Forgiven
Darkness encased her mind, and she knew nothing of the world around her. Somewhere in the rift between life and death a voice was crying out from a great distance, one word over and over. The word felt familiar, but somehow its meaning was elusive. Gradually, the voice grew fainter and fainter, and then it too was gone, leaving only silence, and darkness.
A lifetime passed, and then there was light, a faint feeble thing that did little more than muddy the pure blackness into a murky grey. With this light, there was something else, something intangible, but insistent. A voice? No. This was something simpler yet more powerful, more pervasive than mere words and sounds. It felt… eternal, all-knowing and… angry.
Without warning the greyness swirled and exploded into a myriad of colours and sounds – the howling of a typhoon, the grating rumble of a landslide, the crackling of a blazing fire, the thundering roar of a waterfall – and with these sounds came other sensations altogether separate from the sounds: the blazing heat of the midday sun, accompanied by a swift breeze which was blowing a thick cloud of dust whilst the clouds put forth a light rain.
Nonsense! Madness!
Madness? Nonsense?
Pain! Intense, sickening all-consuming pain, which went on for an eternity before a wave washed over her bent and broken body, filling in the gaps in the flesh with salty, warm, life-giving water. Then, the pain was gone, and there was only a sense of self, and the presence of others.
A voice like a crumbling mountain, "Do you still dare to ignore us?"
Like the howling wind, "To defy us?"
Like a crashing wave, "To reject us?"
A terrible voice that spoke with the power and fury of the blazing sun, "You have failed us. You have failed yourself. And you have failed your people!"
"Speak!" cried the tornado.
"Yes, feed us more excuses and lies!" said the crashing landslide.
"We shall erase you from this world!" declared the searing lava.
"Yes, I… I have failed you," she thought, or said – she could not be sure of which it was, only that she regretted her indecision, her cowardice, "and I have failed myself, my family, my people."
"What will you do?" asked a voice like a stinging rainstorm.
"What will I do?"
There was a pause, then all the voices shouted in unison, "Make amends! We have not allowed you to survive for no reason. Go forth and fix this world that you have so carelessly allowed to be damaged!"
"They… they would not have listened! Not to me, not after what Sorras did to me-"
"You failed because you did not act! Not because of the actions of your mate! The one you call the Prophet would have heeded your warnings. You were given a gift that you chose to ignore because you were weak and cowardly! Now you are being given this gift one more. Do not fail to value it again!"
She tried to respond, but no words would come out. All she could do was nod dumbly in acknowledgement of the truth of their words. What had happened was her responsibility, and now by their grace, she was still alive – given a chance to correct her past mistakes.
She awoke with the taste of blood in her mouth and a bone-deep sense of fatigue, as if all the energy in her body had been spent. Still, she was alive and she could think fairly clearly, and considering what she had been through, that was no small thing. She was lying in a shallow puddle of water, scattered around her was the still-burning wreckage, of what she realised with a stomach-churning feeling must have been the Exodar. Raising her head slightly she could just make out the outline of the Vector Coil in the distance although, something was wrong with the image, something she couldn't quite place.
Her reflection in the muddy pool caught her eye and she cried out in shock and tried to draw back from it, sending a flurry of ripples across the surface, further distorting the image. Her once beautiful face was scarred and torn. There was a huge scar where her right eye used to be and the left side of her cheeks and lips had been completely burnt off right down to the point where her broken teeth and gums could be seen, even when her mouth was closed. Frantically she examined the rest of her body and found that her milky white skin was littered with deep blue bruises and long snaking scars.
She screamed in panic and sheer horror and tried to call forth the Holy Light to rejuvenate her body, but as she reached for it she found that it was like trying to grasp a cobweb – it simply disintegrated at her touch and she was left with a few pitiful strands of nothingness. Frantically she tried again and again, mentally clawing at the Light, then begging it for help – but it was to no avail.
Despair and frustration took her and she collapsed on the muddy ground weeping bitterly, wailing like a tormented ghost, and would have possibly remained in that state for the rest of her life had the puddle of water not given a great sigh and a ripple.
She was so startled by this, that she ceased crying at once, and
scrambled up and away from the puddle – her hooves slipping on the
slick ground.
"Have you forgotten us already young Draenei?"
the puddle gurgled.
Her tail swishing nervously, she tried to stammer an answer but she found to her alarm that she could not even do that much.
"Yes, it is as we suspected," the puddle said, "You can no longer speak. Do you know why?"
The Draenei just shook her head dumbly and started wringing her hands. Her tears began flowing again.
"I think you do know why. It is because you refused to speak when the time was right, so now, that power has been taken from you," It continued, "And, you also know why we could not heal your scars, even though we mended your life-threatening wounds."
As she stood there, trembling all over, she saw the truth of those words. She did indeed know why she was so scarred and disfigured. The power of the spells of healing that had been cast on her was indeed incredible, but they alone could not heal her. It was her own mind that had limited their power, with her doubts and self-loathing.
For a long time she had been receiving visions – glimpses of events far away both in space and time. But she had ignored them. She had feigned ignorance and hoped that they would go away, because she did not want to accept the responsibility. She could have told someone, could have warned them of the tragedy that would come of reclaiming the Exodar – but she did not and now, so many were dead or dying.
In her mind, she was the exact opposite of the Vindicator she was supposed to be. She had lost all faith in the Light, and she had become selfish, only caring about the safety of herself and her child – she had even forsaken her husband, in mind if not in body. These scars were a fitting punishment she mused, a physical representation of her own guilt and self-hatred, which is why they would not heal.
But she had been given another chance! They had said so, and from what she could tell, it was true. Looking over her body she realised that she should have died from the wounds, or perhaps she had already died and been returned to life…
"No!" She tried to shout, but she could not, so she directed her thoughts at the puddle instead, which she was sure would understand them, "I do not deserve this second chance!"
The water she was sure, was laughing. Then she noticed the others – the wind playing around her, the dancing flames in the wreckage, even the earth beneath her feet – there was a sense of joy and mirth radiating from them all. In that moment, she felt as though she was lifted from her body and rushed miles away, where she saw her daughter clambering out from the wreckage of the Exodar, virtually unharmed.
"Laeila… at least I managed to save you," she thought, and she could have sworn that Laeila looked up when she did, but before she could say anything more, she was removed from the mortal coil altogether and for a few exhilarating moments, became as one with the elements. She felt what it was like to be each one in turn, felt their strengths, their weaknesses, and most of all, their pain.
The sensation might have lasted for an eternity or for a few seconds, but eventually when it faded she found herself kneeling in front of the puddle of water, looking herself in the eye. That was when she heard the shout – it was in a language that she did not understand, but she had heard it too often in the past. There were Blood Elves approaching! She looked to the pool and saw it rippling in anger. She looked around and quickly found a slightly bent metal pole that she could use as a stave.
The Blood Elves had started running her way when out of the cloudless sky lightning arced down in an awesome display of nature's fury, crackling through the air to hit the debris, making spectacular arches and webs in the air around the Draenei before finally condensing into three orbs circling around her. The wind caressed her and whispered, to her, her new name, telling her what it signified and what she now was.
The blood elves had stopped their charge at the display of power and had begun to take some steps backwards - as well they should! She had the favour of the elements, and with it, all of their power. She was a Shamanka, her name was Nakaere, and she had been forgiven.