Plot and Characters are mine, Blizzard owns Warcraft, k.

Some Vulgarity.

Chapter 3

I didn't sleep well for the next few nights. It wasn't because of the dream's recurrence. No, it wasn't that. Of course, my subconscious continued to play dirty tricks on me, taunting myself to become angry and confused. Rather, I had these vision things, where a lady of sheer light would speak to me, tell me some crazy prophecy, and then disappear into nothingness. Odd? I guess. Ale did wild things to you, if you weren't paying attention. I usually wasn't drunk, but of course, I was running low by the end of the first week. I needed something to keep me from lashing out. We had made it to Southshore, at the very least, thanks to my stern persistence. I was humble enough to let the Paladin ride Dante. I really wasn't interested in hearing her bitch about how tired she was, and she often was exhausted, thanks to Chii's thirst for mana. Hearing her go on and on about this or that! And I had thought that gnomes were petulancies!

She was extremely irritating. The Elf did whatever she could to piss me off and sometimes she was successful. She whined about this or that, that it was too hot, or too cold, or that her back hurt from sitting on the horse for so damned long. We both knew that she was perfectly fine, but she continued. At night I drained her of her mana by letting Chii suckle her leg while I rested. Dante and I did all the walking, and even the demonic horse grew tired. But Chii was pestering as well if he didn't get his daily treat (the elf). I had also noticed that the Elf had grown thiner over the past week, since she refused to eat. She always went on about glory and how she would rather die of starvation, yadda, yadda, yadda. Fine. Whatever. But I always fished at night, as I always chose to camp out next to a lake or a river, and enjoyed fresh meat while I heard her stomach growl. Occasionally from the corner of my eye, I'd catch her licking the remnants from the bones, but I tossed them out of her hands. She didn't want my offerings, then she didn't get my scraps. Simple as that. Then she complained about not getting any privacy while bathing. God, what a nuisance; but this always did trip me up. She knew that I was attracted to her and I guess I was. She was pretty, slim, curvaceous. And I did watch her while leaning against a tree usually. Sure, why not? At first she was humiliated, but after day three, she got over it and began to torture me some. She'd bathe in full view and rub her skin with the few herbs that she had stolen from my backpack. Fine, so be it. I could handle that. Least... I told myself that over and over. Whatever, it's not like I was going to let her win. I forced her to watch as well, when I chose to bathe. This of course, was amusing. She'd blush and try to look away, but I'd walk over to her and pull her face back and intentionally, would I brush my body against her. This would flare her up with several emotions; the usual five: Anger, Embarrassment, hidden Delight, Lust, and Curiosity.

She wanted to play a game, and I knew enough about gambling to know a few tricks myself.

I guess you could say I received some honor while in Southshore. The townspeople were pleased of my sudden success. The Elf held her head high and scowled at the meaningless insults the people tossed towards her. She didn't care, they didn't know her. It was useless to try and weaken the Paladin, unless it was about sex or her personal life. She hated it when I asked her things while we were in Southshore, in my usual room in the inn. She would lay on the ground and myself on the bed during the night. I basically prevented her from getting any sleep while we made our stay. In two days, a boat would arrive from Menethil, where we would take another boat to Stormwind, with only a single stop at Ratchet for supply shipments.

On the first evening of our stay, I was resting on top of the mattress, with my eyes closed. She was angrily glaring at the wall, huddled together.

"So you've never been with another member of the Horde, hm?" I began, almost casually.

"I refuse to reply to anything you ask." She sighed, rubbing her arms, " It's not like you care."

But the phrase, It's not like you care, implied that she wanted me to continue to ask her until she snapped. Or at least, that was how I interpreted it. She would avoid my questions, or fold her arms and raise her head in defiance. I was just curious and I intended to at least find out somethings about her.

"So I'm guessing that because you continue to avoid my questions, by acting all high and mighty, I'm assuming that you have indeed, never been with a man. Interesting."

"Assume what you like, I don't care."

"And by all means, I will assume. You see, I'm bored, and not interested in getting buzzed up on alcohol. Though, I guess I could summon my succubus and have her teach you how to be a bit more seductive."

This caught her off guard, she raised an eyebrow and was lightly blushing. She seemed to want nothing more than to chop my jaw off so that I couldn't talk. She hated me, quite frankly. Fine, I didn't mind. A lot of people hated me, this wasn't new.

"So there's no one on the Horde side who's going to miss you?"

"You jerk, of course there will be people who lament my death. But it won't be in vain. At least I'll have died –

"With honor, I heard you for the 300th time, thanks. But no man will seek revenge for your honorable death?"

She laughed and gave me a, Real Amusing, look. I laughed and grinned. "Then I guess it's about time I asked you about that dream you had when I captured you. Since you've never been with a man, I'm assuming it's the man you've always, no pun intended, dreamt of?"

Rolling her eyes, she tried to ignore me – I had hit a weak spot in her armor. I was curious, even about my own dream. I wanted to know more about it, and if hers was similar. Clearly it could have been, because of her reaction when she saw me. I knew that feeling. That, what in the hell just happened, kind of feeling. It was probably just some stupid thing caused by the ale on my behalf; I had no idea what was her reason. But it made me think more deep, one could say, into it. This usually ended up in my emotions flaring and cursing to myself. I had no idea what it meant, and I really did want to find out, but I was also slightly afraid of the possibilities. Did it mean that this was meant to be? That I was going to become some noble person struck aback by love of another being? I doubted it. Again, it was probably just the ale... But I was too curious to settle with this idea. I sighed. If only I had some fruity druid I could talk to, someone close by, who could help me. I didn't want it to end up that way, because it was too conflicting with my own previous loves. Gold and beer. If I didn't turn in the prisoner, no ale, no money... But her.

But it was impossible. She hated me. How in the hell would we get from hate to love with my attitude and her annoyance? In the dream we had gotten past that. But now, God no. We were at each others throats. Angered by my own confusion, I summoned for my voidwalker, Klathrath, to this world, ordering it to watch the Elf. She was asleep now, too weak to stay up most likely. I left the room and walked downstairs to see Neema and Samuel talking. Neema was the one to notice me first. She glared at me and moved away from her husband to me.

"What in the bloody hell do you think you're doing bringing that thing here?"

"The Elf, or my demons, Neema?"

The bar mistress rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. "Don't play stupid, Nicholas. This is serious. What if that thing gets loose?"

"I doubt she would try to reek havoc on Southshore, most likely she would be running. From who, well me of course. Or well, you, you're a force to be reckoned with. Your eyes are burning into my skull with your fury." I chuckled, and reassured her, "Theres nothing to worry about. She's under my voids control. It has a strong bond, theres a very slim chance of her escape, and even if she did, I told you, she would run."

Feeling the sting of defeat, Neema walked off, over to her husband, who stood beyond the counter cleaning mugs, and kissed him on his slightly wrinkled cheek before disappearing up the stairs to her room. "Samuel," I spoke calmly. He seemed slightly perturbed about something as well. I wasn't surprised, I'm sure anyone in this inn was at the moment. The little elf was probably a slayer of many Alliance people. "Is there something you wish to speak about?"

My tone was serious and the older man took the chance. "I'm just worried about you, Nicholas. That Elf looks like a lot to handle."

"She is, quite a pest."

"Beyond that, I mean. Don't deny it. I watched the way you looked at her while in the inn, earlier. I've seen the look, I've known the feeling. They are alluring creatures." Samuel looked slightly ashamed, but his words were serious as I leaned against the counter. "Are you telling me that you think I'm getting too involved?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "She's just an elf. Just a prisoner." I reassured him.

He nodded, but my reply didn't satisfy him. "I know you. I've seen you with other women, but never have I seen you look so controlled by one."

"Wait, controlled? You think she's the one in charge? You're mad. I'm obviously in control."

"Not like that." Samuel explained, "You looked lost about something while looking at her, confused almost. It was as if you were obsessed about something related to her."

"I'm not obsessed. She's a Horde! No way. I may tease them, but I don't become obsessed."

"I beg to differ."

But just his words had set me off guard again. He was speaking to me about what I was so very divided by. Her. The Elf. How she could piss me off so easily, yet send my mind into chaos while I watched her bathe, or talk, or sleep – or anything! It all was because of that damned dream! Had I never experienced it, I would be up in my room, sleeping about the money and courtesans I could have. But no, I dreamed of ladies of light and elves.

"It's probably just guilt." Guilt? That was possible. My guilt could be channeled through some off base emotion.. Yes, of course! Guilt. Why hadn't I realized this before! Because I had never felt this before.

"Possibly. But don't deny yourself. Don't ignore it. You can tell me, Nicholas."

I stared at he older man. Could he understand? He was already half way informed. I assumed that he as an older man with more experience than I, could. Feeling that there was no choice but to explain to Samuel, I sighed and began telling him of the dream I had had five days ago. He listened openly, holding back his shock, in order for me to continue. I was careful with the details; I didn't want to look like some traitor in the eyes of a man who I trusted. Nonetheless, the old man nodded his head and seemed somehow capable of not taking it all wrong. I then told him of the recent dreams of the Lady of Light.

"But what I don't understand is this prediction she tells me. It describes people whom I do not know, nor have heard of. The setting is of a land I've heard little of and she speaks in riddles, in tongues I don't understand in reality." I ran my hand through my hair, grazing the burn scars lightly. I sighed. It was all so very confusing. Everything that had happened since I had captured the Elf... was crazy in my mind. I couldn't comprehend things normally, I was lost in unconsciousness. And this was beyond agonizing. "I then..." I clear my throat and try to maintain the distinction that I was not losing it, "I then see the prediction before me. A human girl with long black hair, bangs and pale green eyes drinks a vial with a murky yellow mixture inside. Her body contorts, she screams as she trembles and twitches violently for a minute – some kind of transformation. In the background, I hear a shrilly, horrified and muffled scream. Across from the human girl is a dainty elfish creature with faintly glowing eyes who is crying and struggling in her captor's hands. She finally breaks free and runs over to the twisted flesh of a dead human. I believe her words were, 'How could you do this to me? To her? Arìs, fight it! Fight it! Don't give into the Scourge! We can fix things, you know we can... Oh Arìs!'

"And then the human girl awakens, her eyes now a deathly blue and her skin significantly fainter than before. She is handed a blood stained sword and a vile grin spreads across her face as she stands up. 'I've been waiting for you Jae... dearest sister, I finally will have my revenge for the life you stole...'"

And then the dream fades as I hear another voice urgently call for "Jae" to climb upon a Bronze Drake. She takes a outstretched hand pulling her away from her sister who's intent is to spill Jae's blood." I sighed. So confusing. I closed my eyes nearly tearing at my hair. What in hell did it all mean? Why was this vision haunting my thoughts?

"I always knew that despite your past, you would somehow grow beyond it."

"What in the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You know; you clearly do. I knew that you were prone to be dragged into such things, you're young. You can still change things. This Elf could be the very thing you need."

"They'res nothing to change." I replied sternly, defensive almost, "Nothings changed. I'm the same person. Just because this fucking Elf is here, doesn't mean I'm changing. I'm a member of the valiant Alliance, nobly serving my King in his absence. Why, you know me. Always eager to help the dear old governing officers." I was trying so hard not to sound sarcastic. But Samuel could only shake his head in disagreement. He knew quite well I was lying. I hated royalty, I hated being the son of a selfish bastard who couldn't even cry at his own wife's death. I hated being everything about the Alliance. Their cocky attitude, their smug and disgusting way of life. Meh, I was a hypocrite. All of it had rubbed onto me. I was just as bad as them, and it couldn't be helped. Life had been cut into stone the moment I listened to my mother scream a few doors down from my own in the infirmary. But what could you do? You can't change the past. One little domino, one little thing – that's all it takes – topples over onto the other... and you can't stop it. That's how fate worked.

"Samuel, I know who I am. I know that these dreams are just because of the ale –

"Indeed, you have been drinking a lot more lately." A fine observation, my friend. But he was merely stating the obvious. I had drunk at least a bottle or two a night until it knocked me out. I despised hearing her try to annoy me to death. At least the ale toned things down. God, what a nuisance. Elves, whether they were Night Elves or Blood Elves, they were forces to be reckoned with, much like Neema (though of course, Neema could be placed into her own category. She was far from human sometimes).

"Besides, what difference would it make. This Elf hates my guts. I don't blame her. I've been this way since she died, my mother. And you know why. Don't toss the past aside just because it's apart of yesterday. I'd rather not make anymore stupid mistakes or generalizations."

"Yes, of course you respect what occurred, but also realize that it did happen. Don't let it impair or cripple – "

"I'm not crippled." I interrupted, rolling my eyes.

" – you.. this could be your chance of a lifetime. Don't let it slip through your fingers, or you'll regret it all your life. This could bring a lot of good into your life, you direly need it, no offense."

"So what, I should just be nice to the prisoner, a fiend in the eyes of many? Somehow become pleasant to her? She wouldn't buy it. I don't know anything about her."

"Find out more about her."

"Christ, I'm shocked an honorable member of our fine faction is telling me to relate to a member of the horde. Man, what's this world coming to." Sarcasm stung my words heavily, a venomous statement. "Nicholas... you know what I mean. I've always been one to believe in destiny. Whether she's on our side or not, don't fight it. Lady Fate finds a way."

"Whatever you say, Samuel." I stood up all the way then, stretched my back, then walked out the inn door, "I'm going to go get some fresh air. Good night."

Outside, the dim moonlight shimmered over the stone and wooden buildings. The air was fresh, clean pine air. I walked quietly up the main road, staring at the cobblestone and dirt path beneath my soles. The town was silent beyond the rustle of the branches in the wind. To the right, were homes with tiny shutters covering the windows were people slept calmly. Bah, they weren't troubled by such thoughts, such visions. I didn't want to think about her. That's why I had left the inn. But her presence lingered, hanging on my mind like a dead, limp weight. This was partly because of the demonic bond the voidwalker and I shared, which would alert me should something happen. Through it's connection, I could feel her, sense her holy aura from miles away; I could reach out from my mind and grasp her conscience and see what she saw or dreamed, but only through the demon's bond, as well as letting it consume almost all my energy. I was nearly out of it, I didn't need to speed up the process.

It's amazing, seeing what creatures do when they're desperate.

We spent three days in Southshore, waiting for a ship to arrive, which would take us to Menethil. Of course, the vessel had arrived late due to a storm along the Arathi coastline. Samuel's words were like a broken record in my mind. I pondered about them, letting them dawdle in my conscience while we waited for yet two more days. Neema was her usual self, full of contempt and hatred toward the blood elf when she came into our room to bring her meal. This was my way, of course, of torturing the ole' sea hag. Served her right, I didn't know what the hell was her problem, it wasn't like Elirina was so wild elf beleaguering Neema whenever she came in. No, the elf would simply watch her. I figured that they each had something that they had to learn. That contempt simply was a waste of energy. After the first three days in Southshore, Neema began to ignore her dislike, and I guess tried to be more civil. When this happened, I'd be sleeping in my room, or downstairs drinking some ale and then asking Chii what went on. I guess you could say they had "girl" talk. According to Chii, the last night of our stay, was the most peculiar of evenings. Neema and the elf were having a conversation about myself, the first time I had come up in a conversation since we had arrived. I assumed that over these two days the two of them had become close in some confusing, unusual way. Neema didn't really have anyone to talk to other than the woman who sometimes passed by, or would she listen to the occasional gossip that spread throughout the land. So this was new for her.

Chii, unfortunately was vague about the details, but the elf had explained her dream the night of her capture to Neema...

"I don't understand a word of it, I really don't... It's all so very confusing. I don't want this, I don't want this to be happening. If I had known that the stealing of such documents was going to lead to this, I think I would have just ignored it..."

"It's that bad?"

"He's a hedonist, obviously, I'm sure you've noticed...Listen, I know that my people have done the Alliance wrong, with the whole "Sunwell" and being apart of the 3rd war, and such, but Neema, I really must ask you something. I haven't been able to talk to a female for nearly a month now. It's impossible to think clearly with him around, it's like some mind-boggling, combative conflict in my mind." She paused, running a hand through her auburn hair. "You have to understand, I've never been with a man... not in this kind of way. I have no idea what I'm doing, I could just be mistaking this all for extreme despise... He wants me dead! Not because of my actions, but because he enjoys it! He's so confusing, so twisted and yet disturbingly charming. I.. I don't know how to interpret this..."

Neema's dark brown eyes stared intently into her green orbs, not repulsed or angered at the sight in front of her, "You have to understand, Nicholas may be unreasonable, nearly intolerable... but, they'res something beneath him. Trust me. I met his mother once, when they were traveling to Stormwind for his brother's funeral. She was a lovely woman. Petite, gentle, who silently lamented her son's death. They waited here for two days as well, waiting for the ship to Menethil. We talked, I met her younger son, Nicholas, who at the time was 11. A bit naïve, but despite his age, he was growing into a fine young man. There was no doubt in my mind that he would be successful and happy, despite the loses. He was a dreamer, he still is.

"You have to understand that everything has a cause and effect, everything happens for a reason, or at least I live my life believing that. There was a fire in Stormwind, three years after their arrival there." The elf's eyes were hard, almost as if she were remembering the burn scar on my face as she watched Neema, "It nearly killed him, burned him head to toe on half of his body. His mother died of an infection from the open wounds. Had it not been for her, Nicholas would either be dead, or in a far graver state at that time. It was entirely an accident, yet he blamed himself for it... I guess you could say that when I heard the news, I was horrified, and I urged for him to come stay with us. You know, Samuel and I never had any children, a tavern isn't the place for children, though I felt connected to Nicholas. Like a son, almost. He never came, until 10 years later, as the man he is now."

"I'm sorry."

"There is nothing to be sorry about. Nicholas made his choices, he's an adult, I can't control him. I only wish that he would have not been so reckless as he has been over the years."

"That explains a lot, it really does." The elf smiled half-heartedly as her eyes casted toward the ground. "I guess I'm jumping to conclusions, I'm not giving this much thought because I know that in th end he'll either kill me, or simply let the alliance guard take care of it."

"You never know."

This conversation was relayed to me that night, in demonic by Chii while I took a walk outside. It was amazing how much I truly had to respect Neema for all the things that she did for me. I had suddenly felt so horrible, disgusted in myself for my cruelty that she bore. God, it made me so angry! All this trouble, just because of the elf. Sheesh.

It was something I had to take account of, I guess, for I couldn't deny that something was indeed happening. But the night passed, and the shipped arrived, late. Everything was spelling disaster or uncertainty. The elf was extremely hard to be near now. There was no where to run, no where to hide in our tiny cabin room on the boat. There were only three other people traveling to Menethil by this route. A merchant, who would also be joining us on the trip to Stormwind, a rogue and a mage. Since room was scarce due to it being a cargo ship, we were crammed together in the leftover compartments. I greatly hated this. There wasn't much room on the ship's deck, and there was a medium size galley for meals and general interaction with those else on board. The mage, a female draenai with fair light blue skin, was probably my only means of escape in terms of something to do. She told me about her life, where she was coming from on her journey of perfecting her talents. I hated sitting in the room, just staring at the ceiling hearing her sleep quietly in her corner of the room, so she was something different in my life. Her name was Elysia. The rogue, on the other hand, was a cutthroat member of the Argent Dawn who was also heading to Stormwind with news of the battle there. I personally did not know much of this war and I was curious to know what it was about beyond Scourge invasions. While playing poker, the rogue, the mage and I discovered several new things, things I had never realized throughout my life. I had no idea of the extent of tragedy and dislocation that the people of those towns had felt. The Battle for Darrowshire, they said, was the worst so far. I knew nothing of the despair and lament that the Argent Dawn saw every day while fighting for these lands. I guess that wasn't my thing. I didn't enjoy war. War was just another thing to deteriorate the mind. In other news, the rogue knew about a land called Northrend. This caught my attention, because the dream mentioned Northrend. The snowy wasteland was barren for the most part, but there were plenty of rumors, according to Allen, the rogue, that something was going to happen there in the near future. Elysia agreed, the priests of the Argent Dawn could sense turmoil stirring in the midst of the terror already. Northrend, I had heard that word several times in my sleep, as well as once in real life. Northrend was the land my father was shipped off to. I had heard nothing of him since my Mother's funeral, I knew nothing of the land, or what lied there. No one really knew.

Inside my cabin, I tried to fall asleep for the longest time. Thoughts raced through my head, notions, ideas, things that simply did not want to let go. I think it was because of her, the elf. Well, I didn't really have to think about. It was something I knew, she was always doing something to bother me... as always... this wasn't new. It was, I guess, a chilly evening at sea. The storm that had delayed the vessel was still bombarding the coast with rain and wild winds. The ship swayed, sometimes gently and sometimes coarsely making my head even more dazed and off. Everything was like a horrible combination of petulances that kept me off guard. She was curled up into a ball, staring at me as I laid in the bed, trying desperately to fall asleep. Huddling to stay warm, I could hear her teeth clattering and her breath come in sharply. This wouldn't do. I couldn't sleep knowing this, the guilt was finally getting to me.

Sighing, I sat up and returned her gaze, almost inquisitively. Her eyes followed every move that I made as I moved over to her. I knelt before her peering at her in the darkness. Could she see me? How panicked I was inside? How I had evolved over the days had amazed me. She was innocently confused when I picked her up and moved her to the bed. For a moment she freaked out, worried that my intentions were different – heh. No, she calmed down when she saw me leaving. I couldn't handle the tension that I was creating. I was flaring up underneath my tunic and trousers.

That night, when I returned, she was asleep. Slightly in a haze from some light alcohol, I got into the sheets next to her with my right arm propping me up. Her expression caught me off guard. She was like a dainty angel, with light eyelashes resting on her cheeks and the soft sigh of her lips. I figured she was dreaming away, lost in her own reality, her freedom, her happiness. I simply laid there, watching her. What else was I supposed to do? I couldn't sleep for crap, I couldn't think clearly, I couldn't do anything inside the crammed room, I couldn't go on a walk with the pouring rain – not a thing to do! At that moment, I began to hate traveling my boat intensely.

I let my mind wander. It was becoming so late in the evening, that I really was not in tune to my thoughts, I was off, tipsy and sluggish. I thought about the future, just thinking, pondering the idea of my previous dream life. Wife, child, home. The three things of my past. Ale, women, gold. The three things of the present. But what of the future? What of the world of tomorrow? What then? By all means, there was someone out there laughing wildly, someone who knew this was going to happen. I guess there were plenty of warning signs. But then again, it could be mistaken for several things. I was jumping off the rail, diving into something that could have been trifling matters. But even such sordid thoughts were appealing. I loved the idea, but it was so hard to let go. You become dependent on things, things that become a cripple and a strength all at once. There isn't a way to combine them, only a way to break them apart further, or entirely. You can't just have these feelings one day...

A large jolt erupted as the contents of the tiny room slid to the right some, tipping. The bed crashed into the right wall, leaving a slight dent. I could hear both the elf and the person next door stir, grouchy most likely. The vessel was swaying in the heavy winds and rain, as most boats did during storms such as these. Mist fell through the window as the wind changed direction, blowing droplets of heavy rain into the room. Now the elf was really waking up, bothered by the sudden extra chill in the room. She looked up, blinked and noticed me.

"The storm must be getting worse, the ships swaying vigorously." She nodded, rubbing her eye, yawning faintly. She was about to go back to sleep, when she sat up, turned and began, "Your name is Nicholas, isn't it?"

"Indeed it is. Neema told you it, didn't she."

"Ya, she did. I asked. You know, you could have honored me by telling me."

But even in the faint light, I could see that her cheeks were darker some. Her eyes were wider, and her breathing was once again hitched. "Why... why do you have that burn on your face" She asked after dead silence.

"You already know."

"I know but... what happened."

"There was a fire in Stormwind."

"But, obviously it must have been a crazy – "

"Stormwind didn't have an efficient infirmary with doctors and priests at the time."

"I see..." She reached out and touched my cheek, moving lightly over the scar, almost as if she were trying to read the memories that rushed back to my mind. The flames, the charred flesh, my mothers last words, her screams from down the hall, my own... She's just messing with you, she's just...

But my thoughts became stalled as I let my eyes close. I took her hand in mine and I sighed. What was I supposed to do? There was poison in this rain as it lightly blew against my face from the open window. I was losing it. In the darkness, her eyes fell in a hopeless manner. She looked away, towards the pillow, squeezing it tightly, gripping my hand as well. "Are you really that greedy – that cruel? That cold-hearted, to simply just not let me go? To just set me free and live on with your life? Surely there must be something you enjoy, something more to your life?" Her voice was weak, trembling and lost.

Silence filled the air again as I contemplated. "As Neema told you, and as you stated, I have nothing waiting for me other than a pile of gold and some drinking buddies in Stormwind." I was defensive, state of factish and clear.

"But is that, are they really that important to you?"

No, they aren't. I spoke in my mind. Quickly I closed my eyes, blocking that out. "I can't stay traveling without the usual ale or courtesan as well as a pile of gold to buy it all."

"But there is nothing else, nothing else to your life?"

"As you clearly stated, I'm a hedonist."

"...wait a minute." The realization was coming over her. That I had been listening in on their conversations, or that I had conveniently placed Chii inside my room while I was gone. She let go of the hand that I was holding, disgusted, "You... you dirty fiend! How dare you destroy my privacy in that way!" She was flaring with anger, "I knew you were a monster, but I didn't think it was this bad!"

A... monster...?

The term at first didn't register, I felt like a strong blow had been taken to my chest, like the wind had been knocked out of me. I had been called worst things, sure... but hearing it from her... it all, fell onto me. I couldn't reply with anything, I couldn't think without self-pity, without the idea of how horrible of a person I was, damnit! This wasn't supposed to happen! I froze before her, shutting my eyes and feeling the sting of cold defeat. I ran a hand through my hair, trying desperately to recompose myself. "Well... did you think I was going to be a Knight in shining armor? A hero in disguise, despite the demons and curses? The title, Knight...its simply that, just a title."

"It's a worthless existence then."

"I guess."

"How can you live this way!?"

"I manage, I'm pleased as I'll ever be."

"But you don't know that, Neema said – "

"Neema is an old woman who believes in true love, fairy tales, happy endings and good overcoming evil. She believes that the Alliance are good and that the Horde are evil. She thinks your evil, corrupt. She's a blind old woman who doesn't know a damn well thing about me. She lives in the idea that change comes secretly. It's not that simple! Life isn't a god damn children's picture book with rainbows and cordial knights who escort the princess to the castle. You make your choices, you fucking deal, and you get on with life. That's how I live. If you don't like it, then shut your mouth and go back to bed." I scowled for a moment, without realizing what I had just said until the second after. I panicked. I felt that I had made a crucial mistake and I quickly tried to say something else. I couldn't let my chance, although I was barely realizing it, for... But, in the end, she beat me to it.

"Wait, Eli, listen –

" Don't you dare call me 'Eli', you sick bastard. How dare you tell me to close my mouth, I really shouldn't take any of your rude, meaningless behavior from you. I don't need a sword to punch you in the face, I don't need armor to defend myself. I ought to... But of course, I can't, now can I? You think you're so superior with your silly bond. If you were a real man, you wouldn't defend yourself in this way, you would fight me, bond with rope or kill me instantly. A real man doesn't hide behind magic or dresses. A real man fights like one, a real man kills with his bare hands instead of controlling their body to death. No, just because you think you're so powerful, doesn't mean you are. And you think that just because you're unhappy with your life, that everything else is horrible as well! You don't give life a chance! I don't know what the hell happened to you during those ten years, but it twisted you! Neema had so many hopes for you, she cared for you! Worried about you after your mother's death! Would want your mother to see you like this? As an odious, sinful man? You, Nicholas, are a gluttonous man who will suffer for eternity for your petty, wasteful life. What could be so miserable that you couldn't just grow up! You're clinging to something that isn't real, that doesn't care. You're a waste of flesh, a waste of breat –

My sullen expression suddenly caught her off guard. It wasn't one of hatred or sudden viciousness. Everything she said, everything, every single thing shook me. Her venom was flowing through my veins, infecting each part of me. I felt an ache in my chest as she defended herself bluntly. I couldn't look at her, I felt disgusting, sick. For the first time it seemed in years, I felt true guilt, true remorse. How easily her words or emotions could influence me, turn me from annoyed and angered to beaten and torn. I sat there, feeling the pinch of her words stinging me as a whole. I looked back up at her, my eyes catching hers in a sincere glance. I pulled her to me slowly, so that I could solemnly mutter in her ear,

"I'm sorry for being a monster."