The battle cries, clashing swords, booming spells and deafening explosions drown out everything. The attack had been planned out, decisive, and strategic. The Crusade hadn't really expected it. The Twilight Cultists were mad.. Crazed.. It was hard to believe that they'd been able to conjure up such an intricately detailed plan of attack. The Crusade soldiers matched them well enough, however, that the battle had been drawing on for hours. More cultists seemed to be flowing in as others fell. A steady stream of them joining the fight so there could be no true end. It was tiring, and it was wearing at Faiyte's patience as she attempted to keep up with it. She was fighting three, herself, as well as trying to keep healing spells over her allies and cause distractions where needed. It was getting increasingly harder. With her exhaustion, anger, and annoyance, the powers of the light were faltering within her, yet again.
She'd had a few repeat instances like the one she's had in the Stockade, during the few moths she'd been stationed in the Highlands. Each time it seemed to get worse, but at least they'd always happened out of the presence of onlookers. The shadows, when she'd absentmindedly used them, were growing stronger, darker, and more vicious. It was worrying her quite a bit. Her control of the light was what made her who she was. It was what made her such a great priest, and such an asset to the Crusade. It was the reason they'd come to fetch her, for the mission. It was the reason she had any sense of self, at all. And yet, the light was abandoning her.
She barely heard her name called over all the racket, and she quickly craned her head around to notice Duxar motioning her over to the small barricade the rangers stood behind. After successfully dropping the last of the cultists she was fighting, she ran over to the paladin, looking concerned.
"They've got us surrounded." Duxar had to yell to be heard, even as she stood right beside him. "We can't even send out gryffins to gather more aid." He motioned to the sky. Twilight drakes circled above, cultists on their backs that were ordering the drakes' attacks, as well as shooting spells, themselves.
"What do we do?" She called, looking back to him.
"We've got to get to the ship." He pointed towards the shoreline, at the fight's back. "We've got more ammunition and supplies inside that we can-" At this moment, there was a deafening roar from the skies overhead, causing everyone to look up in question. It was Deathwing, himself. His massive, metal plated body carried by a wide wingspan as he flew over the mountains, towards the fight. "By the Light!" Duxar shouted, a clear panic in his voice that had never been present, in all the time Faiyte had known him. "Get down!" He'd bellowed it as loud as he could, as the large Dragon Aspect neared. It would have been impossible for everyone to hear him. But the handful that had, quickly complied and ran for cover.
Deathwing spread his jaws, breathing out a wild rain of fire that enveloped the battlefield. Faiyte had been a bit dumbfounded, standing in place and watching, until Duxar snatched her and pulled her into the tightly huddled mass behind the barricade. Cries of pain, shock, and agony replaced the clashing of swords and casting of spells as the flames enveloped those still fighting. Faiyte flinched at the callous act. Deathwing had not only killed the members of the Crusade, but the cultists following his leadership, as well. It caused a sickening twist in her stomach, and her head spun a bit. Duxar was the first to move, though his actions seemed a bit clumsy. Clearly, he had already resigned himself to the fact that there was no winning this fight, anymore. The others followed, but a weakness in Faiyte's legs rendered her incapable of moving, right away.
Avoiding the mass of fire, the Crusade members engaged what was left of the cult, as Deathwing continued to circle with the drakes overhead. It seemed he hadn't been meaning to join the fight, himself. He just wanted to add his own form of chaos to the situation. It certainly worked. It had made things much more difficult, avoiding the untamed fire and heavily charred ground to escape harm. Faiyte managed to finally scramble to her feet, snatching her fallen staff and jumping over the barricade to rejoin the fight. There were bodies everywhere. Heavily cut from the blades wielded by both sides, up in flames and creating a black, horridly grotesque smelling smoke. Some were even still partially alive, too wounded to move and simply sitting in the fire with cries of pain, both silent and piercing. The cultists wouldn't allow for aid of the Crusade soldiers in such situation, and they didn't care about their own.
Faiyte attempted to push it from her mind, but the burning within her increased significantly at the sight, smell, and sound of it. The heat from the fire caused her mind to sway even more, and it felt like, at any moment, her weak knees would give from the strain and stress of the situation at hand. She gave attempts to heal the remaining Crusade members, but was barely able to do so. Each time she cast a healing spell... Each time she tried to use the Light, at all, it created a piercing stinging in her mind, and the hot, boiling feeling in her gut would rise more. Her vision blurred a bit, and her breath was getting harder as she continued her desperate attempts to heal her allies and fight against the cultists that ran at her.
She roared in blatant rage, whipping her staff around so hard that it cracked a cultist's skull clean open, causing him to fall motionless to the ground. His blood had sprayed from the wound as he spun around and fell, coating the front of her torn and tattered armor. The strong tang of the blood invaded her nostrils, and her knees finally gave, causing her to collapse to the ground on her hands and knees. The jolt was enough to flip the boiling in her stomach into a rather violent wretch. She'd never gotten sick from battle, before, and the action shocked her. However, as she opened her eyes, she was horrified to find that it wasn't vomit that had come up from her stomach. It was a thick black ooze, writhing slightly of it's own accord. She screamed, jumping back from it and abandoning her staff completely.
She watched with wide, terrified eyes as the mass of black, smoking slime sank into the ground, spreading around the charred grass and dirt with a life of it's own. Then, a cloud of smoke sprang forth from the ground, twisting into a living, three dimensional shadow. Eyes of bright violet and white light and a mouth with twisted fangs grew onto the creature that had come from within her. It hissed a terrible sound, and arms with long jagged claws manifested themselves from within the shadow mass of the creature's body. It looked to her, and the light of it's mouth curled wickedly into a dripping grin. Faiyte wanted to scream, but the gaze the shadow held with her had completely entranced her for a short spell. Then, she laughed.
Faiyte cackled like a madwoman, her eyes smoking over a cloudy white and a feeling of twisted longing for blood and destruction gripping her heart. She laughed loudly, throwing her head back at the force of it, and the shadow began to cackle a twisted clicking laugh with her. Faiyte rose from the ground, her hair flowing in a surreal way around her body and her blank eyes making it unclear to even tell what she was looking at. She lifted an arm, pointing to the fight, and the shadow instantaneously faded back into the ground. Though, it could be seen as two dimensional on the ground, shooting with insane speed towards the battle. As it reached the area in the center of the fight, it rose again. It gathered from inanimate shadows around it to grow larger, then turned on the battle. It tore through both the cultists and the Crusade members with a vicious and relentless vigor.
Faiyte continued her hysterical laughter as the shadow continued, tearing some of the attackers limb from limb, and swallowing others completely whole, spitting out only skeletons moments later. The more blood that was spilled, the louder her laughter became. It didn't take long for Duxar, keen on battlefield tactics and reading signs, to realize the shadow was being controlled by the corrupted priest. Not having much choice, her ran at her, blade at the ready. Faiyte noticed this, and simply stretched out her hand. As she did so, the shadow her staff made sprung to life, wrapping around the weapon and quickly stretching it through the air to her hand. She gripped it with a wicked smirk, using it to block Duxar's attacks and continuing to laugh the entire time.
Duxar was skilled in the ways of his blade, and his use of the light, but Faiyte was faster on her feet, remaining unbound by the heavy plate armor he wore. She nimbly dodged and blocked his attacks, casting spells of her own as she pleased. It didn't even appear that she was trying to fight. She looked rather like she was simply playing a game. She spun him in circles, lead him over obstacles, all the while biding time for her shadow pet to tear the remaining fighters asunder. Then, as it finished, Faiyte stopped in her tracks, turning to face Duxar. The action startled him, but his pause was enough time for the shadow to shoot across the ground, wrap around his neck, and dangle him in the air before Faiyte.
Duxar had dropped his sword the moment the shadow heaved him in the air, and was gasping and coughing as he tried to claw away the hold on his neck. The shadow, however, held him up with a force, other than it's physical being, which was still only a shadow. There was nothing for the paladin to grab onto to pull away. Faiyte smirked rather sadistically, snatching his fallen blade. She flipped it around in her grasp, then ran it straight into the paladin's abdomen, angling the blade to slice up through a good amount of his vital organs. He fell limp nearly immediately afterward, and the shadow ungraciously dropped him to the ground before returning to it, itself. The shadow creature shot across the ground, merging with Faiyte's own shadow. It was a part of her, now.
As it did so, Faiyte's eyes changed back to their original gold, and focused on Duxar's dead body in shock. From the fatal wound, to the sword that caused it, to her own grip on the weapon. Her jaw dropped, and tears rimmed her eyes as she immediately let go of the handle, just then realizing what she'd done. She took a few quick steps back, stumbling and tripping over her tattered robes and eventually falling from her feet to land on a piece of charred ground. She let out a scream, desperately wiping the blood from her hands and arms, but giving up after a while and wrapping her arms around herself. What had she done!? She rocked back and forth slightly, eyes trained to Duxar's body as though she was hoping he wasn't truly dead. Or maybe it had all been a horrid nightmare. She should never have ignored the signs of her mental decline.
Her eyes stayed locked to the corpse of her former commander until there was a loud thud, from a distance away to her side. She looked over with wide eyes to see Deathwing had landed. In an instant, the dragon changed into a heavily armored human form, walking towards her with a rather amused glint in his vibrant orange eyes. She struggled to breathe, and gave a pathetic attempt to scoot away from the approaching terror. Though, her shock at the situation had her frozen to the spot. Deathwing came to a stop before her, glancing over to Duxar's body, then to Faiyte's shadow, before he focused on her, again.
"That was rather entertaining." He drawled. "I'm glad I decided to make an appearance." She attempted to speak, but her throat was so dry she couldn't even swallow, let alone produce words. "You've got an impressive amount of darkness in you, young priest." He continued, seeming to understand she wasn't capable of speaking. He stooped to kneel in front of her, and her heart leapt to her throat. Though, she still wasn't able to move from her position, crumpled to the ground, leaning forward on her hands as she gawped up at him in sheer terror. "A darkness that's eating away at the light you clearly cling so desperately to." He said, eyes falling to the large cross necklace that was ever present around her neck. In one swift motion, he reached out a hand, curling his glove-clawed fingers around the piece of jewelry and yanking it roughly to break it off of her. They both glanced to it. Then, as he still held it, he took her chin in his hand, forcing her gaze up to meet his. "Your soul has been invaded by the shadows.. And all all that anger and hatred you've been trying so long to bottle up is overflowing and eating you alive..." He announced, keeping his eyes locked to hers. The sense he made, and the feeling of odd comfort it gave to that stinging in her mind was unexplainable. Her eyes faded slightly, becoming paler. "Everything you've been trying to hold back, all the urges you've had.. The chaos and destruction.. The darkness and anger.. Wouldn't it feel so much better to let it out? To allow yourself to feel what you want, think what you want, and do what you want without the strict guidelines of your pathetic holy light?" He asked. It would. It would ease that torture within her heart. It would make everything better. Her eyes went lighter still, continuing their slow change into their shadow crazed state. "Give in tot he darkness, priest... Let the shadows out. Allow yourself to be free." Freedom? Freedom to do as she pleased? She'd never been able have that, before. It was never an option, to simply let herself go. Her eyes were completely white again, sad, terrified frown curling into a bit of a smile. "Come with me." She would. "Don't fight that exquisite darkness any longer." She wouldn't. "Serve me." She was able to move enough, then, to give a small nod.
"I will." She agreed in a breath. He released her chin, getting to his feet and looking to her expectantly. She smiled. A twisted, malicious smile, as she rose from the ground with him, obediently following after as he started away.
"It's getting worse, in the Highlands." Anduin announced as Devon entered the hall. She rose a brow to him, judging his tense demeanor and the lines in his face as a clear sign of the stress he was under. "All the effort we seem to put forth, they have a counter act already planned out.. How did they become so capable? When this began, they were all a bunch of babbling morons. Speaking about the coming forth of the end of days and the voices in their heads." He finally looked to her. "Another fleet has been struck down."
"How many?" She asked carefully.
"Hundreds." He said. "And they didn't even make it to the shoreline, this time. They were attacked by the cultist from the air, as the ship went in to dock."
"After the attack on the Crusade, it's still a wonder to me why anyone is willing to go." She breathed.
"Because this is something that needs to be dealt with." He said pointedly. "It will only keep spreading. They'll gather more followers, take over more land.. It won't stop until Deathwing is taken care of."
"And the allegiance with the Horde isn't helping?"
"It's not much of an allegiance." He scoffed. "The Horde will never work by our side, even if it does mean the action saves them, as well as us." He huffed, stress growing in his voice.
"The other Dragon Aspects-" Devon began.
"Are doing what they can." He interrupted. "But it's still not enough."
"So, what we need is more help?" She asked.
"Help that can't be found. Like I said, the Horde won't cooperate with us any more than they already are."
"I wasn't suggesting the Horde." Devon said, earning back Anduin's gaze in the form of a raised brow in question. "You're open to any suggestion, at this point, right?" At this, he gave a hesitant nod. Devon had a habit of formulating rather impossible, dangerous plans. And she would usually act like they weren't as farfetched as they truly were. So, if she was being wary of it, he clearly had reason to brace himself.
"What is it?" He asked.
"Well, I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't think we could convince him.. But we could always go into Northrend and ask the aid of-"
"No." Anduin's answer was short and definite, and Devon gave a sigh.
"You said you were open to any suggestions."
"Within reason." He corrected. "We will not be joining forces with that atrocity that is the Scourge. I will not work along side the Lich King, and I don't understand what makes you think he would agree, either." Anduin scoffed. "And, after what happened, it would be far too dangerous to go there, anyhow. We would be killed on sight."
"No we wouldn't." She tried.
"I would be." He said, sounding sure.
"You wouldn't.. Not once I can actually get my point across." She said. "You said we needed more help, and this is our only chance. Especially if the Horde is being stubborn as they are."
"And you expect them to just agree to come into the Highlands and aid us, then?"
"Yes." She nodded pointedly. "Like I said, I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't think I could convince him. I'm sure of it." She paused, watching Anduin. "It's worth a try, if it means we can end this and save Azeroth."
"How is it you plan to get inside and speak with their King, without being killed in the process?"
"When he hears the two of us are there, he will come to us." She said. "So..." She paused, raising a brow. "Worth a try?" At this, Anduin sighed.
"Fine." He gave in. "I'll indulge it as a possibility, if you're so sure you can get through to the monster."
