Recovery and Goodbye

Sirexx eyed the scene around him warily, as if he wasn't ready to believe what had just transpired. On the ground lied many gladiator corpses, which he and his two comrades had fought against and won, against all odds. He, along with Yr'haxx and Kritass, were all covered in nasty cuts and bloody hits but all of them were alive.

However, one detail raised concern within him. Where was Danoxx? He had seen his former High Ambusher in the fight limping heavily, without a doubt because of some kind of injury. Where was he? Had he escaped the fight before the end?

"Did either of you see where Danoxx went?" Sirexx asked his comrades, his voice carrying deep exhaustion in it.

"The last time I saw him was a few minutes ago. Also, there a few less corpses than what we fought. Two or three escaped." Kritass affirmed as he continued to count the fallen. Sirexx looked at him in slight relief.

"They won't be a threat at a fraction of their former strength…" Sirexx's face quickly fell as he seemed to recall something important. He quickly turned to Yr'haxx with a frightened expression on his face.

"Where did you leave Ke'nir? We must help him, now!" Sirexx exclaimed at the other Unseen, the adrenaline of the battle previously clouding his other thoughts. Yr'haxx turned on his heels, quickly heading for the small glade he had last seen Ke'nir.

Danoxx gritted his teeth and groaned under his breath. The swift retreat with his broken ankle was causing him severe pain and made it hard for him to follow the few gladiators who had managed to escape the battle. They moved at a fast pace, despite not expecting the rebels to follow them. After an hour of running, one of the gladiator finally stopped, the others following his example.

"What can we do now? We cannot return without proof of our mission's success!" A rather short gladiator exclaimed in rage.

"How could Jukaxx and Etiksh lose to those cowards? A gladiator must never lose to a filthy Unseen!" Danoxx looked at the two clearly worried. If his last comrades decided to turn against him, there was little chance for him to resist. He backed away slowly, trying to stay away from their sight. As the gladiators' verbal fight intensified, he noticed something interesting peeking out from a nearby bush. The ground around it was covered in hemolymph, demanding a closer look at its source. Danoxx pushed aside a few branches until he found what he was looking for. It was an Unseen corpse and a fresh one at that. Moreover, Danoxx knew who the deceased qiraji was.

Svr'ash… so that's why you weren't there fighting for us. Please tell me you still have it….

The wounded High Ambusher searched the dead Unseen's pockets, hoping to find the object that could save his and the two gladiators' lives.

Aha! Thank the Creator you still had it… This will save my face!

Danoxx looked at the late Sar'nexar's crystal, grateful beyond words that Svr'ash had kept it for so long. This was the evidence they needed to present to the prophets. He slowly put the crystal to his pocket and closed Svr'ash's still-open eyes for the last time. He had never really known Svr'ash personally but the Unseen deserved this last act of honor. Danoxx then rose up from the corpse, once again approaching his comrades the crystal in his hand.

"Look at what I managed to get my chelae on! I guess our mission's done, don't you think?" The two gladiators exchanged glances, communicating deep distrust on the Unseen. However, he might have just saved their hides. With Svr'ash and Uvesh's crystals, the prophets just might accept the completion of the mission. It wasn't likely that the last rebels would ever bother Ahn'Qiraj again. One of the gladiators grabbed the crystal from Danoxx's chela and said coldly.

"Consider this as a repayment for your deeds, filthy cripple. Don't do anything funny or else the prophets will surely search your mind…" Danoxx gritted his jaws but didn't answer the threat. If his were true, he had managed to survive the mission… unlike probably Ra'jol. Danoxx hadn't actually seen his friend fall but he had a bad feeling. There were slim chances that he had survived the fight but Danoxx still kept on to his slight hope. He hadn't even dared to contemplate the scenario that Ra'jol wouldn't return.

Ra'jol, please… Don't tell me that you're gone. You're better than this and you know it!

With thoughts like these, Danoxx and the gladiators resumed their journey back to Ahn'Qiraj, hoping that the word for their failure would never spread inside the walls of the sacred city.

"Ke'nir, where are you? Answer if you can hear me!" Sirexx called on the small glade Ke'nir had led him. He had told the brown Unseen that this was the site of the battle but nothing could be seen or heard now. Nobody answered his calls which sent cold chills creeping down Sirexx's spine. Had both of the combatant's perished or even worse, was Ra'jol still on the hunt? The many drops of hemolymph on the ground confirmed Yr'haxx's story and only deepened Sirexx's fears. However, it also meant that the combatants couldn't be far. Whoever was the wounded one wouldn't be able run for a long distance.

Sirexx walked around the glade, scanning his surroundings in careful detail. There had to be some hints around the fighting ground, something to remind of the events that had transpired only a few minutes earlier. Nearly everywhere around the glade grew only, thick forest, the rare exception being mere openings to other similar glades. He walked around, looking at the other openings and finally, after many minutes of desperate searching, he found a slight trail of hemolymph, most probable from the same one who had received the severe injuries.

Sirexx begun to follow the trail which was growing thinner by the minute. The bleeding had stopped quickly: whoever had received them was lucky: the wounds didn't seem to be lethal. But the outcome of the fight was still unclear as the combatants were still missing. However, the trail would reveal it sooner than later.

The trail led to another, smaller glade which seemingly bore nothing different than the previous one. Sirexx, however, followed the trail and soon found what he was looking for. At the far other side of the glade, he saw two still forms lying, showing no signs of life. Sirexx sprinted immediately towards them, deep in horror over what he would find.

"Ke'nir! Answer me, please!" Sirexx pleaded but received no answer. As he approached the two Unseen, he stopped for a moment. His eyes rested on the sight of Ra'jol's ruined head, bringing endless horror and severe nausea upon the brown Unseen. His thoughts were completely clouded by the sight, not being able to part his gaze from the disgusting sight. It was only after many minutes that he managed to wrest control of his mind back. He once again resumed his walk and finally saw the other form behind his old friend's broken body.

Sirexx quickly begun to inspect Ke'nir's seemingly lifeless body, looking in horror at the ground. The black Unseen had lost a terrifying amount of hemolymph, only worsening Sirexx's already severe fears. He put his ear on Ke'nir's chest, listening if there was even a slightest heartbeat. After a moment, Sirexx could hear nothing and was already beginning to resign to the possibility that his friend was already gone. However, soon he heard it: one soft voice, confirming that Ke'nir was still alive.

"Bandage the leg with whatever you can find! He's still alive but the bleeding has to stop! There's not much time!" Sirexx called to his two comrades, rising from his knees and beginning to gather the thick, long vegetation that grew between the trees. He knew they were an unsure method, not necessarily stopping the bleeding. However, all the actual bandages were now used and there was no time to see if the dead gladiators had any. Ke'nir had only minutes to live.

All three of the Sar'nexar returned soon and begun to bind the plants together in an effort to tie them firmly enough to cover the entire cut. It was highly lucky that Ke'nir was unconscious: knitting through his chitin and flesh would be highly painful and any kind of struggling would ruin the chances of success.

"That should do it… The bleeding has stopped." Yr'haxx said in an exhausted voice after the weeds and leaves covered half of Ke'nir's leg. Sirexx looked at their handiwork, reluctant to agree with his comrade but he had to accept the truth. They had done what they could: all they could do now was wait for Ke'nir's recovery. If it would ever happen. Ke'nir was far too weak to say anything safe from his future.

"You're right. Ke'nir's fate is now in his own hands." Sirexx looked at his unconscious friend in an apologizing, regretting expression and sighed silently. Even if he was needed to fight down the gladiator group, he couldn't help but feel that he could have avoided this situation. His mind slowly turned back to Ra'jol, still horrified by the injuries he had received. He didn't have the slightest of ideas about what had transpired during the fight but the injuries both of the combatants had received was truly gruesome. Sirexx couldn't but loathe what Ra'jol had done to Ke'nir but he couldn't blame his deceased comrade for the fight. Whatever his motives, Ra'jol would never have fought dirty or wished to cause unnecessary pain to anyone. Throughout their time together, Ra'jol had never left his comrades' side or showed the least signs of being a coward or disloyalty. As Sirexx knew him, the yellow qiraji was always a worthy comrade.

"We must help Ra'jol begin his last journey, whether it is to the Creator or nothingness, I cannot say." Sirexx whispered sadly as the magnitude of his words registered on his mind. He had never foreseen this moment and wished it even less. The ordinary qiraji custom was to bury the dead in the sands of Silithus, the insects slowly grinding the deceased to being one with the sacred land and even further, with the Creator. If it wasn't possible to return the body to Silithus, it was usually burned when the wind was blowing towards An'Qiraj. It was his comrades' wish that the dead qiraji's spirit would find the holy land by joining the wind on its journey. However, none of these ancient rites were relevant now.

"What shall we do? We don't want him to join the Creator, do we?" Kritass asked carefully, not surprised by Sirexx's wish to perform the rites on his former friend but how would he do it?

"No… even though that's what he would want. We'll do a greater service for him. He lived with honor and courage and he will rest in peace, free from His influence. Maybe he will find in this ground." Sirexx said, his mind dwelling in the implications of the whole situation and even more, his idea to offer Ra'jol the best possible afterlife. He knew the choice wasn't his to make but he wanted to do what he thought was the right thing to do. The two other qiraji simply nodded, acknowledging Sirexx's authority in this matter.

"But we shall wait until Ke'nir awakes. I'm sure he would wish to bid his farewell as well." Sirexx turned his back to the two other qiraji, finally beginning to sob. They grew more profound quickly and the two other Sar'nexar let Sirexx deal with the situation.

The sun was finally begging to appear from the eastern horizon, its bright light finally ending the night of fear and grief. The first rays pushed their way through the canopy, lighting the small glade. Hours passed slowly and Ke'nir's situation staying unchanged. Sirexx sauntered around the scene, in deep fear about the possibility Ke'nir wouldn't recover from his injuries.

Yr'haxx and Kritass took this rare moment to rest after the last night's ordeals. Even if they hadn't known Ke'nir for as long as Sirexx, or weren't quite as concerned about his recovery as their fearful comrade, they dearly hoped for his awakening. Ke'nir's guidance and help had been invaluable during their journey and he had always been a trusted and helpful ally. Losing him would be additional unfortunate loss during this journey of misfortune and strife.

Ke'nir twitched uncomfortably in his sleep. The wound in his leg and the improvised bandages caused immense pain to the unconscious qiraji but his mind was too shady to register the woes of his injured body. The black Unseen's thoughts were back on his journeys and at the Prophet's Promise, once again living through his many adventures and the endless days in Tanaris, waiting for some glorious future which turned out to be something completely different. Once again he saw the lands only a few qiraji had heard about, the orange coasts and forests beyond the vast desert-plains of Kalimdor, sharing the journey with this dear, long-since passed comrades. Ke'nir smiled as he recalled his many evenings with them, talking about things beyond a qiraji's reach. Those were happy times but they wouldn't go on forever.

One by one Ke'nir witnessed his comrades' fall by the hands of tauren, centaurs and the elves. The elves were a mere nuisance back then, seldom seen be the few qiraji groups. The sight of his friends' still faces, their bodies impaled by the spears of savages, caused his blood to boil once again and his heart grow heavy. In the following years, he decided to leave his duties in the long-range squads.

This was a time of heavy expansion for the great Qiraji Empire. Small outposts were built everywhere in the southern lands, offering many opportunities for willing qiraji to prove their worth to the Creator. None of the qiraji had the privilege to stay still or spend an easy life but staying in Silithus was less dangerous and taxing as moving to the new settlements. The Prophet's Promise was one of the oldest of these outposts, its founding dating back four decades already. Ke'nir wished to relocate to a larger village and the Promise was far enough into the alien territory to still use his hard-earned tracking skills to his advantage.

Danoxx was the name of his new High Ambusher and the following mission were nothing compared to the treks of thousand kilometers in his previous group. Ke'nir quickly earned more wealth and fame than he had ever dreamt off and it seemed to be enough for two of his comrades. However, only Sirexx understood his desire for something more. The brown qiraji grew to be his closest comrade as he voiced his interest in knowing Kalimdor and the lands outside it better than the others, understanding their world in more ways than the prophets had told them ever since they were little else than newborn. Ke'nir couldn't help but smile as he remembered their enthusiasm in the findings of the old explorer who claimed to have found his way through the Great Sea to this new, strange land of Tel'Abim. Those days seemed so far way now… as if they had happened on a different lifetime. Little did he know back then that they would find out far more of the true face of the world than they ever suspected.

The sensation that grew in Ke'nir's dreams was one of deep nostalgia and growing uneasiness. He could have dwelled in these deeply treasured memories for an eternity but on the other hand, his recent memory slowly started to return into his mind. For the first time in what felt like a century, Ke'nir started to feel that things weren't as they were in the depths of his mind. That they were very wrong, in many ways that Ke'nir couldn't remember. Suddenly, a violent strike of pain hit his leg, the first sensation that broke his mind's silence.

Sirexx had sat down to a small rock, trying to calm himself down. The minutes went on slowly, agonizingly so while Sirexx only felt his fears grow ever deeper. He was startled deeply by a pain-filled scream that emanated from his left, from the spot that Ke'nir was lying.

The brown Unseen quickly turned his gaze to Ke'nir who had begun to twitch heavily, raving slightly. Sirexx quickly went to his side, trying to get his voice through to his injured friend.

"Don't move, Ke'nir! You're seriously injured and your life is still on the line! Do you hear me?" Sirexx spoke loudly and slowly, trying to make his message as clear as he could.

Ke'nir didn't have the least of ideas what was happening around him but he heard Sirexx's voice speak to him. What had happened?

"What's… wrong with my leg? Why does everything hurt?" Ke'nir mumbled intermittently, not yet able to see Sirexx due to the haze in his eyes.

"Ra'jol cut your whole leg open. You've lost a lot of hemolymph… that's why things seem a little a little wobbly… Can you remember anything?" Sirexx spoke in relief but still sad to see his old comrade in this situation. Ke'nir closed his eyes and thought for a moment. Soon he answered silently yet confidently.

"Yes… There was a fight, I was injured and Ra'jol…" Suddenly, Ke'nir's eyes flinched wide open and he tried to rise to a sitting position, a move that was immediately rejected by Sirexx.

"Don't. You're very weak. Ra'jol's dead, Ke'nir. We're in your debt for that." Sirexx said sadly, noting Ke'nir's darkening expression. So he had won and lived but was it worth Ra'jol's life?

"Where is he?" Ke'nir asked ominously.

"We found you by his side but we took his body there, to the edge of the woods." Sirexsx pointed to Ra'jol's direction, not sure whether Ke'nir could see it. The black Unseen turned into the direction, his eyes only seeing an unclear, large object lying still.

"So I did… as did you, apparently." Ke'nir's voice turned into a low, apologizing tone while it still carried a clearly questioning tone.

"We did. Danoxx and two gladiators escaped but all of the others are gone. We're free from the prophets' grasp. The way to Dustwallow is clear!" Sirexx spoke jubilantly, willing to lighten Ke'nir's spirits. However, Ke'nir's next question disappointed Sirexx lightly.

"What shall we do with Ra'jol?" Sirexx answered shortly.

"That depends on you. You killed him and was the last person to meet him. I was planning to bury him here, to honor his memory without gifting him to C'thun." Ke'nir looked at the deceased qiraji, unsure what he wanted. The pain in his leg was unending but on the hand, it was he who had initially stabbed him into his chest. Ra'jol hadn't done anything he wouldn't do.

"That's a good idea, Sirexx. He lived with honor, let us let him keep it."

The day was slowly turning to dusk when Ke'nir was finally strong enough to attend Ra'jol's funeral. The severely injured Unseen slowly found the strength to rise to a sitting position and which he eventually turned into a wobbly, yet still sustainable stand. Kritass and Yr'haxx were more than happy to see their guide and comrade recover his strength and be able to rejoin them. Ke'nir was still highly dizzy and still very weak but he had regained full consciousness and control of his body. Sirexx approached Ke'nir once again, willing to address him on a vital issue.

"We cannot prolong Ra'jol's funeral any further, Ke'nir. His body will soon begin to rot and then all of us are vulnerable diseases." Ke'nir looked at him for a moment, answering shortly.

"Very well. Let's do it. Ra'jol deserves to be laid to rest and Svr'ash some kind of remembrance…" Ke'nir rose from the rock he was sitting on, beginning to approach the pit the three other Sar'nexar had dug during the day. Everything was ready for the highly dreaded ceremony. Sirexx stood at Ra'jol's side, the corpse lying close to the pit that would be its final resting place. Yr'haxx and Kritass were far from convinced about Ra'jol's deeds but they still wished to pay their honors to the qiraji who their comrades were so bound on honoring.

"Ra'jol, forgive us for denying you the comfort of the Creator's mercy you would have willed to find in death. Believe us that we do what we feel is the best. Svr'ash, you are not with us anymore but thanks to you, we still live. I hope you will understand that you've written your name in the history of the last free qiraji group there ever will be… You have our eternal gratitude, both of you. We may not offer you the ordinary funeral but we won't have to. We are the Sar'nexar, the ones who are bound to remember our people's past and glory. According to our oldest legends, the heroes of our people are not bound by the location of their resting places, meaning you will still find your place among our forefathers, if not with the Creator. Kalimdor is our home, not He." Sirexx ended his speech in sad voice, clearly grieving his fallen comrade heavily.

All four of the Sa'rnexar then closed their eyes, paying their respects to the fallen Unseen. According to tradition, one's own thoughts were unnecessary to say out loud, any secret or important issue being fit to be only heard by the higher beings. Even now, the Sar'nexar were speaking in their minds to the ancient congregation of their race and to the world. It was the best they could believe in anymore.

One by one, the rebels reopened their eyes, to say that they had said what they had to say. Ke'nir was the last one to do so, due to his conflicted emotions concerning the deceased Unseen. Finally, he did so, his eyes meeting those of his comrades. It was time to put Ra'jol to rest. However, before that Ke'nir spoke last few, traditional words for a fallen comrade.

"We don't know whether you heard our respects, Ra'jol but know that you were a worthy comrade. Wherever you've gone, you're not alone. We will follow you in time on this one, final journey. You've made your people proud." After the final words, Sirexx and Ke'nir raised Ra'jol body and threw it into his grave. Both of the qiraji were without an expression, their faces frozen masks of sorrow.

Kritass and Yr'haxx joined their comrades in filling the grave, willing to help the to try to deal with horrifying situation. There was nothing more to say: everything that was on their hearts had been spoken and only an endless amount of time could heal the scars of that day's memory.

Ke'nir snatched another pile of earth for the tomb when a new, disturbing sensation flowed through his body. It was a wave of cold, a sensation he had only felt while in the highest parts of the mountains northwest of the endless plains called the Barrens. It was a disturbing, unusual feeling which momentarily stopped his movement. The pain in his leg had only grown sharper by the day, now emanating its way into the Unseen's torso. Before he had only dismissed it as a consequence of his clearing mind. Now, however, he begun to doubt that. It wasn't the only symptom anymore as it was accompanied by the new sensation and never-ending fatigue.

The unseen quickly resumed his duty, his thoughts still fixated on Ra'jol's passing. However, a new haunting, gnawing feeling that the curses of his wounds weren't over yet. Something had happened after he had received the wound, unknowing whether it was serious or not. For now, at least, he would take joy in the fact that he had awoken from the grisly sleep, unlike his less fortunate friend. The new sensations couldn't be dangerous anyway…

Ke'nir has survived the fateful duel and the Sar'nexar have fended of the dire threat. Yet, the way to Dustwallow Marsh is far from safe. Will Ke'nir's symptons prove to be serious? Will the rebels find their sanctuary? This chapter came quite fast but now I'll tend to a side project of mine. It should be completed in a week but I cannot say when the new chapter is up. In any case, have a great time and take care until then!