It was rather fitting, Edgar supposed. They had started their journey on foot, and unless some outrageously fortuitous turn of events unfolded in their favor, it seemed they would finish it on foot as well.
Despite the fact that they were being relentlessly (Hadn't he only recently sworn not to overuse the word?) pursued, Edgar felt a certain peace. Things couldn't possibly get any worse, at least not between himself and Yvette, and he could take small comfort in that.
She'd lost an eye, but like everything else, it didn't bother her. He couldn't tell if her brother's death was still troubling her and thought it best if he didn't question her on the subject.
He was very weary. Though he'd gotten some sleep, it hadn't been for long, and the cold had kept it from being very restful. A heaviness seemed permanently settled into his limbs. Would he ever feel his nose again? His toes? His fingers?
"Wait here," Yvette said, waving a hand behind her as she continued forward. Edgar didn't even question her, leaning gratefully against a tree and adjusting Tegan's sling. She burbled at him and he wiggled a finger at her, allowing himself a wan smile. He hoped that whatever Yvette had found or suspected she'd found, it wasn't anything overtly aggressive. If he had to fight, he didn't know how long he'd last.
As long as I need too, he thought immediately. They'd come too far for him to just keel over and give up. Yvette had just killed her own brother. Again. He could push through some fatigue and discomfort if she was still functional after all of that.
He looked up through the thinning canopy, putting a hand up to shield his eyes as the sun filtered through. It looked a bit cloudy, from what he could tell. Hopefully it didn't start snowing. Or raining. It was too cold for rain here, wasn't it? Edgar hoped so. He'd rather not find out personally, either way.
"Edgar," the Death Knight called out. He pushed off the tree and trudged past some with low hanging branches, taking care not to let any scratch Tegan as he shouldered his way through. Edgar squinted as he was hit full in the face by the sun, putting up a hand against the glittering, snowy expanse. With green in the distance.
"The fjord!" he exclaimed, unable to help but grin. Yvette, who was unable to do anything but grin, nodded.
"It will be more dangerous here," she said, watching him. Even with one eye, the intensity of her gaze wasn't reduced.
"Because of the vrykul?" he guessed, grin fading rapidly.
"Yes. And we'll be out in the open. The tree cover has provided us some respite," Yvette said, "But no longer."
Edgar exhaled and looked skyward. The clouds looked more ominous out in the open, despite the sun, and his momentary good cheer was quickly evaporating. There had been thin spurts of trees from wherever they'd begun, but from where he was standing, he couldn't make any out. Utgarde Keep glowered back at them, daring them to set one foot into vrykul territory.
Sharing a look with Yvette, they took the dare. Edgar tried to think positively. The snow wasn't as deep here, so walking didn't make every muscle in his legs scream in agony. On the flip side, with no trees to stand in its way, the wind certain gave credence to the name Howling Fjord. Edgar bent his head against the scouring winds, trying to tug his hood down further over his face. Though he'd been keen to watch the skies, Yvette could look after it.
"How long do you think it will take?" Edgar asked. He knew it hadn't been that long since they'd begun trudging, but a time frame would be something to hang onto if nothing else
"On foot, perhaps three days with minimal stops," Yvette answered, "Four realistically."
The Forsaken soldier grimaced and nodded. Even three days seemed like an eternity as the wind whipped around them, and he steeled himself for an arduous few days. Assuming they didn't get waylaid by the Scourge again. Or vrykul. Or the Burning Legion.
Edgar sighed. No matter how he tried to angle it, the carrot he was trying to put on the end of a stick was more of a half eaten, moldy trout. He'd just have to fall back on his own resolve, which was remaining surprisingly strong.
The longer he thought on it, the more he realized he was restless. He was already counting on them making it home, and he was just impatient to get there. If they could just skip all the battles they'd somehow manage to come out on top of, skip the ice cold and fitful nights, and just turn up at Vengeance Landing, he'd be much obliged.
Yvette stopped suddenly and he gladly turned his back to the wind, peering behind them, squinting at the tree line that they'd left further behind than he'd thought.
"What is it?" he wondered, speaking loudly as the wind tried to snatch away the words. Nothing was following them, at least.
"Something is coming," Yvette said. Though he'd have much preferred to credit the wind, her words sent a chill up his spine and he turned around, putting up an arm to block the wind so his eyes could open to more than slits.
He couldn't make much out on the ground, but the conspicuous black dot in the air forced another sigh out of his lungs. Great. What was it? Scourge? No, the Scourge were behind them. That left vrykul or the Legion.
"Vrykul?" he asked hopefully. Things were in a sad state of affairs, he thought wryly, when vrykul were something to hope for.
"No," Yvette said, crushing his meager hopes in an instant, "Demons."
She drew her runeblade and inspected it a moment, and Edgar did as well by proxy, having not much else to look at. The blade was still, after all she'd done with it, flawless. Even in the sunlight the runes etched on the length of the blueish steel (was it steel, or something else entirely?) glowed strongly. The edge still shone wickedly, and not even Antoine's black blood had stained it or chipped it.
"That's a hell of a thing," Edgar muttered, raising an eyebrow. He drew his own sword. Though the vrykul made weapon was sturdy, it had seen better days. Edgar had tried to keep it clean, but there was still blood he couldn't quite get out of the grooves. The edge had lost it wicked sharpness, and he had no means to rectify the situation. Just what he needed when fighting demons – a shoddy, dull sword.
He had considered, for a very short time, taking up Antoine's runeblade. She'd taken it and thrown it off into the woods however, away from their direct trail, and part of him figured touching the blade would be a great deal like touching Yvette – it would burn him.
Besides, the last thing he needed was to be mistaken for a Death Knight.
"There are a lot of them," Yvette said grimly, "They must've be based ahead of us, then. That doomguard had only been leading a scouting party."
"I don't suppose they'll try to bargain with us?" Edgar said. It was worth a shot.
"Not if it's just soldiers," she said, "I can't tell if they have their leader with them just yet."
"So do we have a plan?" he wondered. Yvette had surprised him with the vrykul, so he was hopeful that she had some idea of how to deal with Legion operatives.
"If there is no leader, we fight," she said, "If there is, Edgar, do you imagine you can pretend to threaten Tegan? Convincingly."
Edgar grimaced and looked down at Tegan, who fussed up at him, cranky with her situation in general. He'd gotten a little too attached to the troll baby, and he wasn't so sure he could do as Yvette asked.
"I'll take that as a no," Yvette said. Despite the seriousness of the situation, her tone was wry, "It's just as well. They'd probably kill us no matter what sort of deal we made with them."
"Great," Edgar said, "Sorry, Yvette. I've never been a very good liar. Or actor."
"Don't apologize for your humanity," she told him, holding his gaze for a moment, "Never apologize for it."
He noted her distinct lack of emotional register and only nodded in response. She was still fairly torn up, then, about her brother. Most Forsaken hated humanity. He would admit to hating them sometimes, even though he himself had been one at some stage. Being called a monster and an abomination when, by and large, he couldn't help it had always rubbed him raw. They were only doing what anything else did – trying to survive.
Edgar imagined that Yvette had been a very strong woman when she was alive, for so much of herself to persist through so much trauma. It was sad that Antoine hadn't been able to join her.
They sure could use another Death Knight or two to deal with the demons that Edgar could now make out. Yvette had started forward again, walking towards them without any hesitation.
"Should we maybe... maybe go back to the tree line?" Edgar asked. Something about demons set him on edge. They were real enough, but there were some things about them that just weren't right. Not their outer appearance so much as their behavior. The distinct lack of morality, or at least mortality as Edgar knew it, made them terrifying and alien. What sort of species, collectively, believed in inflicting pain and chaos and still managed to prosper?
"They've seen us," Yvette said, "That we're just walking towards them has thrown them off."
"Can you see a leader of any sort?" Edgar asked, squinting. How was her eyesight so good, anyway? He could make out something winged overhead, "Another doomguard?"
"That's a dreadlord," Yvette said.
"Oh," Edgar said, and after a moment, "A dreadlord?"
"Nathrezim," she said, as though he might not have heard the term 'dreadlord' before.
"I know what a dreadlord is," Edgar said, unable to tear his eyes from the ominous figure even as the wind made them sting, "What else?"
"Mostly felguards," Yvette said. Her tone was quite casual, and she could have just as easily been describing how many leaves there were on a tree, "Some warlocks, too. They're heavily cloaked, so I can't tell what they are."
"Yvette?" Edgar asked, feeling increasingly smaller.
"Yes?"
"How screwed are we?"
"Pretty screwed," Yvette replied. She looked over at him and put a hand on his shoulder. Even through her ragged gloves and his furs, he could feel the cold, "Unless you found the luck fairy."
"I think we may have cashed in all our vouchers with her," was Edgar's lame reply. He carried his sword point down with one hand, the other wrapped protectively around Tegan.
They continued the rest of the way in silence. When the two groups had drawn close enough that Edgar could make them out clearly, it started to sink in that they actually might not make it. The demons didn't seem the least bit bothered by the cold, and if the warlocks were, they weren't showing it, faces hidden deep within their voluminous cloaks.
Just when he'd started to think of a sort of strategy in his head, the dreadlord landed in front of the group and gestured to them lazily. The lot of them stopped obediently, and the cunning demon peered at them from across the fjord.
Edgar had seen a dreadlord before, of course. You didn't live in the Undercity without seeing Varimathras at some stage. Though he was a busy public official, he didn't spend all his time in the Royal Quarter. He certainly didn't mingle with his 'people', but he still had to go out amongst them, much to his obvious chagrin.
It was different seeing one in the... in the wild, so to speak, even if it seemed like a bizarre term. Varimathras was Sylvanas' servant, and if she was angry enough, her pet. He had a tighter leash than a Legion dreadlord would, at least in some respects, and though he was intimidating, you could be assured that you weren't in any real danger around Varimathras. So long as you weren't in trouble with the Dark Lady, anyway.
Not so here. The dreadlord standing before them looked a bit bigger than the Undercity's Majordomo. He certainly dressed more lavishly, his jet black armor gleaming wickedly in the sun, his green tinged wings drawn tight against the wind.
They continued to approach (on Yvette's cue only - Edgar would have been happy to stand still and just stare at the dreadlord as long as they were permitted too), and the dreadlord motioned one of the warlocks forward. Whatever they discussed, the warlock bowed deeply to the nathrezim and took his place behind the felguards a moment later.
Five felguards. Three warlocks. A dreadlord.
He hated this place.
It seemed fitting, Edgar thought, that as they were within a stone's throw of the dreadlord the wind stopped. Yvette seemed to take it as a cue, stopping and waving Edgar behind her.
"We finally meet face to face," the demon said snidely, watching Yvette with his keen burning eyes, "What's left of it."
"What do you want?" Yvette asked, "We're in a hurry."
"You've led us on quite a merry chase," the dreadlord said, his eyes lighting on Edgar, who was peeping around the Death Knight, "I must admit, I am impressed to some degree. Considering your limited resources-"
"Shut up," Yvette suggested. Edgar cringed when the dreadlord's sneering smile twisted into a scowl for a moment. That hadn't been a terribly smooth move on her part. It obviously liked listening to itself talk.
The nathrezim stretched out an arm, talons curling skyward, as though expecting something to be placed in it.
"Give me the child, and you may go on your way," he said, wings shifting slightly against his back.
Edgar pressed Tegan to his chest possessively, glaring at the demon. Maybe a Forsaken wasn't the best caretaker for a baby, but a dreadlord was probably the worst sort of parent imaginable. He was kidding himself, he supposed, if he thought that the dreadlord would see to things personally but... still. Just because there were a hell of a lot of demons didn't mean they were good parents. They probably all hatched out of eggs or were born from nightmares or something like that.
"If we don't?" Yvette asked.
"We'll take it," the demon said, flexing his hand slightly. Edgar saw that he had one hand behind his back, and noticed that the felguards and warlocks were beginning to creep forward. Though he'd almost certainly gestured for them to do so, he amused himself by thinking the demon has his fingers crossed behind his back.
"What do you intend to do with it?" the Death Knight asked. Her slow, measured demeanor was obviously wearing on the demon, who was likely used to a bit more groveling or bravado from his opponents.
"I don't think you need to concern yourself with that," said the dreadlord, "Just hand it over if you value what's left of your lives."
"Her name is Tegan," Yvette informed him.
The nathrezim's pale lip curled into a disgusted sneer, "I assure you that Tegan will be well cared for."
Yvette turned deliberately and looked at Tegan and Edgar, then back at the dreadlord.
"What are your credentials?"
Edgar could tell what Yvette was doing, but it didn't make it any less nerve wracking. She was trying to wear the dreadlord's patience down, picking a fight. Since it was so deliberate, the nathrezim would likely stall longer in an attempt to appear more in control of the situation, to resist giving in to her baiting.
Judging by his expression, however, his patience was a tad shorter than most.
"Give me the child," he growled, wings opening slightly.
"No."
"Die, then," the dreadlord spat, clenching his open hand into a fist, "Do not expect mercy when you change your mind!"
He snarled something over his shoulder in eredun and launched himself up into the air, wings stirring up air a moment. Edgar allowed himself to be distracted by the take off, but the clatter of felguard armor snapped him sharply back into focus. The warlocks, curiously, weren't advancing. Less curious and more ominous, they seemed to be casting some sort of spell.
They'd cross that bridge when they came to it, he supposed.
The fighting was surreal. Most of the demons swarmed Yvette, only one of them attempting to fight Edgar. Whatever it had been ordered, it had involved not harming Tegan. Having the baby strapped to his chest was allowing him some margin of protection against a full demonic assault.
Small favor. It only meant it was trying to severe his limbs instead of outright crushing him.
He didn't even have a spare moment to check on Yvette, even though realistically he shouldn't have too. If anything, when he was surrounded by demons, that would be his tipoff that something had happened to her.
What he did catch a glimpse of, however, was the warlocks. The ground around them was beginning to crack, fel green light seeping through. He had no idea what they were doing, but it couldn't be good.
Edgar only just avoided a low swipe from the felguards sword, landing back on his feet clumsily and falling backwards. He kept his balance for half a second before falling completely back onto his as, making his jaws jar together painfully.
He looked up with wide eyes, hugging Tegan close to him and scrambling backwards. The felguard was really getting into the heat of the moment, and Edgar was beginning to worry that it wasn't going to go easy on him much longer.
Then he saw something that made him want to curl into a ball and weep. There was a slash of crimson off in the distance, closing rapidly, if erratically. Vrykul. Just what they needed right now, more people trying to kill them.
"Yvette!" he cried out hoarsely.
"I see it!" she shouted back, "Get closer!"
Edgar didn't know how he was going to do that, but if the vrykul was just going to sweep in on a protodrake and torch the lot of them, he'd rather be under one of Yvette's anti magic bubbles than cooking alongside a felguard.
Getting to her, however, was another issue entirely. The felguard on top of him wasn't giving him much room to maneuver, and when he glanced over his shoulder, all he could SEE was felguards.
A screech overhead tore his eyes upwards and he saw the protodragon swooping in, maw yawning wide as it belched fire out onto the group of warlocks. It was a bit of a clumsy pass on the riders part, the bulk of its breath striking the ground next to them, but it was close enough to set all three of them aflame. As they all screamed and scattered, trying to put themselves out, Edgar chanced a look at the rider.
Riders.
Two Forsaken.
"Anne!" he blurted, completely oblivious to everything going on around him. She looked a bit roughed up, her expression quite cross as she struggled with the protodrake. The other Forsaken was clinging to her for dear life, his arms wrapped tight around her waist. Edgar didn't recognize him, but that was just like Anne, wasn't it? He could see white robes peeking out from under a tailored coat. Of course she would've brought a priest with her. Pragmatic to the core, even when she was on a daring rescue mission.
"Edgar!" Yvette shouted. He snapped back to reality and rolled away from the sword coming down for his head, dropping his own so he could grasp Tegan with both hands. It wasn't like the sword was of much use anymore. Being battered by a felguard had notched the already dull blade severely.
After his roll he dared a look up. The protodrake (Anne was here, she'd come after him, he would have never even dared to hope!) had banked around and was coming in for another pass. The felguard after him was yanking hard on the blade it had just buried into the frozen ground, snarling in frustration. There were at least two limbs on the ground near Yvette, but her four assailants didn't seem deterred.
The dreadlord. Where was the dreadlord?
Almost as if summoned by the thought, the demon swooped up behind the protodrake, talons shining wickedly as he rushed for the two unaware Forsaken.
"ANNE!" Edgar screamed, pointing emphatically. His outburst upset Tegan, but he was too focused on his wife's peril to pay much attention. Both Forsaken twisted in their seat and caught sight of the dreadlord, but to Edgar, it looked as though they were too late-
There was a flash of steel and the dreadlord spread his wings wide, effectively stopping his decent up short.
Seeing his wife on the back of a protodrake, waving a vrykul battleaxe over her head threateningly, Edgar had never been more in love.
A triumphant grunt told him that the felguard was back in action and he tore his eyes away. Anne still looked like she was struggling with the protodrake, and considering how temperamental they seemed, he was a bit worried for her.
Weaponless, Edgar scraped himself to his feet, backing away from the creature warily. His eyes darted around for his sword, but it was on the wrong side of the felguard. It bared its teeth at him, making Edgar cringe, and it advanced again.
With a hearty yell, Anne slammed into the felguard's head feet first. The momentum from launching herself off of the protodrake as it swept past was enough to help her bowl it over entirely. Somewhere out of his field of vision there was a thin yelp and then a thump, but he wasn't the least bit curious about it.
She hacked ferociously at the felguard's neck until it stopped twitching. Though Anne spared a glance at Yvette, she pulled the axe out of the fallen felguard and rushed over to Edgar. He ran to meet her, laughing wildly, and caught her waist, lifting her up and spinning her in one joyous, if clumsy, turn before bringing her close for an embrace, burying her face in her hair.
Tegan squawked in dismay at being squished between them and he laughed harder.
"What is-" she began.
"How did-" he said at the same time.
They both thought better of speaking just yet and kissed. Edgar cupped her face with shaking hands, scarcely able to believe what was happening. Against all odds, she had found him. He'd have to find the luck fairy and shake her hand. Maybe he'd even give her a hug, considering.
"I'm really sorry to interrupt," the Forsaken that had been with her wheezed, "But that woman could probably use our help. And I don't see the dreadlord anywhere."
Edgar broke away and looked over at the man. He was fairly tall, for a Forsaken, and made Edgar feel a great deal better about his bald spot. The willowy man didn't have a scrap of hair on him.
"Igor," the man said, offering his hand awkwardly, "Nice to finally meet you."
Igor looked like he'd seen better days. Edgar shook his hand and nodded at him.
"Stay with Igor," Anne said, turning on a heel and stalking towards the four demons accosting Yvette. Her armor had been rent and dented in so many places that it was barely even there anymore, but still she fought on.
Relentless, Edgar thought with a smirk.
"I thought my brother was emasculating," Igor muttered, brushing off his coat and looking up at the sky pensively. Tegan squalled and he jumped, "What is that!?"
"Troll baby," Edgar said casually, "Her name is Tegan. We found her."
"Found her," Igor repeated.
"That's the story," Edgar grinned.
"That's a story I'd like to-look out!" Igor exclaimed, grabbing ahold of Edgar's sleeve. Edgar gasped as he was yanked upwards, pain blossoming in his shoulder as sharp talons dug into them. So sudden was the abduction that Igor actually wound up tearing off the sleeve of Edgar's fur coat.
"I'll take that," the dreadlord snarled furiously. Hovering midair, the demon made a clumsy grab for Tegan, but he couldn't do it without clawing her in the process. Edgar grit his teeth against the pain in his shoulder and glared at the demon.
"Over my dead body," Edgar spat back, immediately regretting it.
"That can be arranged!" the nathrezim informed him. If it weren't for the fact that the demon was trying to find the most efficient way to kill Edgar and spare Tegan, Edgar might have appreciated the heat radiating off of him.
Narrowing his eyes, the demon wrestled Edgar into a different position, losing some altitude in the process. Edgar watched defiantly, but a moment later regretted making eye contact. When he went to glance down at the ground, he found he was compelled to keep staring into the dreadlord's eyes. His mind thrashed wildly when it realized what was happening. No! He refused to be manipulated so easily-!
What felt like icy knives suddenly sank into his leg, snapping him out of the spell with a ragged gasp. The knives seemed to bury themselves deeper, hooking into him, and suddenly he was going down, torn away from the demon's grasp. Edgar let out a cry as dreadlord's talons raked over his flesh, and then he hit something colder than the knives had been, the wind knocked out of him.
"Be more careful," Yvette said, shoving him roughly away from her. There were only three felguards left now, two still on Yvette, while the third (sporting only one arm) was battering Anne.
Edgar gasped to regain his breath and gentle hands helped him up. Tegan was full on wailing now, very unhappy with all the noise and rough bumps, and Edgar nodded at Igor.
"He's not happy," Igor observed, keeping his eye on the dreadlord, who was circling the battlefield like a vulture.
"He basically ripped my shoulder off," Edgar muttered, trying to move it. Igor laid his hands on the wound and concentrated, but Edgar noticed he only repaired some of the deeper damage.
"I'm sorry, that's all I can do," the priest said, "I've had a very trying few days. I'm taxed."
"It's all right," the soldier said, slapping Igor on the back, "I think it's about over now."
Igor winced but nodded, absently rubbing where Edgar had slapped. Not the sturdiest fellow, was he? Leaving the priest to his own devices, he kept an eye on Anne as she helped Yvette finished off the felguards. Despite the fact that they were losing steadily, the demons fought tooth and nail.
Anne and Yvette closed in on the last one, Yvette facing it, Anne behind, when Anne happened to glance over at Edgar. She offered him a cheeky wink and he grinned back at her, startled when her expression faded to something more alarmed. Abruptly, she changed course and charged towards him, waving at him wildly.
"Edgar! Get down!" she exclaimed, eyes wide. Edgar grunted as Igor shoved him out of the way, and from his position on the ground he saw that the priest was directly in the swooping dreadlord's path. Obviously he'd lost track of the demon, distracted by Anne and Yvette systematically dismantling the felguards.
"Igor you idiot," Anne grunted, checking Igor rather roughly with the haft of her axe. He yelped and pitched forward. Edgar's eyes widened.
No longer picky who he grabbed, the dreadlord snatched Anne adroitly and soared upwards.
"Yvette!" Edgar exclaimed, scrambling to his feet again, "Yvette, get Anne! Like you did with me!"
Yvette, her sword up to the hilt in the remaining felguard's belly, looked over at him and then up, before saying, "She's too far away."
"Shit!" Edgar exclaimed hoarsely, running his hands through his hair. Everything had been perfect just a second ago. He should have grabbed a weapon and helped instead of standing on the sidelines with Igor. Igor who was supposed to be watching the dreadlord!
Igor's eyes were fixed upwards as well, watching the two shapes struggle with each other.
"Look out, look out!" Igor exclaimed frantically as an axe came plummeting to earth. It sank in solidly, hitting nothing of consequence. Yvette joined Edgar and Igor, looking upwards along with them.
Edgar could only watch as his wife struggled futilely with the demon. Tegan had prevented the dreadlord from unleashing on him. Anne did not have such good fortune. He paced back and forth, beside himself, feeling like he was going to throw up. Edgar couldn't even remember the last thing he ate, either.
"Please, please," he begged quietly. The dreadlord dropped altitude suddenly and Edgar strained to see what was going on. Anne was very skilled, but a dreadlord in hand to hand combat, midair? No, she'd swooped in to save him on a protodrake. She could do anything.
The nathrezim released Anne a few feet off the ground, letting her drop from his grasp with a disdainful sneer. Her body crumpled on the ground like a rag doll, as if there was no resistance in her at all.
"Anne, ANNE!" Edgar shrieked. A cold hand caught his arm and kept him from moving forward until the dreadlord soared back up into the sky again, out of sight. As soon as he was free he roughly unshouldered Tegan and thrust her at Igor, sprinting to Anne's side and falling to his knees beside her.
She was barely recognizable, covered in long, deep lacerations. Edgar only stared a moment, reaching out tentatively and jerking his hands back, terrified of somehow making things worse. Was it possible to make things worse? That thought spurred him forward, and he gingerly put a hand behind her head, lifting it up slightly.
"Anne...?" he asked hoarsely. With his free hand, trying not to shake too badly, he pushed some of her thick hair away from her face.
This simply wasn't happening. Not at all. He was having a dream, a terrible dream, and he'd wake up from it any moment now. Yvette's prolonged presence was just giving him nightmares, was all. Edgar gathered Anne up and cradled her limp upper half against his chest, burying his face in her bloody hair.
He was aware of his body lurching, of wracked, inarticulate sounds coming from his throat, tearing at it. Try as his body might, it couldn't quite manage tears. It was the final insult, really. After everything she'd done for him, he couldn't even cry to mourn her.
Igor hadn't been very thrilled with Anne's protodrake idea, but for a moment, as they'd soared in and interrupted some dark warlock ritual, he'd started to see why everyone seemed to like adventuring so much. Their entrance had been downright heroic, straight out of a book, even.
As things had unfolded, however, their heroics had taken a dark turn. What adventure tale ended with the heroine dead in her husbands arms?
Could he put this one on his blame list? He'd gotten distracted by the fight, lost track of the dreadlord, and then... no. No, he'd tried. He'd put himself in harms way. After all Anne had risked, she hadn't deserved to get it snatched away.
But then she'd taken it a step further and rendered it all moot anyway.
The baby he'd been handed wriggled and waved her arms, starting to slip out of her swaddling, and Igor absently readjusted it for her. He glanced over at the Death Knight – Yvette, Anne had said – but reading her face was an impossible feat. Her single eye was fixed on Edgar for now, and she seemed disinclined to comment.
Igor wondered what it would have been like for Ivan, if he'd been presented with his twins body. Would he react like Edgar was? His entire body shaking with grief that it couldn't fully express? It was a terrible thing to witness but he forced himself to watch. This was why the Burning Legion was so terrible. If it hadn't been for the Legion, none of them would be Forsaken in the first place. Sometimes it seemed so easy to lose sight of that simple fact.
"We should keep moving," Yvette finally said, her hollow voice sending chills up Igor's spine.
"I think he needs more time," Igor replied quietly, "He's just lost his wife. Perhaps he'll want to lay her to rest-"
"If you believe the dead stay buried here, priest, you are more foolish than you look," she snapped at him. Igor flinched, expecting to be struck, but she had only lashed out with words.
"Well, what are we going to do with the body-"
"Carry it."
"That's a bit traumatic, don't you think?" Igor protested.
"We will do whatever Edgar wishes," Yvette pressed. Igor opened his mouth to argue but thought better of it, swallowing, "Is there more in your rescue party on foot? Or was it just you?"
"There were... well, we were five, but we split up," Igor explained, "My brother's... girlfriend was kidnapped by the Legion. A dreadlord, actually."
He blinked rapidly, the weight of his words sinking in. Dreadlord's weren't the commonest of creatures. If one had snatched Makenzie, it held to reason that the same one was after the baby troll.
Tegan.
Shalar'zahn wasn't going to approve of that name at all.
So what would a dreadlord want with a Forsaken and a baby troll, exactly? The two things seemed so wildly incongruous that he couldn't even find the slimmest of parallels.
Yvette walked forward and knelt next to Igor, and he hung back, as much as he was curious to hear what they were talking about. As it turned out, they didn't whisper, and he could hear quite clearly. It was a bit odd, how fiercely protective the Death Knight seemed to be of Edgar.
"Edgar," she said. Yvette didn't touch him, didn't even make a move too, but Edgar stiffened, "We cannot stay here. The Scourge will pick up the trail."
"It doesn't matter," he replied, his voice muffled, "You go. There isn't anything left for me."
Yvette was silent a moment, considering his words, and she gestured back.
"What about Tegan? If not for you, Edgar, she would have likely died of exposure," Yvette said, "You gave her life."
"What sort of life can I give her?" he said. Igor's heart broke for the soldier. There weren't words to describe just how crushed his spirit was.
"You can't stay out here, Edgar," Yvette insisted.
"Just leave us," Edgar said sharply, "At least if we're turned into ghouls we'll be togeth-," his voice hitched, but he steeled himself to say, "Together."
Yvette touched him then, grabbing his upper arm and squeezing. Just watching it made Igor flinch, and Edgar looked up at her.
"She came for you," Yvette said harshly, "I cannot even imagine the turn of events that led her to ride to the rescue on a protodrake. I cannot imagine all that she sacrificed in order to reach you. If you throw your life away now, Lieutenant Edgar Jerrik, you will violate her memory and her wishes so grossly that even I will be unable to stomach it."
Edgar swallowed a few times, despair etched into his face. He looked down at Anne again and let out a small whimper, fingers curling into her tattered armor.
"I will drag you back to Vengeance Landing if I have too," Yvette told him, "You gave me life, too, Edgar. I would have never considered the possibility that I am more than just a monster."
"She came for me," Edgar said in a small voice.
"You have the singular privilege of being able to remember her forever for her bravery and devotion," Yvette said, her own voice softening some, "Don't let it consume you, Edgar. It isn't what she would want."
Igor braced himself for shouting, for accusations and wild blame placing, for anger most of all, but it didn't come. Whatever had passed between Edgar and Yvette was more than acquaintance. He approached slowly, thinking that perhaps the familiar comfort of the baby troll might ease him some.
"We have to take her body with us," Edgar said thickly, shouldering off his thick vrykul furs, "She was a proud soldier of the Undercity. She'll want to be buried there."
"I will carry her," Yvette said solemnly. She released her grip on his arm as he shrugged off the coat, standing so he could lay it over her. Edgar paused a moment and crouched again, pulling off one of Anne's gauntlets. Shakily, he pulled off a gold band and pocketed it, draping the coat over her. He hesitated a moment, realizing he'd need to bundle her up in it, and Yvette waved him off.
Edgar nodded in silent understanding and turned away, blinking at Igor.
"I'm so sorry for your loss Mr. Jerrik," Igor said quietly. He steeled himself again, expecting accusations, but Edgar only nodded and held out his arms. The priest was happy to hand the squirmy baby off to him, and looked away as Edgar embraced the tiny bundle, wriggling his fingers at her to make her giggle.
It didn't make him smile, but it seemed to give him some peace. Edgar fixed the sling while Yvette wrapped Anne in the coat with surprising reverence.
"I don't suppose you can call that protodrake back?" Yvette asked, holding the bundle of furs up like they weighed nothing.
"No," Igor said, "I'm surprised we stayed on it as long as we did."
Yvette started walking at that, without explanation, and Igor's brow creased slightly. She was rather rude, wasn't she? Edgar seemed to be unaffected, following after her without a word or a thought, his eyes fixed firmly ahead. It was clear he was still in agony, but Yvette's talk had convinced him to hold out just a little longer.
It was going to be a very long walk home, and an even longer zeppelin ride. They'd all be riding home on Anne's dime, after all. Technically Edgar's too, he supposed. All things considered, he didn't envy Edgar, and the entire situation was making him worry.
Makenzie had very likely been kidnapped by the same dreadlord they'd just dealt with. They'd put it in quite a foul mood.
He hoped his brother was being careful.
...well, he hoped Murdok and Shalar'zahn were making him be careful. For all their troubles, Igor only had one brother, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing him for any reason. At least Edgar had been present, even if he'd been powerless to do anything. Was that better or worse?
Igor hoped he never had to find that out for himself.
A/N: A bit shorter than usual but it was traumatic to write this chapter okay D: