Taemmur woke to the sound of rain.
He opened his eyes and stared out past the heavy Thunder Lizard hide that made up his door at the downfall. Kazhan shifted at the end of his bed, paws scratching lightly at the sheets as though he was chasing the killers of his former master in his dreams. Shifting up onto an elbow, he reached down and patted the wolf's head, making him snuffle and fall into a deeper sleep in response.
Falling back onto his bed, he frowned out at the storm and brooded on the events that would begin occurring on this now dreary day. Chanasai would be arriving to gather him in a few hours and they would be off on a zeppelin to the Eastern Kingdoms.
Just as he was about to drift back to sleep he heard the sound of shuffling feet outside and sat up, blinking at the low sound of Gutterspeak being spoken. He knew only a few words in the tongue the Forsaken had chosen to speak as their own and the one he picked up mostly was a curse his mother would have slapped him for daring to say when he was younger. Propping himself up on one elbow again, he blinked at the hide covering the door as it gave a flap then fell back to where it was.
A bony hand then pushed the hide back entirely and the emaciated, robed figure of Resden entered his small hut, dark hair plastered to his skull by the rain and leaning heavily on his staff. He snarled some more in Gutterspeak as he let the hide fall back to where it had been then looked at Taemmur, the dark holes that were his eyes seeming to smile.
"Sorry for barging in, lad," he said in his raspy voice. "Heard about you heading out in a few hours and felt the need to come say goodbye."
"Yeah," said the youth, sitting up to regard the sopping Forsaken mage. "You want something to dry off with?"
Resden waved a rotting hand and shook his head, sinking down into the makeshift chair that stood next to the door.
"No, I'm fine. And I doubt you want pieces of me clinging to your things."
Taemmur nodded then asked, "So…how've you been?" It was his practice to ask this of the mage ever since four years ago when he had lost his mind like nearly every other Forsaken.
"As well as I can be," replied the mage with a smile that was lopsided because of his rotting jaw. "What about you, lad? You're heading straight into enemy territory…and I know how uneasy that can make you feel."
It was a startling thing to realize he'd forgotten there was someone that knew what his situation was like. The mage sitting before him had been downed by the plague that had overtaken Lordaeron and had been one of the Scourge for at least a year. Then he had awoken to find himself in a graveyard to realize he was dead and the only people that would take him were those he'd feared and fought against as a mage of Dalaran. Few others amongst the Horde accepted their Forsaken allies well but Taemmur had been taught by his mother to be friendly to anyone within the Horde.
Also, the Forsaken were technically his people as most were human once. Most were bitter however and Resden was the only one he'd ever met several times that held very little bitterness – unless he counted Saran but the rogue was no longer bitter nor technically Forsaken. The mage could be sarcastic as a being could be but he wasn't bitter about his situation.
"Any suggestions?" he asked, tilting his head slightly at the mage.
Resden frowned and replied, "Well, I don't really know. You're heading into a much different situation that I did… I mean, I couldn't have gone back to Dalaran if I wanted to. Humanity doesn't tend to be fond of things that continue living despite the fact that they're very much dead."
Taemmur thought of his aunt then, who thought the same thing. That way of thinking had caused raucous arguments between her and his mother as well as him many a time.
"But," added the mage, "you at least know you have a place to come back to." He smiled and finished, "You're a member of the Horde, lad. Don't forget that."
"I don't intend to. Leaving isn't something I particularly want to do."
Resden smiled at that, leaning forward to place a bony hand on the youth's shoulder.
"Leaving what we know isn't something any of us want to do, lad. Yet we're either forced to do so or choose to do so. From what I hear this situation is both for you."
"Yeah. I want to serve the Horde but…I really don't want to go amongst humans. 'Cause I know they aren't all like Kalya was." Taemmur ducked his head, shaking it before burying his fingers in his thick, dark hair. "I get yelled at because of what I am on the outside but no one really seems to understand what I am on the inside."
The bony hand squeezed his shoulder and he looked up into the dark spaces that were the mage's eyes. And Taemmur was grateful that he didn't go on about his mention of the human girl who had briefly been in Orgrimmar – even after four years, her loss still hurt all that had known her. Instead rotting skin twisted into a smile and Resden rasped, "I know. Once I went back, tried to see those that I knew one last time – those that survived the Plague. They chased me all the way back to Silverpine with pitchforks and torches, screaming at me all the things they call us."
He shook his head, dark hair flapping wetly against his pallid flesh and continued, "Some beings can only see what is on the outside and not within. Those people could not see that despite my appearance I am still the same within. And those here cannot see that beneath all this…" He paused and lifted his hand from Taemmur's shoulder, waving it about at the youth's face and shoulders. "…that you are as noble as your mother and her kind."
The youth smiled gratefully at that, breathing, "Thanks, Resden. I'm glad there's someone that doesn't hate me."
"Heh, children need kind words sometimes," said the mage airily, waving his hand. He then turned and tweaked back the Thunder Lizard hide, peering out at the downpour outside. "Most particularly on gloomy days like these."
"Doubly gloomy," noted Taemmur.
"Aye."
The two of them sat there for a moment that seemed to stretch for an eternity, just sitting in companionable silence listening to the rain and the sound of Kazhan's breathing. It was a way they'd done things for as long as he'd known the mage, the pair of them just able to sit and enjoy each other's company, usually each settled back with a book on some rooftop in Orgrimmar or in the grass of a path in Thunder Bluff so they could watch traffic when the book needed a break.
"So," said the mage then, summoning a spark of flame and using it to light the single brazier Taemmur was allowed in his hut. "Are your things packed, lad?"
The youth nodded towards the other side of the room, where a heavy pack of Dwarf make lay. Thrall had given him the pack himself, claiming that it would get better use with Taemmur than gathering dust in his room. He had packed his things into it the night before, leaving out only the clothes he would change into and his dagger.
"I see. It's somewhat surprising to me to see a young man prepared the night before an event. I dare say I saw none too few fellow apprentice's in my time lacking such a trait."
"My mother always told me it was best to be prepared," said Taemmur softly. He then looked at the mage and asked, "Resden…do you…will she…" Swallowing hard, he lost his voice then found it again. "Will she be there to see me off? Do you know?"
The Forsaken mage grimaced at the question and shook his head, replying, "I wish I could tell you 'yes,' lad, but I don't know. Last I heard, they were out in Badlands with a warrior by the name of Mogromi."
"I see. Guess that's that then."
Resden frowned and leaned forward, his pallid features twisted into a grimace.
"Lad, I…"
"Go away," hissed the young man, burying his head in his hands again. "Please…please, just go away…"
The mage nodded and rose slowly to his feet, his limbs creaking slightly. He moved to the door and tweaked the Thunder Lizard hide aside, looking back at the youth as he did so.
"We're here for you, lad," he said softly. "All of us. Don't forget that."
Then he was out the door and back into the rain, leaving Taemmur alone in the hut that was about to cease to be his in a matter of hours. The youth sat there for a long moment, head in his hands, then made a low keening noise in the back of his throat.
"What do I do?" he breathed out, asking the question to the sleeping wolf and the empty room.
"What do I do whilst my world falls out from under my feet?"
Hours later, Taemmur walked behind Chanasai out of Orgrimmar, his pack over one shoulder and Kazhan by his side. Muttering voices followed them through the city and he ignored them, keeping his head low and his eyes on the ground. Because of this he nearly ran into the female Orc's back as she came to an abrupt stop.
He lifted his head and found a large group waiting for them in the entranceway to the city. One was Resden, who had dried since he'd last seen the mage and was leaning on his staff smiling at the youth. Two others were Blood Elf's, a male and female similar enough in looks to give him the hint that they were siblings. She had a two-handed sword slung across her back with a cat lounging at her feet whilst the other had a shorter blade at one hip with a wand accompanying a company of pouches on the other. Her glowing green fixed on him for a moment and he thought he saw her lip curl in distaste. Then her brother nudged her with an elbow and smiled at the youth, his eyes simply green with little to no glow. Which was strange…all the Blood Elves had brightly glowing eyes from what he had heard of them, what with their consumption of fel magic.
Was he different? And why did he look vaguely familiar?
Two others joined the group then from the darkness of the entrance then and he recognized the white hair of the Orc, immediately forgetting the riddle of the male elf.
"Kaz!"
"Well, if its not the whelp!" exclaimed the Orc. He grinned at the youth then looked over his shoulder. "Caren, your lad would like to see you, no doubt. S'been a while since we've been city-side after all."
Taemmur blinked then grinned broadly as the tall, noble figure of Carentareta, the only mother he had ever known, stepped up behind the Orc. Her hazel eyes were bright as she looked at him and then took a step forward, reaching out to place her hand on his head. He beamed at her from underneath it and wanted dearly to hug her right in front of everyone watching them. Kazhan growled a greeting to her as well and she smiled at him warmly.
"You've grown," she said softly and the three years of not seeing her no longer seemed to matter.
"I know," he replied. Chanasai coughed then and he frowned at her, causing her to shrug apologetically.
"Sorry, Taem, but we've got to move quick here. We pulled a zeppelin out of work to transport our little group alone and the goblins aren't very happy about it."
Taemmur scowled but nodded and the small group started to move, continuing on their path out of Orgrimmar and towards the zeppelin tower. As they settled onto their hijacked ride, he went below and finally there he flung his arms about his mother. Hers came about him a moment later and he sighed, content for the first time in a long while. He breathed in the scent of her, still all leather and the scent of Mulgore despite her not being in her home for years now, and said, "I missed you so much."
"I've missed you too," she said, pulling away from him. He looked up at her as she pulled back, surprised to find that his head came up to her shoulders now when he'd barely reached her elbows when she'd left him in Orgrimmar.
He'd been told he'd had quite the growth spurt over the year but he hadn't truly realized how much!
Her hands cupped his face and he met her hazel eyes as she studied him. Then she hugged him again before saying, "I want you to know, An'she, that I do not want this to happen."
"I know," breathed Taemmur, his throat tightening at her personal name for him. She had called him 'The Sun' in her native tongue for as long as he could remember and when he had asked why once she replied that it was because he was her sun and lit up everything within her life. "And I know that you can't stop it."
Tears filled his mother's eyes and she shook her head sadly.
"I wish I could."
"We both know I cannot avoid this."
"I know," she said. Then she stomped one of her hooves, a sudden savage look on her noble face that reminded him of her feral side. "It would have been kinder had I not been such a fool and wanted the blessing of the Chieftain. I should have ran with you and hidden – then we would not have to go through this."
Taemmur frowned and grabbed at her hands, his still seeming so small within hers despite his growth spurt. "The past is the past, Mother," he said softly. "We can't change it. And I would rather do this for the Horde than change the past and end up being nothing more than a human following orders."
His mother nodded then looked up as the male elf suddenly came down the stairs into the depths of the zeppelin. Cool green eyes regarded them curiously for a moment then he bowed and said, "Forgive my intrusion, Caren. But it is probably wise to tell him exactly what we are going to be doing."
"We?" repeated the youth. He looked in confusion at his mother then back at the elf. "What's this about?"
She sighed and replied, "An'she, this is Hresden Sylindaal, an old friend. He will be accompanying you as he is the only one who can."
Now Taemmur was really confused.
"What? But…he's a Blood Elf…"
"A High Elf," corrected Hresden with a smile. "My sister has fallen prey to the magic lust where I have not."
"Then what are you doing here?"
"My sister is my life, Taemmur. More of a mother to me than anything as she raised me – and I follow her where she goes." His eyebrows twitched and the elf added, "Though now it seems I'll be following you. Which won't be that much of a change really from the last time I accompanied someone."
Taemmur frowned and asked, "Won't people recognize you?"
"No more than they will recognize you. I've lived in seclusion in Theramore for most of my years, bogged down by my studies. Few of those that would know me from there ever stir from their holes and the news of my leaving with my sister isn't something that would be spread around." He laughed merrily and finished, "A High Elf willingly going to the Horde without having succumbed to our addiction is an embarrassment to them. One who talks about it freely is also somewhat of an embarrassment but I can not be bothered to care."
The youth just stared at the elf for a moment and looked at his mother, who shrugged and smiled at him. Then he reached out a hand and said, "Well then…I guess we're partners."
"So we are," said Hresden, sliding his hand past the youth's to grip his wrist – a warrior's clasp that was out of place being received from a mage. At Taemmur's confusion, he chuckled and explained, "I do have some skill with more than just magic. If we need a sword, I can happily supply it."
"And many other skills," said Caren with a smile. She then shifted and added, "We should all probably catch what sleep we can. From what I can tell, Chana is planning to set a hard pace once we arrive."
"I was about to suggest the same," said the mage. He then bowed and added, "I take my leave then and will try to keep others from coming down here to bother you. Family is important, after all."
With that he left and Taemmur stared after him before saying, "He is strange."
Caren chuckled and clasped her human son's shoulder warmly.
"Strange he may be but he's a good companion and friend. He will be excellent company for you, I think."
"Yeah," said the youth softly. He then sighed and leaned wearily against his mother, muttering, "This is unfair."
"I know," she said softly, wrapping her arms around him.
Taemmur sighed heavily and closed his eyes, simply breathing in his mother's familiar scent and relishing in being in her presence again. Because he had the feeling that he wasn't going to be seeing her for a long time after he was escorted to Southshore.
And if he did…it would be at the end of a sword.
An'she: The Sun (Taur-ahe)
