This is set approximately 3 months after the 43rd chapter of Reawakening. If that's not weird and specific, I don't know what is.
To those who haven't ready my other stories, this one is set 100 years in the future of WoW, and many things are different, such as Horde/Alliance squabbles are all but over, and it's somewhat peaceful between factions. To an extent, people from any race can travel anywhere, at least with the right parameters.
"Let me get this straight," the human mumbled as he drummed two fingers on the edge of his windowsill, staring out into the city's stone streets one story below. A few slow seconds ticked by, and he turned his gaze back to the tall, swarthy half-elf standing in his kitchen. "My siblings and I don't see you for...how long has it been? Six years? Seven?" He removed his hand from the sill. "And the first thing you request upon your return is...money?"
Levianath took a step forward in response to the question, an impish edge to his demeanor, and he held out his hands to his sides.
"Ah, Jonas, I am hurt you hold me in such poor regard," the half-elf clicked his tongue. His green eyes flashed. "Money's not the only thing I'm after, big brother."
Jonas stiffened. "You're no brother of mine, Levianath."
"No? We share a mother, do we not?"
"You never knew her," the human spat back, now quite hostile. "Leave my kitchen, and take your damned demon with you."
Levianath stole a glance down at Pip'tai, his imp who was standing near his ankle, currently fixated on a knot in the floorboards. Still holding a curled smirk at one corner of his thin lips, the man glanced up and let his dark-yet-glowing eyes flick about the room.
"This is a nice kitchen. You seem to be doing quite well for yourself, brother. I'm curious; how did you come into this wealth? Did you get all of this from our grandmother?"
The sable-haired human inflated again, looking about to explode now as his ears began to redden. "Get out," he pointed a long finger at the door, which Levianath had left wide open.
The Warlock didn't move. "Now, I feel we started off on the wrong foot here," he said calmly, keeping his smirk, and he stepped forward again. "All I want to know is where you're getting all the money. I feel like it's only fair I inherit my share of whatever it is my siblings receive."
"Like I said," Jonas stumbled over those words as Levianath took another step forward, but he did hold his ground. "You're no sibling of mine or theirs. You get nothing."
Levianath came to a slow stop in front of his older brother, peering down at the human with a pert stare. "Just think of what our mother would say if she saw you now."
The human simply glared, unable to generate words through his irritation. He visibly cringed when Levianath reached two fingers out and gathered a stray hair off of Jonas's shoulder, picking it up between his thumb and index and inspecting it, before setting it free in a wayward descent toward the floor.
"I've already spoken to our sisters," Levianath hummed, folding his hands together behind his back and turning on his heel, walking a small circle around the human. Once he'd gone halfway, he stopped, squinting a moment. "They both said to come to you. Mentioned something about an inheritance. And, well, you're the oldest, so I suspected you'd have what I'm looking for."
"You deserve absolutely none of it," Jonas snapped.
Levianath brightened. "Aha! So there is an inheritance! Good to know!" He walked back around to face his half-brother, leaning in close. "Now, if you'll just tell me where I can find it, I'll be out of your hair. Which you're losing by the way. Age does not become you, Jonas."
Jonas, fuming, glared ahead. "It's not even here. We haven't gotten all of it yet."
"So you're telling me our sweet, dear old grandmother still has it?" Levianath smirked. "And here I momentarily deemed you a worthy crook."
"I'm not a crook."
"But you're stealing her money, yes? Does this not make you one?"
Jonas stiffened. "Who told you we were stealing it?"
"No one had to tell me; it was obvious. Grandmother hasn't yet croaked, and I know how impatient you are."
Laughing to himself at the flustered expression on his half-brother's face, the Warlock sauntered back to the other side of the kitchen, nearing the archway that led through a short hall to the still-open door. He paused in it, turning back around.
"I do hope you lead a fulfilling life, brother. As short as I pray it may be."
With that he turned and left, beckoning Pip'tai to follow after him.
Levianath walked through the Stormwind streets toward the city gates, drawing his dark hood over his ink-black hair to shield from rain that had begun to fall in the past few minutes. His eyes shimmered a fel green, their light shining out into the rain, and his boots hit the stone beneath them in sharp beats as he kept his pace reasonably fast. He didn't care about rain; it didn't bother him in the slightest. But he did care about taking what he deserved, and that's what he was going to do.
After walking through the slowly-darkening Elwynn forests, he reached his grandmother's place shortly, and discreetly let himself in a side door, dismissing his demon for the time being. The woman had no idea her grandson had taken up Warlock practices, and he highly doubted she'd give him the time of day if she knew.
She was a pleasant lady though, if a bit dense, and years earlier, the last time he'd seen her, he'd sworn she was days from her death bed. But apparently she was still kicking, which he had to admit he admired. No one really wants to die, and those who fight against it as hard as his grandmother, well, they earned his respect.
Or, at least, as much respect as he could muster, which honestly wasn't all that much.
Every room was lit with at least one lamp or crystal as he walked through a long corridor, peeking into each one as he passed them. He found her sitting in an open porch-like sunroom at the far end of the house, a book resting in her lap and steaming tea on the table beside her, of which he could smell the herbal brew with his sharp nose.
He stopped in the doorway, raising one closed fist up to the frame and knocking twice. Her head turned to him, and as her aged eyes fell on him, he saw a bright smile cover her face.
"My grandson!" she exclaimed, easily standing from her chair and shuffling over to him, slightly hunched with her age, and without question she drew him into her short arms. "Shame on you for not visiting me sooner!"
He was surprised she even recognized him. Last he'd seen her, he was just under eighteen years old. Six years gone by, and he'd transformed into an entirely different man. He shrugged as she pulled away.
"I've been busy. You know, with all the endless working and the traveling. Years fly by with hard work." He didn't work, nor did he really travel like he claimed, but she didn't know that.
She clicked her tongue. "Oh, if only your brothers were more like you," she shook her head, slowly shuffling back over to her seat. "You work so hard."
He nodded emphatically, and then sat down across from her on an old, floral sofa. "Grandmother, I have something to tell you," he said in a wary tone.
"Please, speak louder," she coaxed.
He cleared his throat. "About my siblings… I encountered them today. I overheard some of them talking…" he paused for effect, and leaned in, lowering his voice but still keeping it loud enough for her to hear. "I think they plan to steal their inheritance from you."
"Stealing?" she burst, and her brows lifted. "From me? Why?"
"Why does anyone steal?" he retorted.
A moment passed, and then she just laughed. "They can try, but they won't find it."
Levianath had heard of this before, her secret supply of money. He knew she was a wealthy woman; one look at her estate and it was obvious. But neither he nor his siblings had ever found out where she kept it.
"Why not?" he pressed.
"It's in the one place none of them would look!" she exclaimed, taking a sip of her tea. "It's under my porch. It's been there for years and years, untouched."
Jackpot. Levianath was beyond shocked he'd gotten it out of her so easily.
He smiled, though it wasn't genuinely directed toward her. "You're right, that is a good spot. They won't find it there."
"They might," she waved a finger. "You know them, the stubborn lot. To be safe, child, I'll ask for your help. Not only can't I lift the stones of the porch, but I can't make the trip to the bank. Would you deposit it for me?"
"How secure of a deposit would you like?" Levianath asked, humoring her now. He had it. He had all of it. She'd just entrusted him with literally all of the money, and he had no idea why. Maybe her old age was taking her sanity.
"Oh, simple is fine. No blood spells, not at my age. I need all the strength I can keep."
"Anything for you, Grandmother," Levianath bowed his head, offering a charming smile.
She reached out and patted his cheek with one withered hand. "I'm so proud of you, my little elfling grandson. You're so different from the others. You're a good boy."
He smiled again, the gesture believable but thin. "I am glad I warned you."
The woman laughed. "I'll be pushing daisies in a year, for goodness' sake, and they'll inherit all of it, plus this estate. How selfish they must be."
"They are so selfish," Levianath said somberly.
She nodded, and he stood back up.
"Well, it's getting late; I haven't the time to stay, but I will take care of your money," he stated, stretching his arms out to the sides. "I will bring you the papers within the week."
She nodded again, smiling at him. "Thank you, dear."
He bid her farewell, leaving her in her sunroom and walking back through to the opposite end of the house and out the door. Off to the side, he saw the porch she was talking about, and he approached it silently. It was made of large, thin slabs of stone stacked upon bricks, and with some difficulty, he finally managed to find one that was slightly loose by stepping around on each one.
He peered in the only window that could pose a hazard, and he saw the coast was clear. It was getting dark out anyways, so no one would see him.
His fingers curled down around the thick, loose slab. He pulled it up hard, shifting it over, and it made a scraping noise as it slid against the other slabs. Underneath it was an open space. He peered down into it.
A legitimate smile slid over his lips, and his eyes flashed as he reached in and grabbed the large, stiffly-woven sack that easily weighed thirty pounds, slugging it up out of the hole. It made a jangling sound, the coins in the bag shifting, music to his ears, and he hoisted it to the side, letting it slump onto the ground beside him. He slid the slab back into place, and dusted everything off to erase signs of his presence.
He threw the bag of coins over one shoulder, holding the cinch in one hand as he took off back into the city to the bank.
He'd just come into a hefty sum of money, and he needed to secure it for himself.
So, our next chapter reintroduces a lovable character from Reawakening. Stay tuned. :)