" - possible to separate them now - "
Voices came into her awareness through a thick fog of unconsciousness. There were three she could make out, then those three turned into a cacophony that drowned her thoughts, only for silence to sweep back into control.
"She didn't have another choice!" That was Vereesa, voice high-pitched and emotional.
"She could have allowed the Lightforged their duty," that was an unfamiliar male voice, though she'd sworn she'd heard the speaker somewhere before. "The elf had become a nexus."
"Alleria - you of all people should understand why I did not allow two random passersbys attempt murder of one of our own."
"Our own?" Alleria's voice was honeyed smoke. "Last time we had this conversation, you were accusing me of stealing them from you, but she's right, Turalyon; we cannot allow the precedent of the Lightforged striking down folk in the street -"
"Thank you -"
"Even if this situation potentially warranted it." Alleria pressed on despite Vereesa's interruptions.
Jaina looked down to the ren'dorei still in her arms, only to find that she couldn't move. Her muscles refused to obey even the simplest of requests. The stimulus had nowhere to go, fizzling out somewhere between her intent and the action. She had her mind, though, and her thoughts raced along the conversation on the opposite side of the stasis-barrier.
She couldn't make out more than light and shapes. A beacon of light stood in the direct center, close enough to the barrier that she could trace out the massive shoulder pauldrons and the hilt of a massive two-handed sword. Turalyon, she assumed. Behind him, slightly to the left, a tall figure clad in emerald and gold stood distant to the barrier itself. Then, another figure further away still, in the soft blue and silver that Vereesa favored so well.
When they stopped talking, that was when Jaina heard the other voices. It immediately made her think of Thros - of those agonizing months in the Blighted Lands listening to all of her doubts, hatreds, and fears manifested, but these weren't the hissing hatreds of bitter souls.
These whispers came soft, scratching at her ear like a many-legged thing that wanted to come inside from the cold. They spoke of a thousand different offers; obscure knowledge, power, and the ability to walk the endless cold. Jaina was grateful she couldn't move because she feared that if she looked down into that split-flesh so close to her own that there'd be an imploring, hungry gaze that she wouldn't be able to resist.
Then, there's a shriek. A chorus of pain rose up in her ear before the voices went, mercifully, silent.
Alleria sighed. "Well, we have an answer on Jaina's status - she's alive, and conscious enough that the Void whispers to her. Which means they're not completely fused."
Completely what, now?
"Fused?" Vereesa echoed Jaina's thoughts.
"Mm. Lieutenant Sinclair was it not?"
"Aye, ma'am?" Lieutenant Sinclair was the mage in charge of the Violet Hold. She'd led the troops in the face of two breaches into the prison, and was one of the few people still alive that knew that more than a couple of the cells within the Hold held prisoners of the Sunreaver Purge. Officially, all of the prisoners had been released when Khadgar had retaken control of the Kirin Tor back for himself. Unofficially -
"Reestablish the sedation protocols in the cell holding Lady Proudmoore - I think we might have a chance to … extract her from the situation without any lasting side-effects, and that reduces the opportunity for whatever is trying to step through to try and strike a deal with her." Alleria ordered, and the emerald and gold figure stepped down and towards Jaina's prison.
"I don't think Lady Proudmoore -"
Like before, Alleria pressed on despite the interruption. "Lady Proudmoore is currently locked in a cell with the potential awakening of a rather nasty creature from the void just centimeters away from her own body. I think you'll find, Lieutenant, that the Lady Proudmoore might find this to be her best option."
" ...yes, Lady Windrunner."
She heard the hum of the arcane channels. Blackness swallowed her once more.
Pain brought her back.
There were more figures on the other side of the barrier, she counted six or seven. They were animated, ducking and weaving around each other.
Something was moving in the cell with her too, or instead, the whisper of movement kept brushing against her ears. It was impossible for anything to move in the cells, but the sensation that something was scuttling right along the nape of her neck would not go away.
Jaina wanted to call out to the people on the outside to hurry up, or fix this, or put her back under because the implication of what was attempting to breach through into the world right underneath her chin was starting to terrify her beyond rational thought.
One of the shapes moved in front of the barrier. They weren't familiar, neither were the colors they wore. "Lady Proudmoore, we're almost ready for the extraction. We're just doubling down on a few precautionary measures." The voice was male, gruff but unknown to her.
Jaina waited. What else could she do?
Alleria stepped into hazy view. She had taken on the void guise, her shape now a swarming coil of purple and black. "Lady Proudmoore, I trust you're more than eager to finish this. I'll be bringing you through the barrier itself while Sinclair activates it."
What.
Alleria pressed on. "It will be painful, and the beast that's in there with you will do everything possible to prevent you from stepping forward, but if you resist - there's a strong possibility that you die in there."
"Belore, Alleria, you don't need to be so blunt," Vereesa muttered.
"Don't I?" Alleria's gaze shifted from her sister back to Jaina. "When I reach you, you will hear … things. Do not listen. Go back to the training of an apprentice and clear your mind of all thoughts. Don't open your eyes, just follow me. When you feel my hands, walk."
How could she walk? The stasis barrier would send her directly back into oblivion? This sounded less like a plan, and more like an elaborate way to wind up dead - or ripped into pieces.
The barrier shimmered purple-black. The void sliced through the arcane wall and opened into an abyss that had a hundred-thousand twinkling stars in its depth. It was beautiful, and drained away the colors of the magical barrier around it. The void ate at the arcane until the gap was large enough for someone to step through.
Alleria Windrunner appeared in stunning clarity, a vision of purple, black, and a bone-white so stark that it reflected the colors within and around her. She was tall and muscular for the typical elf, and moved with a sinuous, predatory grace.
Despite the stasis-spell, Alleria easily reached forward and grasped at Jaina's arms, the void shimmering along her skin. Her hold hurt; like Jaina spent too long without actual contact. With careful motions, Alleria unfurled Jaina's arms from the ren'dorei, and then spent longer unwrapping something long and whip-like from around Jaina's own form. When Alleria pulled, Jaina felt her body following, but then -
KILLHERKILLHERTAKETHEPOWER!
That wasn't a whisper. It was a screech that pierced Jaina's eardrum and left her gasping. When she inhaled, her lungs squeezed down and refused to expand. A band cinched tight at her ribs. She gasped again, more from the pain, and lost another inch of air.
This close, the void poured from Alleria and left her touch ice-cold as she guided Jaina forward. Jaina struggled to remember the instructions: keep her mind blank, keep her focus ahead.
Another vice-grip, this time around her thigh. It bit down until Jaina couldn't feel her leg beneath it. Had it torn through -
"Don't look back," Alleria warned.
They passed through the actual barrier, the void gliding over her while the barrier struggled to keep everything still. The static raked along Jaina's skin, scoured her flesh like she'd been caught in a Tanaris sandstorm. She lost the last of her breath.
Air, crisp and fresh caressed her face. She could make out details now, her gaze could dart anywhere she willed herself to look. Alleria repeated her warning just as Jaina's attention skirted off to the left, at a strange coiling movement just outside her field of vision.
She had the feeling of staring into some vast empty space. Alleria tugged her attention back, and she felt cold and bereft.
"Jaina!"
Vereesa lurched forward and stopped only a foot or so away. Vereesa idled from foot to foot as another elf, this one from Silvermoon judging from the golden eyes that peered over her, approached from the upper level of the Hold. Two human priests followed, each held their battle-staff loosely in their grip, but the implication wasn't lost on Jaina. They would have wielded their magics and their weapons without thought if the extraction had gone wrong. They were also not among the living.
The first was a man she knew from reputation more than personal encounters. There had been a time when Jaina was younger that the name Alonsus Faol was known to nearly every subject within the northern kingdoms of Lordaeron, Gilneas, and Kul Tiras. The champion of the light and the mastermind behind the Order of the Silver Hand, Alonsus Faol had brought Lordaeron's legacy of knighthood to new heights, and it had been his vision that the Order had followed. When she'd learned of his death at the Scourge years later, it was as if a piece of Lordaeron's past itself died that day.
To see him now, though, meant to endure the slow mummification of the Forsaken condition. Jaina remembered one of his sermons, recalled how he had stood proudly upon the podium as he preached unity and dedication to the ideals of the Arathi Alliance. He hunched now, because his spine was unable to support his broad stature. His hair was straw, stuck to the dry, frayed edges of his face. His skin was taut, pulled along his muscles and bone like a scarecrow in the fields. His eyes were the same, she thought, a powerful gaze that seemed to stare straight through her.
"Lady Proudmoore," he rasped and bowed low. She returned the bow with a shaky incline of her head.
"Hello, Jaina."
Jaina turned to the second undead. She was no forsaken, brought back by the necromantic arts. At first glance, the woman still looked alive - though paler than perhaps would be healthy. A second glance revealed the subtle clues that gave her condition away. She didn't breathe, and she was so still.
Nothing like the girl Jaina had spent days in the countryside with.
No, Calia Menethil was a whirlwind of energy and youthful zeal in Jaina's memories. This woman was a statue charmed to move with eyes that were blank pools of gold, a direct mirror into the Light that infused her very core. Calia Menethil was no more than a marionette that moved only at the mercy of a will far stronger than her own.
Jaina supposed that was unkind, but she'd never forgiven her old friend for the decades of silence - for letting her think Calia had died, for leaving Jaina to fend through the aftermath of the third war alone.
"Queen Menethil," she said with a neutrality she didn't quite feel. Jaina fell back on years of diplomatic training and time spent in war rooms surrounded by enemies eager for the smallest window of opportunity. "I didn't realize this was supposed to be a viewing?"
Archbishop Faol chuckled. "While I'm glad for your safe extraction, High Priestess Menethil and I are here to oversee the nullification of the creature you managed to trap in the cell - clever thinking, that."
Alleria released her once the eldest Windrunner was finished with her own check-over of the mage, and sidestepped Jaina to approach the cell again when Jaina called her name. "Yes?"
"The - the elf I teleported," Jaina didn't turn to face Alleria. She looked straight ahead and used one of the torches as a focal point to steady her vision. "What's going to happen to him?"
"A quick death if fate's merciful," Alleria responded.
"Death?"
Alleria hummed, noncommittal. "You did the right thing, teleporting him. If he'd remained on the streets, we would have had some unwanted guests to take care of."
Jaina tried to exchange a glance with Vereesa, but the youngest Windrunner stared at her sister with an unreadable expression. Her ears constantly fidgeted, giving Jaina an insight into Vereesa's mind - but without a translation guide.
"I couldn't let him be put down like a dog in the street," Vereesa managed, finally. She sounded, well, Jaina wasn't sure how to categorize it, but heartbroken felt close enough. The youngest Windrunner watched Alleria head back to the barrier before she looked and gave Jaina a wan smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Jaina stared back, unsure of how to proceed. She reached out and squeezed Vereesa's hands in her own. After a second, Vereesa returned the gesture.
Archbishop Faol and Queen Menethil both met Alleria at the barrier and were joined by Turalyon and the Lieutenant. The only occupant beside Vereesa that hadn't gone to join them was the sin'dorei priestess.
Fair of feature, and timeless like all the elves, the priestess had soft copper hair and a lean cast to her facial expression that came off a bit too sharp with the torchlight. The shadows grew long over her, and though her eyes gleamed with the Sunwell's holy energy, Jaina swore she could see something darker swim through that gaze.
Vereesa made the introductions. The priestess was Merridath Swiftarrow - the champion that had managed to contain a dangerous artifact of the void. Sure enough, at the elven woman's hip was a pale sickle-shaped dagger. It held a central gem cut in the appearance of an eye, and as Jaina looked at it, she felt a cunning, cold intellect staring back.
Swiftarrow shifted, breaking the contact with an apologetic smile. "I'm fairly certain you're all right, but I'd like to bring you somewhere a bit more conductive towards healing and observation if you wouldn't mind?"
Jaina glanced to Vereesa, who gave her a tight-lipped smile that gave away nothing.
Behind her, she heard the hum of the arcane wards come to life.
"Lead the way."
Swiftarrow led them out from the Violet Hold. A crowd had gathered around the entrance, bodies packed tightly along the bridge for the chance at peeking into whatever had sent the prison into lockdown for the third time.
As they passed the initial throng, the open space at the back hosted several bands of adventurers checking over gear and preparing various tinctures that tickled the senses. Someone must have leaked information - Jaina just hoped that Alleria's assertion that they could handle the breach without outside assistance kept true.
Their journey wasn't too far after leaving the Prison district. There was a nearby flower and herb shop, with an older gnomish woman as the proprietor. The place smelled of dried herbs, magethorn and fadeleaf were predominant among the scents. The small shopkeeper grinned up at the three of them.
"Lady Swiftarrow, that bouquet for your daughter is almost finished, but I've got like," she tapped out on her fingers, "four questions to ask … you …" the gnome woman trailed off, voice fading as she noticed who Swiftarrow had brought with her, and the way Jaina swayed on her feet.
The shopkeeper launched into a flurry of action, hopping down from her stool and ushering them into the room itself. She flipped the sign to 'closed' and waved them into a back parlor. That done, she disappeared through the door again, and Jaina heard the clinking of cups.
Vereesa's glance around the room was polite, but her focus ultimately returned to Jaina. She sat down on a pile of cushions opposite a day couch and looked very much like a tense, coiled cat as she oversaw the priestess guide Jaina to sit on the couch next to her.
Swiftarrow reached and undid the clasp that held her dagger to her belt, and as that eye was exposed again, that cold, distant intellect returned to Jaina's awareness. It studied her just as she noticed and studied it in return.
Swiftarrow frowned, and tucked the dagger upon a nearby table, out of view. "Is she speaking to you?"
"She?" Jaina blinked, her attention moving towards the priestess.
Swiftarrow pointed toward the dagger. She didn't look convinced as Jaina shook her head. "Xal'atath. If she whispers, try your best not to listen."
Xal'atath. The name clattered in her skull like a rattlesnake's tail.
"Like the whispers that the ren'dorei deal with?" Jaina inquired. Swiftarrow considered a moment before she answered.
"In a roundabout way. I have one agent of the Void trying to corrupt me. She whispers, beguiles, and makes lovely promises. The ren'dorei battle hundreds at once, and have to manage being halfway corrupted as it stands."
Jaina thought back to that horrible, gaping maw of nothingness that she spied in the flesh of the writhing elf. "How do you control it?"
"Control is such a curious word. How exactly does one control chaos?" Swiftarrow arched a brow and brought up a hand to cup over Jaina's forehead. "Now, if you allow it, I am going to see through your mind - skirt along the surface so to speak, and see if you've kept any lingering effects from the time in stasis."
Jaina balked. While she understood that a visit to a priest after such an encounter would be the best course of action, having a priest scour through her mind - and an ex-member of the Horde.
Not just the Horde, but one of the Sin'dorei themselves. She might have had friends within the Sunreavers, and the last thing Jaina wanted were those memories to be dragged into the light.
Swiftarrow's hand hovered there, her lips curved into a bemused smile as she waited out Jaina's hesitation. "If you feel the need to confess, Lady Proudmoore, I'm afraid you'll need to find another priest. I have enough of my own burdens to be concerned with whatever ghosts are buried in your past."
That … wasn't reassuring at all.
Vereesa broke the stalemate, "Jaina?"
Jaina looked her way, then back to the Priestess. "Is this the only way?"
"Perhaps if I explained exactly what I'm going to do?" Swiftarrow lifted her hand slightly. "I've heard that you're one of the few humans actually interested in the theory behind the magic."
Jaina considered, then shook her head. "No, I'm just - no," she coughed. "Please, go ahead."
Swiftarrow waited for a beat longer, then nodded. She curled her right hand around the pale, sickle-dagger, and her left hand fell directly upon Jaina's skin.
The assault was immediate.
The priestess was an inferno. A scouring blaze that seared away shadows. Somewhere distant, there's another voice - a seductive, feminine voice that mocked and crooned words that slip through Jaina's comprehension.
She responded to it.
No.
A strange, hollowed-out portion of her responded to it. A part of her that feels intimately like what-if and regret and desire. The part of her that still wondered if her choices were the right ones, or that still longed to fix and adjust and change the world around her.
That blaze skimmed the surface of Stratholme, and Jaina plucked painfully at the temptations that still clung to that day in her mind. The blaze continued, touching on the purge of the Sunreavers, over the way the overwhelming power of the Iris held the entirety of Bladefist Bay's water at her fingertips. Over other, more private memories and wants. Vereesa's face flitted to the surface, her eyes bright with affection before the image faded.
And the priestess withdrew.
Swiftarrow's brow was drenched in sweat, and Jaina was surprised to find hers was as well. She touched a shaking finger to her forehead. She was warm.
"Well," Swiftarrow busied herself with reattaching the blade back to its place upon her hip. "You'll have some interesting dreams for a while, and I daresay a few nightmares, but your thoughts are still your own."
Jaina flicked a quick, secretive glance to Vereesa, then back to Swiftarrow. "So, I'm not going to turn out like …"
"Kivan?" Swiftarrow clipped the dagger with practiced ease. "No. You might be a little more aware of what the void's capable of, but you're still you. No threat of becoming an abomination and destroying all that you love."
Jaina blinked. Vereesa sucked in a painful breath that sounded like a hiss.
Swiftarrow shrugged with all the nonchalance of someone who's taught themselves the art of indifference to survive. Jaina understood that well enough. Sometimes to survive, you needed to cut away the softness - and sometimes, being nice got people killed.
Vereesa slumped back on the cushions, despondent and frustrated. She worried her hands, her knuckles white as she worked her hands again and again. "What we saw outside the Lounge - that will happen to all Ren'dorei?"
Swiftarrow opened her mouth, paused, then nodded. "That's the running theory. Eventually, the corruption will win. It's a matter of 'when' for them."
"Even Alleria?"
Swiftarrow shrugged one shoulder. "It's her theory."
Vereesa scowled. "She never mentioned it to me."
"I need to protect my baby sister somehow," Alleria spoke up from the entrance to the room, followed by the gnomish shopkeeper who carried a tea-tray.
Vereesa's scowl didn't leave as her sister entered, but she tracked Alleria's movement without blinking. "So what happened?"
"What needed to be done."
Vereesa's ears twitched, her eyes narrowed, and she was certainly not amused by Alleria's flippancy. Alleria, for her part, slumped with a sheepish apology and halted her approach. The indomitable aura about her faded under the glower from her youngest sister.
Alleria smiled politely. "I'm glad you're all right, Lady Proudmoore."
"Thank you for rescuing me."
Alleria's ears twitched down, and the smile she gave was a little more genuine. "Don't mention it." She glanced back to Vereesa, and looked like she wanted to speak more.
"Vereesa, I'd like to talk with Priestess Swiftarrow?"
Vereesa blinked, but caught onto Jaina's idea. "Of course." She stood up, brushing her leggings off. She seemed to have her own course of action in mind, because when she spoke next, her voice brooked no argument. "Come on, Alleria. I demand something stronger than tea for what you're about to tell me."
Alleria was pulled off-balance as Vereesa clamped a hand around her sister's forearm. "What am I about to tell you - and didn't you already work through a bottle of wine - gaah!" She stumbled to keep upright as Vereesa continued pulling her. "Uh, have a good evening, Lady Proudmoore?"
Jaina watched the sisters leave quietly and thanked the shopkeeper when she set a cup of steaming tea before her. She prided herself on keeping her hand from shaking too much as she picked up the cup to bring it to her lips. "Now, Priestess… what is the theory behind your mind-scour?"
Swiftarrow, who'd been a quiet observer since Alleria had entered, turned to Jaina with a curious tilt of her head, and launched into the beginning of magical theory. If Jaina's luck held out, she'd end the night on a progressive note.