Author's notes:
Hey, I want to present the 2nd chapter of the story. I have decided that I will make the story a little bit longer - not entirely sure whether it will have 3 - 5 chapters or more. We will see :) Still, I hope you'll end up liking it. If not, please do tell. After all, it's the only way for me to improve and provide better stories in the future. I'd like to apologise for a long time between updates. Sadly, for now, my life is a bit chaotic, yet I believe it'll be sorted out soon :) PS. I have somehow managed to finish up this chapter quite quickly. It isn't long, but I hope you'll like it. Changelog: Schedule for the nearest future: Bonuses' section: *bonuses will be worked on when I don't feel like writing the chapters pointed out in the schedule :D
[2021-05-09]: A preview was posted.
[2021-05-11]: The whole chapter was released.
7. Story of one lost soul (2 next chapters)/(The war call|The heart not so cold).
8. Prisoner of Your Eyes (next chapter).
9. Black Diamond (2 next chapters)/(possibly finishing the story).
10. The rise of the Blood Moons' servants (2 next chapters).
11. Alone (2 next chapters)/(possibly rewrite).
12. Last Christmas (finishing up the story).
13. My home is where my heart lies (a long, possibly 10k + words chapter).
Sometimes it's just better not to know (possibly rewrite).
Kiss the rain (more than likely rewrite).
Whispers in the Dark (extending beyond 2 chapters story).
Story of one lost soul (translation of 2 of my old texts - previously written in polish)
End of author's notes.
At least a couple of days had passed since the siege of spires had been broken. Slowly, the realm of Kyrians began the healing process. Sadly, it would take much more than a mere couple of days for it to regain its former glory. The traitors of the angel-like beings were still a threat that needed to be addressed.
As the Archeon had promised, Devos had been spared. The traitors' leader had been put into the cage located at the very deepest level of the Kyrian sanctum. The access to this "prison" had been granted only to one person – Taerith. By order of Kyrestia, the blood elf paladin had become Devos's guide on her way to redemption.
The blood elf woman was exhausted; there was no sense in denying that. Between the training sessions, participating in councils, and taking care of Devos, there was little to no time left for her. Yet, it was her choice; she needed to endure the consequences of it.
As many times before, the blonde paladin was coming down the stairs toward her ex paragon's cage. Besides the package containing the woman's meal, Taerith carried a vase and a bowl. It was high time for her to take care of Devos's wounds.
It took the paladin a couple of minutes to get there. She might underestimate her fatigue; her legs were constantly trembling. Soon, she started to have serious problems walking and standing.
"I'll have Samara's head served on the silver plate!" the blonde allowed herself to complain. "It's not normal to try to kill the people fighting on the same side of the barrel," she added after a short pause. Whilst thinking about the training session with 'the drill master' – her sister-in-law – she was making comments. "Thankfully, nobody hears me now," she sighed deep inside her mind.
"You're sure of that?" Devos's voice reached her. "Last time I've checked, I wasn't deft," she added a snarky comment.
The blond-haired paladin jumped visibly. She was brought back to reality quite quickly. Without wasting a moment, the woman started to shake her head. How fool was she to get lost within her thoughts? As soon as she regained her composure, she opened the door leading to the traitor's cage.
"Good to see you too, Devos," Taerith greeted the angel-like woman. "I have food for you," she added, pointing out on the package. "I also brought some water and medication. So… I'll tend to your wounds," the blood elf informed.
"Pfff," Devos scoffed. "You should've let me die. If you have had, I wouldn't have to deal with you," ex paragon added venomously.
"Come on… I get that you don't like me, yet I think that it's still better than being dead," the blonde made a comment.
"Maybe for you," the angel-like woman cut off.
"Fantastically, you're going to have fun today, Tearith," the paladin allowed herself to joke, deep inside her mind. "Let's start with your wounds, shall we?" she referred to the traitor.
"Do whatever you damn please," the ex-member of Kyrians replied nonchalantly.
"Splendid," the blood elf sighed heavily. "I'll need to remove some of your clothing. I assure you just temporarily."
"You're that eager to see me naked?" the sudden question was asked by Devos.
"What?!" Tearith jumped, shocked. "Why would you ask about such things? The last time I've checked, it was complicated to clean someone then proceed to tend to its wounds whilst the said person's still fully clothed."
"Is it me whom you tried to convince or you?"
"Be silent! I must focus," the paladin uttered.
"As you wish, little paladin," the traitor chuckled.
To say that the blood elf woman was conflicted would be an utter understatement. She enjoyed the rich tone of the Kyrian's chuckle, maybe… even a bit more than it should have. A couple of seconds were used to regain the composure to an acceptable level. Then, she approached the traitor. With her hands slightly shaking, she began unbuttoning the long toga-like dress. The clothing was made out of a rather unpleasant, rough fabric of greyish colour. In some areas, the fabric soaked enough blood to change colour. Currently, these parts looked like signs of rusting. Or, at least someone could have thought about them as such if the said person had not known better.
It was a ridiculous situation; it was truly absurd. Before she managed to undo the dress, at least a couple of minutes had passed. Taerith gritted her teeth, feeling how tensed her frame was. The smell of the dried out blood and sweat hit her nostrils a moment later. In such a way, the paladin was reminded that no one had taken care of Devos since the siege.
"Are you in pain?" the blood elf woman asked whilst tracing Devos skin with her pointing finger.
"Quit those pleasantries," the traitor demanded. "It'll not take you anywhere," she added, causing the chains to rumble with a quick flex of her muscles.
"You're like a tiger put into a cage," the blonde woman uttered quietly. "You can show your teeth as much as you want, yet you can't escape. It frustrates you beyond imagining," she allowed herself to add.
"What do you know about being caged?" Devos asked with a low chuckle. "What do you know about frustration, betrayal, denial? Hmmm?"
"She knows more than she wants to admit," the cold tone sounded a couple of steps behind the paladin. "I can assure you, she knows the weight and meaning of these words pretty well."
"Ah… and who are you, stranger?" the traitor focused solely on the newcomer.
"It does not matter; all you need to know is that I am the one who led the counter-assault against you," Samara responded coldly. "You should be thankful. You are still breathing only because of Taerith's actions. She fought with teeth and nails for you to have even a chance of redemption. I would strongly advise you to treat her with due respect."
"Oh… I remember you, now," the Kyrian giggled. "You're stronger than you look; I must admit that. But the real question is, why are you here, snowy?"
"To be perfectly honest? I came here by accident," the snowy-white-haired woman nonchalantly answered. "I have heard your talk, and I did not like the way you treat her."
"And what are you? Hmmm… her girlfriend or protector?" Devos asked with a mischievous smile. "You don't like me playing with the blondie?"
"Samara, please stop, don't do anything recklessly," the blood elf woman pleaded. "I can handle the situation."
"Let me help you then," the night elf woman responded. "I can see that you are struggling a bit," she came closer, whispering into the latter's ear. "I saw the way you are looking at her. Let me help you go through this."
"Ok," the paladin nodded. "Can you start with the removal of her toga?" she asked quietly.
Without responding, the night elf woman came past her toward the Kyrian. Compared to the blood elf woman, she did not hesitate even for a second before proceeding with the given task. It did not take long for the long dress to be discarded, revealing the near-naked athletic form of the traitor. As it was to be expected, at least a couple of wounds could be spotted instantly. The cuts had mostly sealed, yet the traces of blood were still visible. More than a dozen of bruises marked Devos skin with unhealthy looking purple. The traitor condition was far worse than the blood elf initially anticipated. Samara allowed herself to touch one of the nastiest looking scars.
"See something you like, snowy?" the Kyrian mocked, flashing a nasty smirk. "I didn't know you were into such things," she chuckled.
"Oh… no, I am not interested in your body. I just merely checked the wound I have inflicted myself," Samara responded, flashing a mischievous smile of her own. "Compared to the other wounds, this one will not heal as easily. Sadly, I will only cause more work for Taerith and me right now."
"You'd love to kill me right here, right now, wouldn't you?" Devos continued to mock. "Go on; after all, you can do anything you want. Still, it's the only way for you to prevail against me," ex paragon tried to enrage the night elf.
"Trust me, I would take a lot of pleasure from defeating you, once again, I might add. Yet, I respect Taerith's decision and her dedication. I will not be an obstacle on her path," the snowy-haired woman responded emotionlessly.
"Pfff, coward!" Devos scoffed.
"Call me however you damn please," Samara uttered, remaining unaffected by the paragon's mockery. "She is ready. You can proceed, or if you want, I can do that for you," she spoke to the paladin.
"If you don't mind," the blood elf responded, lowering her sight slightly. "I'd prefer to talk with her more whilst you take care of the wounds."
"Not a problem, sister," the night elf replied, then proceeded toward her task.
Some water was poured down to the bawl and mixed with some sort of soap. The snow-white-haired woman allowed herself to wait a couple of minutes until the bubbles started to form. As soon as it happened, the small piece of fabric was soaked with the mixture. Then, it was wrung out to get rid of excessive water. After a moment or so, the night elf was ready to proceed further.
"I will start with cleaning up the dirt and sweat," Samara informed both women.
Without waiting for any sort of response, she began washing Devos. Samara was one of the most pragmatic people Taerith knew. For the night elf woman, everything needed to be performed in the proper order. So, she decided to start from the very bottom and slowly progress upwards.
"Why have you betrayed the Archon?" Taerith allowed herself to ask the question which was troubling her. "Why have you betrayed the one who trusted you and cared for you?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Devos scoffed. "Uther showed me the flaws in our approach; he showed me that we were being held inside a crystal box. We were blind, unaware of the threat steadily approaching," she provided an extended explanation, finally redirecting her focus onto the paladin. "At least the Jailor openly admitted what he had expected of us. And… what's the crucial point, he had promised the reward, unlike the Archon."
"So… you joined him in search of some sort of reward?" the blood elf wanted a concrete answer.
"Pff! Of course not," the traitor scoffed. "It was just an extra benefit. After all, serving him would allow me to live once he conquered the Shadowlands. He granted us previously unimaginable strengths, equipped us properly, trained us."
"Arggh!" the Kyrian groaned when Samara began tending to her exposed abdominal muscles. "You're certainly not gentle," she made a comment regarding the night elf."
"Oh… I have thought that I am dealing with a soldier, not a baby," the snowy-haired woman stated stoically. "Should I be more gentle then?" she asked with a smirk.
"Do your job, worm!" the Kyrian spatted through her teeth.
"I will need to reopen the wound I have inflicted," the night elf woman informed Taerith. "I need to get rid of the enchanting powder from the wound. It slows the healing process; without removing it, it might take months for the wound to fully seal."
"Do as you must," the paladin replied.
Without an ounce of hesitation, Samara reached out for a short, razor-sharp dagger. For a moment or so, she looked at the wound, analysing it. As soon as she got what she was looking for, the blade was pressed against the skin; with little strengths put onto the dagger, the metal sunk into the Kyrian's body. The blade cut through skin, a thin layer of fat, strong muscles like a hot knife cuts the butter. After a moment shorter than a fraction of a second, the fresh blood started to pour down from the cut. Alongside the smell of blood, something else was released. It took a couple of moments for Taerith to recognise it; it was the smell of decay. With surgical precision, the night elf woman opened the wound anew. Some fibres looked disgusting, black as if burnt. More than a couple of moments were spent cleaning up the cut. Yet, based on Samara's dissatisfied facial expression, the process was not going according to her plan. The snowy-white-haired woman allowed herself to dedicate another minute to that process before standing up.
"We need to talk," Illidan's daughter uttered.
"Of course."
Without wasting a moment more, the night elf woman grabbed her sister by the elbow and exited the cage. The moment the door closed behind them, the magical barrier was summoned, silencing everything around them.
"I will need to use magic on her," Samara came straight to the point. "Her wound is not healing at all. Pfff… ever worse, the fibres are slowly decaying, which can cause an internal infection."
"You're aware that using magic more complex than basic can affect the chains?"
"I am aware of that, yet, if you want her to live… I will need to use far more powerful spells," the snowy-white-haired woman said, slightly stuttering.
"I see," Taerith replied, lowering her gaze slightly, thinking rapidly. "She's waiting for the opportunity to fight, opportunity to escape. And… by using magic, we're most likely giving her that chance," she added quietly.
"I have beaten her once… if it was necessary, I would do that again," Samara assured. "Still, I need to ask one thing of you."
"What it is?" the curious blood elf asked.
"If… the fight emerged, you would not participate in it; promise me that," the night elf woman stuttered, struggling to find proper words.
"Why?"
"Because… I remember what you told Anchor, what you told me," Samara flash a small smile. "For you… Devos is the same as your sister for me. You will not be able to fight her. And… I would not want you to. I am more than certain that I will manage on my own. And… I promise I will try to inflict as little damage as possible," the older of the women explained.
"The whole situation's starting to resemble the game of cat and mouse," Taerith allowed herself to make a comment.
"Oh… believe me, it has been that way for a while now," the night elf woman said. "To be perfectly honest, we are dealing with two concurrent games. The first one is being played between me - a cat - and Devos - a mouse. And… as you might already expect, the second one is between you – a mouse – and Devos – a cat," she uttered quietly.