Thanks for the replies from last chapter. Been looking into it a bit and for now I've decided to go with "shell" for another chapter. When i read about it both "chitin" and "cuticle" seemed to be part of the exoskeleton as cells or somesuch rather than skin. I'll have to look more into that.
Anyway here's the next chapter as I promised. Still not very happy about how it turned out but it's good enough i hope.
She was impressed to say the least. The paragon had moved with such grace despite the exhaustion from his wakening. Neither the swarmborn nor the bladesworn had even touched him as he had moved around. Even Kil'ruk had halted beside her for a second as the newly awakened paragon had spoken, but he had been quick to join the battle and eventually so had she.
Now she stood there, in the midst of what would've been called a massacre by the Alliance. Mantids lay sprawled over the ground, their red blood colored the tainted stone as well as her clothing and the shells and garments of the paragons. The stench of blood was thick around them. Under other circumstances it would've made her insides twist, but right now the adrenaline was still pumping and she didn't want to show weakness just yet.
Kil'ruk spun his swords one laps in his hands before sheathing them, turning to the other paragon. Wargana watched him warily before she too turned and found the newly awakened paragon on the brink of unconsciousness. His weak gaze looked up at her – he had pushed his limit too far. "You are... my Wakener?" Wargana nodded her answer and the paragon's gaze traveled to Kil'ruk. "You too... are a paragon... yes?"
"I am Kil'ruk the Wind-Reaver," Kil'ruk answered respectfully.
"Malik... the Unscathed," the paragon answered then he fell to his knees with a groan of pain and exhaustion, the weapon slipping out of his grip. "I am... weak."
"You overstrained yourself," Wargana carefully stated. She was uncertain of what she dared say. The wrong words could earn her more hits from Kil'ruk, maybe even from this Malik.
"Perhaps," was the unexpected answer as the Unscathed attempted to stand on his wobbling legs. For a moment he managed but soon lost his balance and would've fallen back to the ground had it not been for the Wind-Reaver catching him.
"You do not have the strength to fly on your own," Kil'ruk stated respectfully. "I will help you to Klaxxi'vess."
Gratefully Malik nodded as the slightly taller paragon brought his arm up. Kil'ruk steadied his brother by pulling the other's arm around his neck. Then he looked at the draenei with a dangerous warning in his eyes: he would hunt her down should she leave these tasks unfinished. "Do not forget the weapons, Wakener." With that they took to skies, soared a few moments above the ground before making their way back to Klaxxi'vess.
Wargana let out a breath and felt her body relax somewhat as she watched them leave. How did she end up in this mess? It was bad enough to have been given the task to investigate the Sha's whereabouts – she was always reluctant to face the manifestation of negative emotions – but to slave under mantids was completely different.
Gathering herself she drew another deep breath as she attempted to focus on the tasks given to her. Picking up the weapon of which Malik had wielded she examined it as her thoughts trailed off. She hadn't thought about it at first – she had been too occupied with the task to think about it – but Malik was a paragon, just as Kil'ruk. Did this mean there were more of them? Kil'ruk had mentioned something about him being from an era long past. Was Malik from another time then? What did being a "paragon" mean?
Lowering the weapon she decided its shape was good enough and moved to the next. Those questions were for later. If she was lucky perhaps Malik could provide her with some answers. He didn't seem as hostile as Kil'ruk, but then again he had just awoken.
The weapons she collected were heavy, and large for that matter. The mantid warriors were almost twice as tall as her after all, making their claymores and spears about her length. It was at times like these she was happy to be a mage and an experienced one. Years ago she had learned that the spell academic mages had grown to call the slow fall spell could be used for more than just slowing the fall: in fact it manipulates the weight of the target and thus, with enough practice, it could be used to make objects lighter.
But despite that knowledge she also knew how much of her it required and decided not to use it until she had collected enough … How many that was she didn't know.
Moving to the fourth one, a claymore, she dragged the other three behind her. A sudden unnatural yet familiar sensation of fear made her quiver and stop. As she gazed to the side her gaze fell upon a blinding white crystal.
She recognized it as some kind of tool the clutch-keepers had been using in their attempts to pollute Malik. As she stood there, staring at it, she could see tendrils of black smoke swirling in the center, reaching far in the white, as if trying to engulf it. Engulf the light with its unnatural power. Engulf the light of the world, the hope which drove soldiers in a hopeless battle. Engulf the hope of life, of living.
Tearing her gaze from it she panted. Her heart was racing and she realized she had almost lost herself in her fears. Don't lose it, she told herself. Don't lose focus. Don't lose control. Just don't.
All she wanted was to destroy that wretched thing where it lay. But with that she had proof that the Sha of Fear really did exist in the Dread Wastes, or at least had been there. Not that Wolgar would need more proof than her word for it, but Taran Zhu might not be so easily convinced. Furthermore this crystal could prove to be valuable for research.
Wargana took a deep breath in an attempt to muster courage enough to bring the foul thing with her. She didn't want to touch it. No, that would surely make her lose herself. So what would she do? It was possible for her to use her magic but that would require a lot of concentration. Could she afford that? Well, she didn't seem to have much of a choice.
With a heavy sigh she went to collect the forth weapon then decided to pick one more in case. Laying the items in front of her she watched them as she prepared herself. Starting off with the weapons she enchanted them before picking them up. With an anxious gaze at the crystal she hesitated but finally focused her energies to carry it, praying to the Naaru that no creature would get the idea of attacking her.
For once luck was on her side. Her trip back to Klaxxi'vess was without any interference, and for that she thanked the Naaru in her thoughts.
The guards soaring by the entrance to the sanctuary watched her warily as she made her way in. One of them was close to stopping her but decided to simply follow her, she noticed. Gazes were drawn to her as she came into view; drones stared in dismay and disgust before they took a reassuring step away from her, gazes of suspicion and hostility came from the guards and then there was the gaze from the ambersmith and the "tower maintainer", as he was supposed to be. The ambersmith only looked at her for but a moment, as to acknowledge that she was back, then his gaze went to stare at the crystal her energies carried. The tower maintainer… she couldn't quite read his expression more than his eyes narrowing slightly, his mouthparts clicking and antennas twitching.
She had barely reached the smith before he exclaimed, "Do you have any idea what this is?!" Without hesitation he almost ran up to the crystal, tearing it from her magical grip, making her concentration snap completely, which resulted in her dropping three of the five weapons as their full weight surprised her. However he didn't seem to bother; he was too occupied with the crystal. But only a mere moment before he had taken it he dropped it, and she thought she knew the reason.
"It's amber," he stated, staring down at it. "But it is polluted with fear." For a moment he only stood there, looking down at it, before he remembered that she was still there. "I would not expect an outsider like you to understand the consequences of this," he spat in that disliking tone he had had when he first spoke to her. His eyes darted to the weapons and he nodded quietly as he seemed to count them. "It all goes as planned," he murmured before giving her a narrowed gaze. "Do not think you have a place in this plan, outsider. Now be gone!"
Without a word Wargana obeyed, leaving the ambersmith to his work as she backed away, silently cursing him for taking the crystal from her. What would she do now?
Her neck was roughly caught and before she could turn to see who it was she was forced to move towards the northern side of the sanctum. There she was tossed to the ground making her cough from the harshness. She could hear the clicking of mantids' as they spoke to one another before the first hit came.
Malik drew a deep breath as he stood at his full length feeling every single muscle respond to his every thought. He was renewed. Though late the restoration sap did its work well and he felt his entire body growing stronger.
When he had arrived with his fellow paragon the sap had been ready for him. The Wind-Reaver had left him to report to the Klaxxi, the exact same thing that Malik now moved to do. In fact he crossed path with the slightly taller paragon on his way there as the other seemed to have gotten new orders. A nod was all they exchanged as they passed each other.
Malik took in the sight of Klaxxi'vess. It wasn't much unlike the one from his time; in fact the only thing that was different apart from the faces was the Krypari tree under which they were finding themselves. In his days it had been… healthier, however the circumstances spoke for themselves and it came as no surprise that the entire land was unhealthy.
The council was the same as ever where they stood tall and proud as they whispered into the sonar tower, seeing, hearing all over the land. The larger one of them turned from the tower as he approached.
The Unscathed knew this one; his name was Vor, Klaxxi'va Vor. He had been one of the Klaxxi even in Malik's time. However he had not been the high klaxxi'va back then.
"Malik the Unscathed," Klaxxi'va Vor greeted as Malik stood before him. "Never a glancing blow laid upon you, but countless foes cut down by your halberd."
"And countless more to come, Klaxxi'va," Malik retorted as he slightly bowed his head in respect. "It is my honor to serve in our time of need."
"And serve you shall," answered the Klaxxi'va. "Arm yourself at the quartermaster. The drones here are at your disposal."
"Right away, Klaxxi'va." He raised his head and as he turned he caught a glimpse of his strange Wakener as she entered the sanctum carrying the swords from their fallen enemies with a mysterious white crystal floating behind her on some kind of thin, mist-like, purple cloud. It seemed somehow familiar to him yet foreign. The sensation it emitted made his breath slow.
Tearing his gaze from it he instead locked his gaze on the blue, horned creature. Though one of the lesser beings he could see potential in her. After all she did not only free him but also stood her ground against a swarm of newborn. Of course the Wind-Reaver had been by her side but he still found her a good combatant. Even if he didn't approve of her art of war he did find himself interested in the strange magic she wielded. "The soft one should serve well," he spoke as he made his way to the quartermaster right beside the ambersmith.
While he carefully picked his weapon he overheard the one-way conversation the smith was having with the Wakener. Amber polluted by fear? That was bad news indeed. And what's worse, according to the Klaxxi this fear had spread throughout the land and was now threatening to take them all. On top of that the Empress seemed to have lost her senses. This was a critical time and Malik feared for the unspeakable horrors that could lay before them. Yes, he had seen them himself in the nightmares that interrupted his sleep. Their land burning, their society tossed into an all-out war with the lesser beings and their new allies, the Klaxxi stung from the palace walls and he and his paragon brethren devoured by fear.
But despite all that was transpiring around him, all that he had seen in his dreams he couldn't take his mind off his peculiar Wakener. Why had the Klaxxi chosen someone like her for the task? Why now in their moment of crisis?
His fingers traced the handle of a halberd of fine amber. It was with a weapon like this in hand that he had been recognized as a paragon. To wield one now was a choice he didn't need to think twice about. As he took the weapon in his hand he noticed a couple of guards moving to the Wakener as she backed away from the smith.
Pretending as though he never noticed them Malik continued to examine his weapon of choice as the guards brought the blue creature to a less populated area of the sanctuary. There they stopped, throwing the horned creature on the ground before starting to beat her.
Malik watched in secret from where he stood, not because of concern but because of interest. How capable was this thing of taking damage? How much could she take? How would she react? He was a tactician and needed to take everything in consideration. His interest for her was merely the first of many steps before he decided whether or not she truly was of any use.
"She's weak," the Wind-Reaver commented bluntly as he appeared into the Unscathed's view.
"Yes, but I see potential." The Wind-Reaver was a warrior with no concern for the obvious weak, that much Malik knew. He didn't see potential, he only saw the immediate strength. And there seemed to be something of personal matter driving the ever-present hate in his gaze.
"Potential in dying, perhaps," the Wind-Reaver retorted humorless.
"I suppose you did not ask them to do that."
Kil'ruk snorted. "I would've rather done it myself."
Malik mused. The Wind-Reaver was a paragon, just as him. Which meant he too had a Wakener. But who would that be? Malik hadn't seen Kil'ruk around any of the Klaxxi'vas for any longer periods of time, only enough to receive new tasks or to report. Though the Unscathed hadn't been there long enough to tell which one of the Klaxxi'vas would be the Wind-Reaver's wakener he had a feeling none of them were.
"Who's your Wakener?" Malik asked.
"Why would you like to know?" the Wind-Reaver answered with a hint of hostility in both his turning gaze and rasping voice.
"Is the lesser one yours too?" It would explain the answer and why the Wind-Reaver had been around for Malik's awakening. Yes, it all made sense. All but one thing; why a lesser being? And why a female?
When the Wind-Reaver simply turned and flew off Malik's guess was confirmed and he also got a hint of how the warrior felt about it. Frustration, that was what he felt. Perhaps it would serve him well in his upcoming tasks.
Malik took one last glance towards his beaten Wakener – she was alive, but her soft skin had gotten all bumpy and broken in several places with red, thick blood running down her face. He could work with that weakness. Next he would have to explore her knowledge of weaponry. But for now that would have to wait; the Wakener had some recovering to do and he had his duties.
With that malik spread his wings and took to the skies with his new halberd resting in his experienced hand.