Hey there! So I feel like setting fire to the rumor mill tonight! So here's a special little friendship based oneshot! I hope you all enjoy!
There For You
Deep in the foreboding darkness of the Ghostlands, in the midst the eerie glow of the trees and the occasional pained moan from one of the many undead who roamed through the forests, a small caravan traveled, flanked on every side by elven rangers.
Leading the small band of rangers was a female elf, garbed not in the armor of a ranger, but in the traditional robes of a Silvermoon priestess. She rode her hawkstrider with clear poise and grace. There was no doubt that whomever she was, this woman was of important status.
An uneasy peace hung in the air surrounding the caravan. The rangers who surrounded the caravan were constantly glancing about at their surroundings, most of them with an arrow nocked on their bowstring, ready to fire at a moments notice.
Suddenly, the relative peace that the caravan had been graced with was suddenly shattered. Before even a single elf could raise their bow in their own defense, surges of yelling green and blue forms burst out of the trees, surrounding the caravan in a matter of moments.
"Trolls! Open fi-..." The ranger was silenced as a primitive stone throwing axe found itself buried between his shoulder blades, throwing him to the ground, dead before he even hit the dirt.
Chaos soon dominated the small band of elves which surrounded the caravan. While a few arrows found their mark in the skin of the troll warriors, most bounced harmlessly off either their wooden shields or seemingly did no real damage to the hide armor they wore, despite the primitive nature of the material.
The priestess turned every which way on top of her mount, chanting a string of words while firing off spell after spell in an attempt to keep her comrades alive. Despite her help however, the rangers were soon overwhelmed by the sea of trolls.
As the priestess watched as the last of her comrades were cut down, a roar suddenly ripped through the sea of green and blue. Her eyes soon settled on a blue with massive axe that was currently cleaving a ranger in half, ripping through the armor of the archer as if it were only cloth.
The troll's eyes were set upon the priestess before the two halves of the slain ranger had even settled on the ground.
Without so much as a warning, the priestess suddenly found herself thrown off of her mount and onto her back. Before she could recover from the the shock of the impact against the ground the priestess felt a searing pain that radiated up her arm.
When she reached to clench at the limb she found only a fleshy stump, blood pouring from the amputated wound like a crimson waterfall.
The priestess soon felt the same intense pain run down her legs. When, with titanic effort, the priestess lifted her head to look down at the lower half of her body, she was horrified to see her legs being punted away from the rest of her body by one of the dozens of trolls that now surrounded her.
She struggled for each and every breath. Her vision was flooded in red. She could barely summon the strength to keep her eyes open to watch as the silhouetted form of the troll warrior stood above her.
"...I'm... So sorry... Varimas..."
The troll's axe fell upon her neck.
It was a sunny day in the majestic streets of Silvermoon city. Every street corner was bustling with vendors selling their wares to the throngs of adventurers that wandered through the winding streets. In one of those many wandering streets a priest stood before the front of entrance of a rather opulent residence.
Nervously he stood there with his hands clenched at his sides, staring at the masked figure of another elf, who stood as a mirror to the priest. He had even dreading this moment the entire day.
"Lord Varimas Sunsorrow. Greetings." The priest greeted with a small bow, though Varimas seemed to not be as eager to show such respect back, if his crossed arms were any real indication.
"Look, I don't care how many times you come around, my answer is still the same." Varimas muttered in an exasperated manner, each and every word dripping with sarcasm. "I'm not 'donating' any money. I'm done coddling both my mother and the priesthood so-..."
"No... No Varimas... That's not why I'm here." The priest interrupted, holding his hands up in front of his chest.
Varimas leaned against the frame of the doorway casually, his arms still crossed lazily across his purple and grey robe. "Oh? Then are you just knocking on random doors for the fun of it or-..."
"Varimas... Your mother..." The priest trailed off. Varimas felt a jab in his stomach. "Priestess Sunsorrow and the caravan that she and several rangers were escorting was found destroyed by what we can only presume was some form of Amani ambush... There were no survivors..."
It took a few seconds for the Warlock to recompose himself. "...Carhun if this is your idea of a joke it's not funny."
"I truly wish that it was..." The priest, evidently named Carhun muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, his ginger hair falling over his fel-green eyes. Discussing Varimas' parents with said blood elf was never an easy task. "She was one of the best our order has seen in years..."
Varimas gave no response to the priest's praise, merely staring as the man became increasingly uncomfortable under the gaze of the warlock.
"...The funeral is set for this weekend..." The priest said before giving another soft bow. "I will take my leave... I hope to see you there 'Lord' Sunsorrow... For your mothers sake..."
Varimas nodded only once, backing back into his house, before shutting the door muttering three final words to the elven priest. "...Good day Carhun..."
Varimas let out a sigh once the door was shut, leaning against the wooden frame for a few moments before turning around to walk back to where he had left his friends, only to come face to face with Wrath, who had no doubt followed him. "Hey Var, who was-..."
Wrath trailed off when he took notice of Varimas' slumped shoulders. It was unlike the Warlock. He always made some sort of effort to keep himself at least partially presentable, even in the worst of circumstances.
"Varimas?... What's going on?" Wrath began, the caution clear in voice as he drew closer to his friend.
"Apparently-..." Varimas froze for a moment, a shiver running down his spine as he repeated the words he had been told only moments before, not having entirely absorbed the information quite yet. "Apparently my mother died in an Amani ambush a few days ago..."
"...You going to be alright?" The Death Knight asked, laying his hand on Varimas' shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"I... Y-... Yeah..." Varimas stuttered shrugging Wrath's hand off of his shoulder roughly, causing the black haired elf to back away for a moment befre decomposing himself, attempting to reach for his friend once more.
"Look, if you need to talk about-..." His hand was batted away by Varimas once more. This time he made no move to replace his hand on the shoulder of his friend, instead opting to mirror his crossed arms.
"There's nothing to talk about." He replied, the venom in his words clear. When Wrath said nothing in response Varimas began to head towards his sleeping quarters, only to stop when Wrath finally did speak up.
"Vari-..."
"I said there's nothing to talk about!" Varimas yelled with clenched fists, thick tendrils of fel-fire flaring up around him, nearly catching the surrounding tapestries on fire.
Wrath held his hands up defensively, backing away from the agitated Warlock, not wanting to risk flame based facial reconstruction surgery. "Alright. I'll leave you be. I'm backing up."
With that Varimas turned down the hall, disappearing into his sleeping quarters only a few moments later.
After nearly a full minute after Varimas had disappeared Blake and Yang, both of whom had been hiding behind one of the many doorways that connected the main entrance to the rest of the house, emerged from their hiding place with worried looks on their faces.
"What's going on Wrath?" Blake asked, walking right over to the Death Knight without even a hint of hesitation, laying her hand against the dark purple armor that covered his arm, the metal cool to the touch despite the relatively warm weather of Eversong.
"...Apparently Varimas' mother was just recently killed..." Wrath explained with a soft sigh, laying his own hand on top of Blake's, staring at the now closed door that led to Varimas' quarters. "It would be best to leave him be with his thoughts for a time... We needs to come to terms with this in his way."
"Wait... So you're just going to leave him alone?!" Yang asked throwing one of her arms up in the air as she leaned on a table with the other, completely baffled by what she was hearing.
"As I'm sure you saw, Varimas made it perfectly clear that he wants his space. I'm merely respecting his wishes." Wrath replied calmly, though his face was etched in clear worry for the emotional state of his friend.
"Yeah well he's your friend isn't he?" Yang asked, propping one hand on her hip while the other pointed at Wrath accusingly. "Sometimes ya gotta step on 'wishes' if it mean helping them!"
Wrath remained as silent as his friend had been, slumping his shoulders. He knew that Yang was right in a way, yet he made no move towards the door even when Yang began to growl softly at him.
"Fine. If you won't go talk to him-..." Yang began as she strolled in the direction of Varimas' sleeping quarters. "...-Then I will."
"That's not a good idea Yang." Blake spoke up, stepping in front of the brawler before she could advance any further down the long corridor, a sympathetic expression on her features. "Your only just walking... If he hurts you-..."
"I'm going in there. End of story."
With that Yang brushed by Blake and headed towards Varimas' room once more, leaving Wrath and Blake in the entrance room, glancing at each other in worry.
"Hey, Varimas? Are you in-... Woah..." Yang trailed off as she took in the view before her. Varimas' room was completely destroyed. Scorch marks littered the walls, furniture lay in splintered pieces on the ground. Even the carpet bore slash marks from some sort of bladed weapon. "Dang... Spring cleaning much?"
No response came to deflect her quip. Nothing more than the shuffling of cloth from the other side of the room. This worried Yang leagues more than any sort of insult or snarky response.
Yang frowned, glancing around at the destroyed room, scanning for any trace of her friend. Not an easy task considering how all of the curtains were pulled shut, exiling the sunlight, leaving Yang only with the dim light of the candles which lined the room to help her search. "Varimas?... You in here buddy?"
A moment later she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye. Near the bed, something was moving around. Turning to face it she put on the best fake smile she possibly could before walking over to the bed.
"Varim-..." That smile vanished in an instant. Varimas was indeed standing there, however when he turned around to face Yang, the blonde girl gasped in surprise, her hands partially covering her mouth. "Wh-what the hell?!"
Varimas was holding his mask in his hand.
"Yeah... Get a good look..." Varimas growled, his teeth bared, glaring daggers at Yang, who unconsciously backed away from the elf, who the brawler could now see was just as blonde as she was. "Get a damn good look..."
"What happened to you?..." Yang asked after regaining her composure, shuffling towards the elf with her hand stretched out towards his face, which was partially covered by the shadow of the candlelight which kept the room lit.
"Does it matter?" Varimas asked, dodging Yang's hand before sitting on his ruined bed, glaring daggers at the felfume mask which lay ominously in his hands, as if silently beckoning him to don it.
"Yeah! A little!" Yang cried, ripping Varimas from his self induced trance, forcing the elf to glance over at Yang for but a mount before his gaze returned to the mask held in his hands.
Varimas pressed his mask against his face, locking the metal plate in place before tilting his head out of the shadows his gaze directed upon Yang once more. "...Why are you here?"
"I came to talk to you..." Yang began, placing her hands on her hips as a look of concern crossed her face as she returned the gaze she was receiving from Varimas. "I, Uh... I heard what happened..."
"You mean my mother?" Varimas simply asked, not wishing to mince words. He knew Yang was not one for such things either. He could be honest with her, he could speak to her on any subject and he knew she would be honest with him in return.
Yang gave a small nod at this, leaning against the wall with her arms still placed firmly against her hips. "So I mean... Do you want to talk?"
"No. I'm fine." Or maybe anything was too generous of a word.
"Well what's left of your room begs to differ." Yang replied, her eyes once again scanning the destroyed bedroom as well as they possibly could in the dim candlelight.
"Yang. She and my father abandoned me. Disowned me." Varimas spat, clenching his fists in his lap in an attempt to convey himself calmly. "Believe me, I'm content with her passing. More than content."
"No you aren't." Despite disagreeing with the Warlock, Yang could not resist the smile that crept onto her face. At least she was beginning to get through to the stubborn elf.
"And what gives you the right to make such a judgment?..." Varimas snapped his gaze in Yang's direction, though the brawler did not so much as flinch at the sudden movement.
"I know what I'm talking about, that's what 'gives me a right'..." Yang replied, doing her best to suppress the sarcasm that dripped off the last few words that flood past her lips, though she was ultimately unsuccessful.
"You don't know what its like to have parents who abandoned you." Th warlock muttered, suddenly becoming very interested in his hands, which lay unmoving on his lap.
"My mother..." Yang began with a sigh, sitting on the bed next to Varimas, who seemed to show no visible reaction to the sudden close proximity of his friend. "Her name's Raven... She left when I was only a kid... She only reappeared during a festival we had a year ago..."
"Raven huh?... What makes you think I give-..." Varimas trailed off when he finally did look up, suddenly finding himself without the mental drive to complete his verbal jab. "...What's your point?..."
"My point is, is that I know what it's like..." Yang said, leaning back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Even it had a few scorch marks littering it's surface. That was not her chief concern at the moment though. "I know how it feels to have a mother who wasn't always there for you..."
"She was Never there for me! No one expect Wrath ever was." Varimas replied. "At least you have your father..."
Yang pulled herself back up to a sitting position. "Well yeah but-..."
"Wrath! That's it! No one else has ever been there for me! No one!" Varimas interrupted, small sparks of Fel-fire beginning to dance across the surface of his gloved hands.
"That's not true..." Yang whispered, watching the green sparks that flew from Varimas' hands with wary eyes. She knew first hand just how painful that fire could be if it ended up making contact ones skin. That was an experience she would rather not go through again if she could help it.
"What're you talking about?" Varimas pressed, the sparks growing into small flames that traveled to the tips of his fingers, resembling demonic candles. It would have been an almost humorous sight in any other situation.
"I'm here for you..." Those four words seemed to make the entire room freeze. All at once the fires that had been building in Varimas' hands were snuffed out as if not a spark had ever flown. The crackling of demonic fire replaced by only the breathing of both warlock and brawler.
"...What?"
"A-and I'm sure Blake is too!" Yang suddenly cried about with a nervous smile, shaking her hands in front of her face when she finally realized just what she had said. "You're our friend after all!"
"Right..." Varimas chuckled, watching as Yang bolted off of the bed, standing at attention, her arms pinned to her sides. It was hard to imagine that only a few weeks prior there was a possibility she would never walk again. "I... Think I'm alright now..."
Yang seemed to visibly relax rather quickly at those words, giving the warlock a small yet warm smile. "Good."
"I'll be out in a few minutes..." Varimas said, before taking a good long glance at his room, wincing silently when he realized just how thoroughly he had damaged the place in his tantrum. "Just give me a few minutes to clean this place up."
"You got it bud!..." Yang said with a bright smile and a thumbs up, though Varimas did not see this due to his back being turned on the brawler. This caused her to pause for just a moment.
Then, seemingly in a trance, Yang began to walk towards Varimas but hesitated once Varimas turned around to face her causing her to shuffle backwards back towards the doorway. Varimas of course noticed, tilting his head as he watched the sudden shift of Yang's mood take place. "Everything okay?"
"Uh, yeah! Yeah, everything's fine!" Yang laughed nervously before she rushed the rest of the way to the doorway, ripping the door open wildly. "I should get outta here!"
However just before she flew out of the room, she halted in the doorway, and with a bowed head muttered something so quietly Varimas had to strain to hear it, though they were words that he would not soon forget.
"...You know... I think you look better without the mask..."
With that Yang scampered out of the room to rejoin Blake and Wrath, leaving Varimas alone in his room, with a small smile gracing his face hidden under his felfume mask.
"...Thank you... Yang..."
Hope you all enjoyed! Next one-shot should be out soon enough! Thanks for reading!