"I think you'll be pleased with the festival this year darling. It's been so gloomy, raining for days and now the sun breaks out in time! And here they thought they were going to have to push back the start of it because of the weather. Iscah, are you listening? Iscah? Iscah!"
Iscah snapped out of her trance, looking sheepishly up at the man a dozen or so paces ahead of her. "Sorry," she mumbled, quickening her pace to catch up to him.
"You've been so distracted recently, have you been getting enough sleep?"
"Well, I think-"
"When I can't sleep I go train. It wears me out, but you cannot get as good as I am without it." He laughed boisterously, long strides near impossible for the young mage to keep up with.
The difference from them was night and day even at first glance. Truvien was tall and heavy-built, even more-so with the armor he wore. His hair was a glossy black and eyes a hard shade of brown, skin rough and calloused from his training and adventures.
Iscah was the opposite, petite with long white hair done up in a simple knot to keep it out of her azure eyes when she studied, which was often. She was not skilled in fighting, staying out of battles for the most part. A good book about a grand clash of the empires was more exciting than being in one to her. Why Truvien had taken an interest in the book-worm was beyond her, though the rest of Stormwind knew. Iscah's impressive family was the closest to nobility without being royal blood. Her older sister, a vivacious woman was the heiress to the amassed fortune, and a darling in the social world of Stormwind. She had been Truvien's first choice, but Analda had been married off to another elite worthy of her status, which left her shy, inverted younger sister the only choice left to get Truvien to such ranking. He had staked claims on the mage and she hadn't the spirit nor personality to tell him he wasn't even close to her type.
"Tonight I'll tell you the story about the great dragon I slayed last year. The beast took three days to kill. Three! Nonstop battle between it and I. What a great day that was. It couldn't have done it without your knowledge, Iscah. You told me what things I needed to do to deal it mortal blows."
They turned the corner into the trade district, the streets crowded with people. He pushed through easily, flashing his grin to the many he knew. Iscah struggled to keep up with him, the crowd surging around the two, threatening to carry her off in its current. This was not anywhere she wanted to be, the roar and clatter of people celebrating making her even more reclusive. He headed to the lines of tables filled with patrons enjoying the free drinks and sharing tales, leaving barely enough room at a bench for his date to sit.
"Here, drink up! It'll put hairs on your chest." He pushed a heavy mug of ale in front of her as soon as the tender set it before him, the golden liquid sloshing out of the massive container and all over her though he didn't notice, having heard his name called out by a friend. She yelped and tried to find something to dab the beer out with, jostled nearly off the seat as he stood up to clasp hands with a burly dwarf. The dwarf picked up the mug that Truvian had shoved in front of her and began drinking eagerly as her date began telling some other far-flung adventure.
The two didn't notice when she snuck off, breaking free of the sea of people and taking a deep breath of canal air. Her sky blue dress stank of the beer and her hair smelled of tobacco even in after the few minutes she had been at the festival. If that was his idea of a good time, he could enjoy it.
There was a book on time flux halfway done beckoning her anyways. And if he asked, she could always say she didn't feel good. Which she didn't!
As if to prove this to herself she coughed, happy enough with the sound to have a valid excuse before turning back to the Mage district. The narrow, curved streets were empty save for a rare couple that had stumbled from the crowds to find some quiet place to nurse their new-found emotions towards each other. She gave them a wide berth, not wanting to interrupt their escapades.
The walk back to her quarters she always enjoyed, stone paved streets giving way to a thick carpet of grass that never seemed to wear beneath the feet of those traversing it. The curved path lined with small shops and houses opened to a courtyard of trees and a stone tower where mages spent a good deal of time learning. She stopped to peer up at the architecture in awe for a brief moment before making her way north of it to the dormitories arching along the back wall of the city. The worn door gave way with a push easily, a small squeak from the hinges announcing her arrival though the place was vacant. Skipping past the impressive living room of vaulted ceilings and ancient paintings she took the back stairwell to the private dorm. Although it was a bit more expensive than the shared bedrooms it meant less interruptions and more time to read. Plus the view over the city roofs couldn't be beat.
A robust, older maid bustled by with a grin when she stepped aside in the winding staircase to let her by, and Iscah waved to her.
"Back from the festival so soon?"
"I'm not feeling well, a bit of a cough s'all," she lied rather poorly, but the woman didn't catch it, having taken rather a motherly attitude to the shy girl.
"Oh? I'm sorry to hear that. I have some tea downstairs that will help clear that up and soothe your throat. I'll bring it up as soon as I finish the laundry, will that be alright?" She motioned to the linens in her arms and Iscah nodded, cheeks coloring with guilt at the sympathy she was receiving.
Taking the last stairs by two to the fifth floor of the tower she pushed the oaken door open and shut it with her back, not bothering with the lock before crossing the small bedroom to the private bath.
The west tower was an all-girls dormitory, though men were allowed for visits and meetings. No one was there except her and the maid, and Truvian wouldn't notice she was gone for at few hours, if at all. Which meant peace and silence for the rest of the night and a chance to finish the book that was beckoning her.
Drawing a hot bath she sat on the edge of the tub to warm her fingers in the water, chewing on her lip in thought. The time flux studies was not helping her understand her dreams anymore than the last three-dozen books had. And she was too afraid to tell anyone about it for fear of being cast out from the mage society. Imagine, being banned from the library!
Peeling off the drenched clothes she stepped into the steaming water with a heavy sigh, washing the smell of the city off her skin before sinking back, resting her head against the lip of the tub and closing her eyes. She hadn't been sleeping well, Truvian had been right about that. The dreams of the troll would wake her up in the middle of the night, and she would spend the rest of the dark hours pouring over more books in search of an answer or antidote.
The lull of the bath relaxed her, drowning her worries and tugging her into a light sleep that began mingling dreams with reality. He sank down beside the bath and she felt his fingers slip across her exposed throat and his thumb trace her jawline as he pressed a kiss against her chin.
"Did you miss me?"
"Of course I missed you Apoch," she murmured out loud, catching the troll off guard. He froze, dagger poised over her throat as he stared in shock down at her.
She had spoke in troll.
It had been easy to stealth into the city. With the guards distracted with the drunks and rowdy crowds he barely even had to try. That had been the easy part, but finding the girl had been beyond his comprehension; he had just known. He knew the street, the building, the staircase and doorway, only to find her gone. And now she had come back early, the dorm all but vacant and the opportunity to kill her more than perfect.
He wavered, watching her serene face take on a little smile as she sat up a bit more to let her head crane further back over the lip of the bath, making the killing slice even more easier for him. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't force his hand to move those last few inches downward, to sink into her flesh.
It took him a moment to realize she had opened her eyes and was staring up into his. Neither moved as both tried to figure out what to make of the situation and how best to deal with it. And then he saw the panic set in her gaze, the water spraying everywhere as she leapt from the bath with a cry, bolting for the door. He caught her easily around the midsection and wrenched her back before she could make it out of the bathroom, cursing inwardly as she teleported out of his grip. The familiar sound of ice crackling stopped him from reaching her again, his feet frozen solid to the ground as she turned to face him breathlessly.
Her hands were glowing blue with the threat of an attack, and he shook his head slightly in response. Iscah hesitated, letting the gathering of energy spell fade before grabbing her dress off the floor to hide her nudity and running for the door again. She made it as far as grabbing the knob before a sharp pain to the back of her head sent shooting stars through her vision, collapsing across his arm as he kept her from hitting the ground.
He stood awkwardly for a moment before taking her to the bed, shoving the pile of books to the floor and laying her down. Returning to the bathroom he grabbed a fresh towel and draped it over her, pulling away to pace the small space of the room as he waited for the stun effects to wear off and make a decision on how best to deal with what had just happened.
Or rather, what wasn't suppose to happen. It had been easy. Too easy. Everything had been perfect and he hadn't taken the chance to kill her. He stabbed himself inwardly, unable to mute the growl that escaped his throat. What the hell was he waiting for, the old gods to strike her down themselves?
"Apoch."
His pacing froze in place, back turned to her. He listened as she sat up and drew the towel around her more securely, listened as she walked over to him before turning his head slightly to cast a belligerent glare at her as she approached.
She stopped to stare up at him in confusion, her heart racing in her chest. It was him, the troll from the dream. The candlelight played across his pale blue skin, making the crimson of his hair that jetted back away from his face in disarrayed spikes and eyes to match an even more brutal shade of red than what she remembered. His slim face was not dotted with the tribal tattoo's she was used to seeing in the pictures and rare sightings she had of his species, his tusks small and arching upwards in semi-circles from the corner of his mouth bone-white. She hadn't realized how tall trolls were until now, but then again she had never been this close to one before. Even slumped over she nearly had to crane her neck to look up into his distrustful stare.
"Why are you here? Why am I having these dreams about you?"
He leaned back away from her, obviously not understanding a word she was saying. He flexed his hand before returning the dagger to its sheath at his hip, a low, menacing growl rumbling from his throat as she moved closer to him.
"I know you without ever having met you and you know me too," she continued, words quickening as she saw the threat in his eyes intensify. "How is this possible!"
He grabbed her hand as she reached up to touch him, voice a ragged snarl of words she couldn't understand. But his painful grip she could as he shoved her backwards, stopping suddenly as his attention snapped to the closed door. He let her go and crouched, moving back, vanishing before her into the shadows as a knock sounded at the door.
"Iscah! Are you there? You snuck away from the festival I see, wrapped up in a book again?"
Iscah stared at the empty space in front of her, the second knock startling her into action. She rushed to the door and barely cracked it open, not leaving an escape route for the troll to try to sneak out of. Truvian was standing there, reeking of alcohol and swaying slightly.
"May I come in?"
"No no, I just got out of the bath an-"
"Oh come now I can close my eyes while you dress, if you tell me I have to anyways," he replied back, pushing the door open and stepping in past her. She hesitated before closing it, a small alarm sounding in the back of her mind at his blunt actions and lack of respect. He took her hand and pulled her against him as she shut the door, his smile foggy.
Apoch glared viciously at the two, unsheathing one of his two daggers in an instant once the man had barged into the room, and now he was touching Iscah. He could feel his blood burning in his veins, roaring for a sacrifice to appease his rage at the sight. There was no attempt to deny the jealousy he was feeling, no excuse for it as he moved closer to the couple. The man leaned down to kiss her, Apoch vaguely aware she had turned her mouth away before his lips could touch her own before the hilt of his blade collided with his skull in a resounding crack. He grabbed a handful of black hair as the man slumped, weapon whipping down to sever the spinal cord between his neck bones stopping as Iscah flung her arm between the dagger and its target. Apoch snarled at her, letting the man drop to the floor to strike her with enough force to send her skidding halfway across the bed. She barely had time to recover before he had pinned her between the mattress and his frame, her struggles ending abruptly as she felt his smooth tusk press up against her cheek and mouth move against her ear. Everything about him she became acutely aware of despite the pain he was inflicting on her wrists, breath caught in her throat at the soft hiss of his foreign words.
"You are mine. Mine alone, mine to kill or hurt or touch. No one else's, Iscah!"
He recoiled from her and disappeared once again as the door opened, the maid bustling in with a tray of tea and biscuits. She stopped in her tracks as she stared down at the clump of a man on the floor, her mouth dropping as she looked back up to the girl sitting in stunned silence on the bed.
"Are you alright, dear? What happened?"
"I'm fine. He passed out," she fibbed quickly, hoping the dim light of the room hid the knot forming on his head. "Can you call some guards to take him home?"
"Of course, of course. I'll go tell them right away." She set the provisions down and hurried out, leaving Iscah behind to try to figure out what exactly had happened. Without having to check she knew Apoch had snuck out when the maid had entered, leaving her alone and wondering if it was all some strange dream. Taking one glance at her bruised skin she knew it wasn't, letting out the breath she hadn't realized she was still holding. Sliding off the bed she stepped over Truvian and pulled a fresh set of clothes out from the armoire, dressing in silence as she waited for the guards.
They came promptly with the maid barking at their backs, having to carry out the knight who was snoring away happily. Iscah could only hope he was drunk enough not to remember what had happened.
"Poor soul, a rather bad night for you," the older woman crooned, smoothing back Iscah's hair from her face before picking up the clothes and towel from the floor after the guards had left. "A good night's rest will help settle you down, you look so frayed around the edges now!"
Iscah tried to interject but the woman continued, so she stayed quiet beneath the attention and let her cluck her way back out the room, promising to go to bed promptly and eat a healthy break fast in the morning before the door finally closed and she was left alone once more.
Fully alone, this time. At least she hoped anyways. For a long time she didn't move from the small chair the maid had left her in near the window, trying to make sense of what had happened. He had tried to kill her? Was that it? Why had he hesitated, or been so brutal and yet, what, attracted to her? Was that what she could call it? Her cheeks burned at the memory of his body against her own, drawing her knees up against her chest and perching her chin atop them. Apoch had seemed a mass of confusion, if not more so than her own.
But more importantly, he wasn't just a dream anymore. He was real. Her heart fluttered a moment before she willed it to calm down, chewing on her nail until she reached the quick and drew blood, wincing painfully. It made even less sense than it had before, but she had a vague realization that she was in fact relieved that he was real.
Shaking her head she unwound from the chair and crawled into the bed, curling up beneath the comforter and staring sleepily out the window. Tomorrow she would talk to the Archmages and seek their counsel on what was happening. There was little doubt books would not be able to tell her what was happening anymore. And of course, all of this relied on her surviving the night if he didn't return to finish what he had obviously had in mind to begin with. Despite the feeling of impending doom she fell asleep quickly.
She followed the stream northward through the thicket of woods, brushing the verdant green branches away from her path, pausing at a small clearing to survey the scenery. The rains had given life to the area, leaves trembling in the small breeze that managed to weave its way through the forest. Dark earth flecked with shadows and light gave off a strong scent that mingled with the sharp edge of pine and aspen. She turned at a small sound, Apoch stepping out from the foliage and stopping before her. A smile lit her face and she crossed the distance between them, both embracing each other for a moment before he drew away enough to look down at her.
"Were you followed?"
"No, I was careful like you told me to be."
He smiled, cupping her face in his hand and leaning down to touch his lips to her own, the movement cut short at the sound of something impacting flesh. She blinked and stared at the arrow that had buried in his shoulder as he stumbled, both turning to catch sight of the archers with their sights trained on the troll, Truvien ahead of them, his sword out and face contorted with rage.
"Stop! Wait!"
But it was too late, the volley had been released. Iscah flung herself in front of him, the sensation of the arrows piercing her body pure agony. Her scream was lost in the echo of his own.
