I'm very sorry for the late update and for this chapter being on the shorter end. Depending on my progress with writing, I may update again in the next couple days. Thanks! Enjoy!
"And this one is supple?"
"It's constructed of arcanite. There's hardly a metal on Azeroth that's more malleable yet substantial. It's heat treated over the course of several days and tempered for a soft back yet extremely strong edge. The blade will follow him through his training."
Nodding at Bemarrin, the middle aged blacksmith standing beside an anvil, Tharsis turned his attention to Deimos. Gripping the hilt of the long sword, the young paladin expertly inspected the dull gray blade, his fingertips vigilantly running down the length. Satisfied at the lack of dents or cavities, the smooth metal tickling his skin, he clutched the handle with both hands tightly. Testing the weight of the weapon, he was slightly surprised with the lightweight sword; his arms conditioned to bear majestic yet heavy blades. While he was somewhat thrilled and excited at the notion of getting a new weapon, Deimos was still annoyed at the events that transpired only hours prior. A week had passed since his attempted capture, the time mostly being taken up with mental drills and exercises. Though he enjoyed the change in routine, the paladin became restless and edgy; the lack of physical fitness making him impatient. Only commencing their usual drills a day ago, Deimos was elated to use his pent up energy; a vigor that carried over the following day. Slashing and thrusting his sword against his father with renewed force and drive, both Ares'mars were surprised and stunned when his blade snapped in two. Frustrated at the situation, the young elf missed his father's amused stare shortly after it happened.
Sparing a quick glance at the pieces of what used to be his sword resting on the anvil, Deimos gave a deep sigh. "It'll need to be enchanted."
Lifting a brow at the quiet voice, Tharsis easily detected the remnants of his son's lingering frustration. "Of course, Deimos. But is it to your liking?"
Sighing again while he eyed his beloved broken weapon once more, the paladin glanced down at the long sword in his grip. It was an imposing and intimidating weapon; constructed of finer materials and jewels than his old sword. However, the texture of the hilt felt foreign, the shape of the blade unfamiliar. Readjusting his grip, the young elf offered the watching commander a small nod. "It's a remarkably built sword. I'm surprised at how light it is." Pausing to meet Bemarrin's questioning yet intense gaze, he gave a small shake of his head. "You're sure there's no way you can repair my old blade?"
Breaking his stare from the young elf, the blacksmith gazed at the broken weapon resting on his anvil, the sunlight glimmering off its polished yet abused surface. "I'm sorry, Deimos. Because of the materials it was made out of it, I can't repair it. While I can reconstruct another, I highly suggest upgrading your weapon. It's apparent you're progressing too rapidly for that sword." Gesturing to the weapon in the paladin's hands, the blacksmith shifted his weight impatiently from one foot to the other. "This here is a fine blade for you. You won't have to concern yourself with needing a new weapon soon; it'll suffice for years."
Sending his eyes back down to the impressive blade, Deimos nodded at the blacksmith's words while placing the sword on a rack. "You're right."
"Good," Tharsis replied impatiently, turning his attention from his still sulking son to the blacksmith. "How long will it take to forge?"
Eyes' squinting in thought while he eyed the blade, Bemarrin was silent for several beats. "I can have it ready by the end of next week. Will you need a replacement until then?"
Giving a small shake of his head, Deimos crossed his arms over his chest. The feeling of receiving a newly built weapon was thrilling, yet he still couldn't hide his dissatisfaction of losing his old blade. "I've got a couple spares at home that'll work."
"Ok. I'll send word when the sword is finished."
The two Ares'mars politely thanked the blacksmith, Deimos sending one last glance at what remained of his sword, before turning to leave. Moving through Farstrider Square, the day slowly ending with the sun three quarters across the sky, Deimos felt empty and naked without the security and familiarity of the heavy weapon strapped to his back. Sending his hand to check the fasten that would hold the sword, he was disheartened to find the spot empty.
"You have enough swords at home that'll make due until your new weapon is made."
The two stopping near the street as they watched a group of four elves dressed in civilian clothing exchange unpleasant and loud words with each other, Deimos gave a small sigh at his father. Keeping his eyes trained on the angered group, whom were drawing attention from the passing citizens, he shook his head. "I know. And I know the new sword is a major upgrade from what I used to have. But I liked my old blade; I was used to it."
Cocking his head to the side while one of the elves' elevated his roaring voice, several words reached Tharsis' pointed ears causing him unease and discomfort. Though he could only pick up on small parts of the elf's speech, what he did hear made his body shift nervously. Glancing to the side at his son, the commander briefly considered fleeing the area; the impending fate for the arguing elves apparent. "We should go."
His words came a second belated; the apparition of two Magisters beside the quarrelling elves made his heart sink in his chest. A seasoned warrior and soldier, Tharsis had enough life experience to understand the authoritarian and controlling grasp the Magisters had on the citizens of Silvermoon. The arcane guardians were programmed to eliminate any and all speeches or inclinations of rebellion, with the use of whatever possible means. Though most of the cities inhabitants were oblivious and naïve to the lies and oppression of the government, those well traveled knew the truths. Hearing a nearly inaudible and brisk gasp beside him, Tharsis was quick to grasp Deimos' bicep roughly as the shorter elf took a step forward. Though his son had admirable intentions, he knew they would be in vain; the group of elves were a lost cause.
"Deimos," Tharsis began in a whisper, forcefully pulling the unyielding paladin back. "There's no helping them. You'd only be mind wiped as well."
Watching in dismay and revulsion as one of the Magisters began the invasive procedure on the four elves, Deimos pursed his lips in anger. Though he loved his city full-heartedly, he longed for the freedom and independence to exercise free speech and choice without the fear of being reprimanded. While he never had the process completed on himself, it was no secret that the whole ordeal was painful, humiliating, and intrusive. Sending his eyes to the side in rage and disgust as the four elves entered a dazed state, their eyes half lidded and their weight swaying on their feet, the young elf shook his head in discontent. "It's not right."
Opening his mouth to reply to the upset paladin, Tharsis was interrupted by two presences sauntering up beside him. Surprised at the two new elves, the commander was greeted with a wide and giddy smiling Rommath, his son bearing a similar expression on his sneering face. Sparing a quick glance at the group of elves that were reciting a line of speech predetermined by the Magister that completed the procedure, Tharsis turned his attention back to the Grand Magister with a respectful incline of his head. "What brings you to the military district?"
His smile growing in size at the gruff voice, the Grand Magister gave a tilt of his head at the dazed and bemused elves in the distance with a chuckle. "Allowing Elik to gain applicable experience. Though once he goes to Stormwind for his apprenticeship this summer, he won't be able to observe this aspect of being a Magister."
"No, in Stormwind they actually allow freedom of expression and individual thoughts."
Snapping his head towards the quiet yet furious voice, Tharsis nervously eyed Deimos' cold face; his angered and fierce gaze trained on the Grand Magister. Shocked and alarmed at the younger elf's outburst, the commander was at a loss of words for his son's behavior. By all means, the boy had given the Magister more than sufficient grounds to mind wipe him, though the procedure wasn't typically reserved for minor elves. Rather, the parents were held responsible and accountable for their offspring's lack of respect and mutinous attitudes. Glancing back at Rommath, Tharsis wasn't surprised to see his face riddled with anger and rage, accomanpied with a glint of dark curiosity that made his stomach flip.
"Deimos-"
Lifting a hand to shush the commander's words, Rommath took a threatening step towards the paladin, who continued to maintain his intense and unwavering stare. "Quiet, Ares'mar. I see your son has spent far too much time in that human city. Perhaps a visit to the Sunfury Spire will change his mind from such radical thoughts. What do you think, Deimos?"
Narrowing his eyes at the older elf's attempt to hold an intimidating stare, the paladin shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Sparing a quick glance at his father, Deimos was rewarded with meeting nervous and anxious eyes boring into him. The gravity and seriousness of the situation slowly seeping into his being, he turned his eyes back to the Grand Magister waiting patiently for a response with a cynical smile.
Heaving a defeated sigh, Deimos sent his eyes down to the flagstone in an effort to conceal his frustration. "My apologies, Grand Magister. You're right; I've been away from Silvermoon for too long. It seems I've forgotten my place." Pausing to glance up at Rommath, who was watching him with a severe and scrutinizing gaze, Deimos didn't allow his intense stare to waver as a small smile spread across his face. "I'm sure Elik will be most impressed with the Royal Library in the Keep at Stormwind; it has a lot more literature than our collections here in the city. There was one author Commander Steele had me read; it really made me think: 'Choice is not worth having if it does not connote freedom to err. It passes my comprehension how human beings, be they ever so experienced and able, can delight in depriving other human beings of that precious right. '"
"Funny, the author is only referring to humans."
Ignoring Elik's laughing comment, the paladin continued to hold the forceful look with the Grand Magister, whose face slowly began to erupt in redness from resentment. Giving a small smirk, Deimos shifted his weight to his other foot. "I wanted to continue reading the author's work but it seems his pieces aren't in our libraries. Strange. Once the orbs are finished, I'll have to bring some of his books to the city."
Pushing a long ebony lock of hair behind his ear, Rommath glared down at the younger elf. "Don't test me, Ares'mar. Though Lor'themar and Brightwing have a soft spot for you, I'll lose no sleep at night after ordering your mind wipe, or worse. It'd be a pity to see one so young and eager reduced to nothing." Sparing a quick glimpse at Tharsis, who shifted nervously at his words, Rommath chuckled darkly at Deimos. "Consider yourself lucky that I'm in such high spirits today; I won't give you another warning, paladin."
Feeling a heavy hand rest on his shoulder, Deimos didn't have to turn to know Tharsis was relaying a silent plead to surrender. Though he was tempted to continue the defiance and rebellious manner towards the Magister, his father's touch swiftly quelled all notions of abiding the argument. Already skirting and flirting with a fine line of adversity, the young elf knew he was fortunate to walk away with his mind and thoughts still intact. He had voiced views and words the citizens of the city only dreamed of expressing. Nodding in shameful submission, Deimos allowed his head to obediently tilt downwards in a sign of yielding to the older elf. "I'm sorry, I was out of line. I'm still tired from the attack a week ago."
Narrowing his eyes at the poorly conjured excuse, Rommath chose to end the battle. His gaze roaming the compliant elf in front of him, he knew it wouldn't be the last time he'd be in the situation. Lacking the formal and structured education young elves underwent, Deimos was one to voice his concerns and opinions; usually forgetting the consequences. Never one to dance the diplomatic conversation tactics, Rommath usually sought out the young Ares'mar when in need of dire information pertaining to a report or aspect of a campaign that Tharsis was unyielding to divulge in. Though he acted valiant, bold, and intimidating, the Grand Magister knew the paladin's weaknesses; his dread of disappointing his father and fear of the invasive procedure.
"Rommath," Tharsis began, his nervousness at the situation slowly ebbing away with Deimos' retreat. "In lieu of… recent activity, I was hoping to discuss certain events with you. It seems we may need more of the Magisters support than previously thought."
Brows together in thought, the Grand Magister gave a brisk nod of his head. Turning his gaze towards his son waiting patiently at his side, Rommath gave a small head tilt. "Elik, why don't you take Deimos back with you to your study group? I think he's in need of some formal educating."
The question was resolute and unwavering; Elik nodding obediently while allowing a sneer to dance across his features at the small jab towards the paladin. Allowing a quick side glance to the right, the younger Rommath was rewarded with a dark and annoyed look from Deimos; only fueling the grin on his face.
Promptly ignoring the silent insult directed at him, Tharsis bottled up and tucked away the anger and annoyance with the Grand Magister; a practice he was all too familiar and comfortable with. Resting his gaze on his son, taking in his fidgeting stance and flustered cheeks, the older Ares'mar was acutely aware that the paladin wasn't at ease with his repent. Though he disciplined Deimos to always demonstrate the utmost care and manners when in the presence of a Magister, he also knew that due to the younger elf's traveled upbringings, accepting the domineering rule would be trying. His eyes roaming Deimos' face, Tharsis tilted his head ever so slightly in thought. Perhaps time with elves his age would be best for him… "Go with Elik, Deimos. Be home by 1700, understood?"
The barking order pulled the young paladin from his reverie; his gaze meeting Tharsis'. His spirits dampened with the mere prospects of being forced to endure the presence of his age group, Deimos knew the unfaltering look from his father would be unforgiving. A quick nod of his head to the older Ares'mar was all the paladin did to answer; nothing else was needed. The task wasn't directed at the young elf from a paternal figure but rather an issued order from a Commander. He would be forced to heed it.
Watching with interest, and hidden hilarity as Deimos tried in vain to conceal his disappointment and aggravation with the situation, Tharsis was sure to keep his face void and straight. Allowing his gaze to linger on the younger elf while he turned away to follow Elik, Tharsis shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The two younger elves walking side by side, had he been a stranger to the two, would have seemed casual and nothing out of the ordinary. They're youthful yet eager faces would demonstrate their young ages, the arrogant bounce to their steps only reaffirming it. However, knowing the attitudes and demeanor the two elves held for each other made the scene seem out of place for Tharsis. Usually bickering and passing flaccid retorts to each other, observing them stroll through the city side by side seemed odd and peculiar. Tearing his gaze away from the duo when they turned a corner, Tharsis was quick to change gears. Sending his eyes to the waiting Grand Magister, the Commander immediately quelled any other thoughts dominating his mind to solely focus on the task at hand. The slaving situation in the Sin'dorei capital had to be resolved and dealt with immediately; the memories from the attack a week prior still all too fresh in his mind.
"Where's your study group?"
"Sunstrider Isle."
"Why are we going this way?"
Glancing around himself, Deimos took in the serene atmosphere the Court of the Sun offered to its inhabitants. The rushing waters from the immense fountain resting in the center of the district emitted relaxing and soothing noises. Ornately dressed nobles and aristocrats mixed with Magisters and lieutenants, the sun glistening off the well polished and sharpened weapons hanging on their hips. Though the ambiance wasn't any bit unusual for the paladin, having grown up in the district, he was perplexed as to the reason for their presence.
Sighing impatiently with bother at the question, Elik sent a quick look at the elf easily keeping pace beside him. "I have to make a stop along the way. Listen, I don't want to be anywhere near you any more than you want to be near me. Why don't you just make both our lives easier, and go home or something?"
Narrowing his eyes in aggravation at the young mages words, Deimos allowed a small sigh to slip past his lips. "I was given an order. With my luck, he'd send an arcane guardian just to make sure I complied."
A dark and throaty laugh from Elik only infused the paladin all the more, his sneering voice adding to the anger. "And you always follow daddy's orders. Such a good little soldier."
Pursing his lips in anger as he felt his blood boil at the words, Deimos opened and closed his hands in an attempt to subdue the urge to engage the lanky mage in an altercation. "I didn't see you voice your discomfort to your father, either."
"Of course I wouldn't right in front of him." Puffing a lungful of air in disbelief, Elik glanced at the paladin in incredulity. "Are you really that dense when it comes to besting your father?"
Lifting a brow part in annoyance at the tone and part in curiosity, Deimos crossed his arms over his chest. "You lie to yours then?"
Elik toseed his head back to laugh while he sidestepped an arcane guardian giving a patron directions. "Lie? It's more like I let him hear what he wants to hear – then I do my own thing. As long as he believes I actually listened to him, it doesn't really matter what I do."
"Maybe it works for your father, but it definitely wouldn't work for mine. I'd end up with a long lecture and extra training hours."
Rolling his eyes at the paladin, Elik pulled the cloak protecting his frame from the bitter wind tighter. "Tharsis does have you trained as his little pet."
Opening his mouth to reply with a retort, unable to withstand the mages' scoffing comments any longer, Deimos took note of their surroundings. Stopping to a standstill abruptly, the paladin took in the shabby and worn buildings they were fast approaching as they were about to leave the Court of the Sun and enter Murder Row.
"Elik, wait."
Sighing dramatically, the young mage turned around with greater annoyance at the paladin. "What now, Ares'mar?"
Opening and closing his mouth, Deimos allowed his gaze to roam over the darkened and daunting atmosphere the upcoming district offered him. Noticing the uncannily barren streets that lay ahead of him, void of even an arcane guardian or patrol, the paladin felt his mind warp into unease. His father's firm and strong voice resonating through his head, Deimos knew the seedy district was forbidden for him. Glancing back at Elik's impatient and edgy features, his arms defiantly crossed over his chest in a mocking way, Deimos heaved a deep sigh. Grudgingly forcing his feet to move from their planted positions, the paladin was finally able to find his voice. "N-Nothing."
Sighing again, the mage turned back around to commence his walking towards his ultimate destination. "Good. I've got to stop at The Sanctum to grab a couple books."
Moving into the threatening and eerie district, Deimos subconsciously ran his hand cross his back only to remember he was without a sword. Silently berating himself at the vulnerable position he was in, he felt his senses heighten to compensate for the loss. Glancing to his sides every so often, the paladin took in the deserted avenues, the ragged and torn fabric hanging across the streets, and the screaming silence that filled the space. Watching the back of Elik, who walked slightly ahead of Deimos, the paladin was taken aback by the ease and comfort the mage had when sauntering through the district.
"The Sanctum? What do you want there?" The Sanctum, though well known throughout Silvermoon City, carried a less than caliber reputation amongst the citizens. Housing the warlock guild, as well as trainers and apprentices, the area was usually seen as distrusting and suspicious. The Sin'dorei viewed demons in disgust and repulsion; a warlock unintentionally obtaining a similar reputation.
A deep sigh emitting itself from deep in his throat, Elik gave a strong shake of his head while he glanced over his shoulder at the paladin. "Just a book."
Narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the mage, Deimos was prepared to initiate an interrogation regarding Elik's activities. Though he could care less about him, the paladin couldn't quell his curiosity surrounding the situation. Any information against the young Rommath was deemed important and necessary. However, his inquisitive nature was immediately overcome with defense and guard when movement to the right side of him caught his eye. Immediately stopping in his tracks, the paladin whipped his head to the side, allowing his senses to overcome him. His eyes roaming the area where the movement once was, he was greeted with a barren and desolate alleyway. The dark and sinister passage put the paladin in unease and discomfort, his eyes darting around his surroundings in a defensive manner. Not picking up on even the slightest of movements in the shadows or corners, Deimos heard a pair of familiar footsteps approach him from behind.
"Seriously, Ares'mar? Are we going to stop every five minutes?"
Tearing his gaze away from the murky alley to glance at Elik's impatient face, Deimos felt his voice and gulp of air become strangled in his throat. Standing paces behind Elik's keen figure was a male undead. Widening his eyes in surprise and alarm at meeting the dead human's gaze, the paladin was put at even more disturbed when the figure mysteriously disappeared into the shadows that surrounded itself. His eyes roaming the area for any sign of movement or indication for an attack, Deimos was well aware of the ominous situation they were in.
Looking back into Elik's intolerant expression, the paladin gripped his wrist. "We have to leave now."
His face contorting into immense confusion and anger at the clutch on his appendage, the young mage pulled away from the other elf. "We're not leaving until-"
"Elik! We're not safe here."
Struggling to keep his voice from wavering, Deimos had had enough. Turning on his feet to leave the district from where they had entered from, Elik in tow, he felt his heart plummet into his stomach and his blood freeze in his veins. Standing where they had come from were two humans, both watching them with paramount interest and desire. His eyes examining and roaming the humans in front of him while he felt the tugging from the mage, the paladin took in the sharpened daggers dripping with poisons on each of their belts and the thick leather armor adorning their chests. His eyes resting on a tattered piece of fabric wrapped around the upper arm of both humans, Deimos' adrenaline increased tremendously at the Trade Coalition emblem.
The tugging coming to a standstill, the paladin hesitantly turned around to glance at Elik and lose eye contact with the humans. Unarmed and unable to defend himself, he knew the alarms sounding in his head were for good reason. Glancing back at the young mage, Deimos only realized his mistake of taking his eyes off his enemies too late. Feeling the exchange of air from behind him, he swiftly threw the frightened and shocked Elik to the side without care, himself rolling out of the attack with ease. Quickly allocating more attentional resources to his hearing in hopes of avoiding another attack, Deimos looked around himself from his position on the toned street. Expecting to see the humans looming over him or Elik, the young elf was instead greeted with the familiar desolate and silent district. Darting his eyes around in an alarming fashion, he allowed his gaze to linger longer on the shadows. They're playing with us.
Huffing and puffing beside Deimos pulled his attention away from his inspection. Pulling himself to his feet in fear and distress, Elik stared wide eyed at Deimos; as if waiting for the elf to offer an explanation or word that the situation was defused. Instead, he was met with the paladin's own alarmed face. "Deimos! What in the Light was that?"
Picking himself up from the ground, his gaze looking around for any sign of an impending attack, Deimos turned his attention back to Elik. About to open his mouth to reply, the paladin was taken aback by the mages eyes widening more than they already were, his fair complexion draining the blood in pure fear. Whipping his head around to inspect what spooked the mage, expecting to see either the humans or undead with a dagger drawn, Deimos was instead met with an empty street. Brows together in confusion, the paladin turned back to Elik only to see his retreating form. Sprinting full speed into the darkened alley away from Deimos, the paladin was both surprised and terrified.
"Elik! Wait!"
The young mage, however, wasn't heeding to the request. His movements and thoughts were dominated by one emotion ruling over the others; fear. Whatever the young elf had seen had petrified him down to his core. Growling in frustration at the diminishing elf, Deimos spared a quick glance around himself before running after Elik. Watching the mage's swift body disappear around a corner to the left, the paladin tried in vain to increase his pace in hopes of catching up with him. Though he was better conditioned from years of training and practicing, Elik had allowed his fear to control his body. Only sparing several glances to his side, Deimos assumed their intruders were close by; only fueling his desire to leave the district.
Panting as the cool winter air cruelly whipped by his face as he turned the corner in pursuit of Elik, Deimos sent a silent prayer to the Light that the other elf had found some sort of sanctuary. Expecting to find the passageway empty, Elik's fleeing form already tearing down the adjacent alley, the paladin came to a rapid halt at what lay ahead of him. Instead of the proverbial bare and worn down streets, Deimos was greeted with a more terrifying and startling scene. Held by a large and brawny human was Elik, his pathetic and weak struggles hardly causing his captor to fight to keep him still. His wide and fright stricken eyes meeting Deimos' in an imploring fashion, the paladin almost didn't notice the second human standing beside them.
Taken back by the scene before him, Deimos had a momentary second of delay in his reactions. Feeling a whoosh of air behind his back being his only warning, the paladin clumsily sidestepped a slicing dagger to the back of his neck. Whipping his head around to keep an eye on his assailant, the young elf was instead rewarded with empty space. Snarling in aggravation at the tactics the men were taking, he had had enough. Swiftly murmuring enchanted words, the cracked and worn stone beneath the paladin's feet erupted in a great and strong golden light. The strong consecration filled the area surrounding Deimos, the fierce holy attack illuminating the space. Darting his gaze around himself, noting with distaste the attack failed to reach the humans and Elik standing paces away, the elf was rewarded with a lone figure emerging from a corner. His face contorted in pain from the holy energies filling his body, the male undead uneasily gripped his twin daggers in hands as Deimos rapidly approached him.
Pausing to quickly contemplate the possible outcomes for the skirmish, the paladin didn't see many coming out in his favor; he was simply outnumbered and out armed. Flexing his hands open and closed in determination, he sent a silent prayer to the Light. The lit up street slowly fading, he directed his attention at the momentarily stunned undead. For what he lacked in weapon damage, he would have to make up with holy attacks. Outstretching his open hand in front of him towards the undead, Deimos concentrated on his enemy while he whispered an incantation. The undead dreadfully recognizing the charmed terms, he was too late to stop the exorcism. As the last word left Deimos' mouth, a strong bolt of holy energy ruthlessly slammed itself into his opponent's body; blasting his skeleton-like body paces away.
His body feeling the fatigued effects of executing the two strong, yet demanding holy attacks consecutively, Deimos eyed the unmoving undead with satisfaction. Not allowing himself to take joy in the small victory, the paladin began to turn around to take on the remaining assailants. A strong and hard slam to the side of his head though, caused the young elf to fall to the street. His vision swimming and head screaming in pain, Deimos listened for the all too familiar sound of a blade slicing cleanly through the air. Rolling to the left, the action only irritating his head wound all the worse, the paladin glanced up at his opponent. Staring down at him several feet away was one of the humans, his anger and infused face glaring down at the young elf with malice.
Not bothering to attempt to pull himself up, Deimos instead focused his attention on subduing the incensed human. Acknowledging that his being had a dwindling supply of mana and energy, the paladin forced his body to comply with his desire and command. Rapidly repeating an incantation in hopes of ending the brawl, the young elf was interrupted when his side erupted in white hot pain. A strong impact to his body causing him to roll to the side, Deimos clenched his eyes shut in pain from the plated foot that slammed into his unarmed midsection. Panting and winded from the assault, he prepared himself to attempt to proceed with the planned attack. A second brutal and vicious kick to his stomach, however, impeded his movements. Landing on his back painfully from the strong assault, the young elf instinctively wrapped his arms around his midsection in an ill attempt to guard any further attacks.
Daring to crack his eyes open, Deimos' line of sight filled with a deathly calm and emotionless human; different from the other two. Standing directly over the paladin, the imposing man moved with impressive speed as he knelt down and gripped the elf's throat in one beefy hand. Lifting the beat and aching Deimos with disturbing ease, the elf weakly struggling, the man thrust him with immense strength towards a stoned wall. Colliding with the building painfully, his left shoulder crunching unforgivingly from impact, Deimos fell to the ground with a thud.
His lungs screaming for more air, head pounding in pain, and shoulder aching in discomfort, Deimos knew the outcome was no longer in his favor. Propping himself up on one elbow with a grimace, the young elf swiftly gripped the dangling ruby necklace resting around his neck. Giving a quick tug, he was rewarded with the chain opening, and the necklace freely falling from its place. Taking note of the two pairs of footsteps approaching him, the elf tossed the necklace discreetly to the left. Watching the heirloom necklace bounce and land beneath a splintered and shabby bench left a sour taste in his mouth. Wincing slightly as heavy and forceful hands wrapped themselves around his upper arms, hauling him to his knees, Deimos hesitantly met his captors faces.
The two humans stood in front of him, both wearing drastically contrasting facial expressions. The human that glared at him with malice still held a discontent for the younger elf; the other man's face holding a sly grin. The inquisitive yet invasive look from the human caused a shiver to run up Deimos' spine. His chest rising and falling rapidly from the brawl, the paladin was sure to keep his head proudly raised; he wouldn't give the humans the satisfaction of seeing him bested.
"This one's only been trouble," the incensed looking human began in Common, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other. "Too much trouble, if you ask me."
The plate-donned man standing beside him didn't seem the least bit perplexed by his colleague's words. Instead, his unnerving grin only increased in intensity as he slowly approached Deimos. "What are you talking about? Look at him." Pausing to run his eyes up and down the young elf, the human smirked. "He's a gold mine."
No longer able to withstand the talking's in front of him, Deimos began to push himself to his feet with a growl. He would be damned if he would willingly depart with the traders. However, a swift and hard backhand across his face caused his head to whip to the side as his feet lost their balance. A set of firm hands gripped his shoulders as he was forced back on his knees, a thin trail of blood running down his chin.
Struggling weakly against the unwavering grip, Deimos stilled his fighting when a deep laugh reached his ears. Glancing up, the young elf met the plated human's amused glare. "Yes, he definitely has some fight in him."
"I would say." A gruff voice from behind Deimos sounded, the vice grip on his shoulders tightening.
"I'll have people looking for me," Deimos began in Common, slightly raising his head higher. "I'm a soldier of the Alliance."
The grin on the man's face faintly fell at the words as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Sparing a quick glance at his partner holding Deimos in place, the plated human narrowed his eyes at the angered young elf. "It's good to see you speak Common, elf." Pausing to give a wave of his hand and place the grin back on his face, the human continued. "And no matter for your involvement with the military. In a couple weeks, not even the Lich King himself will be able to track you down."
Crouching down, the human bent on one knee in front of the young elf with a smirk. The close proximity of the man only infuriated Deimos all the more; his form nearly shaking in resentment. "Yes, we'll get quite a bit from you."
"I'm nobody's property."
Laughing lowly from the paladin's words, the human rose to his feet with a smug look on his face. Giving a small and brisk nod of his head to the figure behind the young elf, the man directed his gaze back to Deimos with a smirk. "Have a good sleep, paladin."
The last word coming out in a mocking fashion, Deimos didn't have time to send a retort before a hard and forceful object made contact with the back of his head. Blackness immediately overcoming him, the young elf only had time for a brief thought to cross his mind: Why me…
Turning the page from the report, Tharsis heaved a deep sigh. The lengthy report detailing the reconnaissance mission at Icecrown several months ago was extensive, to say the least. After having his son read the account and give him his input, Tharsis was thumbing through the report once again to get a different angle on it. Always longing to challenge Deimos with mental conditioning, the boy had developed an acute sense of strategic planning and tactful sense. Aiding Tharsis in the planning and executing of the raid on the Stormwind five years prior, the paladin's honed skills were impressive. Asking for his input pertaining to the report wasn't only educational for the boy, but also logical. Though the commander trusted in the ability of the lieutenants, he's ulterior motive to groom Deimos into a better soldier dominated many of his choices.
Crossing his arms over his chest while he leaned back in his chair, Tharsis gave a look around the library. The desk was littered with its usual amount of reports and pages, the only area with untidiness. The white plush sofas were clean and vacant, the remaining furniture following suit. Not a single book was out of place in the tall and escalating shelves, while all the surfaces were void of any signs of debris or dust. Save for Tharsis' figure at the desk, the house seemed to carry an empty and desolate feeling, the eerie stillness of the dwelling putting the older elf at unease. However, the feeling wasn't novel to the commander. Months prior, when returning from the campaign in Northrend, Tharsis was welcomed home to a vacant house. While he was vexed for the reason of his son's belatedness from rendezvousing at the front, he was more irritated when learning of his long-term leave for Stormwind. Living in the barren residence had only seemed to infuse Tharsis all the more; listening in vain for his son's movements throughout the house only to be responded with silence. Commencing the daily meditation and eating meals alone had seemed foreign and strange to the commander.
Giving a small tilt of his head, Tharsis heaved a sigh at the calmness and silence that instilled the dwelling. Though he longed for peace and quiet from his son at times, Deimos' habits and antics had become a part of his own daily routine. He expected to hear the young elf grudgingly roll out of bed at 0600, feel his company during meditation, and see his eager form welding a blade at practice. The lack of his presence in the house seemed to create a rift in Tharsis' own day; the continuous silence breaking his line of thought. However, the commander acknowledged the importance of Deimos spending time with Elik, or those from his proper age group. If Elik was to take his place as a Magister in the future, the necessity for Deimos to be on sound terms with him was crucial. Though the two young elves fought at each other's necks, they would eventually mature out of the juvenile bantering.
Glancing down at the clock, Tharsis was both surprised and dismayed at the placement of the golden hands on the timepiece: 1704. Brows together in irritation, he couldn't quell the annoyed and fuming emotions that swelled inside him. While Deimos was a mere four minutes late, the boy knew better; especially with the events that transpired only a week prior. While it was possible the young elf had simply gotten sidetracked in conversation with the elves of his age group, Tharsis was still mentally preparing a lecture. Such irresponsibility and frivolity wouldn't be tolerated.
A loud and booming knock resonated throughout the dwelling, ripping Tharsis from his musings. Lifting a delicate brow up in curiosity at the thunderous rapping on the front door, the commander promptly rose to his feet. Moving across the library, he was slightly perplexed for the reason of the knocking. Knowing he wasn't expecting any visitors or company, he gave a small shake of his head when assuming who it was. Several more strident and piercing thuds broke the houses' silence, demonstrating the person's impatience setting in. Always locking the front door after entering the house, Tharsis naturally assumed Deimos had absently forgotten his key. Pushing back the silks to enter the lavish foyer, Tharsis knew it wouldn't be the first time.
Another set of loud banging emitted from the door as Tharsis approached it, his head shaking in annoyance. Unclasping the lock, Tharsis pulled the heavy and great door open. "Enough, Deimos. Perhaps if you remembered- Brightwing! How can I help you?"
Standing before Tharsis with a troubled look on his face was Brightwing, accompanied by several armed and blank faced guards standing behind him; weapons remaining untouched at their sides. His imploring eyes roaming Tharsis' waiting face, the ranger-general set his jaw in an attempt to calm himself. "Is Deimos here?"
The serious and somber tone emitted from Brightwing caused Tharsis to stand up a bit straighter and keep his own voice matching the graveness. "He's with Elik. Why?"
Muttering a crude curse under his breath, Brightwing pursed his lips in silent anger. "Are you positive you haven't seen him? Perhaps he came home before you did?"
Leaning his weight to the side in pure curiosity from the begging tone lingering in Brightwing's voice, the commander gave a brisk shake of his head. "He hasn't returned." Taking in the ranger-general's face visibly fall at the words, Tharsis narrowed his eyes while adding an edge to his voice. "Brightwing, what's wrong? Has he gotten into trouble?"
Running a hand over his worn face, Brightwing let a long sigh escape through his lips. Sparing a quick glance at the soldiers standing behind him, he rested his gaze on Tharsis' impatient and keen face. "It would be best for us to sit down and discuss this."
Darting his eyes around the ranger-general's face, irritated by his defeated and routed expression, Tharsis wasn't prepared to heed the elf's request. "If it has to do with my son, I demand to be told."
The barking and harsh command not phasing Brightwing in the least, the elf licked his lips in thought. Having been acquainted with Tharsis for the vast amount of time that he was, the ranger-general expected nothing less from the elf. Heaving a sigh in trounce, Brightwing slipped a hand into his pocket to retrieve an important item. Not able to hold the commander's hard and severe gaze, he diverted his eyes to the floor while he fumbled for the article.
"An apprentice walking to the Students of Shadow reported an item they found to an arcane guardian patrol. Thankfully, it was the student that found the item and not the usual caliber of citizens in Murder Row." Pausing as his hand wrapped around the object he sought in his pocket triumphantly, Brightwing was swift to raise the item in the air. "He said he found this in an alley."
Feeling the blood drain from his face and a tremor run up his spin, Tharsis eyed the ruby pendant dangling from the broken chain Brightwing held with disbelief. The arcane infused light hit the necklace at the right angle; the black and white Thalassian symbol glinting with mockery. His heart beginning to race at the same pace his head was pounding, the commander hastily grabbed the necklace that belonged to his son. "He found this in Murder Row?"
His eyes roaming Tharsis' face, Brightwing was slightly taken back by surprise at the sheer magnitude of emotion the commander displayed. While it still significantly lacked the amount of appropriate reaction a typical parent would harbor, the quantity surpassed Tharsis' usual impassive and uncaring look. "Yes. I've already seen to it-"
"Where's Elik? Have you checked with the study groups? There must be an explanation; Deimos knows he's not to step foot in Murder Row. Were there any witnesses around the-"
"Tharsis, please," Brightwing began, his voice curbing a more demanding and serious tone, "I've already spoken with Rommath and the younger elves. Deimos and Elik never met with them."
His fist closing angrily around the small and delicate ruby, Tharsis lifted his gaze to rest on the ranger-general; his own tone matching the other elf's intensity. "Elik is missing as well?"
"Yes. Rommath wished to speak with you first but I felt it best if I did. We've halted all movement in and out of the city walls – though based on our preliminary searching, I doubt it'll do anything."
Shaking his head furiously, Tharsis abruptly spun on his heels away from the open door and group of elves. Taking large and swift strides towards the library, his tight grasp on the necklace never faltering or wavering, he felt his early emotions subside. Though initially shocked and worried at the news of his son's disappearance, the commander knew the situation would have to be dealt with strategically and rapid. No longer were his thoughts and emotions plagued with that of sheer anxiety. Instead, they were dominated with a battle-ready and cold attitude. His mind reeling through the vast amount of reports pertaining to the dire activity in Murder Row, he pushed the silks back to enter the library.
"Tharsis!" Brightwing exclaimed to the hastily departing elf. Giving a hand gesture to the waiting guards to remain in their spots, the ranger-general moved through the lavish and rich foyer in an effort to reach Tharsis. Following him through the billowing silks that hung in the doorway, Brightwing paused in the middle of the library to observe the commander approach his desk with determination.
"You said you had a preliminary search going on?"
Watching Tharsis pull a pen from the depths of his untidy desk and retrieve a piece of what seemed like blank paper, Brightwing gave a hesitant nod. "The search is still currently going on."
"I'll need the finished reports and findings from the guardians; preferably by tonight. I'm going to need the name of the student that found Deimos' necklace. I have to question him. I'll also need the names-"
"Whoa, Tharsis," Brightwing interrupted, his head shaking incredulously at the commander's words. "I know you want to begin searching for Deimos immediately – as do I! However…" Pausing as his voice lingered off while he searched in vain for better words, he met the firm and sever gaze from Tharsis. "Some believe that due to…personal involvement, you should be pulled from the mission."
The pen falling from his grasp with a clank, Tharsis straightened himself to his full height. Narrowing his eyes angrily at the calmly standing ranger-general, the commander gritted his teeth in fury. "I've been working on this mission for months. Who believes this?"
"Rommath mostly. He convinced the Magisters that you should have gotten this issue taken care of weeks, or months ago. He's claiming you haven't been putting enough effort into the job."
"And what of you, Brightwing? Or Lor'themar? Do you think I should be pulled from the mission?"
The snide and sneering tone from the commander caused Brightwing to send his gaze to the side; suddenly finding the golden and red trim on a plush pillow resting on a couch interesting. "You know I want to see Deimos and Elik safely brought back just as much as you do, Tharsis. Perhaps the Magisters are-"
"-right?" Tharsis interrupted, his yelling and incensed voice no longer able to hide its malice at the turn of the conversation. "Has Rommath had you mind wiped, Brightwing? I'm fully capable and able at tracking down and finding my own son!"
Growling at the booming and angered voice that resonated throughout the elevated ceiling, the ranger-general was quick to match the commander's intensity. "Light! Cannot you not swallow your pride long enough to find Deimos? And listen to yourself! This is why they're taking you off the mission. You're not thinking rationally or level headed."
"I'll get a hell of a lot more done than some poorly trained subordinate would! So you can go back to the Spire and tell those limp-dick Magisters that I'm staying on! And I will find Deimos and Elik."
Raising a surprised brow at the vulgar words Tharsis used, Brightwing heaved a deep breath. His mind and body calming significantly, the ranger-general crossed his arms over his chest as his voice took a soother tone. "They're already decided." Pausing to bite his lower lip in thought, he felt the commander's angered and incensed gaze boring into him. "However, I'm sure any information, or tip offs, that you may be able to provide the officer undertaking the mission would be… most appreciated."
Taking several deep breaths at the hidden meaning lingering behind Brightwing's words, Tharsis gave a small and brisk nod of his head. Opening up his hand that had the necklace in a vice grip, he gazed down at the shining ruby pendant. Running his thumb over the smooth and polished edges, Tharsis knew if the Magisters wanted him off the assignment, they would be monitoring his activity. Not usually one to directly disobey an order, the commander felt a small thrill of exhilaration at his rebellious attitude; yet also a small pang of guilt. His thumb tracing the symbol carved into the ruby, Tharsis swiftly subdued the feelings of remorse. While he would be restricted from the actual activity of searching for the elves, the commander would commence his own investigation. Though he couldn't be the one to retrieve his son, he could point the direction for those who could.