Grace

Book One, Part Two

It would be quite the understatement to write that I tossed and turned that night. The concept all together should have been overlooked by a girl such as me. A normal girl would have never roamed the dark streets again.

Except, according to Zen, I wasn't normal.

Joining SI:7 actually excited me—I found myself drawn to the rogue's position. If I was good at it, why not make the most of it? I'd be aiding in this war my very own way, using my special talents to seek revenge. I'd follow everyone's footsteps. Father's, Lucas', Dennis'…

The only thing holding me back was that I'd be leaving behind a family. A mother who loved me and a brother who needed me.

But I wanted it badly.

Seeing my brother the following night was relieving. He was much more than a brother. Lucas was a friend, confidant, and guardian. I explained everything to him—I talked that night more than I had the previous two years. When I had finished, Lucas seemed interested. "Rogue's are an interesting class," he finally stated. "It definitely takes a different mindset…"

"A person very dear to me once asked if I was upset enough to cry or angry enough to act. Lucas, I'm tired of crying."

His lips tightened into a wince. "You're to clever for your own good, do you know that?"

I grinned. "I learned from the best."

Dennis had a similar reaction, then he pursed his lips, looking me over. "My little girl a sinister rogue? Hmmm…" His face clenched in thought. "You know, when I was gifted with the Light, I kind of took you as a priestess type. But a rogue…"

But ultimately he approved. We conversed for a few more minutes before I stole a glance at the moon. "I have to go, Dennis. I have to talk to Zen."

"Zen?" he repeated.

"That's his name. Zen."

"Oh." Dennis' face contorted in confusion. "Who the hell names their son Zen?"

Suppressing a giggle, I stood. "When I get the chance, I'll ask him."

"Good. And tell him he'd better be watching you! If I learn that you get hurt or…"

"I know, Dennis. This is what I want. I want to fight alongside you and Lucas."

Dennis nodded, finally giving me a hug. "Follow your heart, Grace. We're behind you every step of the way."

My hood was again draped over my head, acting as a crown of darkness. It was yet another comfort zone of mine. Again I was off, creeping through the shadows. My best efforts were put forth to try to remain perceptive of my surroundings, but I found myself too submerged in adrenaline.

Partly an excitement of the unknown. Another part nerves because I was choosing to directly disobey (and ultimately disappoint and therefore disrespect) my mother.

Zen mentioned the night previous that he'd find me. Minutes rolled by as I roamed the city. Luckily Stormwind was a decent size, and it gave me an opportunity to venture into new grounds.

When I had passed the same homeless peasant for a second time, I began to grow impatient. I grinned as I attempted to blend into an especially black corner.

Fine. If Zen wanted me to wait, then I may as well make his job more difficult. As quickly and quietly as I possibly could, I paced through the city, staying along building walls and slipping into alleyways I didn't even know existed.

In fact, I was so determined to confuse Zen that I ended up confusing myself. Somehow I wound up in the Cathedral Square. Perhaps that was a bonus during my little escapade—after all, how many rogues would honestly enter the Cathedral willingly?

I tried to stay cloaked within shadows as I strode down the main hall, but it seemed useless. Candles painted glimpses of gold across stone walls, and I could probably be easily spotted.

That was okay though. Zen would not likely look here. I pursed my lips. Unless, of course, he'd been following this whole time, merely observing. Scoffing, I continued my way with a bit more haste.

I was paranoid.

As I journeyed along, I grew confused. The building was large. A smaller room to the left led to dark hallways, lined with naked candles. If the Cathedral wasn't a holy place, I would have been more concerned. The creepiness of the surroundings was almost unsettling.

I nearly slipped when the pathway suddenly morphed into a declining spiral. The tunnel as small, the musky smell of stone and dust seemingly rising from a lower level.

My movements were much slower now and near cautionary. Curiosity fueled my trek instead of a spite for Zen.

The strange path finally leveled off, but part of me had wished it hadn't. In this barely lit room was a mess of cobwebs, statues, and scattered bones. Skeletons seemed to litter the place. At first I wasn't convinced—I even tore my hood off to get a better look. But what seemed unreal were not. I grimaced, body absent-mindedly backing into the nearest wall.

Exactly what was this place? And what was it doing in the basement of the cathedral?

I probably wouldn't want to know, I decided, and I turned to leave the way I came. Only to be a touch away from a chin. In shock I reeled back, the darkness suddenly a very unfriendly place.

"Don't you know a rogue's place isn't in the cathedral?" the figure asked. I exhaled in relief as I recognized the voice.

"Don't you know that's exactly why I came here?" I retorted. I could barely make out Zen's face. His familiar green eyes, however, did glint with amusement. "Besides," I added, "I'm not a rogue."

"Not yet, at least," Zen commented nonchalantly. His eyes drew to slits. "Which is why we're here, I believe. Well," he looked around. "Not quite taken with the meeting place, but I did tell you I would find you. Perhaps I left myself…open for interpretation."

"I grew restless," I muttered.

"I must admit, I'd lost you for a brief moment. Saw you trampling up those cathedral stairs, though."

My eyebrows rose. "You've been following the entire time? Impossible."

Zen's hands came up, in an effort to shrug at himself. "Rogue."

I scoffed, looking around at my cozy surroundings. "Stalker." He let loose a chuckle, apparently accustomed to such a remark.

"So, Stacy-"

"Grace."

"Grace." His smile, if possible, widened. "As I promised, I've found you. And you stayed along the city's streets…for the most part." Zen's eyes scanned the creepy skeletons strewn about. "Can I presume you intend on joining the ranks of SI:7?"

I pursed my lips in thought. "I'm not fully sure yet. You said I could think it over."

"Over the day. I was seeking your decision tonight."

"Well I don't have a decision for you yet," I answered honestly, confusion bleeding through my words.

Zen concentrated a lethal stare onto me. I shifted uncomfortably. "It's a simple yes or no answer."

"But it's not a simple question!" I retaliated, throwing my hands in the air. "You don't know my history. What my family has been through-"

"Pause right there," Zen stated, eyes now on the ground between us. Maybe it was his lack of a stare, or the dark aura that started to glaze his body. Whatever made me do it, I clipped my mouth shut. "Each person in this war has their own tragic story. Some more perilous, some more horrific. But they're all tragic. We function as one unit—whether rogue, mage, warrior—because we each have a story of pain. Anguish. It's our common thread we share as humanity."

Words ran through my head. I could've retorted. Could've apologized.

I said nothing. I only paused, breathing shallowly as I thought of my dilemma. Finally I squeezed my eyes shut, liquid making them burn. "I just don't know."

"You want to say yes. So who is stopping you?" Zen asked rather bluntly. He didn't seem amused anymore. Only frustrated.

Apparently Zen truly wanted me in.

"It's my mother," I answered.

The rogue paused, then he sighed in defeat. "A mother," he repeated in a mutter. "Normally I can rid of nuisances with a dash of poison. But of course it's complicated. This is even worse. Your case doesn't cease to have its share of fickle."

I half laughed, still mulling over my decision. What I wanted was what my mother feared the most. In her eyes, I'd be better off marrying the bum down the street and running away to Kalimdor.

That thought gave me the half of a laugh I had been missing.

Zen drew closer to me, and I briefly caught a glimpse of thin lips in the light. "That is, unless you would prefer that method. If she's the bane of your existence I could fix it-"

"No!" I snapped. "That's ridiculous!"

"I've had some fairly odd requests. They far surpass what you consider ridiculous."

"I love my mother. That's the only reason I can't say yes."

Another pause. Then Zen blinked, taking my arm in a flash. "Come."

"What?" I asked loudly as Zen pulled us toward the doorway. "Where?"

"To SI:7."

My knees locked in an attempt to halt our progress, but it did nothing to aid my predicament. "But I haven't agreed yet! You can't recruit me against my will!"

"Well, it's not your will we're worried about, is it?"

"But my mother-"

"We'll take care of your mother."

If possible, my eyes widened further. "No! What is with you? Kidnapping me and threatening my mother's life…"

"You're jumping to conclusions, girl," Zen stated. Swiftly he pulled me through the streets. "You need to remember that we're on the same side." A sharp left turn as I tried not to get my shoulder slammed into a corner. "Nothing should stop your desires. You shall make it a point to speak to your mother. Promptly."

His determination made my chest tighten as I gazed at Zen's lock on my arm. Then I looked away, forcing my eyes to the cobblestone.

"Now, could you stop being a hassle and pick up your feet?"

Trying to push thoughts of my mother's reaction away, I followed his request. It didn't quell the feeling of nausea, however.

Before I had time to realize it, we arrived at SI:7. Like the rest of Stormwind, it was shrouded in darkness. But it felt different, as if the building itself had secrets. Perhaps they're hiding dead bodies, I mused, of potential pupils who refused to obey.

We took necessary turns in order to reach what seemed to be the heart of the building—a sort of welcoming center with a slight lack in the 'welcoming' department.

It wasn't the look—the setting was definitely reminisce of a cozy home, complete with a hearth. It was a feel, as if you were walking into unknown territory, and you couldn't enter with presumptions.

And that's how SI:7 wants you to feel.

"Now what?" I asked as Zen released his grip. He didn't lift his stare.

"A tour. We may even run into my superiors at some point."

I chuckled. "You have superiors?"

"Plenty of them." Then he scowled as he recognized my amused laugh. "Why? What's so funny?"

"You just don't seem the type to listen to superiors," I answered honestly. Zen scoffed.

We began our tour. There really wasn't much to see, and when I mentioned this, Zen had an explanation. "Most of our operation is hidden. The better you become, the more you learn. Makes it harder for spies and traitors to infiltrate that way."

I didn't say it was informative.

"Where are the rooms?" I asked.

Zen's face contorted. "Rooms?"

"Yes, you know—quarters? For the trainees? My brother's a warrior trainee. He rooms with others like him. My friend's a paladin. He does the same."

"Oh." Zen smirked. "Well, our branch is more individualistic. You'll be housed with your instructor."

"…You?" I asked, a blush rising to my cheeks. Apparently darkness hid rogues, as well as their immature thoughts.

"No." I pursed my lips, slightly disappointed. I was beginning to warm up to his arrogant mysteriousness.

It wasn't long before Zen had finished his grand tour with a final turn towards me. "So that's SI:7. Ready to begin?" Zen asked eagerly. My eyebrows furrowed.

"Already?"

"We're desperate for talent such as yours. You can start in the morning with Aradar. Your answer is yes, correct?"

I took a step back. "No, not yet. I still have to explain all of this to my mother and convince her that killing me won't resolve the issue. I need time."

Zen huffed, a graceful hand combing his bangs aside. "I shall speak with your mother."

"No," I stated. "I'll do it. I have to do it."

"Okay, then. Meet me here tomorrow."

I snorted in disbelief. "Tomorrow?"

"Fine. Two days," he snapped in agitation. "But remember—we need you in. I'll do anything in my power for it to be so…aside from poisoning your mother, as promised," he added as I shot him a look of incredulity.

I nodded, noticing the sliver of gold in the horizon that promised a sunrise. "I understand. But I'm just not sure yet."

The rogue's lips tightened until he finally grimaced. "Two days. Same time. Same place."

"The Cathedral?" I asked, eyebrow raised.

"Well, you've seemed to have taken a liking to it." I half chuckled, taking the opportunity to raise my hood.

"The Cathedral of Light. How fitting we hide in its darkness."

"See?" Zen called as I plodded down the steps. "You are a rogue. You just can't admit it." A reply of wit wouldn't form on my lips, but I managed a smirk as I disappeared into the darkness.

Another sleepless night. By the time I had arrived at our small house, dawn was settling in. I wasn't expecting any form of rest in the time I had left before my mother awakened.

Seeing SI:7's operations shot a sense of eagerness through my blood. I could be a part of something bigger than me. Like Lucas and Dennis.

I sat at our old kitchen table, sweaty hands fidgeting. Mother would be up soon, and this was not one of those moments I could stealth around. No waiting. I had to speak to her as soon as possible.

But that didn't mean I wanted to break the news and watch the light fade from her eyes. I exhaled slowly. I was obviously so positive about the entire experience.

Shuffling was heard from behind me, where my mother had slept. I didn't bother looking behind, in fear of seeing my mother and opting to forget I ever wanted to mention my cause.

"Grace?" My eyes shut in concentration. This was going to be harder than anticipated. "Why are you up so early?"

"I didn't sleep. Just got home, actually." I heard my mother's bare feet pad around the table, and then my mom was in front of me, hands reaching the table like she had rushed to my aid.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Her eyes widened. "Is it Lucas? Is he okay?"

"Lucas is fine," I answered assuredly. "I was approached by an alliance officer last night."

Eyes steadily on me, my mother's only movement was a tense in her neck. "And?" It sounded like it hurt her to utter anything.

"And…they want me to join." Her façade fell, body slumped with the weight of anxiety. She sat, face immediately hidden within her hands. "Mother…"

"My children..." She mourned as if our lives were lost in battle already. I attempted to comfort her with a touch of my hand, but she writhed away from contact. "No," she demanded, a slight hint of rage tainting her statement.

I waited, trying to muster a thought on what to do. "Mother," I tried again, "I want to talk about it…"

"Like your brother did?" she hissed, eyes finally piercing. I almost swayed away from the anger she was blatantly emitting.

A mother's wrath is a force many cannot contend with. It's a mix of rage, fury, over-protectiveness, defensiveness—and they all mix and funnel because of a factor I consider motherly instinct.

She was losing another child. She realized that, and she punished me for it. No extra chores, no beating. My mother refused to talk to me, touch me, even look at me. Silently she tore out of the room, beginning her daily tasks. The rest of the day we remained as such.

As well as the next day. Many times I attempted to get her attention. Ironic that as a rogue I'm trained to slip under someone's attention, and that it was the last thing I wanted in this critical moment.

My mother knew I didn't have the gall to leave without a single ounce of her approval. I was trapped, teetering on my own mother's anguish and stubbornness.

The second night came and left. I felt sick, not being able to meet Zen as promised. Was I to lose my place in SI:7?

And I was beginning to feel out-of-place. I couldn't eat—the silence at dinner ruined my appetite. I couldn't sleep—I didn't wish to sleep in the same room as a mother who was completely disappointed in her daughter. Stress took over my body, and by the fourth day after my news, I was pale and light-headed.

I was supposed to carry a pile of chopped wood inside. Normally, I was more-than-capable of such a load. But I was exhausted. I stumbled in the doorway, and before I could catch myself the pile had slipped out of my grasp. I fumbled after the logs, forehead colliding into the corner of the table. After the clatter had died down did I notice my mother in the doorway leading to the bedroom, hand at her mouth.

"I'm sorry," I stuttered, attempting to reach for some of the pieces that landed near me. A thick warmth was beginning to settle on the top of my forehead, but I was able to blink away the blurriness. I hadn't realized my mother approached me until her hands clasped my cheeks, and I saw her kneeling in front of me.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Her hands were cold, and I shuddered. "Look at my Grace. Look what I've done to you."

I grew speechless. "Mom-" She stifled a cry at my word, and her hand had to push away tears that now fell relentlessly.

"You're just like your father," she managed through her cries. "Why couldn't I just admit that?"

"It's okay."

"But you have to see, Grace," she insisted, eyes landing on mine. Hers were moist and red. "I'm losing my entire family to this war. I'm going to rot away here…" I opened my mouth to argue, but she shook her head. "But I can't have my daughter rotting either. Sometimes I miss your father so much…"

"My father died a noble cause. He defended our land, and in doing so promised us a future. Can't you understand that I want the same?" I asked quietly, barely able to concentrate except for my determination.

"Do you want to end the same?" she countered with fear. I withdrew slightly.

"I'll do what I must. I need to be sure my father didn't die in vain. Someone has to finish what he started."

"My two eldest…" My mother's hand covered a trembling lip. She stifled a chuckle. "Unfortunately, my two eldest acquired my husband's hard-headedness." She sighed, her tears ceasing to cause racking shoulders but still able to feed on her energy. "From a mother's perspective, I should be pulling my hair out and locking you in a cellar. From my husband's perspective…" My jaw clenched as my mother actually smiled. "He'd be proud."

At the mention of such, I attempted to crack a smile. My mother returned it as her hand fell onto mine. "The choice is yours, Grace. If you wish to fill your father's shoes, do so. But it's not easy."

"I'm ready to accept the consequences," I replied. "I only wish I could take away the suffering you feel."

"Don't worry, I'll be here," my mother ensured. "You'll always have a place here. Just like your brother."

"He'll be happy to hear that."

"He's my son no matter what," my mother added. I smiled in relief, now content with my exhaustion. It had worked out after all. "So you are going?" asked the older woman. "I'd hoped you and your brother were just going through a phase of sorts. All the hype about your father..."

"Even if he was alive today, I think I'd still want to go. The rogue class needs me."

"Rogue?" Mother choked on her surprise. "As assassin? My daughter?"

"They came to me for help," I said. "They said I'd be good."

"Of course you will, you're a Fulstorm." I blinked in an attempt to rid of some exhaustion. "Let's mend that wound of yours, so you can get some rest. I know sleep deprivation when I see it."

"What about the chores?"

"Later."

I blinked, finally focused on the pain that began to settle near my temple.

She washed the gash on my forehead, then covering it with a bit of bandage. When the mending was finished, I hugged my caregiver. "Thanks, mom."

"For what?"

Smiling, I pulled away and fumbled to my bedroom. "For everything."

I slept better than I had in ages. My mother accepted my decision—she didn't want me to go, but she realized the importance it had to me and Lucas. Sleep was deep. I didn't awaken until late afternoon the following day, but I had never been so enthused about daily chores.

With the action going on around the house, I had forgotten the date. My mother already had a lunch prepared, she and Matthew setting the table. "Happy birthday, Grace," my mother cooed. It was our most animated meal since Lucas' departure.

Eighteen years old, with the blessing of her mother to chase my dream. I was happy, relieved, free of nervousness and deceit. It was replaced by a slight throb in my forehead.

Mother noticed my change in mood. She didn't say anything, but she wore that motherly grin that meant "I know what's going on."

She let me leave that night. I was propelled by excitement, and nervousness—would Zen be waiting? Or had he given up hope?

I told Dennis, who after giving me a massive birthday hug gave me a warning that went something like "From now on you stay in my line of sight."

My brother's reaction was similar, but I also told him about mother's breakthrough. I'd never seen him smile so wide.

"Are you going to seek Zen?" he finally asked.

I nodded. "Hopefully I won't have to," I answered. "But give me an hour on the streets of Stormwind."

Lucas snorted. "My sister roaming the streets at night. How comforting."

"Anyone else and it wouldn't be," I retorted seriously.

I bade Lucas goodnight rather early. Again I was sweeping the city, looking for Zen and at the same time waiting for him to find me.

The moon cast a dazzling reflection on the waters of the canals. I could have mistaken it for the real thing. Somehow I ended up standing upon a makeshift dock, my entire attention somehow drawn to the image.

The moon. Un-phased by the black of night. A hopeful icon that promised the return of daylight. It was a beautiful scene—I couldn't ask for a better backdrop for my birthday.

"You're waiting." Zen's voice was easily recognizable now—it was incredibly smooth and had the potential to be soothing, but his articulation broke the effect. "And I'm hoping it's not for those two drunkards you made friends with a few nights ago."

"You know, if this was a secret lover's tryst, you'd sound much more alluring. That's the best you have to keep me around?"

I didn't bother turning. I could see Zen's dark figure in the water's reflection. "It's a shame this isn't a tryst, isn't it."

I scowled. "The sarcasm isn't appreciated. I thought your job was to get me to join. You're not doing much good."

Zen tried to read me—I knew this because of the silence. He was trying to read what had happening, and whether I still had the desire to be a rogue.

"I gave you two days," he began, trying to open the issue up for interpretation. "Is there a reason we're standing here two days after the deadline?"

I suppressed a smirk. "Had difficulties. I would have come earlier if I could. I would have been perfectly content with standing alone until you came along."

"You were waiting."

"We're all waiting," I countered. "For redemption, salvation—for any notion of change." I paused, finally turning to face Zen. His eyes automatically caught the gash decorating my forehead. "I'm tired of waiting. I'm ready to make a difference."

He paused, gaze dropping from my wound to my eyes. Zen was doing it again—analyzing me. My fears, emotions, desires… "You were hurt," he stated bluntly.

My fingers grazed the stitches. "It was…a difficult few days with my mother. My energy was so zapped that I nearly fainted. I'm back, though, and ready for action. When do I start?"

A smile finally appeared on Zen's lips. "Excellent. You start tomorrow. Meet me in the lobby of SI:7 at dawn."

I blinked. "D-dawn?"

"Start committing now," Zen encouraged as he turned and stepped off the dock with heavy thuds. "You are committed, aren't you?"

I glared, but he obviously couldn't hear such a combat.