Chapter 6
Nightfall
"I didn't know then what I wanted, but the ache for it was palpable."
― Sue Monk Kidd
The showdown at the house had been anticlimactic. Everyone seemed to be engaged in their meals in the dining room, so no one was there to object or at least cast dirty glances at them as Leighton ladled some stew from a large pot into a deep bowl for him. Although Leighton was beckoning him towards the dining room, even going as far as opening the door, Rin raised his hand in a dismissive gesture.
"I'll be takin dis back to da barn," he explained as the raucousness in the room died down at the sight of him standing in the kitchen, clutching a bowl.
"You are welcome to come join us. You are our guest," Leighton repeated meaningfully, more to his wife than to him.
"Much appreciated. Dis is plenty. I have to get back to my notes so I make da most of tomorrow," he apologized. The room had grown so quiet again he could hear a clock ticking in the background. "Good night."
He heard some low mumbles to his greeting and he began to walk out of the kitchen as Leighton disappeared into the house. Just as he stepped outside, the door creaked open behind him.
"I'm coming with you." Sahar stood beside him suddenly, her pack slung over her shoulder.
He looked at her askance, a bit miffed for reasons he didn't quite comprehend.
"Oh, so now dat it's time to do da dishes, we be buddies again?"
"What are you talking about?"
What was he talking about? She was a draenei- a member of the Alliance among other members of her faction. Why should he punish her for the behavior of others? And why should he expect her to fix all the wrongs of the world?
"Are you mad?" she asked, tilting her head and trying to catch his eyes while they walked to the barn.
"No," he lied. "Just tired."
Still, he couldn't resist needling her just a little bit…
"Why don't ya be goin' back to da house? I am sure they be havin' a nice comfortable bed for ya…and it's less likely someone will be aiming to burn da house instead of da barn."
Sahar snorted.
"You ARE mad! I'll have you know that while I was there, I stood up for you!"
"Did ya, now?" he teased, entering the barn and waiting for her to follow so he could lock the heavy door for the night.
"Yes. I even put in a good word for you."
"Ah, a good word? So ya be tellin' them how handsome old' Rin be?" he joked.
"You're not old," she retorted, oddly flustered. She was blinking nervously, her tail beginning to twitch. "Anyway, no. I didn't say any such nonsense. That would be blatant lying," she shot back coyly. He chuckled at that and she grinned as well.
She be pretty, he mused, struck by her lovely smile. For a draenei, that is, he quickly amended.
"I appreciate it, but again, don't bother on my behalf. I just want to be gettin' dis mission done. I don't really care about whether or not Mrs. Leighton will be knittin' me a Winter Veil scarf this year." He lit the lamp dangling from the hook by the door. "All kiddin' aside, Sahar. Ya don't have to stay here. Go get a good night's rest."
"They have enough room," Sahar revealed. "They could easily accommodate both of us."
"I don't really care. I'm more at ease here. Ya go: I honestly don't mind."
"I can't," she explained. "I won't stay there unless you do. I told them as much."
He shrugged.
"All ya doin' is savin' them da trouble of makin' up da guest room."
"I didn't do it just to prove something to them."
"Good for ya." He yawned.
"I did it because…We're partners, right?" she explained. "We're in this together. And…And we have each other's back."
She was disarmingly sweet, he thought, even as he gave her a curt nod in acknowledgment. He wondered how long it would be before she became jaded like everyone else who they made their way up the ranks. He sat down on a bale of hay and tried some of the stew. To his great annoyance, the rim of the bowl kept striking his tusks. He cursed lightly while Sahar fussed with her pack. He picked out some stringy chicken meat with his fingertips. Needs more spice, he thought.
"Where are we sleeping?" she wondered, looking around. He pointed at the ladder.
"Up there. Set ya pack down, if ya like. I'll be up soon."
She was staring at the ladder and he focused on his meal, trying to savor some of the broth by dunking the hearty dark bread Leighton had given him into the bowl. After a few bites, Rin looked up and saw that Sahar hadn't moved from her spot before the ladder.
"It's not an escalator," he provoked.
She turned her head, peering at him crossly.
"I KNOW that. That's not the problem." She looked down. "The rungs…It's hard to climb up these ladders with hooves."
"Ah." He tipped his canteen, washing broth and fat off his fingertips. "Come on, I'll be goin' up, too. I'll help ya." Adjusting his pack, he deftly climbed up and then positioned himself at the edge of the loft, holding the ladder firmly and urging her up.
"Ya can take my hand and I'll haul ya over."
She began tentatively, positioning her large, heavy hoof on the cylindrical rung. It scuffed the wood, sliding off.
"Come on, pull yasself up," he encouraged her. She scrambled a bit, gripping the upper rungs tightly with her hands and pulling up. When she was close enough, he grasped one of her arms. Just in time, too, for she slid off the ladder again, and ended up hanging vertically against it.
"Pheta vi acahachi…" she grumbled, gripping his forearm tightly while trying frantically to secure her footing.
"Here," he offered her his other hand. Her hoof slipped again and he was yanked forward, almost toppling over the edge of the loft. Grimacing from the effort, Rin began to pull her up. "It's really a shame you aren't a gnome," he grunted, tugging harder, until her upper body was finally over the ledge and only her legs dangled below the drop. She hoisted herself up after an awkward moment.
"Ya all right?" he asked casually.
She watched silently as Rin brought up the ladder for the night.
"I am thinking maybe I should go back to the house and take that room, after all…"
Rin startled.
"But I just brought up da ladder…"
The sly grin on her lips gave her away.
"Ah, Sahar! Ya always be messin' with me," he huffed, dropping down on the bedroll he'd left there earlier. She laughed—a warm, spontaneous sound.
"Just help me down tomorrow morning, all right?"
"Sure. I can give ya a good push," he teased.
They had both settled into their sleeping bags. He yawned loudly, tugging up his blanket to shield himself from the crisp nighttime air.
"I need to say somethin'" Rin began. He heard Sahar shift again on her bedroll to face him. "What ya did to come here on dis mission…It be wrong." She held silent. "But I appreciate that ya be willing to carry ya weight."
"All right," she said quietly.
"And thanks."
"For what?"
"For what ya said back there—about bein' partners." He turned to face the window, looking out at the stars spread out over the ensorcelled green sky. "Ya might not be a proper shaman just yet, but ya be a decent person, Sahar," he said in a gentler voice.
"Thank you for letting me come along—for giving me a chance to prove myself. I will not let you down," she assured him.
"Rin'Seyi?" she called out softly, after some silence.
"Mm?" he turned his head towards her.
"You mentioned Shadowmoon Valley earlier…Have you been there?"
He let out a low grunt.
"Was dere just last year. Some mage idiot claimed that the Dead Scar in Eversong Woods did not properly close or heal because it shared properties with da soil in Shadowmoon."
She propped up her pillow, interested.
"Well, both are corrupted by Fel energy."
"It be more than that! Shadowmoon, yes, be concentrated Fel energy—that, and da fact da temperature be inhospitable."
"The Dead Scar by Silvermoon is plagued with all kinds of monsters, isn't it?" she wondered.
"Yes, but undead! There be some concentration of Fel magic, but the true reason the Scar does not heal is because the land is dead."
"Have you been to Silvermoon?" she asked, completely ignoring the story he was more interested in telling. He'd confronted the arrogant mage during a report to the Kirin Tor in Dalaran. They'd almost comes to blows. He'd felt quite heroic and vindicated after their showdown.
"Yes. I studied da Dark Scar. Spent time in da area. It's kind of why da damn elves always volunteer me when there be suspicion of da demonic afoot."
Now it was Sahar's turn to yawn.
"So, what is Silvermoon like?" she wondered. "I've heard that its towers are resplendent—that the city is beautiful…Sumptuous…"
He smirked. It was a stunning city. Its ornate facades, gauzy curtains billowing in the breeze, lush, welcoming courtyards laid out with low-sitting tables and pillows barely concealed the fact it was all propelled by an over-reliance on magic and the constant mining of the arcane for power. "It be a sight to behold. I will say that much."
"It is a shame our people aren't on better terms. M'uru healed their Sunwell…" she noted sleepily.
"And ya'd think they'd never ally with trolls: da Amani be always attacking their outposts."
"Are the Amani any relatives of yours?" she provoked.
He grimaced and turned his back to her, under her light chuckling.
"I hope someday to see it with my eyes. Everything…it sounds marvelous," she sighed. "Who knows? Maybe someday our leaders will guide us in putting our differences aside and uniting us."
"Ya had too much wine," he grumbled, facing the window, staring out.
"And yet…There are those who see the good in working together: the Circle of Cenarion, the Argent Crusade…"
"Da Earthen Ring," he added.
"The Earthen Ring is still very Horde-dominated."
He furrowed his brow.
"Well, da tauren, da trolls, and especially da orcs have a longer tradition of shamanism. Ya people come to it through them."
She said nothing for a moment.
"Yet, our shamanistic practice is different. My teachers believe that communing with the elements is communing with the Light."
Rin shrugged.
"Whatever helps ya get there," he muttered.
"It is and it isn't." Suddenly, the sleepiness was gone from her voice. "My teachers would have me believe that the elements are subservient to the Light. But it's not…that simple. They think the elements bend to the Light, that they are moral entities. That there is some kind of hierarchy."
Oo, what have I done? I deserve this. I really need to learn how to shut-up.
"The elements are amoral! They're beyond good and bad. They are forces of creation and destruction and their only constant is change. To expect them to only act in service of the greater good is to impose a system of values and—"
"Sahar," Rin pleaded. "It be late."
"All I am saying is that it is unfair to impose such a narrow interpretation. Some of us understand what happened to Farseer Nobundo in a different way," she continued, agitated.
Rin took a deep breath, his eyes focused on a pretty ripple of deep green unfurling across the sky. All that was not his problem. She would have to sort it out, figure out how to work with her teachers.
"Just because I don't evoke the Light when I summon the elements doesn't mean I've turned my back on it! I have heard Farseer Nobundo speak—and everyone keeps trying to reinterpret his words, give it this other context. My teachers are stubborn. They just won't admit it."
Rin scratched his head.
"Admit what?"
"That some of us might require different training." She was definitely upset. "That some of us shouldn't be held back for doing things differently."
Rin said nothing. The ripple in the sky curled inwardly, its filaments of light reminding him of the ridged curve of a dragon's back.
"I've been training for a long time. But I am not allowed to progress because I don't do things the way I should. I am getting tired of being told to conform, to uphold a way that doesn't flow or come to me naturally. My teachers are kind, but I regret to say that partisanship, these ridiculous politics of faction, have infiltrated the draenei shamanistic schools."
It was inevitable. Everything ended up being tainted by it. Those looking for reasons to fight, to destroy, to jockey for power would always dredge up ample reasons to hate.
"And what do ya tink ya can do about it, Sahar?" he asked, his deep voice piercing the silence that had fallen over the barn.
She shifted restlessly.
"I don't know. Stay an apprentice forever," she huffed.
He cracked a grin.
"I'll put in a good word for ya to join da Horde," he joked.
She snorted.
"Only if I can train with Thrall," she declared. She sat up. "Have you ever met him?" she asked, suddenly excited.
He rubbed his face tiredly.
"A few times— though only briefly."
She actually squealed and suddenly the memory of her brushing her hands over the earth came back to him. It was an ancient, powerful gesture. One he had seen shamans do before entering a valley or a plain.
"Greeting the earth," he'd been told by a tauren shaman, during his travels. "We show her respect and in turn she guides our way."
Maybe her draenei teachers believed they needed to harness the elements? He knew that among his people the idea was that one surrendered to them. One did not command: one listened.
"What is Thrall like?" She sat up on her bedroll.
"Big and green. Now, for fuck's sake, go to sleep!" He even crossed his arms beneath the covers.
"But—"
"I will tell ya tomorrow."
"All right," she finally mumbled, deflatedly.
He felt a stab of guilt.
Rin stirred from his sleep when he felt yet again a warm body huddled up against his back, an arm draped across his waist, and a soft cheek resting against his neck. He blinked sleepily in the darkness. The temperature had dropped and his breath materialized in the air as smoke.
"Sahar." He pat her arm gently. "Ya be gettin' confused again—I'm not Drannord."
"No…Not him…" she finally agreed, not budging from her spot.
"Sahar—wake up," he cautioned her, gingerly removing her arm from around his waist. "Ya need to stay in ya bedroll."
She did slide her arm off, but remained nestled against him, turning her face so that her lips grazed the nape of his neck. She sighed, and the feathery-light tickle of warm breath against his skin was exciting him too much; he was hard and straining against the front of his breeches.
"Come on! Wake up!" He was trying valiantly not to let the moment become even more charged while simultaneously wondering what would happen if he were to turn around, draw her up against him…
She rolled away at last with a sleepy grunt and turned her back to him.
"Sorry," she offered hazily.
He remained awake, listening to her breathing as she slipped back into a deep sleep. He winced lightly at last, burrowing deeper into his pillow, trying to dismiss the unpleasant ache between his legs and the peculiar yearning that lingered after she slipped away.