Disclaimer: Athiyk is an OC that I created, and so she's (c) to me. The village and all its' characters are (c) to me. For that matter, any characters that I am using are either (c) to friends that I have consulted, or are still (c) to me. The storline is (c) to me as well. Any mentions of anything pertaining to WoW and its' lore are probably (c) to WoW. If not? Then (c) to respective owners.
Who reads this shiznat..? The lawyers are gonna come get me..
Read. Enjoy. And for the love of all things good, PLEASE review. It keeps me writing, helps me out and such.
Thanks!
I have reached out like this a hundred times before; with my fingertips so close, stretching as far as they can possibly go, but still not quite touching. It is an almost painful feeling, to know that if my arm was just a little bit longer that I might be able to touch what it was I was reaching for. And every time I am caught in this situation, it is the same thing; something in me is screaming at me -- I will never be able to touch what I am reaching for. I will never be able to quite reach it; it will never be enough. But here I am, in the same scenario, and I am still reaching. With all of my might I am reaching, and the words in my mind as but a hissing bit of machinery that I am - at this point - able to quietly ignore. In my time of desperation, and only then, do I find such an ability to ignore it. When I have really had enough, that is when I find myself reaching for what seems like hours on end, for days, maybe even months.
But it's this time that they actually aren't the reason I am reaching - maybe that's why. Maybe it's because the voices on the other side of the wall I have finally got my hand pressed flat against aren't screaming, or snarling. Maybe it's because they aren't cursing, or speaking in a language I can't understand. And the world that I press that wall away from myself to walk in to isn't so full of harsh light; and my head doesn't ring like it used to. In fact..
I am lying flat. With something cool, and wet upon my forehead. It slowly becomes apparent to me that I am in a tent, too -- not some room filled with torture-objects and devices that could make Amani cry. I'm very slowly waking, though. Painfully slow.
Above me there is but a small hole that reveals a starry sky to me. The smoke that travels up and out of the opening is hardly obscuring the beautiful, blue and white view. In all the minutes that pass, only at the end of them do I begin to realize that there is a voice speaking to me. The dialect is strange, I haven't heard it in a long, long time. But it's not so foreign to me that I cannot understand it, or be understood in my own tongue for that matter. In fact, if anything I could be speaking Common and by the reaction the dark-skinned female gives me when I speak; she's overjoyed regardless.
But why? I can't think enough to ask her this, but she explains to me anyways; it's been days, even a week, since my eyes were last open. I can understand that. The memories that are slowly coming back to me are harsh ones, but the last time I had my eyes open there was a blinding sun, and.. trolls. Male trolls. And lots of them; like a hunting party, or a search-party. But, again, I don't seem to feel of mind enough to bother asking about it. I feel so light; I can tell that I don't have all of my heavy armor on. It's been a longer time still since that had been. And by the sound of it the she-troll beside me has begun to chastise me about the very subject; but I'm not listening. My mind is drifting away from me again. I'm out..
Here I am again! Years later.. Reaching towards that same wall that keeps me from consciousness. But this time it's not so difficult to jerk just a little bit closer so that my hand sticks flat to it like a magnet. ...this time, however I'm not pushing. What is it that I am going to open my eyes to? Are things going to prove themselves to be just a dream? I've been dreaming a lot. It seems like years could have passed, I've been dreaming so much. And I saw my brother in that dream. Din'yai.. maybe he will be there when I open my eyes. There's the off-chance that those Southshore blaggards didn't actually drag him away, and chase the rest of us off of that waterfall. But that's unlikely.. it would be too good to be true, after all. I might not even accept it!
I'm being shaken, now that I'm around enough to realize it. There's a small pair of hands jostling me; a child. But then there's another pair.. and then another. The brats really want me awake, it looks like. I suppose I'll have to answer them, I sigh to myself in my sleep. No, it's so comfortable. To not say a thing, to stay in my own little corner of Dream Land. It's so peaceful! Why do they have to poke and prod me like that? I'm going to swat every single one of--
"M'up." The tones and words that they use have become more familiar to me now that I've spent some time in this place. Even the blathering nonsense that the little-ones at my bedside are spouting out is able to be understood despite its' speed; as I sit up I am able to listen. Though I'd prefer not to, considering the topic. I'm only half-listening as I rise to put on a little bit of my armor; no one will let me wear it to bed anymore.
"They're waiting for you, Athiyk sister!" One of them manages to speak loud enough that I can differentiate between the lot of the tykes. It's Ya'di, and he's pretty frantic.
"Why are they waiting for me? Who?" My voice is a gravely growl now that I've woken up a little more. Though, it's usually about that anyways. I don't talk much around these people, despite how long I've been here. "I was asleep, you know. The Loa will spite you if you wake sleeping soldiers."
"You're not a soldier, Sister! You're Athiyk!" That was Er'sha. Sweetest little girl I'd ever met; one of my best friends ever since I woke up. Refused to let me live in the mind set that there was and always would be war. I am no soldier, I am a troll.. "Chief Yin'dayo is waiting for you by the river. They've been there since morning, watching the boats come in!" ..and now I'm a troll in trouble. What could they need me for?
"Boats? From where?" I am going to start asking these little guys about more than they do or should know. Without waiting for an answer to my question, I've already grabbed one of my axes and rushed past the flap of my tent. Let them rummage my room for shinies and goodies; I really don't care at this point as much as I might have usually. Qo'wadi will be looking for them soon, anyways, the worried old hen-mother that she is. This and other such rubbish is on my mind as I reach the pens where all of the mounts are kept, and seeing as there isn't much in the way of war going yet, I'm happy to settle for something that's quick. In no time, I'm on the back of some giant lizard that's chirping and yowling with excitement as I drive it out of the village and towards the dunes. It's quite a ride to get to the river, but I can already see the sails of boats from far off.
Yin'dayo was right to send for me. I recognize them..
