Bam! Garlic added.
Wait...
Here is another chapter; tomorrow another for Tides of the Sun.
Feast, hungry eyes! Feast!
Rotted leaves crunch beneath my feet; the echoes dancing delicately upon the air and reverberating amongst the pitch-black canopy. Light itself seems trapped by the clouding foliage. Fragments of illumination trickle through the dense covering, but such a minuscule amount it leaves one's eyes wanting.
I shift my gaze from the depressing overlay downward. Alas, the trunks of the surrounding forest do little to quell the overwhelming despair present. Standard scars riddle the face of the tree's bark, yet as one stare's upon the surface they are embraced by a fine, black material.
Running my fingers across the awkward flesh, I find the sensation…odd. I expect a scratchy response, but the feeling is instead smooth – as if rubbing a river rock. Puzzled, I break a piece from the tree and draw it close.
The surface does indeed appear sleek as if polished. Bumps litter the surface, yet roll under one's fingers gently. I farrow my brow, flipping the severed portion in my hand. Light glides across the surface, reflecting majestically upon the fine rocky bark. I cannot resist but take a quick glance upwards once more, quite surprised that such little light brings such grand displays from this bark.
Glimpsing back at the item, I return to my examination. I flip it once more, watching the black face glisten to my movements. It reminds me of obsidian stone, oddly enough. And to add upon this wonder, it doesn't reflect my image back at me as expected. Maybe I am just assuming too much of this rock…bark…
You make wild accusations all the time. Young one, put the evil tree down.
Evil? Who said it was evil?
You need someone to tell you that Rock Tree is evil? Young one, it wreaks of iniquitous crafting!
Are you saying because it is pitch-black and full of qualities never announced by trees before that it is evil? Ah. Well, when you put it that way it does seem rather…dark…
You, sir, need a picture drawn for you. Young bug, he already has the object before him: he cannot possibly get a clearer picture!
Hey, maybe I just don't assume because it is different that it is hellfire-bent. Look at me. I am weird, yet I am not evil.
You are jumping to conclusions. You love to torture us! Young one, the images == the dark, dark images!
Come on, I don't torture you guys.
You have no idea what agonizing lives we live! Young one, it's so cold in here…
Hey! Why can't you guys go back to fighting each other? This is…out of place. Go on. Support me as usual before I do something crazy.
You are planning…what? Young one, you couldn't stab yourself with Rock Bark there.
I…I…I could slap Sylvanas' rear end.
You wouldn't dare! Young one, don't do it! You are suicidal! Young one, I apologize!
Yeah, that is what I thought…
"Goldfish!" Shattering my wandering is the high-pitched rage of my beloved, "Hurry up! I am not explaining to Nathanos why I showed up without you at arm!"
I drop the bark, turning my attention on the woman a good dozen yards away. Sighing, I take to my feet wisely before replying, "Oh. Now it matters if I live?" I place my hand on the clotted gash at my throat, "pretty sure you were ready to let me bleed out a few minutes ago."
Coming upon her, I catch glimpse of her burning eyes as she retorts, "Don't flatter yourself. I still plan on ending you, Goldfish." I stop a short distance from her. Starring into her beautiful orbs, I find myself perplexed. Once scarlet, then light-red, now pink her eyes seem to be losing color. Odd. "Hey! Focus!" She snaps thrice, "I don't know if I should slap you for starring at my eyes or not! You are worse than the masses with your gawking. The only difference is you actually look me in the eye!"
I smirk, "Want me to stare at your butt instead? Ease your burden?"
She narrows her brow, setting me ablaze in her mind. Strangely her eyes begin to oscillate as if she is searching for something. A frown forms upon her lips, but I think it does so for reasons beyond myself. Strangely she loses her usual hatred and she grunts, turning without saying a word.
Marching into the thicket once more, she moves with a new, displeasing stepr. She marches through the forest, dodging trees with a rather unconfident wobble. Normally her step is strong and firm - her stride matching that of nobility. But now…she seems…distracted…
I slowly take off after her, keeping her movements in check. She throws an arm to the side, swiping it at a nearby tree. Gently she places her palm against the nearest trunk and halts. After a moment she throws a partial gaze rearward at me as if examining my position. She finds me after a few seconds of awkward starring and she groans. Without hesitating she snaps forward once more, trampling angrily onward. After a few misplaced steps she snags her foot on a rock and stumbles forward.
My chest clenches even as she grabs a branch and pulls herself upright. Flaming eyes sweep her sides as she hunts for the culprit of her fall. As she glances upon the jagged stone, I come within yards of her, hoping she is alright. Overzealous concern, I know, yet…I have never seen her trip before…
"Unbelievable," she shouts. "How did I manage to miss a stupid little rock?"
I stop short of her, speaking in hopes of bringing her comfort, "My Lady, it is almost dark as night in this forest. It happens to all of us…"
"It hasn't happened to you yet, and it certainly shouldn't happen to me!" Fiercely she snaps, turning my direction. Her eyes direct towards me, yet seem to land upon something else.
"My lady, you…"
"Stop calling me that! You are not Forsaken! You are not even undead! The only reason I tolerate your presence is because of my Champion! If it wasn't for him I'd have your head mounted in my throne room!"
I hesitate, the words almost hurtful. Of course, I know she only speaks out of frustration. Let me redirect her anger, "At least I could be with you at all times."
"Ah!" She leans forward, utter hatred spewing from her whitish orbs. A breeze tassels her hair as she continues her raging, "You are so thick-headed! You are so…" suddenly she halts, her lips quickly molding to that of concern. Her long ears twitch, quivering as if yearning. "Goldfish," her fury has subsided, "did you hear that?"
I make to reply, but the woman is wildly swift. Pivoting upon her heels she throws her back to me and draws her bow. An arrow is strung, posture is properly positioned, and alert focus obtained – the Banshee Queen ready to strike. Eyes align with the assassin's harp, a single pluck all that is needed to release a melody of chaos. Yet she simply drags the weapon side to side, scanning for her victim.
I take a step forward. She continues her search. Another, gentle foot of mine placed ahead. Cautious undead eyes peruse tree after tree. A third soft step launched; a soft crunch follows…
Spinning, she hurls her aim upon me. A wooden shaft holds skillfully still while a metal tip glistens inches away from my face. Unmoving, elegant arms run to sturdy shoulders which hold upon them a keen bastion for which the focused, fiery orbs rest. If she were to shoot, the back of my skull would catch the metal…
"Goldfish?" Calmly, eerily she speaks.
A moment passes, a response clearly desired. "Yes?"
Oddly, she exhales. She almost seems relieved by my very voice. That's a first. "Don't sneak up on me, you idiot." Twirling, she throws her gaze forward once more. "I'd hate to shoot you on accident." Oddly, her words hold no sarcasm. Not any that I notice…
As I keep still, the Queen hunting, a gentle gust cuddles my cheeks. It is delicate and calming to the touch and with it swirls a sweet whisper: a fine whistle that finely quells all agony and anxiety. Dulling, the whimsical wind fades, yet the call that came still chimes softly.
High-pitched yet soothing, the noise emitted intensifies with every moment's passing. Harmonious hums hover upon its growing beat. A familiar sound, I am certain, yet its origins are beyond my grasp. Where have I heard this before?
Breaking my focus, Sylvanas speaks "Goldfish, you hear that now? Correct?"
Her question is bitter and commanding. As expected. "Yes." I realign my attention to the ever-rising melody, "Yes, I hear it."
Now it screeches sweetly as if yards away. It is a gentle calming tone – poetic amongst the darkness. Rising and falling, its pitch fluctuates ever-so-slightly. As I listen, every note recorded, a distant memory comes to mind.
A past occurrence in the Eastern Plaguelands. Much of it is a blur, but I can see Carol Redpath, his arms raised and his head cocked. Placed against his cheek, one arm swaying to and fro while the other's fingers dance, is a stringed instrument. From it wails the same glorious tune as now. It is a violin.
"Goldfish!" Sylvanas sweeps her bow, hunting for the intangible, "where is it? Where is it coming from?"
I hesitate, her concern rather unnerving. She almost speaks as if…rattled…
"Hope?"
I throw my eyes upon the Lady; wide and dismayed, they scream a story of horror. My maw sunders, yet the words are tethered to the motionless tongue. It is not from her nervous, uncontrolled actions where I flinch. Nor does my fear rise from her evident unease. No, what crushes my courage…is that…she said my name…
"Hope!"
"Sweet lass, stay your frightened tongue!" A voice spills from the darkness. It is deep, yet gentle with its call. "Hear nigh my words, smoothly rung!" It comes from all angles. It echoes across all planes. "Upon my fiddle the path paved! With my Ode to Vengeance your fate waved!"
As his words spew and the violin flutters, the overwhelming darkness fades. Once nearly impossible to see, now the lands revealed. A gray haze still lingers - a dense fog. Yet the forest is visible, and a road ahead in full view….
"Take heed to that which lay ahead. Stray far and the lovers' eternity wed!" My eyes uncontrollably fall upon the path cut into the forest floor: simple dirt road, shrouded by looming trees and a black wall to either side. "One lover lost of pride! The other to be her guide!"
Suddenly a figure bursts from the thicket. Skipping joyfully, the man takes his place amongst the road – a violin within his oscillating arms. Black tailcoats whip and trash at heavy, black boots and hug to equally as dark pants. The leggings are baggy and bulge from the upper edges of stompers and his silver belt. Matching that of the pants, the vest is black and baggy. It spills from above the belt and runs wrinkled to his neck, ruffling to the man's abrupt movements.
The violin screeches as he skids to a halt, the side of his head facing us, yet his features fully felt. Delicate fibers dangle from a silken scarf that entangles his nose and maw. A wide-rimmed hit rests upon his head while a set of violet diamonds burn as diabolical orbs. From them rises not a sense of terror or misbegotten plots. But his words tell the truth behind his clever eyes…
"Hold your lover close, mighty Hope! Falter and surely her agony impossible to cope…"
"Lover? I am not this fool's lover!" As he attempts to continue on, Sylvanas interrupts him. She sways back and forth, daring to pinpoint her target. Her movements are sporadic and disheartening. Her voice is distraught and frustrated, "Hope, where is he? Give me a target, so I can puncture his lungs and feed on his dying breath!"
With her words, my heart races. I weakly raise my arm and reply, "Sylvanas…he is right in front of you…."
"What?" She twists back to me, her eyes feebly placed upon me. Calm, meager flames rise from that which is normally an inferno. "That…that is not possible…"
My eyes lock with hers, yet she stares not upon me. She glances beyond me, at something out of sight. And as I stare into her glorious pools…his voice beats down upon us…
"In your hands, your lover's fortune felled. An eternity of horrors for her beheld! A story of destiny's passing! A tale of the master's casting!"
I feast upon his voice as I do my Queen. Her pupils are hollow, the black outlines encompassing whitish pits – the red all but gone. And as I stare upon my lady, I find my revelation. Alas, it sinks beneath the call of the dark being before us…to the call of the musician…
"Enluzen's story for you to behold! An epic molded of anguish...yours told…" my eyes break, switching to the tormentor. His voice pierces to the core. His words draw ice to the vein and hairs to their ends. And his fiddle caresses the dark truth behind his lines, "A hero to witness his lover's repetitive end. His one dream: her agony to transcend."
Strings strung. Notes played. All while his final words are spoken, "Yet it is this hero's unyielding nightmare brought true. His lover lost, the darkness hung and strew. A hero's dream mangled… vengeance…forever to rue."