The False Prophet
The Sands of Silithus have nothing to offer the lesser races. It is considered to be barren, without value or fertility and I suppose within the proper context one would be right to assume such a thing. The very nature of life though is shown through it's defiance of death, for in a dead land did our ancestor arise from and thrive within, the Silithid.
Seen by the lesser races as simple insects, unintelligent in their nature and simple in their existence. Of course this isn't incorrect, Silithid are no where near as intelligent as we and they live a simple life cycle. But to underestimate them is as foolish as those who assume them to be nothing more than giant insects. After all the existence of a Hive, consisting of hundreds if not thousands of beings cooperating for a singular purpose to protect and provide for the Hive, is something that could be compared to the lesser races or even ourselves. Is it not in our Nature to congregate? To seek the companionship of your kin or allies and the desire to help one another if possible? Not just in the Silithid, not just in the Elves, but in Qiraji as well. As in all beings across creation. Well all live for the sake of the Hive, our 'nation', or even our family.
Just as we live for, we must also be ready to die for our conviction.
Solitary creatures are those truly primitive. Those who act under a misguided belief that they are all whom they must rely upon, it is foolhardy. To think one could survive against the entirety of the world itself, no singular being could ever hope to have such a power and drive. The Ones from above created stone golems to assist in their work, the Legion is a coalition of horrid beings but it is a coalition nonetheless with similar goals and purpose, even our own Master did not act alone, there were others whom he waged conflict with against the Ones above.
Be they animals or thinking beings, anyone who thinks to strive alone, completely alone, is missing the point of their own existence. A meaningless death is as wasteful of the life that it lived, and a life lived alone was better not lived. In life one can contribute and add to an already existing entity, they can create where once was nothing, and they can destroy what once was. Through this cycle of creation and destruction does one find true purpose in their lives, in this existence. Through destruction, the old gives way to the new.
Much like how a Scarab must shed its shell, it does not wish to leave the known safety of itself, even as it constricts and closes in around its growing form does the Scarab resist. Those Scarabs who do not abandon their old forms wither away along with the weak and brittle shell. Rather than embrace it's rebirth does it instead coil and constrict around itself, content to die with it's past.
My kind coil and curl as well, slowly fading away along with the memory of a time long since past. But we are not ready to die.
Acceptance
Ours was always a land of the dead. Miles upon miles of scorching sands as far as one's eyes could see, broken only by the ancient stone, bleaching bones and writhing structures of the Hives. Nothing grows under the sun's rays, torn by the blasting winds or shriveled within the hot, dry air which engulfed all. The creatures that do live in this place must do so with utter resilience and persistence least they succumb to the desert's apathy. The Hives at one point were mighty, defiant in the face of death where no life could thrive. So were we too once, mighty... but now we are all on our last legs.
The lesser races came, with the opening of our Gates did they drive us back. They killed the Hive's Queens, destroyed their crystals, and slaughter untold number of eggs and hatchlings. It was a War of species, of genocide from the beginning, such was our master's will. We were expected to kill them all and yet instead it was we who felt death's embrace. Thousands upon thousands of years of preparation all for naught in the face of such a relentless foe. Unlike the lesser races, we were not seen as intelligent or sentient creatures. Appearance lead us to be more easily demonized, more disassociated with they themselves to allow a lighter conscious. Death on this scale then was catastrophic, the corpse trails grew long as they pushed deeper and deeper into Ahn'Qiraj, none among our ranks were spared.
General Rajaxx in all of his tactical prowess could not push beyond the mortals and he payed the price for the incompetence which plagued him even all those years ago.
Ossirian, the supposed 'invulnerable' veteran of the War fought long ago fell just as many of his kind did even with our Master's blessings.
High Prophet Skeram, who once was revered and respected for his mental abilities fared no better than those who came before him. The supposed Prophet should have foreseen the War's failure, his vision not only failed the Qiraj but also our Master, and he suffered the consequences for his false vision.
Our Emperors Vek'lor and Vek'nilash were the most powerful among our people. Chosen by our Master to lead us against the lesser races did they rule uncontested, unchallenged. And for all they were even they could not stand against the invaders. They fell, just as the rest. Our most powerful and mighty warriors vanquished as though they were simple drones.
But the final strike against us resonates with us to this day and ended all of our desires for the mortal's deaths, echoing across the ruins of our home forever more.
I had awakened some time ago but I neither felt rested or anticipation towards the coming day. My mind had been plagued with visions of the War as well as images I did not understand. A blackened sea, a gnarled forest, I had never been to such places before in my life and I had neither seen them as well. One who wields the gift of farsight however need not concern themselves with such things as memory, ours is a window into the world itself. Where my mind wanders it can experience as well if I had been present to bare witness to it. The energy, the fear, and the danger all felt more than real to myself, as well as many of my counterparts. And despite this, nothing could explain these new locations I had seen, consulting my kin was impossible for many of them no longer had the powers they once did under our former rule.
Revealing I still wielded farsight could prove dangerous.
Knowing that I could not remain where I laid did I rise reluctantly, leaving the familiar texture of my chamber and shaking off what sand clung to my body. Years ago we had the numbers to deal with sand seeping into the resting chambers, but now we struggle to keep our City from collapsing in on itself so coarse sand in the long run is one of the least worrying things to be concerned about. If one could bother being concerned about it though, for so long had we lived for a singular purpose that without it now, many of my kind simply did not know what to do with themselves. Reproduction has screeched to a halt even among what Silithid remain and we all perform our regular duties to what capacity we can muster.
I know not how to describe the feeling, this shroud that hangs over Ahn'qiraj. It permeates the air and seeps into every corner of our beings. Originally it was thought to be the stench of rotting corpses, the thousands upon thousands of dead littering the area around and within the city. Piles reaching taller than the largest Anubisath, figurative and actual mountains of bodies all slain during the war. But it cannot be for the bodies have long since been decayed to the point of their no longer being a stench, shells being all that remained.
It cannot be Druidic magics for the lesser races abandoned the City after the war's conclusion, even the front gates having been neglected. The Elves and the Bronze Dragons neither worry or concern over Ahn'qiraj so this isn't their doing.
With all my powers and all of my knowledge I cannot even name what it is we are experiencing. I have come to know however something similar occurs when one's life draws to an end. Is this it then? Do we all now live within a city of death? I do not feel pain but I neither feel alive. Those around me move as though they themselves are not there, even among my own caste there isn't a single one of us who move or act as they once did under our master's guidance. We may live, but I anticipate we are doing so over our own graves.
Exiting my chambers did I walk through the dimly lit hall of my home. Once it was a structure which houses many Mindflayers, brothers and sisters all. Now it could only be called my home. Well, that wouldn't be entirely accurate for my guard too lives within this dwelling as well.
Descending down a flight of stone stairs did I find him standing near the entrance, him straightening up as I had entered his vision. Unlike the Prophets, Gladiators were not mostly found in the deeper chambers of Ahn'Qiraj so many more of them survived then did my kin. His carapace was black much like most of his caste, but his trimmings were the same Teal shading that my carapace was. He stood only slightly taller than a normal Gladiator, piercing amber eyes that watched the war unfold from the front lines. Across his chest however stood an enormous scar which cut deeply into his body and stretched from his neck all the way down to his left leg. From what I was told he had been mortally wounded during the fighting and was left to die as the lesser races pushed into the City. Miraculously he survived his injury and managed to limp back into Ahn'Qiraj after the fighting had ceased and the lesser races having abandoned the city, only to see that his people had failed and his Master lay dead.
Many viewed him as a deserter and a coward, but they all lack the will to act on their assumptions.
"Lady Skati."
Ayssir's voice rumbled harshly in his chest, a harsh whistling noise being formed from his neck. As it stood, he didn't escape his injuries so easily and much more than his scar was evident of this.
"Ayssir."
I greeted him in kind. While I held no animosity towards Ayssir for what occurred to him, that didn't lead me to respect him as an actual warrior. He was defeated on the battlefield and whoever crippled him didn't see the need to finish what they started. Ayssir either survived because his opponent thought he was dead or they simply did not care to properly end him. In these times though, one couldn't afford to be picky. Like myself, Ayssir was one of the few remaining Gladiators left of our kind, just as I am one of the handful of Prophets still standing. I am fortunate enough to have a guard such as he, even if he is incompetent.
Exiting our stone structure did we feel the desert's sun once more upon our shells, it's warmth bringing some comfort to my unease but unable to lift the shroud which covered us all. We descended down the stone steps of our home and onto the sand pathways which countless others had traversed, both kin and otherwise. The hot, dry wind blew through my cloak as we walked towards the main temple.
Beauty is a very abstract concept for my kind for so long have we partnered and sired offspring based off of our cause alone. I however believe mine could be the closest resemblance to such a status. My carapace is a plain teal mixed with a dark blue along my shoulders and chest, much of my robes also being the same shade of blue. There was a time when I could afford luxuries such as newer clothing or jewels to fit one of my stature in society. However many of the weavers have all but been devoted to being drones to replace those that were lost during the battle. Priorities have changed as have my own.
We walked down the sand covered street as wisps of the course dust blew roughly past us. Lining the sides of the street were the empty shells of those who fell in the final battle. There was a time once when such things could be broken down, could be utilized by the City and to give their previous owners the proper end they deserved. Now they lay cooking under the hot sun, cracks forming along the obsidian and tan carapaces belonging to the soldiers of Ahn'Qiraj.
"These remains will never know rest."
I spoke aloud, my eyes scanning the piles upon piles of carapaces and shells. Some stood taller then Ayssir himself they were piled so high.
"Ours is a land of the dead now, where once we stood defiant we now bend like reeds to the wind."
My guard spoke a wise truth as we continued onward. Scurrying across our path, a Silithid Scarab approached one of the piles and it attempted to pull a carapace out from the stack. No doubt to attempt to use it as material for building, even with their few numbers the Silithid are too dedicated and simple to ever deviate from their tasks, no matter how futile they are.
Walking by the struggling Scarab, my eyes lingered on it for longer then what I would have normally done. It worked because it was told to do so, but what would it do if it's masters were dead and gone? Would it continue as it was instructed? It is far too simple of a creature to understand the concepts of loyalty so it functioned purely on what it was commanded to perform. No matter what would happen, if the skies darkened and rain began to drown the land or if the earth beneath Azeroth gave way to the end or if Fire hailed from the wastelands, this Scarab would perform it's charge for however long it could until it's inevitable demise.
Inevitability, it was something we all have been forced to accept. Our existence is in ruin, there is nothing else for us now. We await are our inevitability, we await our end.
The Temple's stairs were as familiar to me as the sun is upon our backs. I have walked them for countless cycles, during the War of old and during that of the new, I hurried up and down these steps with the enthusiasm and energy of a simple drone however odd that comparison is. My purpose lay within this Temple, these stairs are what elevated me from those who walk the City's streets below and who are commanded by our Master himself.
Today, the stairs only serve to impede me.
I no longer walk with the same diligence and satisfaction. My purpose is long lost now, my current charge is a hollow shell of what my previous task used to be. Serving Prophet Skeram was the highest of honors one could have been bestowed upon during the reign of our Master.
What a fool he was.
In all his vision and all his knowledge he did not see his own end approaching. His powers were meaningless and completely worthless in the end for when they were needed most did he fail us all. He was chosen to speak our Master's will and he did so like an arrogant fool. Any one of us could have had a better vision into the future then he, he, who the Master had placed it's full faith and trust in, he above all others was entrusted with the future of his Will and our people and Skeram failed. He failed us all, every last one of us. Our Emperors are dead, are City is in ruins, the Master lives no more, Ahn'Qiraj has fallen due to his incompetence!
"Lady Skati?"
Ayssir's voice brought me back from my own thoughts and I looked around at my immediate area. The open skies of Silithus were gone and the organic covering of the Hive could be seen instead, the familiar wet ground beneath my legs and the wind's air was no longer blowing through my robes. As I thought about the deceased Prophet I had become so involved in my own thoughts I didn't see the world passing by.
This was unbefitting of someone my stature and I needed to regain my focus.
"It's fine Ayssir."
I silenced my guard with a swift reply, looking to my side and passing by the corpse of our Master's most beloved creation. Ouro was once mighty, the most powerful of all our Lord's design. One could argue he fought harder then any in Ahn'Qiraj, he who held back the tide of invaders as the last line of defense for our Master. Yet in all his efforts he too failed in the end.
He lay here now, a shell all that remains of the once mighty worm. His body was too large to be moved and even now his carapace was too strong to be broken by our drones. So he was left there to rot. He who lived solely in the defense of his creator was left to decay like garbage.
I shook the thoughts from my mind as we journeyed back upwards towards the Master's chamber. I was so enthralled in my opinion of Skeram that I had passed through the Emperor's bodies, who were left to rot like the failures they were, and even past the tunnel leading to the Master himself. Now facing the chamber where he lay, Ayssir knew well enough he wasn't to follow and he stayed behind along with several other 'guards' who kept watch at the chamber's entrance. I steeled myself for what I was to see again. No matter how many times I had looked upon it I still could barely withstand the sight. But it was my duty nonetheless and I turned in it's direction to look upon the corpse of C'Thun.
It's eyes had glazed over many years ago, pale blue orbs which no longer held the spark of life within them. It was my Master's eyes which bothered me the most. When I was younger I held the honor of being one of the few to see our Master's Eye, it's shining brilliance and power still fresh in my mind as I now looked upon the Master's body in it's retched state. Unlike the soldiers and servants of Ahn'Qiraj, our Master's corpse didn't decay. It's wounds were still as fresh as they were when those horrid lesser races intruded into his chamber to end the Old God's life. The evidence of the battle was evident across his body, deep gashes, burns and iced over pieces of flesh and more lined his magnificence.
The interesting creature Cho'Gall had once visited our Master's body intending on resurrecting his glory once. But as always the lesser races saw fit to ensure our Master would never return and they drove off the Ogre before burying the corpse in as much rubble as they could muster. It took our drones several months to remove the debris and repair the ceiling above our Master, we all worked for weeks on end to see it done, Drones, Prophets, Warriors, none would refuse the task of getting the stone off of the Master's body.
Once we had succeeded in freeing the Master we remaining Prophets set to work on our most important task. Before the lesser races came a second time, the Master was able to whisper to us it's servants. Our Mindflayers attempted to decipher what the Master was attempting to tell us but many went mad in doing so. Before we were able to understand his will, the Ogre came and the lesser races were not far behind. After Cho'Gall attempted his ritual and the Master was buried beneath the rubble. When the Master was excavated the whispers had ceased. Try as we might the Master had gone silent and we could barely even sense the Master's presence.
And thus today, what Prophets remain gather around our Master's body and we utilize all of our mental powers to open ourselves up to the Master. It was as Prophet Skeram had done countless years ago, written into his journal. Like him, we hope to be commanded by our Master, to hear the very last command that was given before he was buried and left forgotten.
This is where I stand now, among my kin and before my Master. Inhaling the scent of death into my chest, I exhaled with a shudder and opened my mind.
Please, Master. Guide us once more.
Tell me what is your Will.
Please...
Speak to me...Master...
Revelation
I exited the chamber feeling exhausted as always. We Mindflayers performed our duty for as long as our minds could mentally withstand it. Eventually though we all gave out at one point or another and were forced to leave our Master behind to rest. Initially this wasn't the case but after several Mindflayers passed out and didn't awaken we realized the importance of rest.
"Lady Skati."
A familiar but dreaded voice sounded and I found myself speaking before I turned around.
"Lord Yaru."
I greeted in kind as my fellow Mindflayer approached from behind, his carapace being shining red thro and thro. I despised that coloring as well as his irritating voice.
"You seemed...distracted today. Is something troubling your thoughts?"
Damn him, he only ever was perceptive when it suited his convenience. I wasn't about to admit to my wayward thoughts and I shook my head.
"Not at all. I only saw fit to pay the Master's creation the respect it deserved is all. There is nothing to worry about."
"Oh is that true now?"
Yaru asked in a tone that spoke of how much he supposedly knew more then I.
"You gave out sooner then any of us during our hearing."
He pointed out with satisfaction, taking delight in any occasion to where he could consider himself to be my better.
"That is the sign of one whose thoughts are not their own. Perhaps you are beginning to lose your edge, Lady Skati."
"You are mistaken Lord Yaru there is nothing of the sort occurring with my mind. I must bid you farewell now for I require rest."
I ignored anything else he could have spoken to me and I vacate the entrance to the chamber as quickly as my legs would travel with Ayssir by my side. Teleportation takes willpower and all of it is devoted to listening for the Master's will, thus I walked to and fro where I needed to instead of utilizing my mind. That insufferable cur, how dare he speak to me in such a way! Within the Master's presence at that as well as within the company of our kin! For how much longer must I endure his insufferable idiocy I do not know.
The Master though...the Master will speak to us again soon, we will carry out his Will soon.
We must.
That night when I returned to my home and dismissed Ayssir did I still feel the same unease I was experiencing hours ago when I was making my way to where the Master lay. On the way back I took more noticed of the corpses which had been left and my mind began to wander as it had done before. Why was it that so many of our strongest and most powerful Warriors had died and yet those like Ayssir and myself survived?
The lesser races knew no mercy and they spared nothing in their path, why did they not ensure we were all dead when they took the Master's life? Why wouldn't they think we wouldn't try to-...to...
Oh...they...they knew we...we wouldn't do anything without our Master. They knew that without someone to give us commands we wouldn't do anything to them. It is the only logical reason to spare the rest of Ahn'Qiraj. Without our Emperors and our God, what are we now?
My steps begin to stumble, this revelation is too much for even my mind to bear. I slump against a nearby wall, my breathing erratic and my vision becoming hazy from the intensity of the truth.
They left us here because they knew without guidance we would die. As much as I would wish to deny it seems to be the only truth to what has been happening. Our lack of energy, our diminishing numbers, the corpse piles, we've all be on the road to our graves and we weren't even aware of it. We w-we gather around a corpse for guidance, listening to the silence of death to lead us to our future which does not exist.
H-How could we be so blind to our own oncoming demise!?
My thoughts begin to manifest, blasting away chunks of the walls and old sleeping arrangements for my former kin. My wardrobe bursts into flames as I further secumb to my own dispair. I choke out a strangled gasp as I feel a myriad of emotions overcome me. Anger towards the lesser races for what they took from us and condemned those who survived to. Fear at my own revelation of the present and now our future. Even emotions I could not describe because I had never experienced them before. I couldn't breath, my vision was fading fast, nothing was making sense to me anymore. Combined with the exertion from opening my mind to a corpse's presence was too great for me to withstand all at once.
Stumbling into the center of my ruined room do I collapse into a heap, the last image my eyes could see was the rapidly approaching floor.
"...kati...Lady Skati?"
My guard's voice pierced through the darkness' veil and I awoke to find myself laying upon the floor of my chambers. A quick glance around me and I found that what occurred the night previously was not a dream. Furniture lay in destroyed chunks scattered about the chamber and cracks ran along it's organic membrane along the ceiling and threatened to give way from the intensity of my outburst.
"My Lady are you injured?"
Ayssir's voice once more brought me out of my own thoughts and I could smell the distinct scent of copper in the air, something I hadn't experienced since the City was invaded. Something moist was on my lips and I carefully brought my arm upwards to wipe at what was there beneath my veil. The stain on my robe confirmed my suspicion, I used my mental abilities when I had completely exhausted what energy I had the day earlier. I passed out because I was exhausted emotionally and mentally and I was most likely experiencing a seizure before I passed out.
"I...I am alive."
I told my servant who then proceeded to help me back off of the floor and onto my legs. My head was throbbing from what I had done the night before and even Ayssir could see that.
"You require water yes?"
He asked. Ayssir was no medicinal Man nor was he knowledgeable in the body and what it needed. Why would he? He is but a Warrior, but he was correct in that regard. Hydration is what my body needs now and it also needs rest but I cannot afford to idle any longer.
"My servant."
I began, gaining his attention immediately as I turned towards him with more passion and more liveliness he had seen from me yet.
"I have...I have foreseen the future."
His eyes widened from this knowledge, subconsciously leaning forward to better listen to my insight into the future.
"I have seen death, Ayssir. Slow, agonizing miserable death in our future. Not just your's and not just my own but that of all Qiraji. If we continue on the path we walk now we will all die in this City. But it is not a definite fate."
Ayssir now took several steps back, unable to understand what I had just told him. Change the future? How could such a thing be possible, she had foreseen what was going to happen and any action taken or not would not alter it's outcome.
"I realize more then you that a Prophet's prophecy is definite. If I had seen our demise then surely we will meet it. But Ayssir, I know now what I must do to alter it. As impossible as it seems the future can be altered. I only ask for your loyalty, I ask that if I call upon you that you will answer my call and you will fight for me. Do you swear to this Ayssir of Ahn'Qiraj?"
I knew what his answer would be. I knew it when he hesitated and tried to think of what I had told him. I knew it when he grunted in frustration before kneeling down before me.
"I swear to you, Lady Skati. And only to you."
"Prophet."
I corrected my servant before bidding him to rise.
"Prophet Skati."
Release
We walked through the streets of Ahn'Qiraj unopposed. If any had the sense to look about them they would find that both I am my servant moved with energy and determination we hadn't demonstrated in many years. Along the pathway did I spot the same Scarab that I had witness before, still pulling at the carapaces piled high uselessly. My eyes narrowed and I knew that the Silithid would be needed if my goal was to work. I breathed deeply before reaching out with my mind.
In years past I would have heard the combined thoughts of my kin, the Prophets all utilizing their minds to command and control the events in Ahn'Qiraj. Now there was only deafening silence, indicating the surviving Prophets were all too focused on listening to our Master's corpse then directing anything.
"Cease."
My voice echoed into the minds of the simple Silithid, every one of them halting in whatever task they had in that moment at my command. I was unopposed and they listened to me alone.
"Gather what eggs there are."
"Make the carriers ready."
"Engorge them with nectar."
"Feast on what reserves there are left."
"Make ready to leave the City."
My mind echoed in the silence and the City suddenly became alive with activity and motion. The Hives stirred as it's inhabits sprang to life once more. I heard them, the resonating calls of hundreds of Silithid Workers, Wasps, Reavers, Worms and even a single Colossus. Lord Kri had survived his injuries and was in deep hibernation in the chamber of his companions to recover from the horrific blows that had been dealt to him. Awakening from his sleep was he ready to answer my call and set out to move to the surface above, his strength would surely be a boon to my cause. How thrilled I was to have summoned up the City in this way, to have commanded such power over them..
But there was still much to be done, the Qiraji still remained unaware of what was happening and I needed to move quickly to capitalize on this moment. Even in their haze they should be able to see through it enough to notice the City humming with activity again.
The sun was beginning to set as I had left my home late that day. Not for the chance of recovery but because I needed enough time to pass before I could move on with my plan.
I climbed the steps of the Temple once more and I descended down into it's depths, Ayssir being forced to make an effort to stay by my side in order to keep up. Down into the tunnels we went, the winding passageways filled with Silithid as they rushed to carry out their orders.
The moment was almost at hand and I found myself trembling in anticipation for it.
Arriving just outside of the main chamber did I turn to my servant. Not a word was spoken between us and yet there was no need for there to be any speech. Ayssir nodded slowly and took his place among the other Gladiators and Warriors while I made my way into the Master's chamber. The corpse still filled me with such heaviness but now I had been filled with a resolve I did not think was possible without him. The other Prophets paid me no heed, all just having about used up their minds in trying to contact the Master...C'Thun.
I took a deep breath and exhaled freely. I emptied my mind of all distractions, every ounce of power I had would be required for this feat of Psychic power. I reached upwards and I could feel the structure around me. It's age from when it was built long before the time of my kin, the damage it suffered during the first invasion, the subsequent interference of Cho'Gall and then the repairs that were done to it post everything. I grasped the stone with my mind and I exhaled once more for I knew what was to come.
Gathering all the strength that I wielded did I drag down the ceiling above. The stone held firm for a few moments before buckling and raining down upon the body of our God. The action snapped many of the Prophets out of their reveres and the looked to the collapsing ceiling with utterly mortified expressions.
"What...What have you done?"
Yaru was holding his arms out towards C'Thun as he struggled to understand what just happened and what was still occurring.
"I have foreseen what must be done. I putting our Master to rest."
I replied with determination, still utilizing my mind to further bring not just the chamber down but also the building surrounding it. The chamber began to shift and groan as it's supports were giving way, snapping the Prophets out of their revere and causing panic amongst them. Lord Yura was not so easily dissuaded and disbelief gave way to rage and he snarled like a Silithid Wasp before throwing me to the ground.
"Traitor! You would betray our Master!"
Even now as he howled his voice was nothing but irritating. I was unable to resist his mental blow though and my body was wracked with pain. Looming over me did he fully intend on finishing what I started but he suddenly doubled over in surprise and a splatter of blood was produced against his veil which dripped down his chest and further staining his robes.
"Wh-What did-"
He stuttered out in pained shock, already his vision turning black as his mind gave out from over exerting it. Unlike myself however, where he would fall would not be a safe place to recover. Standing back up and controlling the shudder I felt from the pain of his psychic blast, I looked to my surviving kin and I stood straight and ignored the pain Lord Yura inflicted.
"I have seen our future, it does not lay here by our Master's side. If you truly wish to honor his memory then you will follow your Prophet!"
I did not wait to see if they would follow. If I did they might have seen the falsehood in my vision. My Prophecy is false but it will serve as the means to ensure my people survive. The Temple lurched once more around us and I knew the structure wasn't going to remain stable for any longer. Before I could start up the ramp leading out though, I felt another rumble but beneath us this time and I turned to face where C'Thun's body once lay. I need not await much longer for exploding forth from the rubble did I see a wave of power which washed over the Prophets, their bodies being destroyed instantly by a tidal wave of darkness. There was no mistaking this power for what it was. This was my Master's final death cry as he was buried beneath his Temple once more.
I threw up a psychic barrier and poured everything I could into stabilizing it before I was overtaken by the darkness. The wailing of a dying God echoed in my mind as I collapsed.
"...ati...Skati!"
My eyes opened slowly and I found myself looking upwards once more towards Ayssir through blurred vision. On his back was he keeping a large stone block from crushing me and I was jolted from my daze at the severity of the situation.
"My Prophet we must leave immediately, it is all coming down!"
The Gladiator urged me as he shifted the stone off of his back and onto the ground with a thud. Hurrying onto my legs do we then turn to flee from the collapsing chamber. The guards that once stood outside the chamber are gone and no doubt we told to head to the surface by Ayssir. Whether he knew it or not, the Gladiator would serve as Rajaxx once did for our people for if he is in my service I will have unopposed control over the remaining Qiraji. For my plan to work there must be no divisions between our kin.
Through the tunnels we hurried as the walls all around us began to crack and give way. Chunks from the ceiling fell to the floor and forced us to avoid them as best as we could. Thankfully neither of us were in serious danger for the pieces he couldn't dodge Ayssir managed to shrug off of his carapace and those that would crush him or I were moved with my power. The chambers we passed were emptied thankfully which only confirmed the control I now exerted over the Silithid in service to us.
Finally did we see the light of day before us and the Warriors Ayssir had commanded to surface were waiting there for us.
"Go! Run for your lives least this City be your graves!"
I shouted to them both through my voice and my mind, shaking them all into movement as we fled the Temple. Glancing back did I witness the structure being pulled into the earth and burying what lay deep within it's confines. It wouldn't be long before the ground continued to give way and as tired as my limbs were becoming I knew that if I died everything I will have done thus far will have been for nothing. Through the streets we ran, the buildings beginning to collapse and sections of the ground simply falling into a darkness below. Piles of carapaces toppled over and blocked our path which were blasted away through my psychic pulses.
As we rushed around a street corner, I caught a glimpse of a familiar sight and I couldn't help but stop in my tracks at the ridiculousness of it. The exact same Scarab was still attempting to pull the carapace which was freed from a fallen pile. The poor thing must have been defective or unable to properly hear instructions but after everything that I had done leaving it behind would seem hypocritical. And so I lifted the thing up with a bit of my power and forced it to abandon it's task behind.
Finally, the main gate was in sight and Ayssir slide to a stop just before it as I hurried behind from having picked up the Scarab. I felt the earth shifting and giving way beneath my legs and with one last burst of speed I propelled myself forward as the road collapsed in front of me. Weightlessness soon gave way to gravity's pull and I felt myself descending downwards before suddenly being stopped as Ayssir caught my robe.
"I have you my Prophet! I will not let go!"
The Gladiator's assurances were appreciated and would be thanked once he lifted me onto solid ground. With little effort did he pull back and bring me onto the ground, gladly taking to walking on the solid earth once more. Panting heavily did I move through the gate and into the desert beyond the City. Before me stood the remnants of Ahn'Qiraj, so many that I had not seen or knew that were alive. But it was done. I had managed to do the impossible. C'Thun's corpse was now forever beyond Qiraji reaches and so it would remain. Ahn'Qiraj itself was it's grave now, it was the City we had been born in. But through my intervention it would not be the City where we would die in.
I turned back towards the collapsed City now, it having fallen into the darkness where it would remain forever more. A dead City was now a grave to a dead God.
"My Prophet."
Ayssir stood before me, kneeling and giving all of our people reason to do the same. They looked to me now, they trusted my vision to guide them to a new future and they knelt just as my servant did. Still holding on to the Scarab I had rescued, I was glad to be wearing my veil for it hid the joy I was expression at what had succeeded in.
"We are yours to command. What would you have us do now?"
Ayssir asked, voicing the wonder of all Qiraji. I looked upwards, beyond the masses of Qiraji and Silithid, beyond the harsh desert sand and sun, and beyond the hold the lesser races gathered in the middle of Silithus.
"Now? We forge our future."