Moving On

==Little Light==
The dark tendrils of sleep faded sluggishly as he opened his eyes. He scanned the room and groaned when he remembered where he was. The soft resin nestled in his cheek had burned a small hole there. He poked his tongue around and shifted it. The headache had already kicked in before he even tried to get up off the floor, but it was worth it. There had been no nightmares this time. All hell had broken loose on Azeroth and he hadn't seen Seraphiel since. He had heard him though. His voice echoing through his dreams at first urging him then commanding him to come.
And he had come, he searched for him in the ravaged lands and failed. He had failed, hadn't he? He never found Seraphiel, no. He returned to the Plaguelands every other day and came home broken hearted. He dreamed of buzzing and small creatures invading him. He dreamed of fiery white hair streaming in the night. His dreams invaded his waking hours. His days and nights blurred till he had not recognition or memory of them.
He dragged himself up and headed for the door. On the mat was a scroll and a purple scrygem. He'picked it up and read through the letter. An opportunity with no obligation. Rubbish, he wasn't that naive. He read it through again, trying to see what was hidden between the lines. The writing was childish and hurried. The ink was horribly smudged.. He held the communication gem between his fingers, twirling it absentmindedly.
The gem activated and came to life. He jumped as the young girl's voice echoed out from it.
"There you are!"
==The Eternal Doom==
Buzzing. The constant buzzing filled his head. He woke in a cold sweat and jumped off the sofa darting in to the small bedroom. The room was cold and the girl was gone. He padded back in to the main room and cursed as he stood on a thistle. He tugged it out of his foot, sniffed the small flower bud then shrugged and stuffed it in his mouth. He slowly relaxed as the old familiar tingle spread over his tongue.
He calmly assessed the state of the room. Acceptable. Sorienna has tidied before she left. There were just a few herbs and vials scattered from his not so busy day.
He moved through to the bathroom and peered at himself in the mirror. A worn old face stared back at him, he noted the grey strands showing through his dark hair. There was no joy in the face. He felt tired and old. The girls were the only reason he bothered to breath in and out. Nirenya was on extended secondment to Thunder Bluff, but Sorienna was a serious concern. She'd almost burned the apartment down twice now.
He flinched as the light flickered and plunged him in to darkness for a brief moment. He saw a face in the gloom, white blazing hair billowing out. The image was gone before the panic had a chance to grip him. Cold sweat trickled down his back and he stumbled back in to the main room.
Kelu... breath
His eyes roved the room searching for more of the herb he was chewing. He hated this small room, he hated this stifling city. He missed the open skies, he missed his Firefly.
A sharp knock on the door broke through is thoughts, when he opened the door a young boy dressed in Sin'dorei finery looked up at him. He sniffed at Njos and gave him a disgusted look.
"Kelu, you're wanted at the Spire." He turned away shaking his head.
He let Moro canter at her own pace. The wolf was sure footed and wisely chose her path through the devastated forest. She twitched and turned her ears as she pressed on sensing the ever present danger. She knew her master was not paying attention.
There was a small commotion at the pass over a young elf. The girl was there brazenly wearing D'Silva's daggers. He allowed himself the moment to recall the first time he met Sargaris. He confident stride, his commanding aura the hint of amusement in his demeanour. Let the girl have her trinkets. That life was gone.
He dropped in on Sorienna and left her a care package to get her by and got out of the way of their business. He wanted this job over. There was too much at stake going in to the Plaguelands. He headed out to deliver the letter.
Light's Hope. He didn't feel it. He felt anything but hope. Though he couldn't see it he felt The Ebon Hold looming over him. The tendrils of temptation snaked through his mind and the dark voice prickled in his memory.
"Njosssnavelin......" He flinched and raised his arm defensively as the knight slapped his reply note on the desk. That face, the hair, the fear. Cold sweat oozsed from every pore.
Kelu... breath
The knight laughed. "Steady on old chap," he mocked. Kelu snatched the letter up and stalked out of the office.
Moro waited by the steps of the chapel quietly whining. She sensed the uncertainty in her master as he approached and tucked the letter in to his satchel. She backed away with a low growl as he tried to mount her. He furrowed his brow and shifted his attention to the direction of the Hold. A hot gentle mouth carefully closed around his wrist and lightly tugged at his arm, a soft growl rumbled from the wolf. Njosnavelin scratched her nose with his free hand. "Fine, stay here. I have to look." He told her and slipped in to the gloom of the Plaguelands to track down his fears.
From a distance he looked formidable. The wind caught stray tendrils of his hair making it blaze like white fire. He stood still and calm gazing in to the distance. He watched him quietly, remembering the beautiful young mage as he had been. Njos had been terrified of him even then. Terrified and in awe of his radiance. He worshiped his beloved blindly.
Kelu knew the sight to be a lie. The deception that distance plays to hide the true vision. He crept closer. Each foot step seemed to reveal the truth of the horror that Seraphiel had become. His flesh, his form wasted and corrupted. The passion for life and the eternal lust for more gone.
Soft buzzing filled the air. As he crept closer through the gloom the atmosphere irked more on his senses. He felt it closing in around him, the sound of the insects scratching in his head. Seraphiel was infested. Though standing perfectly still he seemed to writhe from within. His shape was wrong. As if there was a hint of some other creature that lay beneath. Revulsion swelled the bile in his stomach.
" I know you're there Kelu." The cold empty voice drifted to him. Kelu, he called him Kelu. His code name, the name he was most known by. It was not what Seraphiel called him. Fury flashed through his heart. This was not his Firefly what ever it was had to be put down. He vaulted through the shadows, his dagger flashed in the moonlight blazing the rune "Raven" delicately engraved in to it. "You don't call me that," he growled.
"I won't stop you. Njós." Seraphiel remained still, gazing still at some distant point. This stopped him in his tracks. There was no threat in the voice, no promise of evil deeds to come just acceptance of the situation. The fear of what he was about to do shook him to the core. He circled Seraphiel quizzing him, desperately digging for some irrational shred of hope. There was none. The memory was there but there was nothing more. He stopped behind the abomination of his Firefly and raised "Raven" with both hands aiming for the nape of his neck. The terror in him drove his arm thrusting down.
The secret voice, a lost memory, the hidden conscience floated to the surface
Kelu....don't do this..... Kelu .... breath....
The dagger buried itself in to his thigh. He howled in pain and tumbled away from Seraphiel as the swarming insects gathered to feast on the fresh blood.
"Find a new life, Njósnavélin."
He dragged himself away haunted with self pity and shame. Nausea washed over him as the blood drained from him and the insects smothered him. As darkness slowly claimed him he felt warm breath in his face and the soft whine of his old wolf. He clambered on to her back and nestled in to her fur.
"Take me home puppy," He whispered.
Category:Story