(( OOF it's been a lil' wihle! WoW devs are currently making me RAGE but I'll just have to suffice with my Fanfics until they can get themselves together somewhat. At least I know I have good ideas. And other writers, because HOT DAMN. Also yes. Yes I DID steal ch 6/7's titles from what demon hunters say in game! ))
Chapter 7: What have you given?
Vol'jin lay on his back, staring at the sky.
Judging from the position of the sun, it was around five in the afternoon - and it also meant that U'thel had been meditating for at least two hours now.
The shadow hunter heaved a deep breath, rolling onto his side. The splotches of dark in his vision irritated him to no end. It would have been more tolerable if he was fully blind in his right eye, not half-blind with blurry images. In a fight, the slightest movement from foliage would likely make him jump.
Maybe he could gouge the thing out. It was useless to him as it was anyway.
Vol'jin shook his head before rising to his feet. He would have to wait and see what U'thel's consensus was on that - and as much as all this was cutting down his pride as a shadow hunter, Vol'jin couldn't ignore his position.
U'thel was the experienced one here, and for that matter, had regenerated Vol'jin from nothing but a broken tusk.
Speaking of...
The red haired troll traced a finger along his right tusk - it came short, the end of it flat with ragged edges. He felt his nose twitch in anger. Seconds later, a growl left him, and he clenched his hand over the damaged tusk.
As if having to start from scratch as a student wasn't a blow enough, having uneven tusks was just as harsh a blow. It left Vol'jin feeling imbalanced, given that his tusks had been so large, and, as a result, quite weighted.
He cursed under his breath, raking a hand through his hair. He wanted to leave the grove, but with his body in its current state, and U'thel meditating, he knew it would be unwise to do so. Vol'jin couldn't let his frustrations get the better of him.
Vol'jin opted to wander around the grove instead. U'thel was clearly a self-sufficient fellow, having covered most of his things with oiled furs to keep the rain away. The tent itself looked to be made of heavy leather - given that the other troll was a demon hunter, Vol'jin had a hunch the leather was taken from demons U'thel had slain.
The shadow hunter continued to poke around, hesitantly lifting part of a cloth off of what appeared to be a table. There was a variety of self-hygiene products underneath, and Vol'jin released a low whistle, then lowered the cloth back over the table before his curiosity got the better of him. Judging by the shape the cloth took over the upper left, there were books on this slab of wood. Vol'jin moved on.
His feet took him to the skin that was being stretched between the trees. It would still be a few more days until it was ready to be worked, and Vol'jin rubbed some of it between the pads of his fingers. He shook his head, finding himself impressed by U'thel's technique. He must have spent the better part of his years in solitude perfecting more than just his demon hunter prowess.
Again, Vol'jin moved, this time running his fingers along the trunks of the trees. They were a deep green, almost, as if covered in a fine moss. The leaves were sickly in hue, but it was clear that the color was deceiving - each tree was healthy, and stood strong, their branches only bothered every now and then by a breeze.
He looked over his shoulder at the entrance to the grove. The bones of a sea lion hung from the trees - obviously, they were from the sea lion U'thel had killed while Vol'jin was out. He would have moved closer to inspect them, but the opening to the grove was too tempting.
Vol'jin wandered back around the tent instead, watching U'thel for a moment in mild interest.
The demon hunter's shoulders barely moved with each breath he took, and again, Vol'jin found himself impressed by just how well U'thel had trained himself.
A glint caught the shadow hunter's eye, and he turned his head-
There was a mirror.
He stared at it. It was beckoning to him, yet, at the same time, made him want to run with his tail between his legs, so to speak. Did he even want to see how he looked? To see how he had changed?
Vol'jin passed his fingers over his right eye absentmindedly - then his fingers pressed against the spot where he had received his injury.
His feet took him to the mirror despite his inner protests.
Loa.
Vol'jin raised a shaky hand to his eye. The skin around it looked cracked, as if someone had taken a blunt tool and dug scores into his face. Sickly bright green wisps danced about his finger when he pressed a pad to the skin. The entire thing was pooled with green, like his other eye - except his left eye still had the iris separate from the sclera, sharing only the green coloring.
His tusk looked even worse than it felt; he could more easily see the splints in it now.
And the point of entry for the fel poisoning…
Black lines snaked from the pulsating spot - that same sickening color as his eyes - and like gnarled branches the lines coiled up to his chest, up his arm, and down his shoulder. He wanted to see if his back looked the same, but simultaneously, he wanted to slam his fist into the mirror.
Why, why did this new body have to have these injuries?
Vol'jin realized, with a wheezed breath, that like the mark on his jugular, these injuries were considered scars.
What scars to have.
Any warrior would be proud of them, but to Vol'jin they were forever going to be a sick reminder of the fact that he had been tainted by the Fel, and there was no undoing that. No amount of voodoo, no amount of holy magic, shadow, arcane, fire, ice; no amount of begging or pleading with higher powers would return Vol'jin to an untainted state.
Loa it made him furious.
He clenched a hand into a fist - then closed his eyes tightly. The mirror already had angry cracks in it.
Vol'jin's molten gaze drifted to U'thel. There was no doubt in his mind that U'thel had already broken the mirror once, when the reminders of what he had become were too strong.
The shadow hunter's eyes shifted to the entrance of the grove.
Surely, it wouldn't be that difficult to just walk away.
But if that was true, why did the very thought of leaving make Vol'jin's heart pound loudly in his ears?
He walked toward the split in the trees regardless, and a twitch in his right eye began. Still, he walked.
"And if you leave, what then?"
Vol'jin jerked to a stop at U'thel's voice, oddly calm, speaking in Zandali.
"Where will you go?"
"Home," Vol'jin managed, his throat dry, hands clenched tightly into fists.
"And you think they'll accept you back at home, with what you've become?"
The shadow hunter couldn't respond, even though he desperately wanted to.
"You're tainted with Fel. They will shun you. Who you were won't matter, because what you are is too obvious. The most famous phrase the Illidari claim is that they have sacrificed everything."
Vol'jin could feel U'thel's presence, and he turned sharply, only to see the demon hunter was still in his meditative stance, eyes closed, fifteen feet away.
"I won't ask you what the fuck that's supposed to mean, because you didn't lurk around them like I did," U'thel continued, opening his violent eyes before turning his head to look at his charge, "but they mean it, in a way. They sacrificed their homeland, their families, their lovers, some still sacrificed their names. The majority of them sacrificed their sight. Some sacrificed their positions. Sure, most of them are blood elves and night elves, and those races are fuckin' pomps at best. They look down on demon hunters, and spit in the face of their sacrifice."
It was unnerving how U'thel was keeping his voice so calm, and Vol'jin took a heavy breath, clenching his teeth. The demon hunter got to his feet, approaching Vol'jin. He came to a stop in front of him, regarding him with such intensity in his eyes that Vol'jin had to avert his gaze.
"What have you given?"
Vol'jin's throat closed up. The question made him ache - it really did. U'thel's gaze never wavered, and as the minutes dragged on it became increasingly clear that the demon hunter expected an answer.
"My life," Vol'jin finally said, his voice quiet.
"And?"
"My position."
U'thel's gaze intensified - but, to Vol'jin's relief, he didn't ask about what position it was; instead, he simply repeated his previous phrase:
"And?"
"My home, some of the sight in this eye," he jabbed a finger toward his blotchy right eye, "my name, my relationships… my brothers."
U'thel hummed, "it's interesting to me what you value the most."
Vol'jin raised his gaze, eyes pinched inward. U'thel smirked at him.
"You stated your life first. It was the easiest one for you to choose, so you value yourself the least," U'thel crossed his arms, "and you value your relationships the most, particularly these brothers of yours."
The smirk faded to a straight line, "so, knowing what you've sacrificed, what does that make you?"
The shadow hunter set his jaw in defiance. U'thel saw it, and he pushed himself up onto the balls of his feet so that his face was close enough to prevent Vol'jin from turning his head away.
"What does that make you, Vol'ji?"
Vol'jin growled, and U'thel growled right back, baring his teeth. The red war paint on his face pulsed, as the tattoos along the left side of his body did.
"... a demon hunter," Vol'jin finally relented, and U'thel settled back on his feet allowing Vol'jin to break eye contact.
"Glad ta hear it," U'thel said, dropping back into orcish, scathing tone returning, "git ya ass ovah here, I bettah show ya how ta meditate b'fah ya do sometin' stupid, like, I dunno! Walk outta' de fuckin' grove when ya ain' even familiah wit dat body o' ya's yet!"
Despite flinching, Vol'jin couldn't help but chuckle, "I won' be makin' ya any promises I won' be tryna' leave at some point."
U'thel rolled his eyes, then grabbed Vol'jin by the wrist and pulled him in the direction of his candle covered rock, "don' expect it - bu' ya not stupid, Vol'ji, I c'n tell by lookin' at ya."
He poked Vol'jin in the forehead, making the latter wince, "dere be a smart brain in dat thick skull," U'thel then jabbed his finger in the direction of the mirror, "remembah, dat ting don' show you wat be hidden. I'm not sayin' dat ya de same Vol ya always been, cuz bein' a demon huntah changes ya - bu' de Vol ya always been, he in dere somewhere. Ya jus' c'n't see 'im."
Vol'jin had not expected these words to come from U'thel, but he knew the young demon hunter was right; the mirror would only show him how he was outwardly affected.
And only time would tell, how he was affected inwardly - hell, even U'thel had shown that there was more to him than the anger he projected.
"Now si'down, de soonah ya git ta speak wit de Loa, da bettah."
