Onin was born in the Stranglethorn Vale, on the outskirts of Darkspear territory. She lived there until she was 4, when a naga raid on her village destroyed it and killed many of its residents, including her mother and father. She was left alone in the world. Even at this very young age, these events...seeing all that death and destruction, it drove her into darkness and depression. When she and the other refugees where travelling further inland to the core of the darkspear territory, she never spoke a word. She screamed and cried as her parents died when their home was burnt with them inside, but after that she never showed any emotion other than in her sleep, when she loosed blood-curdling screams. It was during these episodes that her fellow darkspear began to fear her, for during these nightmares, the shadows created by the torchlight seemed to move towards her, as though they were drawn to her. When she finally awoke, any troll who was not too afraid to go near her, would ask her what it was that scared her so much. She would only stare at them then waved them away.
When they finally reached the next Darkspear village, the elders of this town welcomed the refugees and promised to care for them. One elder, Morajae, noticed that this one girl was given a wide berth by the rest of her people. When he questioned the refugees why this was, they told him the stories of her eerie silence and lack of emotion, and the terrifying nightmares she experienced. He decided he would attempt to communicate with her, himself. When he entered the tent she was staying in, however, he was quite surprised. He found her staring at one of the torches at the centre of the teepee, whispering into the flames...talking, then waiting, then replying, as though there was something on the other side of the flames holding a conversation with her. He swallowed his fears and doubts, and entered the tent. He asked her how she was feeling and what she was doing just now. She immediately shut down and turned away, lying down on her woven-mat. Morajae made no further attempts to communicate with her but instead left the tent and went straight to meet with a farseer elder, Vanira. She said that when she arrived in the village, she felt a sensation wash over her, like ice but it burnt her skin and made her soul feel...empty. He asked her for help and guidance on how to help the girl and bring her out of this dark place she was in. Vanira meditated for a few moments before responding..."I see the girl, in our future. I see two paths before us...and she is the fork in the road, the one who will lead us down either path. But, it is not her choice which path she takes us down, it is ours. This girl...she is a key, the key. Either she will be the Key to the Survival and Prosperity of the Darkspear tribe, or she will be the Key to our downfall and eventual destruction. This girl, she is alone. Alone in the darkness, and we have a opportunity before us. Either we become her light and lead her out of the darkness, help her. Or, we leave her in the dark and she will remain alone, until she one day comes to our home, and burns us all."
Morajae was so confused, "How could a girl, recovering from such tragery and loss, possibly be the key to our survival or deaths? This doesn't make any sense...". Vanira had no answer for him, she was only the messenger. Deeply troubled by Vanira's words, he watched Onin closely. He made frequent attempts to communicate with her over the next weeks, doing anything he could to bring her out of her shell. He tried bringing her to meet the elders of the village to try and get her involved with the day to day goings on in the tribe, but she showed no interest and the elders themselves wanted very little to do with her. Morajae asked them why? They could only respond that they felt the same way Vanira did when Onin entered the village...cold and empty inside. They said they could sense darkness within her. Morajae was not going to give up so he moved to his next idea of trying to get her to socialise with the other darkspear children. At first, it seemed to work, she seemed to attempt to get involved, she even spoke on a few rare occasions. This did not last. Various younglings would return to their parents or the elders and tell them about how Onin had told sick, dark jokes that scared them, how she would prank them tricking them into hurting themselves or would dare them to jump from the tops of huts and other buildings. They too were afraid of this poor, lonely girl. Morajae observed her, when she was away from the rest of the group of playing children. She would sit in corners of rooms or behind huts and seemingly talk to something around her, sometimes it was abover her in the top corner of a room, sometimes it was to her side and other times right in front of her. She would laugh and giggle with this unknown creature. Morajae also continuously noticed what had been previously brought to his attention, the fact that the shadows seemed to move towards her, drawn to her. Time went by, weeks turned into months turned into years. Over this time, Onin gradually opened up to the people around her, she was even able to join in with the other children. It is true, she never truly fit in with them, but it never mattered to her, or anyone. They all just knew her as Onin, that dark and oft-times scary girl. This was progress but some part of her never really changed. She was still sinister and deceptive at times, she was still perform her pranks on the other children, but as she grew older these tricks became more painful, even violent. She was known to hurt people who ever hurt her, she would get her revenge and so much more. After more than 2 years since arriving in this new village, a string of small fires occured, burning parts of huts and houses. It was clear that these were not the product of a coincidental change of accidents, no. These fires weren't even natural, they had burnt hotter than any fire Morajae had felt...and the smell, Brimstone. It was hellfire. This was the work of some dark magician or warlock, but there were no warlocks or any other such person in the village.. It wasn't until the home of the village Elders caught fire, and was burnt entirely to cinders with one of the Elders barely making it out alive, that they finally had their culprit, Onin. She was found behind the burnt-out building staring at the embers and whispering to herself, the shadows from the remnants of the fire dancing around her. She had scorch marks on her hands, as though the fire had burst forth from her palms, but she was unharmed. The elders soon connected the dots, realising that she wasn't just some strange little girl. She was a warlock, even if she didnt know it yet, and a powerful one at that; she was able to create hellfire from her palms now at 6 years old - something which other warlocks Morajae had met had been unable to do after years of training, being only able to create small fires and embers, Onin was never talking to herself in these mutterings and whispers, she was communicating with creatures from beyond, shrouded in shadow. Clearly she had such a great affinity for the Dark Arts that she was able to reach out through the twisting nether to creatures and monsters that lay beyond, and evidently they were drawn to her and her power. She could very well have been an extremely powerful warlock, dangerously so.
The Elders weren't willing to take any chances, so the elder Vanira summoned the other shamans of the village and moved in to capture Onin, ready to defend themselves should she lash out. However, as they encrouched, Onin visibly began to panic and attempted to flee from these people but quickly found herself entirely surrounded, cut off from any point of escape. Vanira attempted to speak with her, to calm her down or at the very least distract, but Onin saw through her sweet words to the lies beneath. She turned and saw the other shamans moving closer to grab her. She began to panic even more, Morajae watched on. He wanted to jump in and help her, but he was afraid of what could happen, what either side would do to him if he got in the way. Finally, Onin's fear peaked and she screamed, a blood-curdling cry. But when she did, waves of dark, swirling energy pulsed out from her striking the surrounding shamans plus Morajae and the other village on-lookers. With the first pulse, many of the villagers and a few of the shamans collapsed in agony but Morajae and a handful of others managed to hold their ground. The pain, it felt like the dark pulse was a whip; lashing at his soul, tearing through it. Then came the second pulse, washing over them as the first had done but with even more fury, as though the darkness itself had recongised that they were still standing and was going to use all its force to bring them down. It was this hit that brought Morajae to his knees, barely clinging to consciousness. The few remaining villagers fell, along with 2 elders and one shaman. The only ones left were Morajae, Vanira-who was visibly weakening with her knees shaking beneath her, and Erko and Zureeya-two shaman who were in the same state as Morajae, on their knees barely clinging to consciousness. He saw Vanira take tentative, unsteady steps towards Onin in an attempt to stop her from doing anymore damage. It was as she got with arms reach of Onin that the final and most powerful pulse yet, hit. Morajae's last sight was Vanira's legs buckling and giving out from underneath her, bringing her to her knees. Then, everything went black.
When Morajae finally awoke, he was in the hut of one of the shamanic healers of their village. He attempted to rise from his bed but the pain struck him back down. It was here he remembered all that had taken place; the fires in the village, finding Onin, being blasted by her dark pulses. After a few minutes of heavy-breathing, Morajae managed to push himself up, slowly. He saw a few villagers in chairs by a fire, a few more lying down in their reed beds-their chests rising slowly, each breath ragged and pained. This activity was all he could manage, however, and he quickly slipped back into a deep and dreamless sleep. Over the next few days Morajae faded in and out of consciousness, regaining his strength as he rested. After 3 days, he was able to get up and move around the healer's hut and talk with the other trolls resting there with him. Most of them didn't have much to say, they were either too weak to talk or just didn't want to. But, from two people sitting around the fire, who were the first to recover, he learnt of what happened: what became of Vanira; and how they all ended up in the hut. After he collapsed from Onin's third dark pulse, Vanira, while on her knees and near collapse, managed to place a hex on Onin thereby transforming her and stopping her from casting the spell. Vanira collapsed afterwards and Village guards from the outskirts of the area were the ones to collect all the people and move them to the healer's hut. They told Morajae that Vanira was in a seperate area, quarantined. She took the brunt of Onin's attacks and so she was the most injured out of all. According to a shaman that passed by later on, Vanira had been placed in a spiritual stasis to allow her body and spirit time to heal, uninterrupted, but also to keep Vanira from attempting to rise before she was truly ready.
It was another 4 days before Morajae was given freedom to leave. He quickly asked one of the headhunters outside the hut where the other elders where and what they had done with Onin. He pointed to the spirit-speakers cave on the hill just West of the village and said that they had been deliberating on-and-off for the past week on what to do with her, and were still undecided. He walked there as fast as he could, occasionally having to stop to take a moments break before continuing on up the hill. He had enough time to contemplate on this walk, the headhunter had said that they were undecided on what to do with Onin but undecided on what? Training her? Exiling her? Or worse... No doubt Morakki and Erko would push for killing her or at the very least exiling her. They meant well, they were staunch defenders of their people and would do anything to protect the darkspear, but they were far too serious. They were the types who would make no compromise, take no half measures in the defence of their people. This would put them against Morajae. He hoped he would have some allies or friends amongst the elders, some who would see reason and attempt to care for Onin, train her. He knew, despite all that had taken place, that if Vanira was there she would still fight for Onin's protection, Vanira was a good person plus she was the one who spoke the warning from the spirits so she would know that the village must either band together and help Onin...or kill her, for if they exiled her, then it would only doom them for one day Onin would return and seek revenge on the tribe. But, alas, Vanira was still in stasis, unable to aid Morajae...until it would be too late and Onin's fate would be sealed one way or another.
As he approached the top, he could hear talking coming from inside the cave, talking which then rose into a heated argument before dying down into silence. When he finally entered the cave, he could see the elders were meditating, no doubt asking the spirits for guidance but Morajae assumed, from their previous arguments and that according the guard they had been here for the better part of a week, that they had not gotten back a clear answer if any answer at all. He attempted to enter the cave as silently as possible in order to not disturb the elders' meditation, but he never was very stealthy and so Zureeya noticed his entry and the other elders followed quickly. They were shocked to see him, asked him how he was doing and said how good it was to see him up and about. A cheerful moment, but he knew it would not last. He wanted to catch them off guard so he wasted no time and asked them. Where is Onin? What condition is she in? The shocked expressions on their faces showed that he was successful in this, they had no time to prepare an answer nor sugar-coat it. They were forced to give him a bare-bones response and told him that she was being held in a hut on the bank of the nearby river, far away from the village. They said that she was detained there, barred from all contact with the outside world except for the meals and water that were passed into the hut. They knew that Morajae would not like this at all, hence the fear as they told him. He simply sighed and sat down at the fire in the centre of the cave and waited for them all to join them. After a few moments of hesitant looks between the other elders, they joined him by the fire. He told them that he had heard that they had been discussing the Onin issue for days now, evidently without reaching any form of accord, and asked them to recount what options they had discussed and if they had narrowed down their options at all. The elders were clearly stunned that he was being so level headed. On the outside he was being very civil, but inside he was furious. They had imprisoned Onin, alone and in the dark. They were practically begging for the prophecy to come true, how could they be so blind and stupid?
When the elders sat down, they cast a few more stares around the room before Larrako, a 78 year old shaman who was not present in the village at the time, finally spoke up. He said that they had 4 options before them, but only 3 were actually realistic: they could exile her-but there was always the chance that she could return to exact her revenge upon the village; they could bring her into the village once again and attempt to train her with her powers-but there were no warlocks in the village so it would mean bringing in a teacher from another village who the other villagers may not trust, plus they tried being kind and welcoming towards her before, over the past few years, but these recent events still happened so what was stopping them from happening again should they accept her into the village once more?; lastly, they could kill her-they would prevent the chance of her ever becoming the key to the darkspear's prosperity but it would be worth it to prevent the chance of her sparking off again in the middle of the village should they choose to train her, and it would prevent the chance of her ever returning to exact revenge upon the village should they choose to exile her-this was, ultimately, the safest option by far. Morajae would hear none of it and the look on his face showed it. He expressed his disgust of killing a 7 year old child merely out of fear of the shadow she cast into their future and that he would never allow such an abomination to occur. Barati stepped in here saying that she did not believe that this was his decision alone, that we are a council of elders and We make the decisions. Morajae sighed, and asked the council to voice each of their opinions on the matter. Kruki voiced his opinion on that suggestion itself, saying the council has done this 10 times in the past week-but Morajae cut him off to say, with a sense of force and spite to his voice, that they will do it One Last Time, with a fresh pair of ears to listen.
There was a collective sigh from the council before Elder Morakki cleared his throat and spoke up. He said that it was his and Erko's shared opinion that, despite how extreme it was, they could not take neither risk of exiling her creating the opportunity for her to survive and return nor the risk of training her but have her lose control, as she was clearly already unstable, during her training or risk her have another episode and lash out and the people around her. The Girl Must die. Erko nodded in accordance with Morakki, and Larakko, the withering elder, sighed almost in defeat. Clearly, they had been progressively wearing him down over the course of their debates, and he looked tired and weak as though he was just about ready to take any decision if it meant the end to these seemingly endless arguments. Morajae knew that if he could turn the rest of the elders, possibly isolate Morakki and Erko, then Larakko would follow the flow, he didn't want to hurt Onin but he also didnt want to spend the rest of his days in this cave in a yelling match. Morajae turned to face the rest of the room, ushering them to continue to voice their opinions.
Next, came Zureeya. Her answer was simultaneously supportive and worrying, she wanted Onin to be trained, so that she may be able to control her power so to prevent her from losing control and lashing out as she had. This was good, but she proceeded to say that if Onin could truly master her evidently great, inert power then she could be the key in halting, and possibly even completely reverting their tribe's decline caused by the encroaching naga forces from the sea. The same forces that had raided the village of Onin's birth and murdered her parents. She said that she could be used as a tool to wholey destroy the naga and return their tribe to its position of power...Zureeya wanted to use Onin as a weapon, a tool. She wanted to turn Onin's sadness and unresolved trauma into anger and hatred, then direct it at the naga. She wanted to turn Onin from a creature of sadness and pain into a monster filled with anger and rage, a monster that relished the thought of wholesale genocide, a monster to defeat the monsters. Morajae was unsure what to do, does he oppose her here and now? Stop her from saving Onin, to prevent her from doing what she plans to do with her in the future? Or does he just follow along, work with her as an ally for now to protect the girl. Saving Onin in this very moment should be all that mattered to Morajae, but yet he couldn't help but be concerned. Yes, he would save her from death now, but should Zureeya succeed in turning Onin into a weapon in the future then what kind of existence would that be? One where her whole life is fueled by rage against her enemy. A life consumed by hate, surrounded by death...
Morajae decided that he must do what he has to do to save Onin, so he joined with the Lesser of Two Evils to defeat the Greater...he hoped that he would not regret this decision further down the path.
He voiced his opinion, stating what everyone in the room already knew. He would join with Zureeya and vote to save Onin's life. He would have her be trained by the village elders, and any expert warlocks that the tribe could find to bring in, if they could trust them, that was. Barati seemed to react positively to the idea of finding her Onin a teacher, one they could trust, as though she wasn't entirely won over by Zureeya's petition. The voices of the rest of the Elder council were then heard.
Barati spoke next, saying that previously she was undecided but leaning more towards ending the girl's life, but now she was in firm support of having her be trained...no matter the purpose, with a shaded glance at Zureeya which seemed to go unnoticed. Evidently, Morajae was not the only one who distrusted Zureeya and this connected the dots for him. Barati must have wanted to save Onin but didn't trust her training in the hands of Zureeya, or at the very least with Zureeya's oversight, and so, due to this, thought that the only option she could trust was to let them kill Onin, but Morajae voicing his opinion must have shown Barati that there would be someone to counter-balance Zureeya's influence over Onin's training. Sadly, the rest of the council were not so easily swayed.
Kruki, a middle-late aged troll and captain of the village guard, was one who was firmly against any idea of keeping Onin anywhere near the village. He had met warlocks before in his life, one nearly killed him. He believed that with warlocks, despite whatever facade may lie on the surface, a sinister viper lay just below and it was poised to strike the moment you lowered your guard.
Next came Juta, she was a mage of 45 years and a far more mellow person than Kruki or Zureeya, but her opinion was still that Onin could not be trusted to live in the village, that she was far too dangerous. Most warlocks, mages or even shamans may be quite or even very powerful once they reach adulthood and have been trained for many years, but that was just it. They achieve such great power once they have reached maturity and have trained for many years to harness their power. Or, in other words, when they were children their powers were quite weak, but they had the potential to grow and get stronger as they grew up. Onin was not like this, she had the powers of a warlock, mage or shaman who had trained for 30 years, all contained in the immature and unready body of a 7 year old child. This, as far as she knew, was unprecedented and so the outcome of trusting her to lively safely in the village could be catastrophic. Her view was painfully logical, Morajae knew it would take a miracle to convince her.
Barati stated that if Vanira were able to attend then this would have been her moment to speak. Morajae knew what her opinion would have been, support of Onin's training, but she was not here to voice her opinion and no assumptions of opinion could be made in the council in one member's absence, and so her voice went unheard. Morajae could tell by the odd satisfaction on Erko's face that he knew what Vanira's opinion would have been aswell, no doubt did all the others. And so, the final vote fell to the High Elder Larakko.
Without Larakko even speaking, Morajae knew that it was just as he feared, he had failed to sway the council. Morajae knew that the High Elder had been worn down tremendously over the past week, and simply wanted the endless arguing and debating to finally end, so he would follow the path of least resistence and vote in favour of the majority, if there was one, and bring a swift end to the debate. Larakko stayed silent for a few more moments, staring into the flames, no doubt comtemplating what he was about to say, what it meant, and the dire consequences it would have. Larakko took in a deep breath, before sighing. The tension in the room perked up, Morajae's hairs stood on end. Larakko said that the voting stood at 4 to 3, in favour of ending the child's life to protect the village, Morajae's heart dropped, and so the council had spoken, the girl must die.
There was a tense feeling in the room: Erko's and Kruki's heads rose in some sick sense of triumph; Morakki let out a long sigh as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders; Juta simply gave a curt nod which was neither here nor there; Barati's head droppped in defeat; and Zureeya turned her head to mutter a curse, and closed her hand into a fist.
Morajae was unsure of what to do next. He couldn't just let the council take Onin, he knew that she had the potential to be good...to bring prosperity to the tribe. But the council had spoken, he had been outvoted, so he had to follow the council's will. The council was the ruling body of their village, the people looked to them for guidance, so he couldn't just ignore the council and defy their wishes. It would lead to chaos. It is one thing for a random villager to defy the council's will, but for a member of the council itself to defy the rest's will? It was unheard of, and if a member of the council can defy their own ruling, then why could everyone else not do the same?
No, he had to find another way; some loop hole that he could exploit; or perhaps a way to delay the action to be taken from the council's ruling...he had to. So he spoke out. He asked the High Elder not for a pardon for Onin, but for a stay of execution. He reminded him that a blood-moon would come in 2 days time and that during such an event the spirits of the land would be quiet, at peace, and this would ease Onin's passing into the next life. Plus, it would at least be a pretty site to die to, as morbid as that sounded. Larakko was not an unkind man, and agreed to Morajae's request. Larrako then opened his mouth to speak but Morajae cut him off to ask him another request, this one far more questionable than the last. Morajae asked could he be the one to carry out the execution of Onin, and also be the one to choose the location of her execution. Larrako's gaze showed his inner-thoughts, he was questioning Morajae's motives...what was he planning? The High Elder finally asked him why he wanted to be the one to end the girl's life, when he had been the one fighting most vigorously to save her life. It didn't make any sense. Morajae thought for a moment, before replying. He said that, while no-one had asked him nor tasked him to look after Onin, he had made it his personal mission to help the girl. He saw from the very first day, 3 years ago, that she was an outcast. He saw that she was alone in the world; saw that darkness creeped towards her-to claim her for itself. This alone made him want to help her, but after seeking Vanira's guidance and learning that she had a great destiny before her; One that could mean their people returned to greatness; or their total collapse into nothingness. He was determined to make sure that her destiny was the more positive one, for her sake and their people's. He had made it his mission to ensure that she was rescued from darkness, and brought into the light where she would intergrate with the rest of her people and be alone no longer. He said that whatever your opinion may be on how well her intergration into their village went, they have all still ended up in this moment, discussing her life...condemning her to death. Morajae had made it his mission to ensure that Onin succeeded in all these things...but she had not. But, it was not Her failure that had brought them to this moment, it was Morajae's. It was His failure. His failure to help her, his failure to protect her from darkness, his failure to bring her into the light, his failure to ensure that she was a part of their village and not alone.
His failure had doomed her, given her a death sentence...It was only right that he who passes the sentence, should swing the sword...He owed her that much, to look his failure in the eyes. After hearing this, Larakko understood Morajae's motives and, after looking around the room and seeing no complaints, sanctioned this. He told Morajae that he would still need to be observed by a headhunter guard to ensure the execution was carried out, then asked him where it was he planned to have the execution. Morajae responded that he was unsure and would need time to think, Larakko stated that he had until sun-down to tell him a location, or the girl would be executed at high-noon the next day by a headhunter. He then called for a conclusion of this session, and the end of the week-long deliberation, and quickly exited the cave to face the mid-afternoon sun.
The rest of the council followed him out hastily and, after a few moments, Morajae was on his own in the cave. Morajae had meant what he said, he did believe that he had failed in his mission to help Onin, to save her. But he wasnt about to let Onin die. He sat for a few minutes, thinking. He had bought Onin some time, but also bought himself some time to think of a plan to save her. He thought about simply rushing down to the river hut where she was being held, and freeing her, and try to get her to safety. But he knew that even at his best, he would only barely be able to, if at all, take on the headhunters guarding her but he was not even at his best right now, still recovering from his injuries, so he stood no chance in besting them and would only be getting himself killed. He also knew that, morally, his plan made no sense. To answer the injustice of killing an innocent child with the injustice of killing multiple innocent soldiers? No, this was stupid either way. He thought about choosing a location which gave him the advantage, a location from where he would have the opportunity to free Onin and escape-into the jungle, perhaps? He sighed, no. This plan still resulted in him and Onin being hunted down by warriors who had trained, lived and fought in these jungles all throughout their adolescence and adulthood, it would be foolish to believe that he could escape them, especially with him being in the condition he was and with a child on his back as he ran. If he wanted to escape in that scenario, he would need to kill the headhunters from the beginning, or at the very least wound or incapacitate them to the point where they could not follow, and this only returned him to the moral argument of answering injustice with injustice. No, he needed a better plan. He needed guidance, he needed advice, from something greater than himself, that he could trust. So, he journeyed to the outskirts of the village, to his family's ancestor shrine. With him, he brought incense and offerings in hopes of getting the spirit's favour. Hell, he would need the loa spirits themselves to help him now, and get him out of this horrible situation, but he tried nonetheless. He lit the incense, placed the offerings, and began to meditate. With his mind, he called out to any who were listening, he asked for aid and guidance to help him find the right path. For something to show him the correct way forward, whether that be to kill to save Onin, or to simply stop fighting, and let death take her. He waited for a few minutes, meditating, until he felt something. Some presence that he could only feel through a sixth sense, and it put his body on edge, as though his primal instinct felt danger. He heard the wind whispering in a language he did not understand. Then, an image came into his mind. It was a view over the jungle, from some high-up position, and he believed he recognised it. Yes, he did. But why was he seeing this? Was this where he would find answers? He did not understand. But, then he noticed something in this image that was being thrust into his mind. This was not some point of view of a spirit from the past or the present. The blood moon was high in the sky, it was the middle of the night - 2 days from now. Morajae immediately understood, this was the time and place that Onin's execution must be held. There must be something there, an item or some other advantage that he could use, or perhaps something would happen there that would give Morajae and Onin a realistic opportunity for escape. The only problem being, this vision showed nothing of what this surprise element could be: no gleam of metal from a hidden item, no weather such as a storm that could give Morajae and Onin cover to escape...nothing. With his mind, he reached out once more into the beyond and asked for any more guidance that could be offered. A hint as to what the element could be, what could happen, that would allow him an opening to escape. He received nothing, only silence, as his response to this request. He sighed understanding that this was all the guidance he was getting, and thanked the spirits for the guidance he had received and lit one last candle, before leaving the shrine.
He made the walk to Larakko's hut in little time, gazing up at the evening sky just turning to its burnt orange hue that he loved so much. When he entered the hut, he found the High Elder resting on a reed and flower mattress, with his young grand-daughter sitting on his lap, asking him questions. Morajae could see that Larakko was putting on a happy face, but he was clearly quite fed up of talking, especially talking in response to a barrage of questions being fired at him that he was expected to answer. When he noticed Morajae standing in the opening, he jumped a little before asking his grand-daughter to run along back to the other children in the next hut over, leaving him and Morajae alone- silently staring at each other. Larakko broke the silence and, getting straight to the point, asked Morajae if he had decided where the girl's execution would be held. Morajae responded, saying that he had chosen the un-named hill overlooking the sea. It would be in full view of the blood-moon so at least Onin could pass during a time of beauty and wonder. Larakko accepted this and stated that he would organise a small group of headhunters to oversee the execution, Morajae gave a curt nod of understanding, and exited the hut.
On the walk back Morajae tried to relax, he had done as much as he could now. He just needed the spirits to play their part, or rather play the part he hoped they were going to play. That thought still unnerved him, the spirits may be trying to help him secure Onin's life but they may very well simply be punishing Morajae for daring to try to save Onin. Perhaps she was dangerous, perhaps Morajae was making the wrong choice and the spirits were punishing him for making the decision to try to save her, by defying the council's will no less. The spirits, and the Loa beyond, were known for crafting creative ways of punishing those they saw fit for punishment, perhaps they were leading Morajae on, giving him more and more hope of saving Onin just to dash those hopes...by having her killed. No, by having Morajae himself be the one to kill her...a very poignant lesson, indeed.
No, he couldn't afford to think like this. He had to be confident that he was making the right choice, that the spirits were on his side. It is said that people can doubt someone as much as they like and have affect or difference on the outcome, but when that person begins to doubt themselves, they are lost.
He had to remain steadfast in his belief in the spirits.
Abanip was roaming around on Argus with the other imps. It was just the same as any other day on a Legion world: explosions, screaming, screeching, fel fire, fel fire, more fel fire. He was running through an old burnt out and petrified forest with his imp siblings, chasing down the panthara cubs and trying to burn their knee-caps off...good times. But on this hunt, something was off, he could hear something that none of the other imps could hear, it sounded like crying. His first thoughts were of expletive confusion, until he realised the sound was coming from inside his head, and he could feel...something. Like there was something out there, in the great dark beyond, that was calling to him through the twisting nether: reaching for him; drawing him closer, closer...closer. Until eventually it was close enough to grasp at him! In the blink of an eye, he was no longer in his usual fiery domain but instead was in some dark place. His eyes took a few moments to focus but once they did he saw that he was in some small structure about five times his height (though that wasnt exactly much all in all) made of wood and cloth with weird markings on it, and there was a faint orange glow coming from the other side of the small hut. Once his eyes had taken in what was in front of him, his ears finally caught up and detected the same crying sound that he had heard before whinding up here, except this time the sound wasn't inside his head, it was coming from next to him. So, in a confusing mixture of fear and curiosity, he slowly turned his head...and saw a blue skinned kid sitting by a dull orange fire, surrounded by stones. He nearly jumped from the shock but managed to compose himself, he had a reputation to live up-to after all. Abanip quickly realised that the girl was a troll...aaaand he was on Azeroth. Further mental expletives followed suite. He would have said them out loud but he'd realised that the girl hadn't noticed him yet, and he'd rather not go about yelling while theres a kid next to him - who knows how she'll react! She could bring a whole bunch of angry trolls down on him and he'd learnt from other demons that if trolls are famous for anything? Its their spears, their very very pointy spears.
So, Abanip, unsure what to do next, just sorta...stood there, watching. The girl was lying on her side, her back to the fire with her face looking into the shadowy corner of her room. He wanted to solve the mystery of how the hell he ended up here before he alerted her to his presence, preferrably without having to alert her at all.
The mystery solved itself. Abanip heard the girl, she wasn't just crying but she was saying something aswell, something quiet and raspy as though she'd been talking to the corner of the room for hours. Abanip dared step closer and heard her, she was asking why it was her? Why she had to be alone forever? It was her fault, but they didn't care? Why...can't someone just be her friend?
Then it all clicked together in his mind. It was her. As he knew, she was the crying he had heard, but she was also the whispering...and the reaching, the calling, that had brought him here. This troll, this kid troll, whether she realised it or not, she had used whatever power she had to reach out into the twisting nether, through the Great Dark Beyond, all the way to Argus and in her confusion and sadness...her desperation for a friend - she found him and brought him here. All without even realising. She just reached out with her mind into the darkness and dragged him here.
It...it was insane! He knew there were mortals in the universe capable of such things, yeah, but they had always been trained, they're whole lives. Trained to become Master Summoners but even then with all that training, they had never had the power to rip a demon right from Argus, the damn homeworld of the Burning Legion. But this kid! Well, she was just that. A KID! NO TRAINING AND SHE DAMN WELL WASN'T EVEN TRYING! DIDN'T EVEN REALISE SHE WAS DOING IT! She...just did it.
Eventually, his racing mind calmed down and cooled off. Welp, only one thing left to do now and that is to just accept fate and deal with whatever kind of Dark Master, child prodigy he had been summoned by. So, he tapped her on the shoulder and got her attention.
She jumped a little when she felt his prodding in her back and slowly turned around to face him. Her eyes were all puffy and red from all the crying she had been doing but eventually she saw what was in front of him and jumped in a panic, scooching along the rug to the corner of the hut. Abanip, smooth as ever, just said hi, said his name and waved at her. The girl wanted to scream, to yell for help, but it was as though something was holding her back...and then she just looked down at the ground and fell back into her previous dark and depressed state, then lay back down on the rug. Now Abanip was the confused one, how could she not care that there was an imp standing right behind her? Even if she didn't know what he was, anyone would be scared or at least confused if some weird green creature was in their room. Then Abanip had another wave of understanding. It was exactly that, she didn't care, not at all. She was alone, crying in the corner of a dark and barely lit room with no windows or any other let for outside light or warmth, and, when she was scared, she wanted to cry for help but she stopped herself as though she knew no one was there or, worse still, they were there but she knew they wouldn't care...what happened to her? What had she, a child, done to ward people off her so much? What Could she have done to deserve to be trapped in a small dark room on her own?...Why did he even care anyway? He's an imp, a soldier of the Burning Legion. He sighed, he didn't know why but he cared. Perhaps she was using some kind of binding on him without even realising it or perhaps he just had a soft spot for her and her situation.
Either way, he clearly wasn't going anywhere soon, not without her help anyway, so he might aswell try to get through to her. He prodded her on the back again, asking her whats up? Why are you crying? And why the hell are you in this dark hut? Clearly, she wasn't in a very talkative mode but Abanip wasn't about to take no for an answer, or...no answer for an answer, he thought. He needed to try and get her attention, somehow get her to talk and open up to him, if not to sate his own need to help her then at least it would be the first step in getting back to Argus. So, he told that his name was Abanip, he was a imp, and that he was just wandering around on his world when she brought him here, whether she realised it or not. That last bit got her attention to be sure as she sprung up and expressedher shock and confusion, asking what he meant that she brought him here. He told her that while he was on his world he could hear crying that was simultaneously miles away and yet right next to him, and that he could feel something calling and reaching for him until he blinked and then he was here in the hut with her. He told her that, without even realising it, she had summonded him here, conveniently leaving out the part that for her to have that kind of inert power and ability was insane. She didn't believe that she could do that and that he must be mistaken, that something else must have brought him here. But Abanip could feel it, a connection. One that grew stronger and more apparent the longer he was with her. They were connected, their souls were linked possibly by some deeper force or perhaps it was just random chance, but she reached out and grabbed him. He knew it was her who had brought him here, no doubt about it.
The girl had an unsure look on her face and the way she shuffled showed Abanip that she wanted to just shrink away from whatever problem she had created. She just wanted to go back to lying in the dark corner far away from the rest of the world but Abanip could also see that her curiosity and perhaps a deeper feeling to help him drove her to stay up and with him. But, before she could continue their conversation, there was movement outside the hut, footsteps. He turned to face the door but the girl quickly but silently grabbed him and shoved him underneath a woven basket and hid him there but before Abanip had a chance to get out, he heard the door to the hut open and another enter. The other silently threw an object on the ground before the girl and then left the room, sealing the door behind him. Silence perforated his mind for a few moments, before the girl shuffled over and removed the basket from his head indicating that the other was gone and they were clear. Through a series of expletives, Abanip showed how much he appreciated being shoved under a basket, before sarcastically thanking her for hiding him so securely, she shot him a stare back. That little event was a sharp reminder of what he had realised earlier, she was imprisoned in there. This hut was her cell. He looked over to where the other had thrown whatever he had came in here to bring and saw a bowl with a cooked chunk of meat in it. That other must have been a guard, probably still somewhere nearby, and this was one of her meals for the day, just dropped in and out as fast as possible.
But there was something else, the fact that he had thrown the bowl from the doorway, and had been in and out the room as fast as he possibly could all suggested that he the other didn't just dislike her, but he feared her. Feared her to the point that he did what he had been tasked to do from as far a distance as possible and stayed in vague contact with her for as little time as possible. Then there was also the fact that Abanip and the girl had been talking, and Abanip never knew there was a guard there so he wasn't exactly keeping his voice down the whole time and not once had that guard heard him or the girl talking, nor had Abanip heard him wandering around outside. How? Why?
The answer to his questions was simply that the guard can't hear you, and you can't hear them, when said guard is as far away from his prisoner's cell as he possibly could be. He was terrified of her, even while she's stuck in her cell/hut. So, this chain of thought brought him back to where he started - What has this kid done to make everyone around her so afraid of her?
He debated with himself whether he should ask now or not but his eagerness to just hurry up and find out got the better of him and he asked her...what happened? But, as his better judgement feared, she retreated back into her corner and sunk down into the dark again. He thought he'd lost her again but then she spoke up: she told him about how her village had been burnt; how she'd been left alone except by one elder in the village; how she heard whispers telling her what to do; how she could see shadows dance and crawl towards her; how she had been afraid after she had been caught doing what the shadows told her; and how she was afraid of what the village people would do to her so she lashed out without even wanting to and hurt a lot of people.
Abanip felt her pain: her sadness, her emptiness, her loneliness. He could feel it all. Then she said that it didn't matter anymore. He kind of stumbled over his words at that point, confused by what she meant. She responded saying that the village elders had decided that she needed to die, that she was a threat to the village...a dark, evil monster. The way she said all this scared Abanip, she didn't say it with fear or anger, just in a monotone voice - no emotion whatsoever. She had accepted her fate. He didn't know what to say, so the room fell silent for a while. He realised in this gnawing silence that he hadn't even asked her name, he had been so focused on solving his and her problems and understanding where he was, that he hadn't slowed down to ask her. She responded saying that her name was Onin. He thought it was a nice name.
Abanip occassionally spoke to her after this but it was only over a few exchanged sentences. He tried acting as a fool to cheer her up, and played little tricks with his fire but she only smiled or giggled a little before falling back into the dark. So, he decided to try to press forward with his plan to try and help her send him back to the twisting nether. She replied that she would be happy to help him get away from here, even if she couldn't. They worked together with Abanip trying to help her understand her powers, he attempted to get her to push him away - to use her powers to send him back from whence he came. He told her to try and imagine the shadows swirling around him, make her move the twisting nether around him and push him back, make him fade into the darkness. After a few hours of attempting this, Abanip could feel himself being pushed back, like some force was forcing him backwards and he could feel the nether around him, drawing him back. After a few more attempts, she eventually managed to get so close to sending him back that he could feel himself slipping away from the material plane, before he stopped her. The shock of which sent Onin sprawling and left Abanip to fall flat on his face. She quickly got up and ran over to him to pick his face up out of the fur rug and yell at him, confused and annoyed as to why he would interrupt her. He simply stated that she didn't know how to call him back. She seemed taken aback by this, she said that she didn't realise he would ever want to come back, she said she thought that he just wanted to leave, he had a home to return to. He, rather embarrassingly, told her that he had grown quite fond of her, attached to her in both body and soul and was felt quite compelled to help her as much as he could plus she was a pretty nice to him, treated him better than he could expect someone in her psoition to. She seemed stunned and shocked by this confession and nervously asked him if what he wanted was to stay with her and be her friend...at least, until the end. He replied that they were connected and that her end wasn't going to for a loooong time, not if he had anything to say about it.
So began the next phase of Abanip's strange little tutelage of Onin. Teaching Onin how to summon him was decidedly easier than teaching her how tto dismiss him considering she had already summoned him once before, it was how he ended up in here in the first place after all. He taught her that she needed to calm and clear her mind, and focus. He told her to forget where she was, to forget what she was doing - just let the whole world fall away around her...and reach out. Reach out with her mind into the Great Dark Beyond, into the Twisting Nether itself. She responded that she didn't know what that was or how to "reach" with her mind. He gave her the best summary he could. He explained in the simplest terms he could, for a 7 year old, that the Great Dark Beyond was like a void of empty space where shadows lingered, and that the twisting nether was like a broken reality - a place of shadows like a fractured and broken reflection of her world. He told her that to reach out, she just needed to imagine it. She needed to feel it for it was all around her, in every shadow. She had done it countless times before, whether it be in her dreams or just while wandering around. Find the shadows, call out to the darkness...and find him.
She tried doing as he asked, she reached out as best she could to find this "Twisting Nether". She tried to feel this world beyond her own. Abanip could see her expression change, her closed eyes twitching and wincing like something was flickering in-front of her, but it was something only her mind could see and feel, and her body could only vaguely detect it. Abanip could feel the air getting colder. He could see the shadows, from the faintly burning fire, stretching towards her like spectral arms reaching for her...and then he felt it. Something dark, something scary dark. Then the dim fire slowly but surely went out...and then entire room was bathed in darkness. He cast a small fel fire bolt on the log fire, unsure of what has happening. The room, now lit in a bright green hue, felt smaller and more claustrophobic than before. He looked up at Onin and saw her face was a contorted showing of fear. He didn't know what she was seeing, or what it was, what it was doing, but he knew it was nothing good. He called out to her, asking her to listen to his voice and come back from the dark but she didn't even react in the slightest, she couldn't hear him. Her breathing was becoming heavier by the moment, yet faster and faster, until, suddenly, the door to the hut blew open, flying off and smashing into the wall off the hut, and then the wind came in, howling! Only, it wasn't a howl. It was a roar, a deep, stomach churning roar! Onin screamed, suddenly back in the material plane. Her eyes shot open, blood-shot with dilated pupils. She was terrified of what she had seen, whatever had just managed to blow the door in from half-a-universe and an alternate reality away. He leapt over to her and tried to comfort her, and ask her what she had seen. She could only get out a few words out between heavy breaths.
She said Monster...teeth...hooves...fire. Abanip's first thought was that while she was reaching out, she must have accidently latched onto some doomguard or other creature, must have tried to drag it here like she did him. Only, he was an imp - small and not that powerful, especially in comparison to a beast like a doomguard. Abanip was immediately sucked through without much warning but something as powerful as a doomguard would have sensed Onin's reaching coming, through the nether, and easily defended himself, even from a warlock as inertly powerful as Onin, then struck back at her, tracing and following her scent through the Twisting Nether.
After a few minutes, Onin had calmed down. Her breathing finally returning to normal. This was quite the experience for both of them. He told her that he would need to help her work on this whole process over the next few weeks, make it a priority. He didn't want something like that happening again. But, there was something Abanip didn't tell her then. That now that, presumed, doomguard had her scent, he may well attempt to come after her, find her, and punish her for attempting to control him. He didn't tell her partially because he didn't want to scare her but mostly because he didn't get a chance. A few seconds after saying that he would need to help her over the coming weeks, she reminded him of what they had spoken about during her training. That she was to be executed for her "crimes" during the blood moon at sun-down, in a day and a half's time. He told her not to worry, he had a plan.
Over the next day and a half, Abanip jumped in and out of that hut needing to disappear every time her jailer showed up with food to throw at her again. Onin really did master that ability of summoning over that next day, she really did not want a repeat of her encounter with the demon of her nightmares, so that Abanip could just be dismissed and summoned as Onin pleased or when she needed him gone for a few minutes.
The night air was humid and stifling, the light from the torches sconces dotted around the village paled in comparison to the raw-red of the blood moon. Morajae stood in the centre of the village, staring up at it and wondering what powers created such an eerie event. His attention turned to the path before him and the 3 headhunter guards gathered there, sent to escort him to the sight of the execution on the unnamed hill. He wondered if these men were friend or foe, did they wish to see Onin die like Erko and Kruki? Or were they merciful like Bati and himself? He did not know, nor did it matter now. He met with them and attempted to exchange pleasantries with them but received only silence, before walking with them down the jungle path. He was twitching, nervous. He still couldn't be sure what the spirits intended for him and/or Onin on that hill, blood moon in-sight. He had to hope it would be good, for if not then he knew what he would have to do. The walk along the path took only 10 or so minutes but it felt like hours. He couldn't stop looking at his guards, at their faces. They were hidden behind the traditional masks of the headhunters - their faces concealed, their eyes hidden in shadow. They made him more nervous than any thoughts he had.
Eventually they reached the hill where he found another 8 headhunters, positioned in various places around the small hill, Morakki, elder and captain of the guard, Larakko, high elder, and finally Onin, surrounded by 4 of the 8 guards with their spears trained on her. He looked at Morakki and saw his gaze clearly focused on Onin in a mixture of fear and anticipation before turning it onto Morajae, with the same focus. Morajaebelieved he understood why he received such a cold welcoming from his escort guards, and why he felt so on edge on the walk here. They had been told by Morakki to expect action, whether it be from Onin or Morajae, himself, attempting to free her and so they treated him with a degree of hostility. He knew they had nothing to fear, whatever happened now was in the spirits hands and what they decided for Morajae would be the course they would take now.
He waited for a moment, half-expecting...hoping that something would happen, perhaps Larakko had a change of heart, but his expression remained sullen and empty, or perhaps by some miracle Morakki had changed his mind, but the same expression remained on his face. Larakko asked Morajae to step closer to him, he complied and the high elder pushed an axe into his hands. He held it, his arms felt like dead weights and his legs felt as though they would collapse from under him...but he held out. He looked down at the tool of death in his hands, he saw the engravings along its shaft with depictions of the loa spirits, ancestors, and the shadowlands that lay beyond. He glanced around one last time, still holding on to that last spark of hope that something would happen...but there was nothing. The only sounds were the crackling of the torches in their sconces, and of Morajae's breath. He turned to face the make-shift headman's stump then looked to Morakki and nodded. Morakki gave the order and 4 guards brought Onin forward, pushing her down onto the stump. Morajae looked down at her, expcting to see sadness or fear on her face but instead saw something which he could quite understand. Was it anger? Disdain? No...it was confidence and resolution! His mind raced trying to understand her, clearly she was confident and clear that she was not going to die here...but how? Then, she closed her eyes.
The torch fires shifted, as though a gust of wind had blown through it, and the shadows danced and stretched and shifted, moving towards Onin. What was she doing? Surely she didn't think that she could escape from here? Then, he heard a cackle and a crackle. He looked over a saw an imp standing on a nearby rock, its hand lit on fire and threw a fireball at the group which exploded on the ground a mere few feet away from him. It then leapt from the rock, landing in the middle of the group, and proceeding to continue throwing firebolts at the group causing everyone to duck for cover. Morajae saw Onin getting up from the stump and running over to the imp, with the creature throwing one last bolt in Larakko's direction before turning and running with Onin to the edge of the hill.
They didn't get far. One of the headhunters tossed a small bola at the two would-be escapees, entrapping them both in the snare. The other headhunters then quickly leapt into action, grabbing the two of them. One of the guards jabbed the imp with a sleep dart, from which he quickly went unconscious, and two others grabbed Onin, who was kicking and screaming as she was dragged away from the imp. She was calling out to it, desperate to get back to him...she was worried about her friend. Morajae could only close his eyes in sadness as she guards brought her back to the headman's stump and held her there until she finally calmed down. When Morajae walked back to the stump, axe in hand, and looked down at Onin, he no longer saw confidence and strength but instead now saw sadness and depressed acceptance. His body was shaking as he raised the axe high into the air, now truly understanding that the spirits had not brought him here to save Onin by some miracle or twist of fate. They had only brought him here to watch her die, to be her killer. The one to end his failure with the soul-crushing swing of an axe. He held the axe over his head but, before he had a chance to swing, an explosion of immense size rocked the ground beneath them and a great plume of fire erupted from the village. All attention turned to face the great fireball that now loomed over them but as Morajae went to take a step toward the fire an object flew past him, just barely grazing his cheek, before embedding itself in the chest of one of the headhunters. Morajae ducked down and looked toward the now impaled guard and saw a spear protruding from his chest...no, not a spear. It was a trident! Morajae knew what this meant.
The headhunters immediately sprung into action, turning to face the naga that were now slithering towards them from the cover of the jungle. Another trident flew from the clawed hands of one of the insidious creatures, with one of the headhunters skillfully parrying it in mid-air with his own spear. Another headhunter ran to the high elder to escort him safely away. Morajae took his chance and ran to Onin, grabbing her before running down to headhunter and the high elder. Onin was screaming in fear, terrified of the naga-the same creatures who had once burnt her village and killed her parents. She was reaching out towards her imp-friend. Morajae toyed with the idea of going back for the imp but before he could make a decision, the unconscious imp vanished into thin air leaving Morajae with the only option left and that was to keep running with the headhunter. They needed to get away from this fight. Onin calmed down after seeing the imp disappear, as though she knew it meant he was fine, Morajae didn't have time to question it and just had to keep running. Down the hill they went towards the, now burning, village. They could see people running scared, naga chasing them everywhere. None of them: himself; the high elder; nor the headhunter knew what to do. The naga had never attacked such a large settlement, they had always stuck to the coast line. The headhunter said that they should just try and signal any of the villagers and get them to come to their position, at the edge of the village, to flee into the thicket to safety. The elders listened to his order, rank and file no longer mattering, and the headhunter ran into the burning village to help the defence efforts with the other headhunters, and spread the word that they were regrouping on the eastern side of the village.
So the 2 elders and the 7 year old girl began their efforts to wave down any of the villagers they could over the next hour, gathering dozens of villagers and having them run into the jungle and find any clearing they could, there was no time to scout out a suitable place.
It was chaos, villages were running around like headless chicken trying to find any safety. The Naga were playing with them, waiting nearby the path to the two elders and picking off any troll they wanted and letting the others through.
Eventually, they had gathered all the villagers they could until the only living souls in the village were the headhunters and the attacking naga. The headhunters were slowly falling back towards Morajae's position, Naga in tow. Morajae, the High Elder and Onin all finally fell back into the jungle aswell, running at a slow pace as Larakko was old and Morajae was carrying Onin on his back. After a few minutes they eventually ran into a clearing where dozens of the trolls had gathered...but it was all pointless, all their efforts in vain. They knew the Naga had watched them fleeing the village, they knew the monsters had let them go, but they couldn't understand why, nor did they have the time to try to. But now Morajae understood, the naga knew the direction they were running and simply moved to cut them off. The Naga picked off whoever they wanted in the village and let the rest through to what they believed was safety...like lambs to the slaughter, and Morajae had ran straight into their trap. The elders and child were soon after followed by the retreating headhunters who were being chased by the Naga...there was nowhere left to run. The headhunters created a shield wall around the villagers, desperately trying to protect them from the encroaching Naga. Realising their prey was now trapped, the monsters lowered their tridents and slowly encircled them, their snake tongues licking their lips in anticipation of the slaughter that was coming.
The terrified trolls huddled together, awaiting the inevitable. Morajae tried to make sense of it all. The spirits had lead him to that hillside overlooking the village, in full view of the blood moon - they wanted him to be there with Onin, but why? He thought there would be some opportunity to save her, that something would happen that would change her fate...but nothing like this. He thought the spirits may have wanted to teach him a lesson: do not defy the council's wishes; do not break faith with the spirits, and so for even thinking of defying the council he would be punished by being the one to execute her...but this...this was something else entirely. Did the spirits truly wish to see the absolute annihilation of his village? Of all its people? Why...what had they done that deserved such a fate...he looked down at Onin, what had she done that deserved this fate, she was innocent. He looked around at all the scared faces of his people, none of them deserved this fate. Onin looked back up at him, meeting his gaze, and hugged him like a daughter to a father. His heart warmed and little tears appeared in this eyes.
Onin's little imp friend also reappeared and tried to say something that sounded like it would have been an apology, no doubt for failing in whatever plan he had to save her. He never got a chance to finish that apology as Onin grabbed him and hugged him tightly and told him that she was thankful that he had been her friend, even if it had only been for a brief few days. Morajae smiled, before his face hardened. He looked back up at the naga who were still encircling their group: savouring every moment; embracing the scent of their fear. Morajae felt a deep resolve within himself that he had not felt in years. It was not a resolve to live, that time had passed. It was a deep resolve to stand up straight and powerful: he would no longer cower; he would no longer bow to the whims of the spirits. If he was going to die then he would die fighting the monsters of this world.
He knew that he had never been much of a fighter, even in his younger years, so when he asked for a spare blade from one of the defending headhunters, he told his fellow trolls that what they were about to witness wouldn't be pretty, nor glorious. He saw a few more resolute faces, who stood up to stand alongside him, other faces managed a smile. That's all he could ask for; a smile in the face of death. Amongst those painfully smiling faces, he saw Vanira who was sitting down - leaning on a small rock, still recovering from her injuries but at the very least she was conscious before the end. He knew she would never have wanted to die without, at least, being able to stare her foe in the eyes. He turned and walked to the front-line with the other villagers, men and women he had lived and worked alongside for all of his life, to stand with the headhunters who had fought for and defended their village all his life. He found himself standing alongside Morakki, Kruki and Bati: Rivals; friends; enemies. Together in the end.
Morakki gave a rallying cry for the darkspear then blew his war horn. But to everyone, on both sides, surprise, a second war horn was heard, from the jungle to the east, like an answer to Morakki's call. Then they heard it. The sounds of dozens if not hundreds of feet, like a rolling thunder coming straight towards them. Accompanying the thunderous feet were the war-cries of hundred and trolls...and something else. Then from the thicket they leapt, hundreds of trolls and orcs! Their rallying cry was more than a spark of hope, it was a damn forest fire. A fire that would burn the Naga where they stood. The Naga, who had previously circled and trapped the villagers, were now themselves trapped between angry villagers and bloodthirsty, vengeful warriors.
With one final blow of his horn, Morakki lead the charge of villagers against the Naga before them, cutting half the Naga off from the rest of their force and crushing them between the two forces of village trolls, and the attacking trolls and orcs.
It was a slaughter, the trapped Naga were utterly defeated and the others either tried to help their people and were cut down, or simply ran for their lives.
After the fighting was finally over, a few dozen naga were dead...but so were some trolls. 7 headhunters had lost their lives and Morajae saw that Zureeya, Erko and Kruki, of the elder council, were also dead, alongside 3 other villagers. All had taken up arms to defend their people and their sacrifice would not be forgotten, it was noticed that Kruki had died to some kind of lash of shadow magic and no one could say where that came from...
The surviving elders: Morakki; Morajae; Larakko; the recovering Vanira; Bati; and Juta, all went to meet the leaders of their troll and orc saviours. The trolls stood side by side with their orc counterparts but one orc stepped forward and introduced himself as Thrall, son of Durotan, of the Frostwolf clan of orcs. Larakko spoke for the group, expressing his deepest gratitude to them for saving their lives. The wise orc smiled and said that he was happy to help. Morajae thought that these were not the same orcs that had come to their world 20 years ago, they were ferocious but kind. Thrall explained that there had been many naga attacks on darkspear territory throughout the jungle and that he had even come to the aid of the Darkspear Chieftain, Vol'jin. The elders were shocked to hear all of this. Thrall asked the elders to bring their people with them back to their camp further north, where they could be with the rest of their people and their Chieftain. The elders replied that their village was gone so, once they buried their dead, they would of course come with the Orc.
Hours later, the people of the village left their ruined homes behind and journeyed north with their new orc friends and fellow trolls. Morajae travelled with Onin and her imp-friend who he had now learnt was named Abanip, a strange name indeed. Morajae said that they travelled together like some makeshift family, with the imp being their weird little pet. The imp was riled by this comment and started screeching and yelling in feigned aggression, making Morajae and Onin laugh together. It was nice, Morajae had never had a family of his own so, looking down at Onin, he thought this could be the start of something new. He asked Onin if, once they arrived at wherever they were going, would she like to live with him. Her expression darkened immediately, clearly he had overestimated her happiness. She said that she knew he had always tried to look after her which she had appreciated, greatly, but she asked was she not still going...to die? How could he have forgotten? He immediately gathered the surviving elders of the council and held a makeshift meeting on the path-side. Larakko invited the orc, Thrall, to join them in this meeting. He was a leader after all, and if they were travelling together like this then he ought to be involved.
The elders explained the situation with Onin: they told him what had happened; how they had voted previously and why; how she was perhaps the most powerful warlock they had ever known; but also how the voting dynamic regarding her fate had changed with the return of Vanira and the deaths of Zureeya, Kruki and Erko. Thrall fell into deep, contemplative thought. Morajae thought that he was definitely a different kind of orc from those who came before him, far more of a thinker than his predecessors. It was another few minutes before Thrall returned to them with an answer. He said that he understood the elders fears and anxieties, he and his people had experienced their own share of horror and pain at the hands of warlocks, he understood how dangerous and threatening they could be. Morajae's heart sunk, Thrall would be against letting Onin live. He must believe she will be too dangerous because of his own past...Thrall continued, saying that despite his understanding of their fears, and his own past experiences, he still believed that no one was ever born evil. He said that you choose your own destiny, you choose to be good or evil. Its just that sometimes people don't get to see the option of being good, believing that their only choice is to follow a dark path. He looked to the council and said that if they showed Onin the light, showed her the path of good, then she would follow it...he knew it.
With that testimony, the high elder nodded and called for another vote. Morakki was shocked by this, saying that her fate had already been decided, but Larakko cut him off with more determination and resolve than Morajae had seen from him back in the Elder's cave in the, now destroyed, village. Larakko stated that times had changed, their situation and current position had changed. This warranted another vote. Morakki consented but firmly stated that his position had not changed - he said that she would no doubt lose control again at some point further down the line when she was stronger and would cause even more havoc than she did the last time. She needed to die. The rest of the council followed, each stating their previous opinion: Juta, ever the logical one, believed that due to her unprecedented power Onin could be a threat to everyone, there were too many opportunities for things to go wrong and for catastrophe to occur; Bati, Morajae and Vanira stated that they were in support for Onin to be trained, they believed that if given proper training, with propoer precautions in place, then she could become a great boon for the darkspear people. She just needed to shown the correct path. Thrall nodded, curtly. The council already knew his position - she could be trusted if shown the proper course, which Morajae, Bati and Vanira had echoed. To some surpirise, even Larakko spoke. Morajae believed that he had finally gained the will to stand up for himself, instead of cowering before the will of Morakki. He spoke out, clearly stating what had already been decided by the voting, but it mattered all the same. He would not be killing an innocent child, in fear of the shadow of what she Might one day become, if they for some absurd reason decided not to help her in anyway. Morakki had an offended look on his face and Juta simply nodded, always willing to follow the council's wishes.
And so it was decided, the voting had finished 2:5 in favour of saving Onin's life and training her. Morajae breathed a heavy sigh of relief, he had not failed her in the end. Vanira smiled at him, knowing that he had tried to so hard to save her, more than any other in the council. He gave one final request to the council, would be allowed to bring Onin into his care directly, as her ward. Larakko glanced around the room and saw no objections, aside from Morakki's glare, and so decided that if she accepted his proposal then Morajae would be allowed to care for her.
Morajae quickly departed the make-shift council area and found Onin. He told her that great news that the council had overturned their previous vote. She would be allowed to live and train amongst her people. Her face lit up like the sun and her eys beamed, before she rushed Morajae and gave him the greatest, warmest hug - thanking him for all he had done for her. He then gave her the simple question, would she like to live with him? She could even bring her imp friend so long as he promised not to burn anything. She was hesitant at first, but then quickly agreed.
The rest of their lives together were a blur. Then eventually met with the rest of their people at the Orc camp, they even got to meet their Chieftain Vol'jin. They were all told that they were leaving Stranglethorn behind, forever, and would be journeying across the sea to the far off lands of Kalimdor. At this point, many trolls, despite their history here, were happy to leave this place behind for good and move onto bigger and better things...with the Horde. They were proud to be amongst their saviours and heroes. These were people who were ferocious and monstrous to their enemies, but kind and warm to their friends and allies. The trolls were happy, and proud, to finally be safe and amongst people who treated them as equals. This was the dawn of a new age for the Darkspear tribe, and Onin would be at the forefront to experience it all.
They eventually left Stranglethorn and, after weeks of voyaging across the sea in stolen human ships, they eventually arrived on Kalimdor, in the lands that would one day be called Durotar, in honour of Thrall's father. It was here the Darkspear trolls made their home, and Onin's training began. It took years of practice and hard work to finally expand upon and master her powers but with help and support from her ward-father Morajae, her little friend Abanip and her teacher Voldreka, a warlock from Vol'jin's troupe - she succeeded, though there were some failures and hiccups along the way, nothing disasterous.
Eventually, when Onin was 17, her father, Morajae, died of old age at 72. The time he spent with Onin, helping her and raising her, were the best years of his life. He died happy, knowing that he had saved her and that she would no doubt go on to fulfill the greater part of Vanira's prophecy from when she was 4 years old. "She will be the key to the survival and prosperity of the darkspear tribe". He had no doubts about it, he knew it...
After his death, Onin finished her training with Voldreka and then set out with her imp friend, Abanip - to see the world and bring glory and prosperity to the Darkspear tribe. She would ensure its survival by growing stronger, by fighting any who would threaten her people. She would fight for the Darkspear, she would fight for The Horde.