Setting: Multicross (Warcraft/Magic: The Gathering).
A Runner Walk Across The Multiverse
Chapter 01
The bow creaked as the tension of the string pulled back its wooden curve; there was a brief quiver on the muscles of my arms and back, confessing hours of tireless practice.
The metal of the arrowhead met the middle of my middle finger while the index stayed pointed on the targeted. Three breaths I took to gauge the distance and speed of the wind, and then I moved my aim upwards and released the arrow.
It only made a sound when it left the bow, cutting the air in a shrill chirp then continue its way in utter silence. Its blur disappeared against the orange of the late afternoon skies as it reached the apex of its arc, only to appear again on a distant mountain hundreds of meters away, where the target line was set.
With my keep eyes, I could see it piercing straw circle right at the very edge of it, joining its brothers and sisters on the area furthest away from the bullseye.
Another failure, I groaned my frustration loud out and tightened the grip of my bow, just why can't I…
The sounds of muffled giggled drew my attention.
"Salarian, Cynthia!" I shouted at my littlest of cousins who were once again laughing at my shame. "What have I told you!?"
I snap one of the last arrows out my quiver, making a show of settling it against my bow that had the desired effect of making the children let out giggling squeaks and haste away.
Before I could pursue, however, I noticed the unmoving form of the tall man standing nearby.
"Ah, uncle!" I said, quickly putting my bow away. What must he be thinking!? An aspiring ranger about to engage in a childish squabble. I tried to control the warmth spreading across my face. "Er- What… What brings you here?"
He pays no attention to me for a few moments; his eyes were draped over the horizon.
Finally, he says.
"At least you are hitting the target now."
…I closed my eyes and tried to rein back the anger, I am not the same man I was years ago, I'll not going to snap for something so small as one of uncle's backhand insults.
"Still trying to be a ranger?"
"I will be a ranger," I said, a bit firmer than I should.
"Hum." He trailed his slightly glowing eyes away from the distant mountain and settled on me. I took a breath and stared back at them.
"Your mother calls…"
A gasp echoed as I awoke, it was sharp and gurgling, a dreadful ode to sickness itself. I lay there amidst what appeared to be hazy light, colors, and a ringing sound, my mind just starting to clear enough for me to make sense of things. Then the pain exploded over my chest, making my entire body churl and provoking another gasp.
I realized then that the gasps were coming from me.
"You called for me, mother?"
The officer was at the very peak of the spire. She sat on the high table illuminated by the afternoon sunlight that pierced through the western and northern windows. This is and has always been a very airy room; it's an arcane wonder how the piles of document stayed on the table with the amount of wind that steadily blew past the glassless window. Her vermilion armor gleamed in the light, molding against her chest, shoulders, and arms, leaving her midriff bare only to continue downward to cover her legs. One would wonder with she is wearing it now when her days of battle were relics of the past. One would also be very foolish to wonder that if they knew the life she had lived.
My mother laid the writing feather over the unfinished document and directed her attention at me. I saw her lips curving upwards slightly. The action alone almost made me let out a deep sigh of relief; it means I'm not in trouble at the very least.
"At easy." She said with a hint of laughter, and this was what allowed me to relax the rest of the way.
This wasn't intentional of her, or at least I don't believe it was, but a Ranger-General of Silvermoon, even a retired one, carries a presence that made you straighten up to attention no matter who you are. And my mother, being who she is, found that highly amusing.
She gestured me to approach and I did so, climbing the steps to put me at level with the high table. When I stood before her, she slid what appeared to letter towards me.
"What is it?" I said, picking up the letter.
"A letter of recommendation from Quenan Heartbirth. The talents you demonstrated in the last Everspring festival had finally been recognized. He offers his guidance and invites you to the capital if you chose to accept it."
My mother's words were background noise to my ears; the moment I hear the term 'talents' and 'been recognized' was the moment everything else stopped mattering, and I began devouring the letter with undying fervor.
However, it quickly became clear who Quenan Heartbirth was.
"Royal… minstrel!?"
Of course, I hadn't picked up a bow at the last Everspring festival. Instead, I went with my pipes and my lute… How could I've been so foolish?
"What is this tone of voice?" Mother inquired, her brow furrowing. "Quenan Heartbirth is recognized as the best songster over the last ten centuries, his tunes and lyric reach the ears of king Anasterian Sunstrider himself first before they are released to the wider public. His words can move nations and shape history, my son. To be acknowledged by him is a great honor."
"Acknowledged as a songster!" I argued.
"And rightfully so, as anyone that hear your voice would add."
My slap my hands over the table in a loud thud. "You know I want to be a ranger!"
One look from my mother's eyes and I knew I'd gone too far. I quickly straightened my back and took a step back. "My apologies."
She signed, ignoring my insolence. "We are all born with gifts to give this sunlit world. Archery is not one of yours, my son."
I clenched my jaw and looked down, my leather glove creaking by the tightening of my fist. I knew what they thought. I knew what they all thought; I had this exact conversation with many of my family, both in long rants and short occasional comments. This shouldn't be affecting me like this.
"Even Vereesa managed…"
There was a soft rustle as mother stood from her chair and circled around the table. She laid her hand on my shoulders.
"Lirath, you don't have to prove anything…"
It was the way her words trailed off that made me focus on her again just as I was starting to roll my eyes. I noticed she had tilted her head, her expression betraying no emotion as her eyes steeled on something behind me.
"What?" I said, looking back as she quickly moved past me and to one of the windows.
It didn't even take three steps to reveal the approaching warships.
"…They have come for Quel'Thalas."
"Garhh!" I groaned, trying to shift my stiff body over the surface I was laying on. My arms feel like great bounders, impossible to lift, my legs moved with the awkwardness of a toddle, and my chest, my chest blasted with piercing spears of agony each time I moved, it would have yanked a few screams from me had my throat not been so sore and dry.
I blinked firmly, desperately trying to push through the haziness and figure would where I was and what was happening. Pain came in each gurgling breath, sweat came with the pain, and the world was a shifting nightmare of blues and white that my mind couldn't make sense of.
A form appeared on my vision, an amalgamation of white and gold and blue that thankfully seems to converge in the shape of a quel'dorei woman. I took solace on the familiar sight, and my mind finally concentrated enough to recognize the white of a healer's robes.
A healer, I'm in a healer's tent, why?-
A deep, watery cough broke its way across my throat and left, and the following agony left a metallic taste in my mouth.
The healer started to fret over me.
"Uncle!" I shouted, releasing the arrow with an almost instinctual aim. It flew across the courtyard and through uncles' blonde locks before lodging itself deep in the neck of the green monstrosity that was lunging towards him.
Without pause, he finished the chanting and unleashed a ray of pure fire over the encouraging monsters, scorching their skins and melting their armor to their bodies as they scream and retreat.
My uncle spared a look and a nod on my direction before going back to chant the next spell.
My chest swelled with pride.
I was pulling the next arrow and hoisting it against my bow when a rough pull disturbed my balance. Panic prevented me from leash out, but instead of the weapon of the enemy, I was met with the hard eyes of my Aunt.
"You have done enough. Evacuate."
No further explanation… But then again, this was Aunt Sedrise.
"Right." I start following after her. "We have to clean the west side, call uncle Farris back and-"
"Not us. You."
"What!" I stopped on my track, but Aunt Sedrise kept walking. "Wait, what do you mean!?"
There was a pulse of magic and flash of light, and cousin Sarina stepped out a portal on my side.
"Lirath, to me."
There are several healers over me now; I could feel the warmth of the Light washing over my body. It helped to soothe the pain but little else. My breaths are still coming rattled, my limbs still heavy like mountains, my chest still basted in agony. So much so that it was hard to keep track of everything happening around me.
One blink and there was three healers with their shining hands hovering over me, another and there was one changing bloody bandages and two talking in the background. Yet, another and I was alone in the tent with the place noticeably darker. This continued for an endless period of time.
Somewhere along the way, the white robes of the healer were replaced by green and brow ranger armor with golden lining.
I raised my way-too-heavy hand towards the blurry imaged that was quickly forming into a familiar face.
"Alleria?" My voice was small and raspy; I barely realized it was mine.
"No…NO!" I shouted, shaking Sarina's hold off my arm. "I won't abandon them! I'll stay and fight!"
She reaches out and grips my arm tighter, "This is not the time, you fool! They've taken the beach, lady Alelianna and the others are doing everything they can to buy us time to escape! We have to go, Lirath. The Windrunner spire has fallen."
"Not while I draw breath!" I roared. "If these filthy invaders they can just come here and-"
"Stop trying to be a hero and think! We can't afford to-"
A powerful pulse of heat and pressure was projected by the portal and knocked my cousin aside, making the spell flicker off.
"Sarina!" I shouted, starting to make my way to her downed form before I heard Uncle Varlemar's howl.
"Get down!"
The world turned into a whirlpool of image and sound for a moment.
When I came to be, my vision was clouded with blood that poured from my forehead, and my whole body was aching in places I didn't even know existed.
After wiping the blood the best I could, I raised my eyes. And found myself among the debris of my home, facing a green-skinned horde as they marched forward.
Fear poured down my soul and crawled over my bones; my body was paralyzed for a few moments before a sense of resignation and duty washed over. Pushing back the fear, I rose to my feet, leaving my crushed bow behind, and reach out for the light of the Sunwell that was connected to my very soul. I'm not the most talented user of its energies, but I'm not defenseless either, no true quel'dorei are.
I'll make sure these green-skinned monsters, these orcs, know that.
My hands lit out with raw arcane energy as I strode towards the laughing horde, I would make sure they'd pay for this-
A bestial roar echoed, I turn around just in time to see the enormous orc bring a cursed axe downwards.
"Oh, little sun," Alleria said as she gently cradled my raised hand and brought it to her tearstained cheek, it was a surreal experience to hear Alleria Windrunner, the mightiest and most steadfast of us all speak in such, small, broken voice.
At that moment, I knew what had happened, the confusion of these last few days cleaning instantly by the harsh realization brought by my older sister.
I was going to die.
"Did… did we win?" I managed to ask before a series of bloody coughs engulfed my breaths and made my chest throb painfully.
"By the Light Lirath, don't… Don't speak." She placed a hand on the uninjured side of my chest, looking helpless.
"I…" I rasped out, ignoring her plead, "I got them… With my bow…" I grinned through bloody teeth. "I'm… I'm a ranger."
Alleria let out a grief-stricken sob. "Yes you are, little sun, yes you are."
My sister's tearful face was the last thing I saw as my eyelids became too heavy. Her heartfelt sobs were the last thing I heard.
Then, through the deeping dark, somewhere, somewhen, someone let out a surprised gasp.
And I plunged into death.
-0-0-0-
Death was remarkably like the post-injury haze I've been experiencing over my last days, a whirlpool of light and colors rolling away in an endless fall.
There are some differences; the overwhelming smell of strawberries was a particularly confusing one, as are the flickering specks of light that jutted over the shifting mass of colors like tiny fireflies in a tall grove.
There is no pain here. In fact, all of my senses appeared to not be working properly. I could feel the general shape of my body, my limbs, my torso, my head, but I couldn't see it, nor did it feel like something concrete. Time here was very hard to perceive; the only thing that seems to matter was the endless fall across the pit of colors.
I thought I had been absolved by the Light, that I've done my duty upon the mortal world, and now I'd be rewarded with the Light's embrace. For a few moments and a few eons, I lamented the fact that the afterlife was not, in fact, a concrete paradise where we could meet those we lost, but instead, it was an experience that transcends physical understanding that turns us into part of the holy force.
But eventually and immediately, I found comfort at the inevitability of my fate.
Just as I was preparing myself to surrender my consciousness to it. The… discomfort started.
It wasn't something I could put into exact words; 'discomfort' was the closest I could get. It didn't encroach me from the shifting the lights like a maleficent entity, nor did it gnaw at my thoughts or anything similar, it just… appeared, one day, or year, or instant, I suddenly stop feeling comfortable here, and I wanted to get out.
'Wanting to get out', this feeling, no, this urge only grew. As the endless mass of colors became more and more uncomfortable, more and more it made me want to get out.
Because of this urge, I learned to move across this space, and as my every thought and reason melt way into a singular notion of 'getting the hell out' I focused on one of the specs of light. And reach out.
For one moment, I felt the whole new cosmos.
Then it sucked me in.
-0-0-0-
The cold made my body tremble before I even woke up.
The first thing I did was to pull a deep, loud breath following some primordial instinct that demanded me to breathe and live; no gurgling this time, part of my brain noticed.
The second was to jump away from the bone-chilling surface and curl over myself for the coldness in general.
"Merciful sun!" I cried and wished hard for it, hugging my shirtless body and rubbing my hands over my arms to try to produce some semblance of warmth.
I was never formally trained in the military arts, but coming from a family known for its adventurers and rangers, I'd picked up some useful teachings over the years. And after this moment of confusion, I started to properly situate myself and look for a weapon and an escape route.
I was in a… burrow of some kind made from ice and… metal. Icy blocks of all shapes and sizes had been stacked over each to form a poorly put together dome of unmentionable shape. There was metal everywhere also, some part of the walls and ceiling, some littered around the place in unknown contraptions and half-broken compartments. My mind briefly traveled to a book I once read on a visit to Silvermoon's grand library about the many races of the world, more precisely, the diminutive race of the gnomes and their affinity metal trinkets.
Is this a gnome nest?
All questions faded away when I saw what appeared to be a lager metal boiler in the middle of the room.
Fire!
I stumbled forward with a speed I didn't know I had, my naked feet scratching the ice and metal along the way. I practically threw myself on my knees before the fire, letting its blessed warmth bring some feeling back to my limbs.
"Oh blessed sun, thank you," I said when the clicking of my jaw became more manageable; I brought myself as close as I could get without touching the red-hot surface.
With the matter of the cold momentarily dealt with, I turn my attention to more pressing issues.
'What happened' was at the forefront, but nothing I came up with, came even close to break the mist of confusion that surrounded the question, so I left it alone for know.
What happened to my body was another pressing one that was just as unexplainable as the first. I quite visibly remember having my chest cleaved by an unreasonably large cursed axe, yet instead of the long gash that had given me unending agony over these last few days, there was a long, gaggled scar running from my right shoulder to my hip. It didn't hurt or impede my movements in any way. It wasn't even ugly, just a long, discolored line across my skin like it had decades or even centuries to heal.
This too, was fairly difficult to answer.
What it wasn't difficult to answer, were the corpses.
Right beside me, going unnoticed until now, there were two half-frozen human corpses. They didn't wear any recognizable armor, and it was impossible to determinate how long they've been dead without magical means, but the fact is; they are dead, there were dead bodies in this unknown nest, and it was most likely work of the one that lives here.
Finding a weapon became an even greater priority after that.
… And of course, given how my luck was running lately, I came face to face with two figures that appeared in the mouth of a hallway at the farthest end of the room.
"Sorry about the mess! Everything Jack kills, he dumps here - bandits, Vault Hunters, CL4P-TL units… If I sound please about this, it's because my programmers made this my default tone of voice! I'm actually quite depressed!"
The one beaming in an obnoxious cheerful voice was a… thing, a metal thing with a wheel at its base and spidery metal arms, the glowing, circular lens focused on me were uncannily like an eye.
Following close behind it was a human woman of blue hair and blue lips. She wore a yellow and black armor that hugged her womanly form like those of the Silvermoon's rangers, but her right arm was left free to show the sky blue lines of a tribal tattoo that stretched around the entire limb.
Later, I would admonish myself for missing their voices as it bounced across the hall, and for not reacting to their presence like I proper ranger should. Part of me wanted to blame this on the series of shocking events that had surely shaken my spirit, but the fact remains that I was caught by surprise, and stood there like a deer on torchlight.
"A stranger!" The odd metallic creature announced in its extremely obnoxious voice.
That broke the spell over me, and I tensed my muscles, ready to throw myself to cover. The surge of arcane light from the woman's tattoo gave me pause, however.
"Wow there, pretty boy. I like myself a shirtless hunk as much as the next gal, but I had a really shitty day so far, so no sudden movements, m'kay?"
Her words were punctuated by a dark blue orb of the oddest arcane energy I'd ever felt manifesting over her palm. I narrowed my eyes at her implied threat.
"OH BOY, a stranger with funny eyebrows has appeared in my lair! what an unexpected twist!" The Metallic creature chirped, throwing his hands in the air. "I wonder what will happen next!"
Just who are these people?
