Chapter 36

The Common Sin


X Jihad X

Contrary to the ominous statement by the stag-like Cenarius, Sin spent the following day resting. Though time had been gained in the lightning fast destruction of the siege, the prolonged exposure to Sekara's Demon Soul left Sin mentally fatigued – as well as something else. The alien state his mind was forced in had triggered a response, he presumed, and so his qiraji-tainted brain began to adapt around it, preparing itself for future sessions like muscles after work. Magical exhaustion too left him flagging. There was no instant cure for it even beneath the rejuvenating hands of the goddesses he partnered with.

The final edict that stayed the worn but ready Sin was a suggestion by one of Elune's Host. The message given was concise yet powerful, saying simply, "Tomorrow, the Beast will be blinded." To have his own words stolen from his mouth startled the proud warlock, and the certainty of it had him reluctantly but reverently agree to wait. Blinding the Beast had been his own plan, a harvest planted in many seeds, yet it seemed it was not yet time to reap.

So he rested. Freya lent him a hidden Fountain of Mana, urging him to bathe in its the soothing waters, and he gladly complied – on a condition.

"A foot bath?" questioned the Avatar of Freya, her vrykul-imagined face showing a fond mix of intrigue and natural condescension.

"It is a practice of my homeland," Sin insisted then, "and while we lack the sand here that makes it necessary, it is only polite after all you've done for me. You'll enjoy it, I promise."

"Though I contain a fragment of her, I am not Freya," argued the Avatar. "You owe me no thanks."

Sin leaned against Lynona, carefully in how he forced his terms. The succubus was working demonic magic over his back, using queer sayaadi fingers to eradicate his exhausted muscles and leave amorphous goo in their wake. Or she was giving him a massage. He often got the two confused. Her fangs bit into his neck lovingly, hearing his thoughts and thanks.

"I remember," started Sin, "that it was not Freya who nearly took my head for wearing the warlock purple that day. It was not Freya who bequeathed the reflective shell we used against that asshole cultist, nor Freya herself who showed me the Waygate and its function. Neither did Freya fight alongside me in the cultist war, and it was not Freya who patiently endured my presence for the last too many hours as the goddess resolved her other duties. I have many thanks for Freya, good Avatar, but you are your own woman and not to be forgotten."

"I am a semi-sentient construct," deadpanned the giantess, but her lips betrayed amusement for the strange warlock.

"A semi-sentient fragment of a goddess is still more than a full man. Come, and learn the hospitality of a de'Rath."

"Incorrigible is the word for you. Very well, Sin. A foot bath."

Lynona nipped him sharply with her teeth, pleased at his triumph, and she ceased her wicked spellcraft on him to begin leading him down the trail towards the Fountain. The Avatar followed, shaking her head.

Then we get her clothes off, chirped the happy succubus, and with liberal doses of the Charm and a cunningly disguised sayaadi sex massage, we'll let things steadily progress, until-

Incorrigible is the word for you! We are not seducing the Avatar of Freya, Sin rebuked straight-faced.

Master, you need to put this in proper perspective. We have before us a taste of divinity, under our very fingertips. A chance of its like is not soon to come again.

So Har'koa is off-limits, but Freya is fine?

Lynona's arm tightened its hold over his, and the tone she presented her thoughts in was both terse and fierce: Har'koa wants a claim over you. She desires of you a mate and a follower, another worthy face in her harem. But you are not just a worthy face. You are Sin de Rath, my beloved master, and you will not settle for such a lowly position, not as her inferior, nor as her equal. You will be her greater.

She huffed out loud as her thoughts lost focus for a second, then continued, I am a succubus; I don't care about fucking. Har'koa, Sekara, Narelle even, they all want a piece of this Sinful pie, a claim to your desires, your attention, the ambrosia of your carefully given love – a pie that is all mine, and I will not share that with such creatures. Except Sekara, because I have to, and because she's offered her own cake in exchange for the pie she has taken, and because- Aaaannnyways, I see nothing wrong in a little conquest, for the experience of it, but when the greedy little harlots decide they are worth more than their place as throw-away bedside toys, that's when they become dangerous.

Sin considered the explanation of a succubus' jealousy for a quiet few moments, feeling her mind eagerly latching onto his every thought, awaiting his judgment in a rare show of vulnerability. However, he had no judgment for her, not even for the despicable way she regarded other women, knowing he was prone to similar thoughts towards others – not as conquests, but as inferiors. Everyone, tools to his will. His was a mind proud of its own superiority, the narcissism used not as hubris but as an ideal he strove to live. Lately, even the gods were beginning to fall short of his expectations.

You've been in my head during my own jealousy, haven't you? he asked finally as a reply.

I have, but explain it to me.

Briefly, Sin considered their similarities, not just as naturally possessive people but also in their ambitions, their disdain for others, and the weight they put in worth. How much was coincidence, and how much was a reflection of master and servant? Lynona waited patiently.

How does a man with two consorts explain his jealousy?

I can't stand it, he admitted. For someone I desire, who also desires me, who feels the urges for me that I do for them, whose heart has placed me in that position to fulfill them, for them to give themselves to another – I can't stand it. Knowing that in that moment, they are desiring someone else. That their passions that were once for me have been raised for someone else, that someone else is satisfying them. That, in that moment, I have been wholly replaced in their mind, and heart, and body. My worth to them, forgotten. It is not a defiling of the body, as it is sometimes claimed, but the defiling of the heart. 'Sharing' is such a soft word for a matter so hard; it is why I told you not to share with Sekara.

Sharing with Sekara was the only way I could have you then, and I will not lament my choice, Lynona answered simply. There was an echo of the intense emotions they had both felt that day at the reminder. Without love though, why does it-

Her hoof slid suddenly over the damp earth, distracted by the internal conversation. The slip threatened to send the succubus tumbling over the edge of the hill they climbed, but Sin's reaction was immediate, catching her wrist and quickly steadying her. They both paused at the episode, staring at each other, then laughed softly in the wake.

"Fucking mud," Lynona complained, shaking the gunk off. Their hands remained locked as they continued down the trail. Aloud, she repeated, "Without love though, why does it matter?"

Sin remained conscious of the Avatar behind them, and he answered over the bond, The significance – the difference – between lover and friend is cheapened. A connection once unique is no longer so. In your own words, the eyes once fixed solely on me now stray towards others. Doubt rears its ugly head, knowing you are being compared and that you may be found wanting. Replaced. Love is a fickle thing, beloved, and doubt is its death. One way or another, doubt is its death.

Their souls parted to their usual distance, pausing the exchange for a moment to think. Like Lynona before him, Sin was left vulnerable to her judgment, knowing the succubus would only find his ideals ridiculous, but the trade was only fair. She, a sadistic queen of impartial sex, had explained the harsh truth of her desires, so he, the indomitable master, showed the insecurity beneath his jealous heart. A lesser demon might use that against him. A lesser master might fall prey to such manipulations. They were neither.

And like him earlier, Lynona had no judgment for his views, not even the hypocrisy of his double consorts, and with a squeeze of his hand, she replaced a reply with a tangential topic: You are never going to forgive Madam Shaharaz, are you?

On the contrary, I forgave her long ago, but I will never forget the lessons she taught the young Sin.

Their moment was interrupted by a third voice, this one calling, Master. Though it carried no question or curiosity, it was searching for something – its place in this private discussion.

Lynona's hand began to tighten possessively, only to find Sin pulling her whole body to his, holding her with equal possession as they advanced. Her lips turned up impishly at it, coiling her tail around his waist.

You are both mine, Sin stated firmly. But you are my consort and she my lover. That is the difference.

Yes, cooed Lynona over the bond, tell that tart she's nothing more than a political marriage. A necessary but unwanted interloper.

Sin's disapproval was a dying flame under his amusement. While Sekara was usually ignorant of Lynona's light teasing, she was learning quickly, and this time she pleaded, Lynona!

The succubus chortled, shaking her head at the qiraji's complaint. "Try as I might, I just can't hate her. She's a tart, but a gooey one, and her glaze is stuck all over my mouth and fingers." A dramatized sigh followed. "Those qiraji girls have no right being so damn delicious. I mean, if we must suffer a harem, I don't think there's any better."

"If," Sin repeated blandly.

From behind, a strong voice spoke up, "Pardon the obtrusion, but you have been speaking over the demonic bond between master and servant?"

Sin felt Lynona spook within his arms, forgetting the Avatar had been near behind them, and her voice rose up blithely, "Oh, hey there, Freya. What's the what's that in the where now?"

Laughing at the panicked demon, he answered, "We have been, mostly. Habits die hard though and sometimes words slip out."

"It interests me, this bond," the Avatar said. "The goddess knows all forms of communication between species, even those lost or yet to come. However, this particular connection is unknown to us, wrought of the pervasive magic from beyond our universe." Her throat cleared. "And I am not Freya, hellchild. I am a mere fragment of her spirit molded into a shell of flesh."

Lynona's relief was overflowing from her end of the bond, twisted in lingering anxiety as though a conspirator just caught in the act. It was a struggle to keep the emotion off Sin's face while speaking to the Avatar. "If you have questions, I will answer as best I can."

"Thank you. Most immediately, I was under the impression that actual communication was impossible. You can speak as though of tongues?"

"Recently, yes," Sin admitted. "It is a tie between our souls, so it is only natural that thoughts and emotions could be felt in faint whispers from each other. Privacy isn't impossible, but the slippage is the natural state of it. Before, indeed communication beyond very simple and obvious messages was impossible. Go there, wait here, attack that. Simple commands. But after our reunion, I still don't know if it is the work of the qiraji over my mind or another trait that rebuilt our bond ever stronger. Words put to thought could be heard, emotions are sharper, and even lines of thought can be followed. With time, we have learned to draw our souls even closer, to be heard and felt as though of one person. I have even briefly lived through her, forgetting my own self to hear, feel, touch, and taste as she does. It is an exquisite experience, but of course, not one to be done with those untrusted."

The Avatar's impress could be heard in her voice. "Fascinating. This is true for the demon-qiraji as well?"

"No," Sin and Lynona said overlapping. Their eyes met, then returned forward when she bumped him with her hip. Sin explained it: "While true in theory, the qiraji mind is a fae thing. Sekara needs no more than the barest whisper of my thoughts to know them in full, while her own can barely be put to words like ours can. Yet, when she speaks, she is heard. I believe their innately psychic tongue has given her some boon to projection, for Sekara's words can be heard even by Lynona through her bond with me."

Finally, their path terminated before a small cadre of armed nymphs, their skin and fur the earthy colors of the Basin. Seeing the Avatar that accompanied them, the guardian women bowed and backed away, bidding them welcome to Freya's private sanctum. With a touch of nature magic, shrubs, vines, and overgrowth peeled away, showing the trail continued beyond, shrouded under the heavy canopy of Freya's retreat. The Fountain of Mana was clear, its waters bright and luminous despite the misty and shadowed glade.

They continued without even slowing down, as if common sojourns to this private recess.

"I presume this peculiarity works both ways? Your Sekara may also read the succubus' thoughts through her bond with you?"

"Sometimes. Well, usually yes. If it's clear enough for me to hear, then Sekara usually does as well, and sometimes she can even when I am too distracted to notice."

"This way," the Avatar bid, directing them counter-clockwise around the pool. "Are these distractions on average with that of verbal communication?"

Sin hesitated, glancing at Lynona with a question in his eyes. She gave a minute shrug and began picking at the ties of her corset. "It is difficult to say. I believe, with good reason, that it is for those native to the Twisting Nether. For myself, even after the qiraji's influence, it is... How do I say this? You know- Well, I don't know if you do, but presuming you are are vrykul enough in form, and that vrykuls are human enough in form, then you should know what I mean, but-

"Convoluted," chirped Lynona.

"Technical," remanded Sin. "Anyways, assuming assumptions, you know how you can be so busy and focused on something that you don't really hear what someone says when they speak to you? But a few seconds later, it finally processes through, and you can reply without needing them to repeat themselves? Like the words were just sitting in your ears and you had to manually let them through? Well, for me, there is none of that over the bond. If I'm not listening, it is lost. Perhaps I'll remember the emotion of it, but very little else. It is rare that I miss something though; usually I'll notice and listen as readily as I do my own thoughts."

With a gesture, the Avatar had showed them what was obviously a common place to enter the pool from. A well-trodden slope gently curved into the waters, while beside it was a flat rock that hung over the pool – a good place for lounging or, Sin suspected of the fae girls, jumping. Needing no further permission, Lynona twisted her leather bodice off in a clean motion and stepped out of her bottoms. Her purple wings stretched wide in the joy of nakedness as she left her leathers behind on the rock.

The demon was first in the sacred waters, challenging the lurking spirits with her blue eyes while she waded in on cloven hooves. Left undefied – and unharmed – she turned with a fanged smile and patted the wide rock. "You first, Master." She did not notice the subtle light that glowed brighter in her eyes after entering the pool, nor the illumination of her fel conduits as the mana-rich waters saturated her skin. Contrasting shadows and light, her image was otherworldly.

Sin glanced upwards at the Avatar, awaiting her approval. With a single nod, Freya bid him into the rejuvenating pool, and so Sin began to remove his own clothing and sealing Shed'lahk, leaving them in a neat pile beside Lynona's. He said to the waiting demon, "I thought you hated feet."

"I do," she answered readily. "Feet are like gross, mutated hands with wiggly little baby fingers clumped together at the end, and I firmly believe that a proper pair of hooves should be the end of it. But, shivarra nobility like their foot massages, so I might as well use my skills on someone I enjoy for a change."

"This isn't another ploy to get me to polish your hooves, is it?"

Lynona's hand pressed against the center of her chest with all the affront she could muster. "Master, I would never!" He stared. She held under the steady gaze, then wavered, then sank into the water with a coy grin. Her hand flicked dismissively. "Sekara already promised to try for me."

"I see." Sin left his sandals with his clothes and approached the waterline, where Lynona's smile quickly wilted.

"Forgetting something, Master?" Her eyes glanced at his rolled up pants deliberately.

"Foot bath, beloved. Do not forget we have around us company."

"You're going to get into the water eventually. At least let me have a treat while I work. Just a little nibble, my beloved master."

Sin sat himself at the edge and gave not an inch to her request, callous to her pouting. He let his feet brush the waters, studying the mild tingle that jolted up and down his nerves from the cool contact. It felt nice, yet such sensations were forgotten whispers the moment Lynona descended upon him.

Exhaling slowly, Sin leaned back against his hands, watching the succubus work through half-lidded eyes. Her own blue eyes twinkling, she made in known she had no intention of acting decently here. After all, her clothes were already off, and his would follow, one way or another.

"I wonder," began the Avatar of Freya from somewhere nearby. Sin had little attention for her, but he politely turned his ear her way to show he listened. "If your bond is representative of all warlocks or if each is as unique as the souls that are joined by fel contract. Already it is clear this hellspawn does not assail you with the ruinous temptations, even against her own wants."

"Don't be so sure," he drawled absently, holding the blue-eyed gaze. Lynona's fangs showed in the dim light, and she left a featherlight kiss over his bare shin, using the touch as an excuse to creep her hands ever higher. A mental command caught her, confining her devious touch to just his feet.

While leisurely testing his patience, Lynona also took it upon herself to answer, "This man has already mastered the temptations of immortal pleasures. Trying again would only incite his great ire. Besides, I love him. Do you understand what that means, Avatar of Nature?"

"Not with certainty," admitted the spirit, her vrykul voice naturally low and seemingly threatening.

Lynona paused to take Sin's right hand between hers, and she cradled it against her cheek, careening lovingly into his touch. Their stare remained unwavering as she said, "That even us demons aren't so different from the natural denizens of Azeroth. I will please him as only I can – with his consent, without it, whatever I believe will serve him best." Her glowing eyes were tinged with fel emotions, smoldering bright under his caress. "I have my wants, curious Avatar, but they don't involve him at my side. They involve me at his."

Sin's finger traced down her cheek, under her chin, and he pulled her head towards him with the direct touch. Lynona came, bidden, until he leaned forward to taste her lips once more.

The Avatar had the decency to wait for them to finish before commenting, "You are an intriguing creature, Lynona of Sin de Rath. I find you worthy of this man, enemy though you are."

The separated lovers smiled secretively, accepting the divine approval. Only when Lynona tried to take advantage of the position did Sin shoo her back to task, finishing up the wash under her sensuous touch. He was loath to stop her there, but he accepted the completion and rose to finish undressing, remembering that their first goal was to soak him in the mana-rich waters.

Under the curious eyes of the many nearby inhabitants, Sin showed no concern, soon joining his demon in the heavenly waters, and they shared another moment in full embrace. When they turned towards the waiting vrykul, still holding each other, Sin gestured to the rock with his chin.

"I will not promise the same as what you just saw, but I am not without experience."

The seated woman raised her head at the call. "That is good, because I do not believe your demon will accept such a sensuous display for me." She began to move.

His brow raised at the succubus, questioning, Should I tell her the truth, beloved?

Not on your life, she answered quickly, showing him a smile. But are you sure you don't want...?

Think of the inevitable grass burns from trying.

Lynona glanced back at the green-covered giantess, contemplative. Worth it.

They shared a moment of private amusement while Freya's Lifewarden carefully sat at the water's edge, allowing her feet to rest in the radiant pool. When the lovers returned their attention to her, they both stopped simultaneously. Sin glanced away first, blinking bewilderment, while Lynona's grin grew ever fiercer.

Like goddess, like fragment, I suppose, chirped the lusty demon. I'm seeing a lot of things I like down there.

Sin kept his expression carefully smooth, and he drifted towards the side so that he was not facing straight up the vrykul's skirt. This damned loa nightvision.

Oh, my beloved master, to be cursed with such sights. How ever will I preserve you against all things carnal and debauch?

He did not respond to the faux lamentations, instead reaching out for the first foot and beginning his part as a good host. Lynona's delighted laugh filled his head, still unmoving from her vantage point. I expected roots or something, but this is a prime baby-maker, divine as the woman who carries it. She-

Beloved, Sin interrupted with the tone of long-suffering.

I'm just informing you of what you so boldly wish to miss out on. Did you know that the Black Ritual uses the nectar of a goddess? A being of her... magnitude, with a belly full of vrykul fire, I'm sure the right milking touch could fill vial after vial of-

Sin severed their connection, pushing their souls to the usual distance and throwing up mental walls between their link. The silence left behind was blessed.

"You are blushing," hummed the Lifewarden. "Lynona with anger and you with something less certain. Another conversation has happened beneath by very nose, it seems."

"You do not want a succubus in your soul, feeding you thought after dripping thought," Sin remarked coolly. He was partly surprised that the Avatar even noticed in the dim light and against his sun-darkened skin, but the sting in his cheeks was slow to relent.

"An argument then? How unexpected."

"If you call a door slammed in your face an argument," huffed Lynona, arms folded before her and punctuated with a narrow-eyed glare.

"You were warned," he drawled, but the wall between them was already crumbling, and their heated souls drifted together as though magnetic, finally touching and smoldering together like two lumps of burning coal.

Their flames licked and burned each other quietly, their thoughts moving but unfocused for reading, until Sin made the first direct comment: Incorrigible.

Wading behind him, Lynona introduced herself with a touch along his bare back, slowly beginning the process of nestling herself against his left side. It's nothing you haven't heard from me before. There was no reason to shut me out like that.

Sin took a patient breath. At its conclusion, he gradually peeled away the veil over part of his thoughts. A heavy, crimson beat waxed into the bond, wracking it intermittently with each hungering pulse, and under its dominating presence, Sin told her, The loa lust has been particularly unruly today. I am at the very edge of my control already.

Lynona shivered in time with his heartbeat, assailed by the unmasked wants and need. Lord of Darkness and Flame, she purred, curling her fingernails over his naked skin. You make a demon's lust look like paltry sparks. Ah, Darkness, even just feeling it is affecting me. el'Sekarna, come. Our master needs us.

The judicious gaze of the vrykul-like spirit glanced between them, seeing the renewed closeness, and huffed out a sigh. "And affections return in silence. How can mortal love compete with such an unnatural bond? No body language, pheromone, or animal cry is needed. Truly, I am... Demon, cease your actions at once!"

Lynona stopped her listless touching of Sin's torso to blink up at the guardian. "What?"

The Avatar's face was a thunderhead. "You are corrupting these sacred waters with your foul taint. Remove yourself from them immediately."

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, speechless. "What are- But I was just- How is this any different from before?" Even Sin felt lost, though he was ready to pull Lynona out of the pool if the Avatar demanded it. Around them, the other forest spirits were growing restless, louder, making sounds that threatened increasing hostility. Something was wrong.

"Lynona," he muttered, pulling on her wrist towards the slope out.

The Avatar answered in the same tone, explaining, "You are secreting your demonic essence into the fountain, defiling the waters with the fel corruption that burns inside you."

"Secreting my-? Oh, Darkness!" Despite herself, Lynona erupted with laughter, losing Sin's hold to bend sideways at the force of it. "Master-" she gasped, "Master, I- I-!" Her hearty chortle consumed her once more. "Jaedey's balls, this is too much!"

A moment of composure took her, where she explained gleefully, "Our blood is so potent and overused that it's easy to forget our other fluids have a faint taint. In this case, my- my-" She collapsed upon herself again, choking out barely, "Sploosh!"

Sin was torn between groaning or following her into laughter, but he did not forget the restless inhabitants of the forest around them. Face as straight as he could manage, he announced formally, "Please forgive her for this... oversight. I promise it was a harmless mistake."

"Just as well, she must remove herself from the fountain before its rejuvenating powers are lost to the dark flame."

"Dark flame!" Lynona guffawed. "Of the- Of the twisted nethers!"

Sin ignored the outburst, focused on resolving the matter before the Avatar could respond. "I can fix this! I can fix this. With your permission, I would like it if she could stay. In return, I will cleanse the fountain of her 'taint,' both during and after our use of it." Under the Avatar's dark gaze, Sin raised his hand and called the magic of the Twisting Nether out of the pool, watching thin wisps of fel greens and oozing purples twist from its surface and conjoin over his palm. He beckoned the magic towards Shed'lahk and let it feast upon the energies. "Is this acceptable?"

The Avatar's stare bore down on them for a long moment. She growled out, "It is a dangerous line you seek to tread down, warlock. The goddess would not accept this bargain." Her right hand made a fist, green sparks dripping from it, and the life that ringed the pool burst with new vibrancy. Sin hadn't noticed they had lost luster.

"I promise no harm will come of it, but whatever your demands, we will adhere to them," he told her, offering a slight bow.

A deep breath passed through her frame. "I have given you my trust before, Sin de Rath, and you have given me no reason to doubt you. More, the goddess favors you and accepts your methods. I will allow her to stay, but so will I remain in my vigil."

"I would expect nothing less. Thank you, truly, good Avatar."

The matter settled, the Lifewarden blew out a loud sigh and covered her face with a hand. "You are a pain in the ass, Sin."

"So I'm told. Often. For what it's worth, I am sorry for the troubles I cause."

"Words are no good." Her foot raised from the water. "Speak through actions."

A relieved laugh passed his lips, and Sin nodded, approaching to finish what he started and glad to see a small smile beneath her smoldering gaze. As he resumed washing off the dirt and grass, the Avatar hummed thoughtfully. "I did not believe it was possible to control the tainted magic directly, going so far as it purge its corruption from this arcane pool. You are a man of many curiosities, Sin de Rath."

"I can't claim all the fame," he admitted. "Two others- Well, one other has the same ability, discovered in our search to uproot the bastard god from the ley lines. The woman who mastered the trick first, she was claimed by the Worldslayers four days ago. Beautiful, clever, and adamantium hard. Her name was Ysanna."

"Do the dead haunt you, young one?"

Sin blinked, struck enough by the question to pause entirely. Twice, his tongue almost worked, but then he was shaking his head. "She's not dead. Taken. Stolen by the nothonium blade. Death is a mercy she was not given. In time, I will rectify that."

The Avatar watched him with wizened eyes. The silence was powerful, riddled with hidden judgment, and Sin found himself irked by it. "What have you done this war, Lifewarden?" Barely, he took the accusation out of his voice, keeping it an inquiry to distract them from the quiet.

"Hmph. I have learned from my previous mistakes against the Lich King. I have my senses open for possible cultists, and I have smothered each and every last one of them that sought to infiltrate the titans' land. With Freya's return, the burden of my duties has diminished greatly, but she has not yet returned me to her spirit. Thus, I fight. The vrykul form is good for it, I have realized."

Sin noticed her eyes narrow and turn behind him. "You leak as an animal in deep heat, succubus. Is this normal for your kind?"

Mischievous Lynona spread her hands out helplessly, her smile wide. "Only when my adored master is around – naked, aroused, his every thought sizzling with desire and primal lust. It's cute watching him pretend to ignore it while chatting with you."

"Yes, I am aware of Lady Har'koa's choice of gift," mused the giantess. "Indeed your mastery over it is commendable, Sin."

"It is by no means mastered," he disagreed evenly, carefully focused upon his task.

"You do not express your desire to mate to every female you meet. That is mastery enough for such a thing." She swiped her hand before him. "Please, cleanse this filth from the pool. It makes my skin crawl, allowing it to saturate this much."

"Finished," he settled and stepped back – into Lynona's waiting arms – where he obediently began to force the Nether magic out of the water and into hungry Shed'lahk. When he finished, the Avatar studied the pool critically, then shook her head in simple impress.

Pressed flush against his back, arms wrapped low around his middle, Lynona kissed and suckled a spot on his neck while asking in between, "Why don't you anchor a siphon to do it for you, beloved?" Her fangs grazed the bruised flesh, nibbling.

"If you know how to siphon raw Nether autonomously without a manaforge, be my guest."

"Then why don't you-" Her breath warmed his ear, moments before she nibbled. "-build a mini manaforge, be-love-ed?"

A slight shudder assailed him, but Sin kept himself statuesque through her sensations. "How thoroughly are you seeking to defile this pool, beloved?"

He could feel the vibrations of her throaty chuckle by their close contact. "Sekara is here. Between us, I believe it will be quite thorough." Sure enough, a lithe shape could be seen darting through the heavy canopy, descending upon them with singular, teal-eyed focus.

"We have company, beloved," Sin murmured pointedly.

"She can watch, or she can join us." Her long tongue dragged up the side of his neck, flicking by his ear at the finish. Sin's cloudy mind barely registered the way her encircling hands crawled downwards in small, curving presses of her palms, reminiscent of a serpent's body dragging over ground.

Sin remained perfectly motionless beneath her touch. "You are dangerous, devious, amoral, hedonistic, and... and... something else, I'm sure."

"Ravishing. Exotic. Sensuous. Erotic, maybe? What about perfect? Am I perfect, beloved?"

"Sometimes. Definitely sometimes." His last breath came out ragged. "Lo, Sekara. Can you stop her?"

"You can stop me yourself," Lynona said between playful bites. Her glowing eyes flicked downward, peering over his shoulder. "Ah, here we are. Hello, Master."

Sin trembled, responding finally with an upwards glance. "Sekara, will you please-" The qiraji's clothes were coming off, dropping onto the rock with his and Lynona's. His attention dropped to the unmistakable green face of the vrykul overseer, finding a raised eyebrow bearing down on him. His right leg twitched as Lynona did a thing. "G-Good Avatar, will you turn away for a moment?"

"Oh, don't mind him," Lynona called out, her chin still resting upon his shoulder. "It's just a little show of nature's oldest domination ritual." As her words finished, Sekara entered the pool with a small splash, then froze. In piecemeal brightness, the scarab conduits along her shoulders began to glow with amber light. Several watchful seconds later, Sekara advanced to the couple, reaching out to touch Sin's chest with her new hands.

At the contact, all the tension balling tightly in the center of Sin's back vanished. He slumped against his succubus backboard, his shoulders dropping reflexively.

"There it is," commented the observing Avatar.

Sin did not even notice, but Lynona quirked her brows, inquiring, "There's what?" Instinctively, she glanced downward to see if she had missed something.

"Your master lost control – or, rather, stopped fighting. I was wonder how much he could take." She began to stand in slow, careful motions.

Sin, formerly boneless in her arms, straightened and turned in the water. Lynona probed his mind and found it entirely blank, empty but for a mind-shattering pulse colored blood-engorged red. "Ah," she cooed and showed him a fanged smile when his brown eyes met hers.

"I'm supposed to be resting, beloved," her master said in a tone far too calm for what she felt in his mind. Sekara's copper-colored hands were touching along his darker skin, forgotten under his heavy attention.

"Oh, you are plenty rested, Master," Lynona purred. Her heart was dancing in her chest, faster and faster with anticipation. "You only need to stay in this pool as your mana recovers." She felt as though on the threshold of battle, staring a murderous foe in the eye as weapons were being drawn. Her body was already ready – always ready, for this man – but she could feel the eager tension coiling anew, awaiting the inevitable, and violent, response. "You will stay in this pool."

She laced it with challenge, the tipping point that removed the very last vestiges of self-restraint. Her beloved master responded.

Apart from them, the Avatar of Freya sighed softly to herself. Hoping at least one of them could hear her, she said, "I will contain the pool until Sin is able again to purge it." No one noticed. Another sigh passed her.

Mortals.

XxX

Nightfall marked a time of tranquility and conversation. Sin floated upon his back, still pool-bound and recovering his great mana stores, while his companions could be found in a variety of circumstances. Presently, Lynona was flaunting herself upon the lounging rock, instructing Sekara on the finer points of using those hands for massaging. The Lifewarden lurked nearby, consulting forest entities on the state of the Basin. Though Freya herself had assumed direct control of their defenses, the Avatar kept her vigilant place, acting as a second pair of eyes and ears.

Pleasantly sore and relaxed, Sin disturbed the girls on the rock by calling, "Sekara, I have questions for you."

"Sin?" the qiraji answered.

His eyes remained fixed upon the open night sky, seen through the dark branches and leaves of the sanctuary's canopy. Though he saw and appreciated, his attention was entirely elsewhere, buried under memory and speculation. "Yesterday, when we formed the Demon Soul, I saw the All-Mind."

"Yes. We became one. A weak bond. Incomplete."

"Right. In it though, I saw the other qiraji. All of them. I saw through them, as them, felt their heartbeat, knew their thoughts, even those a thousand miles east of us." With Narelle. "Before, you told me the eyes were the windows. We needed messengers to communicate. How could this be? What has changed?"

"Sekara is queen."

His lips pressed together, frowning at the sky. "What does that mean?"

It was some moments before her low voice rasped, "Sekara is Mother – but not. Sekara speaks. The Sisters listen. Sekara is Mother – but not."

Sin drifted atop the water, thinking. Her response was not cryptic, but the implications... "The Mothers could reach out psychically then, like the Fathers. Like C'Thun. That is what you mean. And now, you can too. That is what you are saying?"

"Sekara speaks."

"Are you becoming a Mother?"

"I do not know."

"Do you wish to be a Mother?"

"Yes."

Sin didn't respond, digesting the news in peaceful quiet. Lynona was less serene: "What? No. Hell no. Qiraji queens, Mothers, whatever the fuck, those are those gigantic wormy, egg-laying things, aren't they? The consort of my beloved master will not be some grotesque abomination, bloated and oozing fluids and just plain fucking disgusting. No!"

"Sekara is queen," answered the qiraji simply. Her voice raised a proud octave, "But I am more than Sekara."

"What is that supposed to mean?" pressed the succubus. She was sitting up now, accosting the slighter girl with her eyes.

Sin knew the answer, or at least suspected it, and the demon-qiraji must have heard, for she said nothing and let him speak: "Sekara is the body. "I," when she says it, means herself. Her conscious. Her individuality. The mind beneath the body. She, whom we know as Sekara, has taken over the All-Mind, over all the Battleguards. She is all the qiraji."

"Master, are you saying...?"

"Incomplete," interjected the lone qiraji. "I am the All-Mind. I am Sekara. I can be Nzeeka. I can be Soutine. I can be one Battleguard or many, but I am not all. Not now."

Lynona's surprise was all over her voice. "So you are saying you can turn any of the others into you? All of them at the same time? Why don't you?"

"The survival of a species depends on adaptation and variation. To homogenize completely introduces risk. A flaw in one is a flaw in all. We are family, not individual."

Sin inserted in the conversation, asking, "How complete is a take-over?"

"I can speak as Nzeeka. I can make Fire as Jeurabis. I can be Soutine. I can make Ashazsh queen."

"This is insane," said Lynona. "Like, in a good way, I think. Sekara-qiraji orgy when?"

A loud buzz filled Sin and Lynona's heads, a sign that Sekara was pleased. Sin was undeterred, noting calmly, "Only Sekara has the demon contract."

"Incomplete," rasped Sekara. "I have the contract. Only Sekara is demon. I cannot make the Sisters demon. Sin must convert the Sisters."

"Crap," he sighed. "If we fail tomorrow, you must tell Narelle to finish it. She must become your new master."

"If?" pressed Lynona sharply.

"Notsin is not Sin," commented Sekara neutrally.

Sin kept staring at the sky, not wishing to meet either gaze. "No, she is not. Will you follow her anyways?"

"Sekara does not wish to."

"Will you follow her anyways?"

"..."

"Sekara?"

The silence continued reluctantly, and then she said, "Sekara must die with you. Then Ashazsh will be queen. Ashazsh will follow Narelle Blackmoon."

"Who is Ashazsh? Some next-in-line princess or something?"

"You know her by her white clothes. She is strong, and she has already accepted Notsin as master."

"Against the All-Mind?"

"With the All-Mind. Ashazsh wishes for Sin and Notsin to become one."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," growled Lynona, falling back to the rock with an arm over her eyes.

Sekara watched her evenly. "Yes."

Sin felt there was something treacherous in the thought. Sekara, though usually always monotone, had something else lurking in her voice. He probed, "If Sekara dies tomorrow and I do not, will Ashazsh become the next queen?"

"No. I will choose Jeurabis. Ashazsh has much loyalty to Sin, but also much loyalty to Notsin. Heterogeneity is unacceptable."

"But I thought you took them over completely?" Lynona asked from her recline.

"Without the Sekara template, the new queen must be defined by what exists. Residual programming will remain, such as the loyalty I gave Ashazsh to Narelle Blackmoon in Sin's absence. I was prepared to be Jeurabis as I am Sekara, but if Sin wishes for the Sisters to follow Notsin, Jeurabis must not be as Sekara. Sekara will not accept Ashazsh as queen nor Notsin as master." She looked to the succubus. "Flaw."

"Wait, this is a problem, isn't it?" Sin asked, having finally turned to face them on the rock.

The naked qiraji shrugged her slender shoulders. "Only if Sekara dies. Sekara will not die."

"Your body isn't anchored to the Twisting Nether like mine is," Lynona argued. "You can die."

Sekara's black smile was a copy of Sin's usual. "I will not die."

Sin kept low in the pool, letting the rich and powerful tingle itch all over him as he watched the bold queen. Knowing his thoughts, she turned that smile upon him, challenging him with human arrogance. It resonated with him, and he found himself smiling back, even knowing the truth of tomorrow's fight.

A fight against a god – and his mother. Presently, he did not know which would be worse.

XxX

The solemn echo of footsteps against cold stone heralded the arrival of Sin de Rath. Though his shoes were soft, the soles were hard, tapping with reassured solidness as he advanced beneath the vaulted ceilings of the Nexus. Beneath that bold beat was the softer clop of cloven hooves, bearing the lithe creature beside him in a leonine sashay. At a measured pace farther behind was the steady drone of qiraji wings, supplying tenor to the procession, a march less human than it was ecclesiastical.

Skinblight sought to impede the monotonous arrival, coils of the ebon fleshstuff growing along the floor, walls, and hanging from above like jungle vines, yet with each approaching step, the strangling growth retreated and withered, sizzling in weak death throes as earthworms before the morning sun. Sin cut a path through the stranglehold of charcoal weeds with only his presence, trampling over the gardens of a god with callous footfalls. They were otherwise unopposed.

At the complex center, she waited for them. Her chamber was lined in black fire and purple flames, a passive demonstration left only as a statement that it was hers. There, upon the raised platform, Sin could make out a graven specter beginning to descend towards them once they crossed the burning threshold, her arms spread in greeting. Ever the aristocrat, their host had donned a magnificent teal gown that contorted perfectly to her every curve. The dancing light reflected off its shimmery surface as if sown of full emeralds and flawless opals, the finery complementing her dark skin so exquisitely that she needed no further trinket to stand out radiantly. To do otherwise would only be garish.

She was immaculate, her beauty shaming even the succubus beside him. Sin paused before her, showing outwardly and inwardly only respect, and bowed lower in her presence than he did before gods. Upon rising, he saw her teeth flashing in a wide smile, a look so familiar and welcome from her that he nearly moved to close around her a tight embrace. But while he hesitated, she did not, and Sin felt his heart shatter when her slender arms coiled below his and wrap him in a loving hold.

"My son," she beamed. Sin's escort moved to the sides, wary and cautious yet utterly ignored.

For a moment, Sin's throat felt closed by some arcane hand. Choking past it, he clutched this woman and managed to compose himself enough to say, "That dress is as lovely as you are, Mother."

Composure. There were no shadows in his mind, nor any in hers, but he did not forget himself. The face and image of Margaret de Rath was so burned upon his memory that he could not miss the changes. Though a woman of many lavish dresses, this was not her battle robes of teals and blues. The choker she wore buckled before her delicate throat was not Pale Tears collar often used to close the tops of her high-neckline robes. Worse, and most obvious, the precious gold eyes so known to him were absent. Gone. The windows to her soul had closed.

Seeing this, knowing this, Sin had beheld her smile and knew it was still she. His mother, whom he loved, who loved him. Emotion warred as he hugged her.

Beloved Master, said a gentle voice in his head. She is Sightless.

Hands clasped firmly on his upper arms, Margaret leaned back to behold him, her eyes still shut above that smile. "My beloved son, you have come so far since our last embrace. Here I see Lae'Parnona, returned to your side, and this must be the Sekara I have heard so much about. How are you, dears?"

A cold chill had crept through the bonds in Sin's head as Lynona remembered that Margaret knew her Name. Sin had not forgotten.

Clumsily, the demon bowed her horned head and answered, "Mistress Margaret, we are well enough. I suffer as your son suffers, but together we are strong."

"Yes, you are," beamed the Grand Warlock. "I feel that my son has not even returned the domination to your soul. That trust and love I share with my own Shuzlobell." Her face returned to him. "Oh, my son, my greatest Sin, how overjoyed I am to see you again."

"And I, you, Mother." He took a steadying breath, then requested, "Mother, return your eyes so I can see you in full."

Like a snapping rope, the atmosphere crashed around them, beginning with the tweak in her grand smile. "I'm afraid I cannot, my son. My eyes were freely given. Not even the magic of a soulstone can return them now."

An admonishing look settled over his face. Still with the tone of familiarity, still with her hands on him, Sin said, "How could you, Mother? Your eyes, pure and gold, were unique and precious on this world. How could you simply give them away?"

Her smile returned in full, and her head shook. "In some ways, you have not changed at all, Sin. But I have, as both you and I know. I will not deceive you, flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood, sin of my sin – not anymore. We meet on separate sides of a war."

Sin noticed the redundancy of her statement, blood and the elvish sin being the same word. "I suppose it is so, then. Is this when you ask me to join you and Ghat'Nothos?"

However, his mother only frowned in a worrying way, and the hands that held him settled upon her hips with womanly fury. "You, Sin de Rath, are old enough that you no longer need your mother to tell you what to do, but if you dare even attempt to defect to Ghat'Nothos, The Always Watching, I will stripe your backside from here to home and back!"

Sin blinked, which only tempted the matriarchal storm.

"Do not give me that boorish look, young man. If I thought you disposed to allying to the ruinous powers of the Great Dark Beyond, I would have bled you into the sands upon your birth, your father be damned. I am not here to twirl a villainous mustache and seduce you with promises of power. We are warlocks of the de'Rathi, who slay those that try. No, I am here for only one purpose, and that is to kill you if you try to advance one step closer."

Sin blinked again, then coughed in a desperate attempt to cover it up. Looking back, he stared for several seconds. "Mother," he started finally with squared shoulders. He deflated again. "What?"

"You heard me. I will not let you join the Beast just because I must work for it. I raised you better than that."

Beside him, Sin heard Lynona chuckle softly. She said, "Well, she's a de'Rathi, through-and-through."

Flabbergasted, Sin made a futile gesture and leaned against Shed'lahk. "But... Then you can't just expect me to stop here, Mother. I must enter the Seat of Magic."

Margaret nodded, her hair keeping perfectly brushed aside at the motion. "Yes, it is as you say, my son. I have no quarrel with you, but if you try, I will kill you."

"With- With all due respect, Mother, you aren't being reasonable."

She huffed. "It is exactly reasonable. Right now, you are presented with a choice. It is not an easy one, but I trust you are able to make the right one. You are a de'Rath, no less than I."

His jaw flexed. "Yes, yes. Flesh of your flesh, sin of your sin."

"And blood of my blood," she finished pointedly.

Redundancy. His mother was not a redundant speaker. "That is twice now," he commented evenly.

"I told you, I will no longer deceive you," she answered in the same tone.

Presented with two topics to pursue, Sin chose the one that mattered most: "How do I break Ghat's hold over you?"

"You can't."

"I can kill you."

"You can't."

Sin's stare was withering. "You know what I meant."

His mother smiled slightly. "I do, but it is true regardless. If I use the soulstone to die and return, its collar over me will remain."

"There is another way. There must be."

"There isn't. I have been left here for weeks now, doing nothing but consider the matter. The bonds that compel me cannot be beaten."

"Then why did you accept them?" Sin demanded wearily.

Her expression showed pain, even without eyes. "I'm only human, Sin. One woman against a god, with forty-six fresh deaths on my soul."

Sin's heart clenched. "Forty-six?" He needed no more explanation than that. No warlock did.

"I've told you before, my son, that I am not like you. Without Shed'lahk, or any staff, I do not have the combat power or prowess that you do. The paragons are ancient creatures immune to all I could muster in that state."

The tool in question burned in his hand. "You should never have given it to me."

Her eyeless face turned away, vaguely studying her hand as if unable to meet his gaze. "The fury I possess for my bondage has me wanting to agree, but my practical side knows that there is a worse future where I am still defeated and Shed'lahk is claimed by the Enemy. I have accepted this is a better trade."

"Now we must fight. How is this better?"

Her attention snapped back, an intense expression showing through. Had her eyes remained, they'd be bright gold. "You will advance?" she asked tightly.

Sin spread his hands, Shed'lahk clutched in his right. "I am a de'Rath. It is my duty to die trying."

"Worse things than death await you," his mother warned quietly. "Sin, my son, I will take everything from you. You will not die just once, as I will not. Your soul will be broken worse than mine, and I will be made to bring you before the Beast, just as I once was. You have grown so strong, my greatest Sin, but even you will not be able to stand before it, not in that state."

"Tell me, Mother, how do I defeat Ghat'Nothos?"

That proud, beautiful dark face of hers was marred sallow. In just a whisper, she said, "You must enter the Seat of Magic and remove it from the ley lines."

"Then, Mother," he addressed calmly. He took a step towards her. "I must advance."

Margaret stood still before him. "Beloved son, please take heed. I am the second human worthy of casting her eyes upon the Beast, and I was made greater still."

"Beloved mother, I am not afraid."

For the first time in his life, Sin saw his mother shake under straining emotion. He noticed only two quakes before the shadows came to her mind, wrapping around her, and he followed suit, resolving himself to raise his hand against his own precious blood.

"I am sorry, Sin," Margaret said finally, her voice cool and collected as he felt. Her right hand raised, and Sin felt Shed'lahk rip free of his grip with a triumphant roar, soaring through the air into her waiting palm. Dark power seemed to explode through her, felt though not seen under that incredible control, and she let the end tap against the stone floor of the Nexus. Like him, she allowed the theatrical thrum of begotten magic to rip outward, shaking him to his core.

Sin stood his ground before her, unarmed, also expecting the staff to be reclaimed by its rightful mistress. But she had promised to take everything from him. "Sa'eedrin Tardik Balish'nak Lae'Parnona, you will serve me," commanded Grand Warlock Margaret de Rath ex Dalaran.

Lynona cried out at the sudden pressure against her soul, vulnerable to the claim without Sin's domination. Her pale face whipped towards him, wild eyes shining with sudden tears, begging him to tell her what to do.

"Go," he told her with a reassuring smile.

"Be-Beloved," she choked out, reaching for him with her long-nailed hand at the same time her mind reached for his, torn by pain and love and guilt.

"I said go," he repeated. "Serve her well, beloved." They knew he could also call upon her Name and contest the challenge. Doing so would render Lynona either powerless in their conflict, break apart the conjuring that summoned her here, or, under high enough strain, it could rip her demonic soul in two, effectively killing her.

Sin let her go, watching her skulk behind Margaret with a bowed head.

With a single wave of Shed'lahk, Margaret summoned a coterie of demons around her, joining Lynona in their submission, while Sin was left alone with Sekara, the qiraji queen. Three felguards and two infernals gathered before their dark mistress, and the more intelligent ones looked between her and Sin with some confusion. He knew each of them by name, although not by Name, as they also knew him. Each was a worthy demon, mighty and strong; Lynona was kept not for defense but as another statement.

"Sekara," he said, watching only those who stood against him. "Wait outside."

"Master!" Lynona shouted, raising her tear-streaked face with a twisted heart, as the qiraji warrior hissed, "Siiin?"

Sin's attention did not waver, fixed upon his Sightless mother. "If you stay, you will be the first to die. Now go, Sekara." He heard the antsy flutter that was her indecision and faced her finally with a smile. "Remember what I told you about trust? Listen to me, you bug-brained fool." The affection was heavy in his voice.

With a tremble, Sekara bowed her sayaadi-horned head and turned to drift back outside the chamber.

"You can go with her, Sin," Margaret said from her place. Sin turned back. "If you leave the Nexus, I will return all that is yours and allow you to go. The Enemy knows better than to compel me beyond what it already has; its Avatar has died five times to my hand for trying."

He wondered if that was more an indication of the Avatar's strength or of hers without Shed'lahk. Regardless, he had known from the start that there were none who could stand beside him here. No one except Narelle Blackmoon, who had refused.

When Sin made no effort to leave, Margaret lowered Shed'lahk in a helpless gesture. "It seems that prophesy must finally come true. I had hoped... But no, this is only right. We must always finish what we start."

"Prophesy?" Sin asked with a quirk of his lip. "I like those. What has fate preordained for me, Mother?"

Her queer face, painfully familiar yet wrong with her eyes closed, like a sleepwalker or a skindancer, made no change as she murmured, "It does not matter now. I must fulfill my end."

Sin's mouth opened in retort, only to be silenced by his own memory, a woman's voice exclaiming, "My lady. My lady. My lady..." He paused, considering, then asked, "What does my name mean, Mother? What have you named me if not the Thalassian sin?"

Another voice, saying, "My son cannot be blamed wholly for what lays in my hands. His sin is my sin. The sin of my sin... Yes, that will be his name, his brand. It will seal the contract of his great and terrible purpose, and through it, he will learn to fight."

The Grand Warlock, centered in a ring of demons, made no immediate attempt to answer him. Her voice was reflective: "This is meant to be penance, you know. The Enemy sees the deaths of its brothers as children rising up against their makers, the givers of flesh. Fatherslayers, it calls us. I was chosen deliberately. Mother against son. Son against mother. It wants us to know the sin we have committed, to pay for it with our own blood."

"Mother."

Her attention jumped back on him, her face seeming startled. "I am sorry, Sin. I said I would take everything from you, but I cannot take away a mother's love."

"What is my name, Mother?"

Pain showed. "You are the Common Sin, a living testament of my sin, destined to one day return the Bane-Heart to Shed'Beshal and free the Beast unless I, your mother, slay you first. And should you take one more step forward, my dearest and most beloved son, that day will have finally come."

Sin raised his chin at proclamation. In the cool shroud of a shadow-wrapped mind, he stepped forward.


AN: This was a fun one – most things with Sin usually are – but not for the regular reason. I actually wrote the next chapter before this, then wrote this chapter beginning with him entering the Nexus and ending where it does. Realizing it was a bit short, and that there was more to be said in the Basin, I went and wrote the beginning stretch (and it does stretch) and stitched it to the Nexus part. It was curious though because both this chapter and the next chapter are equally good at ending Stage: Campaign. I almost wish they could be read simultaneously. Had this been the ending chapter, there would be one more sentence after "stepped forward." and it would read "And the world went to hell."

You won't know why until next chapter.

Now I'd like to talk about the fate of this story. It has been a long, long journey since I first skipped out on studying for my college finals to hammer out the twin prologues of this beast. My interest in Warcraft has waxed and waned, whole expansions have come and gone, and I've been nearly locked out of pursuing other linguistic interests, which is to say writing other stories. I squeezed some out here and there, but nothing of my usual length.

War of the Sightless Eye was always planned to be two stories, at equal length. At this point in time, I know that the second is impossible. I don't have the passion or patience or time for that. Presently, I don't have any plan or intention of abandoning WotSE, but the second story must, at this rate, be condensed into a concluding Stage if there is to be any chance of me completing this tale. While I'm not ecstatic about it, being forced to shrink the roles of characters like Genveera and Darnin and Ufrangsson, it has put an end stone in view that I know I can reach. So with Stage: Campaign ending next chapter, there will be one and then one more to complete the original WotSE, and then the extra Stage after that to complete the tale entirely. Each of these Stages will be shorter than what has come before. I hope.