
The figure under the shroud of a great evergreens bowing heavy bristling limbs, laid motionless on their side in a dusting of snow.  His leaning forward frame righted itself, as he internally debated if he should end the life, or let it ebb away in the cold. This was not a beast by visual inspection, he instantly had known it was a female troll by sight and scent. Too many times, he had come across his people that remained in the region, they were always tainted by madness. It would be a swift mercy killing. After a long silent debate he decided to make certain that it was not some unfortunate traveler that had became lost in the storm. He highly doubted that she was a unfortunate traveler sent to these forgotten lands just by her condition, garb that was exposed, and scent. He had been proven wrong before, so he elected to leave no room for question by giving the individual the benefit of the doubt before he acted. He placed his hand on the female’s one exposed shoulder to turn her to face his direction, he would know upon a full visual.
His hand as if under it’s own volition slipped away when he was faced with the unconscious countenance of the filthy female. He took two abrupt steps backward, blinking twice as he was stuck still with complete confusion. The matted tight to the scalp hair looked grey as did her entire being, but there was recognition... this was someone he recognized, she was different, yet the same. He stood utterly still as if his mind was frozen in mid process of what he was seeing, it wasn’t registering who this person was to him at all. As he stood there in lock down, he hadn’t reacted to the signs that the female was awakening, the heart beat and breath quickening, or small movements of the body. Even when her eyes opened, he simply stared. While her features contorted into hard fear ridden lines he continued to stare unblinkingly, who was this?!
It was the sound that came out as a rasp whimper rather then the desired scream, that had him snap out of the enthrallment. “ You are suffering from being exposed too long to the elements. I’m not here to harm you, I’m here to aid you. “ He said in zandali with his typical monotone echoing voice. With that, and very little struggle on the almost unconscious female’s part he had hoisted her up to his shoulder to carry her off by. 
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He had returned to the temple with found guest. The braziers had been lit, the female had been covered with warm furs. Ra’rhuk had allowed her to regain her strength in slumber before taking any more action with her. He had refrained from questioning as she was not in mind to answer, keeping his own disturbance to himself as he paced upon the stone floor. He was going through recalled faces of his youth attempting to do age progression in his mind. This was not the instant recognition he had when he had found his brother Kor’akk on the battle field. This female was someone he knew but could not place, he had believed before this moment his memory recall was flawless, now there was doubt. Through the night he had paced out the hours in his own thought, it was small sound she produced when she had rolled over that caused him to say a name as if his tongue had it’s own will power. “ Sandria.”
How could he not have recognized her?! As the realization of who this was struck him, he moved quickly to retrieve a basin, water, and cloth to wash her face with, to prove to himself without a shadow of a doubt who she was in name. He did not hold patience as he warmed the bowl and cloth by the fire, as if with angst of doubt, or possible denial, as if her face had to be clear of dirt to see the facts before him. His hold to her was tentative as he held anyone in an injured condition, yet all the same the grip was direct with intended purpose. He cleaned away the dirt from her brow, and dirt covered cheeks with gentle swipes. Age, and a hard life had stripped her once youthful beauty from her visage, but there were still those indications he recalled. Still he knew this was her, the memory of her young face that not too long ago gave him small comfort within a cave in a jungle a world away from here. He stared in silence for a long time as the last bit of dirt was cleared away. It was almost a reflex now to drop his frost presence around the living, although he would not be warmed until he fed, he would not be as icy cold. She was not as he remembered. Ra’rhuk had to remind himself there was a life time between them, what he saw now before had not always been as the present indicated. He did not draw her in close to give comfort, but he did not depart either as he laid her back down undisturbed to the fur covered mat.
If she was one of the crazed he would give her peace, If she had her mental faculties when she regained her strength enough to travel he would either deliver her to Shayna, or allow her to go on her way he had decided while she slept. At the moment her stability and the weather was preventing his direct departure to the priestess’s home. He was having difficulties processing still as to why he did not recognize her immediately, he should have known by sight, and scent. He did recognize her now, and that opened many more questions that he asked in silence while she slept.
A whole day passed, into a second day, Ra’rhuk did not do his patrols he merely kept watch over Sandria. There were times he was uncertain she would wake, as beyond keeping her warm with furs and fire heat. There was nothing else he could think that he could provide in aid her in regaining her strength. He thought of their past together in those longer seeming hours.
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Sandria was not a female he had loved with the depth that he had loved his Hisani. She had provided him comforts, and he in return provided for her needs, it was something arranged with mutual respect. She had no family remaining, no dowry, no rank, he provided protection, and a home to stay warm in exchange for her comforts. He had returned home from battle to a clean home, warm food, attendance to his wounds, and all his needs fulfilled. She in turn was granted an allowance of gold to provide for her needs, and a roof over her head. He had a few arrangements such as this, this one between himself and Sandria had lasted two years, one of the longest held. She did not complain, she spoke her mind, she was bold and direct, he had enjoyed her company when in it. She had always eased his mind when the need arose, and if she had issues with how things were handled in his absence she had authority granted to change it, and if she was unable to handle it upon his return he made ensured the adjustments were made to her standards.
It was a simple relationship, it saved her from working the fields or becoming a mate to a male not of her choosing. He was aware of her desire to become his mate, yet his heart had been fixated upon another to claim as his first. She did not pursue it, nor did she argue with him over it. She seemed as content in the position she had held with him, as he was with her. Ra’rhuk had been selfish in that regard when it came to emotional bonds, and perhaps had unknowingly mistreated Sandria’s value and worth to him in the process. It was unintentional of course, his mind had been more preoccupied on the battle field, the state his own gains, and how his home was ran then the emotional well being of the female. He could not see her for who she was, beyond the luxuries she gave to him, his ambitions were too strong and she had no name or place that would further advance him. Perhaps, there were small indications that she wanted more from him then he was able to give, but it was never clarified in voiced expression. it was a good distraction to come home to her comforts rather then an empty hut. It had seemed seamless and without complications. It was the way he liked it, he left home with less concerns then he had arrived with.
Ra’rhuk had never returned home after that last march.... All this time he had not thought about the fate of those that worked for him. It was as if he had dismissed their existence as one of obliteration, he had died, therefore they were no more. He could not comprehend how she was here... She should be dead by all accounts, not many had escaped Drak’Tharon keep, nor traveled with the Zandalari southward, those that remained behind that he had encountered alive were insane. These facts had caused him to wonder about her plight as Sandria slumbered. Had she waited all these years out of devotion, surviving on the meager offerings of what remained provided? Was she one of those that returned, in hopes that there was something to be done to resurrect Zul’drak to her former glory? Or was she like him.... seeking out the gods? Many thoughts invaded his mind as to how she appeared from the snow.  
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Ra’rhuk rubbed to his either side of his temples with his index fingers, his eyes on the pale brazier fires that flickered and danced like the lapping of a serpents tongue. He knew she could not remain here, he could not provide for a living being, as it was he was struggling with what care she was needing in the present. With a fresh blizzard howling outside, he could not move her or he would have already done it. He should not have brought her here, he should have directly went to the priestess Shayna’s, but he had not thought about it only reacted as to what seemed best at the time. He attempted to think of what she would need until that departure when a voice interrupted his thought process.
~ Food, water, clothes, and a bath...~ Zor’din voiced from behind his brother.
Ra’rhuk turned his head quickly causing those segments and tendons within his neck to pop and crack. “ Where the fuck ‘ave you been?” Ra’rhuk stared the spirit form down.
~ Shhhh.... You’re going to disturb her. I’ve been... around. You just needed some time to yourself. Now you need my help, so here I am. ~ His image stretched a smirk of a smile, he gave a small bow of his frame. ~ Good to see you Zordin.. How’ve you been? That’s how normal people act when seeing someone they haven’t in a long time. Your tone, sounds like you were accusing me of avoiding you or something, very rude, even for you. ~
Ra’rhuk found himself standing up and turning to face his brother, his eyes wandering as if sizing the spectral image up. “ Hmmm....” 
~ I really wasn’t expecting a warm welcome... You’re going to need fresh water, food, and other provisions if you are planning on keeping her, I was serious about that. ~ Zor’din moved closer to his brother seemingly stepping around the sleeping female. ~ And you’re going to need to feed too if you plan on keeping that presence, we can’t have you munching on the person you are trying to help.~ He snickered and as if he was actually making contact he seemed to shove his palms against Ra’rhuk’s chest plate. Not surprisingly his brother made no indication of touch, nor did his spiritual hands actually have any pressure to them at all. ~ Chop, chop, time’s a wasting. She’s going to wake up soon... I’ll keep watch over her while you’re out. ~
Ra’rhuk was silently just staring at the shade of his brother, unmoving, as if considering a great number of things. “ Very well, I’ll go, if she is sound of mind upon awakening I will take her to the priestess. “ He turned on his heel and walked out without another word.
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rarhuk · 7 years
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Drifting thoughts
In my isolated solitude I have found the most silent of moments can become deafening loud. There are no distractions that the living once provided with their conversations, and their quick motions and movements within their daily lives. I am here left with my own thoughts, and constant companion of drifting snow.
In Drakkari Zandali there is over twenty words for snow. I say Drakkari Zandali, to distinguish and to differentiate the difference, as many sand and jungle dialects have no need to have the addition beyond one word for the weather condition beyond the simple definition of cold, and,or white. Although the basic Zandali is almost universal amongst troll kind, there are minor variations from region to region in which is quite understandable as isolated from each other as we are. I am certain in life I did not use more then one, or two words in Zandali to describe dirt, as one of the sand regions would use many more words that I would not. This is my point, while in the company of the living I did not mull over these small irrelevant idiosyncrasies for hours on end each time a weather pattern was observed. While as a guide in the Tanaan jungle if it rained I did not think of what words I could describe the fel laden droplets that fell from the sky, I was occupied with protecting my charge. My thoughts were not my own focus, I could focus on what was required of me, the task at hand, or the well being of the living companion at my side.
Snow... It is snowing now. The dry air light specks drifting downward from mountain effect breezes, it rolls off the storm peaks in fog like mist clouds in the earlier morning. The chill to the air is like a dragons breath etching patterns of frost against window sills. The snow clings to the stone walls, the flora branches brittle and crisp as if boney fingers are rising up from the earth. It would be relatively easy to walk on the surface of the snow without any hindrance this morning, as I am impervious to it regardless. Yet I do not feel there is a requirement to patrol this day. I lack a... desire to do my rounds.
I am stagnating. My thoughts and memories of my past life swirl before me as constant reminder within the stirring flakes. These thoughts have no business in my mind at all and, yet they are my predominant fixation while I walk the altar’s steps, down the abandoned inlaid roads. Reflections of those fallen, and those that remain, amongst the living like shrouds of comparison. Each new face I find a familiarity, and a similarity of those that are long past. I ponder if this is the reason I find any compatriots or those called friend at all. It is as if it is some theater troupe, where the actors change, but the roles and parts played remain the same repeating the same acts over and over.
I am aware although it may seem out of reach for me to comprehend the reason, or purpose, or even the outcome of this course, that my purpose will be found where it had began. This is where I belong, the loa spoke it so to the prophet. Yet I cannot resist the desire to question, to question what is not known of my fate. I have the patience to wait for all to be revealed, it is the snow that is distracting me from my duty.
The memories first rose in Drak’mabwa, a bird had flown from the crumbling aqueduct, with a sound that caused me to think of my mother. I did not see the gaping crater of  a pool caused from Rhunok’s demise I saw before me what had been. A small animal sound, had triggered a memory that was not wanted, that was not welcomed, yet it continued to loop it’s way through my mind until like a ensnaring lasso it was my only thought. Images of my mother at the cauldron, or at the river washing clothes, or in the fields of Drak’sotra harvesting, until all I could hear was her song, her song from my earliest memory recall soothing back the wind that threatened in the deepest dark of night. Words of comfort, words of compassion, while in life they had earned their goal of putting me to slumber, here in now they were nothing, a cold bitter annoyance that would not stop. That peaceful, tranquil melody of better things to come could not reach me. It was not her spirit, as she died in lands far away from here, it was only my mind replaying it over and over. I am capable of avoiding foes, yet my own mind I was not. It continued until the night that replaying of a song until I was granted silence. The purpose and point of that trek my mind had taken still eludes me, and is irritating to think about, it is best not to, lest it returns. It was not the only occurrence of intrusive thoughts.
I have heard and seen images from my past quite often while I reside here, from youth to my days as a soldier. I have heard and seen my brothers and sisters as children playing in areas that are now ruins. These figments, these children, most survived into adulthood, I am certain they are not spirits. It concerns me to what ends and reasons my mind would cause these memory visions to arise. Is it as my mother had sang a wistful longing for better days to come? Those better days that did not, and will not ever come to pass.
In what remains of the great hall, I heard my once comrades dining and drinking with laughter and merriment, I have heard them in the training grounds in practice, I have heard the amphitheater’s crowds roaring. Yet at the same time it is silent, without a single breath stirring within or without, it is merely snowing in silence. The question remains, if it is not an outside source, which I know it is not, why am I insistent on tormenting myself with this? I cannot undo what has been done, has been completed and finished, I cannot go back and change anything from my past... and yet it hangs here before me as solid as that white blanket that covers Zul’drak. 
It was in the quiet of night when I first felt the pain... I have not felt pain as this since my blood was warm and there was a need to take breath. It cannot be described as physical pain, I merely struggle to define this particular pain as it was a complex sensation. The closest experience I can compare it to is when I had returned from battle to find Hissani, my priestess had been killed, that our entire world as we had known it had fallen to betrayal and desperation. There was no refuge, no awaiting comforting arms, or song that could be sung. The war drums had fallen silent, yet those hearts that still beat in our chests roared out in anguish, for what had been lost to us. We stood alone, isolated in our individual pain, and yet it was a shared pain. It is the closest thing I can compare it to... I believe I may have found the regret I have long searched for.
It was not my losses, or those closest to me that had fallen that had caused this pain that burned through me like a searing blade. It was the lack of control any of us had over our fates, it was the injustice I personally was dealt, and that I too had done to others. I was but a pawn all my life, my undeath, with the misconception that I had a significance as high as a king would. That is my regret, as nothing was as glorious as I believed it had been. These things I prided over, these desires and ambitions served me as little then, as it serves me now. It was all pointless. What seems significant to replay over and over in my mind, it is just a reminder of what cannot ever be, or be had in my grasps again. These faces of the now that remind me of brothers, sisters and friends of the past, will one day pass onward as well in the pages of history, growing old and fading until I am just left with images of what once was. They all may grow old, perish by different means, but I will be left with the images of their swift and vibrant lives. It is what they fear when they first look at me, it is not the death I could cause, but what I steal from them indiscriminately by my mere presence. That which will forever be denied to me... the opportunity, the ability to live a full and complete life.
I regret my ignorance... I regret my inability to change who and what I am. These pale reflections of the past I have placed upon others that I could feel for a moment the warmth of a blanket of familiarity, and connection towards what I crave to feel. That complexity of emotion that comes with the fulfillment of simply living, that I long to feel. Just as this wind swept landscape is unforgiving, empty, and cold, I am detached from, it cannot and will never. It is a pain, a deep pain, I do not know how to mend except with more bloodshed and death. What place do I have in this world, if I cannot retain or gain a single warm comfort without a nagging aggravation over what I cannot have? It leads only to rage, over what will forever be denied to me.
I do not have the answers to my own questions, I have prayed for forgiveness for my past deeds, I have meditated for clarity of judgement. I await the prophet’s return to give me my loa’s words of possible redemption, until then I struggle with my own self revelations. I will continue to write out these discoveries, as they may aid me in processing.
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