Aftermath
It was a calm day on Auir, one of the first in years. Not long ago, Amon, the Fallen One, had been vanquished at the hands of a combined force of Daelaam Protoss, the Zerg Swarm, and what was left of the Terran Dominion. For the first time in history, all three races stood united before a common enemy: a Xel'naga that threatened to destroy all of reality, their reality. It was an unprecedented moment, one that would echo throughout each specie's histories for generations to come. And it was in that unity that their enemy, the enemy of all creation, was destroyed. It was in that unity that they had achieved peace.
In a remarkable turn of events, Sarah Kerrigan, the Queen of Blades, once archenemy of the Protoss, had ascended to become a Xel'naga, a god for all intents and purposes. Shortly after, Zagara, the new leader of the Zerg Swarm, declared peace through isolation for the time being. The Terran Dominion maintained a friendly relationship with the Daelaam and they would prove to be beneficial allies for a long time. And the Tal'darim departed from Slayn, in the hopes of finding a new homeworld.
Artanis sighed in resignation at the latest interaction with Alarak and his Protoss. Only a few short dayss ago, he'd offered the Highlord a chance for him and his people to join the Daelam as a united Protoss race. And he refused, much to the young Heirarch's dismay. However, as a caveat, Alarak did allow any of his followers who wanted to join them one chance to do so. Those followers would be arriving in orbit of Auir soon.
"Something wrong, Artanis?" a voice spoke behind him. The Khalai turned to see Matriarch Vorazun approach, her footsteps as silent as ever. It came naturally to her, as it did all Dark Templar. Still, the first time he encountered one, his very first experience with Zeratul, he'd been more than a little unnerved. Living among that Nerazim for some time at this point did remedy this somewhat, but it still took some getting used to.
That feeling could not be said with Vorazun, however. Even being perhaps the youngest leader among her people's history, just like him, she had proven to more than capable of being as silent in her approach as the rest of her kin, perhaps even better. Being the daughter of Raszagal did have such a merit. Yet he somehow never found that sense of unease with her. If he were to guess, it would be because of the many interactions with her on Shakuras, both before and after her ascension to Matriarch. Still, he could not quite place why he didn't feel uncomfortable by her silent movement.
"Just Alarak," he answered simply, looking out over the cliffside he stood, watching the rebuilding of Antioch before him. Even in the waning daylight, he could still see the shining towers of gold and blue mixed with grey and green, colors of both Khalai and Nerazim. It was a time of rebirth, of rebuilding, not just for the people of Auir or Shakuras, but for the Daelaam as a whole. In their time together, they had saved each other from annihilation twice, the first time when the Zerg invaded Auir and the second when the End War began and most of the Khalai Protoss had become servants of Amon. Artanis figured he owed the Nerazim for their part in preventing the end of their race both times.
"You know he is not so easily swayed," she stated, keenly aware of what he was referring to. "Not even by your words."
He felt her come to his side and turned to look at her. She too was staring down at Antioch, but her focus was also just at the horizon in general. The Matriarch looked serene, the moon rising behind her, outlining her form in a silver sheen, the faint wind gently brushing her purple and gold robes which framed her slender body, giving her a strangely alluring look. Even the hydralisk skull adorned on her right shoulder did nothing to dispel her appearance.
"Why are you out here, if you don't mind me asking?" the young Hierarch asked.
Surprisingly, he heard a sigh psionically projected to him, a mannerism normally not found in the Protoss. Artanis had first experienced the noise from James Raynor, back when he first helped them defeat the Overmind. It was often used to express a release of tension or frustration, according to the Terran. Artanis thought it odd at first, that making such a noise was unnecessary, inefficient. Like many things when it came to Terrans, he was proven wrong. Though he had no mouth, no orifices in general just like all Protoss since birth, he found that even just mimicking the gesture could relieve a surprising amount of tension. Apparently the mannerism had been picked up by a number of others, Vorazun included.
The Matriarch had only met Raynor twice before, the first time after he and the Terran had successfully closed the gate to Aiur, even if only briefly. It was the first time he had also encountered her.
He remembered their first encounter vividly. In the first hour he had set foot on Shakuras, he had thought the planet was dark and cold, colder than his liking. Not only that, but the world seemed to be stuck in eternal twilight, a far cry from the warm rays of his homeworld. It was a stark contrast to that of Auir
He remembered coming across a single Dark Templar, dressed in the blue robes of an acolyte, dead Zerg littering the ground. When he spoke, he then realized it was a female. He remembered getting a cold look, like he had just insulted her, or accidentally treaded on hallowed ground. Now that he thought about it, that may have been more to do with the near-complete lack of garments around his body at the time.
Artanis remembered that it was through Zeratul that he was able to get her name: Vorazun, Daughter of the Matriarch. He would not get to see her again until after her mother's death, when they both ascended to become leaders of their respective people.
"It is nothing," she told him. "Just another series of disputes with the Templar and Judicators."
Artanis furrowed his eyebrows. "What were they arguing with you about this time?" he asked, his voice getting deeper with malcontent.
"Not arguing," Vorazun clarified. "Telling me that my people cannot settle in the Khor-Shakal."
"The Heart of the Conclave?" he questioned.
She nodded.
"The Judicators have no power anymore. They cannot simply bar your people from building a new home, even if they want to."
"But they still hold much social influence among the Khalai," Vorazun pointed out. "They can still sway their opinions in favor of keeping my people out."
The Hierarch sighed in frustration. "I will go talk to them, remind them of their place. We abolished that position in the hopes of avoiding the pitfalls of the Conclave, the reason we were almost too late in stopping the Overmind."
"I know," she said. "But it still seems as if some of your still don't know that."
"Then I will endeavor to remind them of such," he promised, his voice filled with that familiar conviction she knew meant he would not budge on his decision.
The young Khalai began turning away when Vorazun spoke again. "Artanis, if this behavior continues, we may end up leaving Auir altogether."
He froze, blue eyes looking down upon her. Now she looked up at him, shining emerald, green orbs staring back at him. "Leave?" he asked in disbelief. "After everything we've been through, after all the friends we lost and the sacrifices we made to get to this point, you suggest that you and the Nerazim just leave?"
Were she a more timid woman, she might have shrunk before the large Khalai male, withdrawing her comment out of fear or respect. But she wasn't a timid woman. She had backbone. She was Matriarch of the Nerazim for a reason and was considered a second-in-command to the Daelaam for that same reason.
"If it comes to that, yes," she answered him, glowering in response to his aggression. "My people cannot continue to live being antagonized by the Khalai as if the last six years never happened. I will do what I need for them, even above what you want."
Artanis stared into her unwavering green eyes, giving him a look that was both fiery and cold at the same time, a look he hadn't seen on her since the last time they vehemently disagreed on something. And that happened to be a long time ago at this point.
His eyes softened as he looked down at her. Gone was his earlier harsh attitude, now that he had time to think on what she said. He wouldn't force them to stay, no matter how much he wanted them to. He took up the mantle of Hierarch because the Khalai and Nerazim believed in him, because he commanded their respect. What would that say about him if he forced them to stay like a tyrant? They would become enslaved to his will and he'd end up being no better than Alarak or, worse yet, Amon. He would never become like either of them, not while he still lived.
"I'm sorry," he told her, his voice little more than a whisper. "It's just that…"
She looked into his eyes expectantly. Instead of answering immediately, he closed his eyes and turned away. "I would miss you if you were gone."
Vorazun's eyes widened in shock. Of all the things he could've said, that was perhaps the last thing she expected him to say. Was he really implying what she thought he was implying?
"Be careful, Hierarch," she warned him, her voice almost teasing. "Saying that around the wrong people will make them believe you have feelings for me."
Artanis's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "And what if that was true?" he questioned. "What if I had feelings for you and wanted to court you?"
"Then I would be flattered..." She hesitated before continuing, "but I would need time to think about this."
Now he didn't understand. "Do you not feel the same way?"
"I… I don't know…" she sounded uncertain, a far cry from her own air of passion and confidence. "That's why I need time to think about this."
He tried not to let it show, but he was a bit disappointed she didn't have similar feelings to him. Unfortunately for him, she was perceptive enough to see it on his face. "You must understand, Artanis, I haven't had time to think about what I want for myself. My position as Matriarch has made me focus on my people, especially in the wake of my mother and Mohondar's death as well as the wars in recent years. I haven't had time to think about my own wellbeing."
The young male nodded in understanding. "Now that the End War is over and Amon is no more, do you believe you do now?" he asked.
"Perhaps a bit more," she admitted, "but there is still much left to do. My duty to the Nerazim will never truly end, not while I still lead them."
He took the answer in silence, his eyes hanging low. Awkwardly, she raised a clawed hand and placed it on his shoulder. He lifted his head to her in surprise, but said nothing. For some time, neither of them said anything, neither daring to move, instead opting to continue to stare into each other's eyes. In his, there was a mix of uncertainty and awe, like he want to look at her like a lover, but knowing that he shouldn't.
At first, in hers, there was a look that matched his, only with greater uncertainty of the situation at hand. Only a bit later did that uncertainty turn into softness. She had never really taken the time to stop and simply look at Artanis before. With this recent revelation of his feelings for her, she now took the opportunity to not simply look at him in passing, but to see him for who he was. And what she saw did not disappoint. She saw not only a fair, charismatic leader, one who was what they needed now, but a strong, passionate, even caring man, one who could garner the attention of any female he chose.
And yet he chose her.
"Artanis," she finally said, breaking the silence between them. "I will give you an answer soon enough. I just need some time."
"And I will gladly wait until you do," he told her in return. Slowly, she lifted her hand from his shoulder, still staring into his eyes even as he began to turn and walk away.
"Good night, Vorazun," he said in farewell before heading down the cliff, back to the city.
"Good night, Artanis," she returned the courtesy before staring once more into the land beyond, the sunlight faded, instead basking in moonlight.
Originally, she came to the cliffside above Antioch to relieve her thoughts. Those were satiated, but now were replaced tenfold with questions, ones that, for what felt like the first time in her life, she could not answer.
