I know ya'll missed me! Or, well...Grace. And Zen. And Taellor. =P
Lucas
Book Nine, Part One
The cream worked. So well that I applied it to my legs and feet, too. After I had finished, I begrudgingly laid down, knowing I wasn't going to be allowed the second shift. Again, Blizz curled up, her back a large, furry pillow against my back. "I know it's not likely, but if you're still cold," Taellor offered, "I have an extra blanket."
Graystone snored loudly—so loud, Blizz's purrs in my ear couldn't soothe them away. They would be fairly tolerable and steady for awhile, and then like a volcano waking up, the noise would rip through the night without an invitation.
I was forming a cold sweat down my back. It could have been from general dread, or from the sudden change in body temperature. Either way, it left me feeling uncomfortable.
And Gregor was still awake. He was gravely silent and still—but I read auras much easier than feelings, and his energy was telling me he was awake.
So with all of these distractions, how could a girl sleep? Not to mention the strange, scary situation I was caught up in with the Scourge.
It was a couple hours before Gregor was asleep. It took the edge off a little. Everyone except me remained asleep, until Taellor stirred awake.
He rolled in his cot so that he faced me, and I was then staring right into his eyes. "Not asleep?" he inquired softly.
"Not in the least," I answered.
"I assumed as much," he said. That was the funny thing I was learning about rogues. They liked to infer information, and usually their intuition is correct. Usually, they only asked for information out of common courtesy. Of course I hadn't slept—Taellor knew that before he had even rolled over to look at me. "How are you holding up?" he asked, pulling himself up to a sitting position. The cool colors of nighttime complemented his entire being perfectly. His lean, battle worn chest peeked out of the blanket, dark hair almost metallic looking as it fell in front of his shoulders. And his eyes, always glowing in the moonlight like a feline's…
"I-I'm fine," I responded poorly. "The circumstances could be better…"
"That's for certain," the elf grumbled, throwing a side glance out of the entrance.
"I'm sorry you have to deal with…that," I whispered carefully.
Taellor sighed. "The comments, I suppose I can handle. But if Gregor doesn't quit the shameless looks and lustful glances toward you, I may be sharpening my daggers with his bones in the near future."
"I'm glad I'm not the only one who noticed," I mentioned.
"His aura makes me gag," Taellor announced straight-forwardly. I chuckled a bit, smiling as Taellor grinned the slightest.
"But really, Taellor, I'm terribly glad and relieved you're here. I don't think I'd want anyone else here to…protect me, really…"
Taellor's face contorted in confusion. "And what of…Zen?"
Grimacing, I looked down. "I don't want him in danger. He was too close."
The Night Elf breathed quietly until he finally shook his head. "I'm afraid I'm not following."
"Um…" I swallowed audibly. How come I could explain my choices over and over to myself, and make is sound like I was justified, and now, in front of Taellor, I couldn't even find my words? "In life, there are things that matter," I tried to breathe, "and things that matter more."
"Zen didn't matter…as much?"
"No," I corrected, "Zen's…safety…mattered. His life mattered more to me…than my happiness."
Taellor paused, my words settling in between our sleeping cots. "We've all had to make sacrifices. I'm afraid, however, that yours are some of the heaviest sacrifice for our people, Grace. To not even have complete control over your mind…"
The crossovers. To this day, I still marvel at the complexity of my gift or curse…and I have yet to draw the thin line between its benefits and disadvantages.
I closed my eyes tight, exhaustion attempting to take control. "Grace?"
"Sorry, it's just…I haven't been able to…open up to anyone lately, it's…" A warmth streaked down my cheek, and when my hand went to investigate, I realized I was crying. "It's almost overwhelming." My head was starting to hurt again. Taellor's aura warmed with worry as I grabbed at my head. "I'm being emotional…I think it triggers my crossovers."
His long hand went to my own atop my head, his other hand feeling my forehead and then sliding down to rest at the base of my neck.
Taellor's touch felt familiar and foreign at the same time—my aura flared at the contact, a mix of unexplainable excitement and cautiousness traveling up my spine. I prayed to all that was holy he didn't catch the interest in my aura, but Taellor froze in place, suddenly on edge like a cat.
I panicked, my headache leaving me a bit scattered for an explanation. "Taellor, I-"
"Do you sense that?" he asked in a low growl. The dangerousness in his voice had me freeze all thoughts and movements as well.
My mind focused the slightest, even as I blinked away streaks of blue in my vision. I felt it now—the unmistakable omen of darkness.
"Undead…"
The group approaching reeked of the burning stench of Scourge. Taellor and I shared a look of understanding just as Vii came barreling into the cave, a look of determination masking his panic. "They come," he announced.
Taellor nodded, immediately turning to Gregor's still form and laying a good smack on the priest's shoulder. "Let's go, holy man. It's time for a fight!"
In a hurry I reached for my shoulder pads, the belt that attached them to my armor suddenly very difficult to fasten under pressure.
Graystone snored himself awake as Gregor and Taellor tried to ready themselves as well. "Fight?" Graystone barked, fumbling for his armor violently.
"I'm going to go out there," Vii announced quickly. "They were moving in fast, we must hurry."
"I'm coming." Gregor was ready, his clothed figure quickly following Vii outside despite his drowsy circumstances. His body swayed from the jolt awake, and his staff nearly knocked Graystone's pauldrons off during his exit.
"How many?" asked Taellor.
I shook my head. "More than a dozen."
"They feel tolerable." His daggers slid into their sheathes as Taellor spoke calmly.
"They've surprised me before," I growled, ready to spill some Undead blood.
"Hey." Taellor became a stern parent with the single word. "Be cautious out there."
"Taellor, if I was a cautious rogue most of my career, I would be a dead rogue by now," I insisted, finally dressed and ready for combat.
We stepped out of the snow bank, which was now breaking down and caving from the heavy traffic. The cold was normally a stinger in the daytime, and in the dead of the night, it was enough to cause loss of breath. Our group was at the ready, and our puffs for air were noticeable in the air as we waited.
The army of about twenty Undead beings were charging with a hurried pace, and most of them carried a weapon of choice. A few even held a shield.
Kae glanced at his Uncle. "Are these the Lich King's supposed knights?" he asked in bemusement.
"No," both Vii and I answered as I recalled what the favorites of the Lich King looked like—icy blue eyes aglow, with alarmingly life-like forms. "These are merely Undead shells with weapons," Vii explained.
Blizz was first to charge, her feral growl ripping past my ears. Taellor and Kae managed to knock a few over with mean arrows. Gregor forcefully stabbed his staff into the snow and began to chant in foreign tongues, hands crafting a brilliant ball of Light.
Graystone ran ahead, his axe swinging from shoulder to shoulder as the Dwarf grunted a loud roar. His blade swung quick for how heavy it was, and it effectively sliced and knocked three of the enemies to the ground. Vii conjured another of his consecrations just as the bodies hit the snow. The smell of burnt dead flesh met my nostrils as Taellor and I began our own battles. I was busy with a particular zombie who hid behind a shield as Taellor was approached by two others.
I couldn't break past the pesky shield, and the irritating skeleton continued to poke and prod at me with his sword as he remained protected. I was busy parrying one of his stabs and even managed to disarm him when the creature mustered enough strength to thrust his shield at me, the large object bashing into my chest and knocking me over. My dagger in my off hand slipped and fell to my feet, and breathless, I found myself trying to avoid another impact with the shield while also trying to find my weapon. Before I could register what happened, Blizz's gigantic form was pouncing on the solider, knocking his shield loose as her fangs sank into his raw neck.
And I would have grabbed my dagger then, except that a group of Undead was distracting me to my left. Fearfully, I realized Taellor was stuck amidst them. Mesmerized, I watched Taellor's graceful form as he remained calm. The being to his back he managed to knock over with his elbow, and his attention immediately turned to the other two in front of him. Painfully, I clenched my ribs as I tried to pull myself up, my eyes remaining on Taellor as he repeatedly blocked one attack in time to dodge another.
But the third attacker was back on his feet, and Taellor's daggers were locked in front of him. Whimpering, I made a split decision to grab the shield at my feet, my main dagger now sheathed so I could pull myself onto my feet.
I went sprawling to his aid, a pitiful growl slipping though my mouth that was meant to be a call to Taellor.
The shield was heavier than expected, but I managed to put myself between the Night Elf and Undead soldier in time to stop a blow with the massive shield. However, the sword forced my newly acquired buffer out of my hands and onto the ground, the screech of metal on metal ringing in my ears. Taellor turned at my presence, still busy with the other pair but now easily distracted by my racket.
Without the shield, I was able to draw my weapons and fight the monster, and to make it even better, I was open for attack. My hands quickly moved to my sheathes, but I only pulled out my main dagger, and it took me a moment to remember the weapon's counterpart was still behind me abandoned in the snow.
Taellor was still fighting behind me as the enemy swung his sword with maximum strength, perhaps hoping to reach Taellor's figure as well, and my undersized dagger was barely able to parry the blow—I was actually worried my blade would snap.
I wasn't accustomed to a naked off hand. The creature went to backhand me with his opposite appendage as well, our blades interlocked and forgotten, and its gleaming porcelain fingers were streaking across the space between us. I couldn't jump back—Taellor's fight was right behind me. Opting for the next outcome, I tried pulling my defenseless arm away from the line of fire, ribs burning at the hop, but it was too late. A muffled cry escaped my throat as the cut landed across my abdomen, where the leather was weakest. Even with the armor, the cut left a good scratch into my skin—I felt the tear of flesh and the unmistakable feeling of warm blood trickle from the wound. It stung a little bit, especially in the cold night, but I couldn't focus on that at the moment.
Two could play that dirty game—with a grunt I swung my fist as hard as I could, making contact on his jaw. It crunched under the impact, his body reeling back with the force. "I'll be feeling that in the morning," I grumbled, shaking my hand in an attempt to rid of the throbbing in my knuckles. It felt like my whole body had taken a hard beating, but I couldn't stop now. As the monster stumbled backward, I freed my dagger and landed a good stab into his chest, being sure to push as deep as I could and turn the hilt. It oozed thick, coagulated blood as the Undead being staggered to the ground, finally lifeless in the snow.
Taellor had finished off one of his other opponents, leaving him with a one on one battle he could easily handle. I stooped a moment, catching my breath as I felt around my surroundings. Most of the Undead were now lifeless (for good this time), and we were no longer outnumbered. I used my arm to cover my abdomen as I dragged myself to the place I had lost my dagger; at first, I couldn't see it in the snow. The silver caught in the moonlight, however, and I had to hold my breath and hold back a moan as I bent over to pick the weapon up out of the snow.
When I turned back around to view the battle, almost everything had calmed down. Two monsters were left, and they were quickly rid of when Vii commanded a seal of Light upon their wretched bodies.
Smiling, Taellor surveyed our victory as well, probably checking for injuries just as everyone else was. Blizz's mouth was colored in red, but it was most likely not her own. Everyone else seemed unscathed as well, besides spatters of blood and the occasional bruise.
And then there was me, huffing and bleeding from a slash. Taellor turned to me finally, and his smile of relief slipped from his face. "Grace!"
"It's okay," I insisted, wincing as Taellor ran to my side and tried to move the arm that was covering my real injury.
Everyone else had now realized my condition, and now everyone was rushing to see my mess for themselves. "Is this from their claws?" asked Taellor, who gingerly tried to lift the armor off the affliction and received a cry of pain from me anyway.
"Yeah…I had to help you somehow," I defended.
Taellor growled, cringing as he looked it over. "Grace," he breathed.
"I think I bruised my ribs, too," I grumbled, "or cracked them. I can hardly breathe."
"You shouldn't have fought," Taellor mentioned, almost sounding as if he was chastising himself for my injury.
"It was fight or let you die," I growled. "Give me some credit."
Vii chuckled. "Roguette's a fighter, Taellor. Her aura says 'approach with caution'."
Taellor shrugged. "The most truthful statement you've stated thus far, Viishunari." I frowned, still in pain but interested in the fact that the one thing Vii and Taellor were agreeable upon was me. "Gregor, do you think maybe you could heal some of this?" asked Taellor.
Gregor approached, his staff without a touch of blood as he set it down beside me. "I may be able to cover the slashes, but my energy may not be well enough for the internal damage…"
"It's fine," I insisted yet again. "Gregor, if you could just…stop the bleeding. Some of the pain. I don't want anyone wasting more energy on me than needed."
"Chivalry has no room in a rogue's baggage," snipped Taellor, who kept the armor off my skin as Gregor inspected the bloody gashes further.
"What of the poisons?" asked Gregor. "They supposedly have very toxic effects…but I see no necrotizing of the skin or anything…"
I shook my head. "In my experience, I've never seen anyone catch the plague through contact with their claws. It's their bite. And anyway, I've been exposed to this toxin many times, Gregor. Perhaps I'm immune by now?" Gregor eyed me suspiciously, actually worrying me for a moment. Could he be trying to detect a sign of treachery within me? "I mean, I'm still myself. The poison isn't within me anymore, but it had been coursing through my veins at some point. Perhaps I've developed immunity."
"Perhaps," Gregor admitted. "We will keep a close eye on your wounds, Grace." With that statement, the priest hovered his hand over my stomach, again muttering exotic chants beneath his breathe as everyone watched. The warmth touched my abdomen, immediately soothing the scratches and stretching to cover the bloody mess. When his hand lifted, only a collection of large scars remained, still pink around the edges from the inflammation. "There."
"Much better," I sighed as Taellor pulled my armor back down carefully. It still hurt to breathe, but I could manage that without worrying about bleeding out.
"Do you suppose they were after me?" I asked with concern. I didn't hear the Lich King that time…no warning, no pull.
"I doubt it," Vii answered. "If he wanted the job done correctly, he would send stronger…things. Those stumbled on us by chance, without the Lich King pulling their strings or ordering our deaths."
"They were unruly; probably meant to simply roam Northrend and kill the living while raising the Undead," Taellor added.
"Good." I had feared perhaps the Lich King had found me, and that would have compromised everything I was working for.
"Let's move out," Vii insisted. "The stench will attract some uninvited guests."
After we packed, Taellor had to help me lift onto Whiplash's back, and it felt really uncomfortable atop the horse, but I swallowed the pain and trudged onward.
We tried to push the pace—Whiplash was a bit livelier, but it was still a couple hours until dawn and everyone was beyond exhaustion. I still hadn't slept at all, and my body was now fed up and punishing me for it.
"So, the Lich King is really working on a bunch of super-knights?"
"I've heard he calls them death knights," Vii responded. "The disappearances have been linked to the growing number of his new gladiators."
Vii might have said more, but I was now lost in thought. Of course, I had inferred all of this information before, but hearing the name death knight…it sent a feeling of chilling realization down my spine.
The disappearances. So Lucas could very well be under the Lich King's command.
All I knew was that I couldn't lose anyone else in my life.
If we traveled through the night non-stop, we'd make it to the camp by midday. I didn't know what we were to do once we arrived; at the moment I was more concerned with rest—the last thing I had wanted the past day, and now I wanted nothing else. Oh, how fate loved to torture me so.
About halfway, the snow morphed into formidable sheets of ice. Whether from natural or magical origin, it was a thorn in our side. Whiplash slipped, nearly hurting herself before I decided to dismount her.
Taellor and the others followed my lead shortly after. "Think it will melt?" asked Taellor, grasping his mount's reigns tightly as he looked the ice over.
"I could try, but the ice is thick—by the time I melt it, we could be across."
Taellor was the first to tread on the new surface, his lean figure tense as he attempted to get his bearings. His third step was shaky—Taellor had to halt his process, his rogue agility helping him remain on his two feet.
"You're slightly out of your element, I suppose, elf?" Vii asked the rogue with a chuckle.
Even from behind Taellor, I could tell his face fell as he grew rigid yet again. "Coming from the alien who fell out of the sky?" Taellor countered smoothly, his large ears pulled back in irritation.
"Ouch," I announced in a hum, causing Taellor to chuckle.
"Bets on the first ass hittin' the ice?" challenged Graystone, who charged onto the ice like a…well, big-headed warrior.
"If I had to bet, I'd say…you, Graystone," I answered.
Kae laughed, body turning to view the rest of us to his right. "Agreed."
"I don't know…Taellor's looking wobbly," called Gregor, who used his staff for balance as we treaded softly.
"I don't gamble," Taellor grumbled, even as he sat perched on top of the ice like a cat trying to stay out of water.
I managed to stay on my feet, but some others weren't as lucky. Namely Graystone, who landed with a smack while he took a long swig from his flask. Gregor and Vii boomed with laughter, the sound infectious and causing me to chuckle as well.
Everyone, in our sleep-deprived, adrenaline-filled, wary states, seemed jollier and easier to get along with. It was like we all had our own personal dose of whatever was in Graystone's canteen.
We mounted again, Whiplash finally able to walk normally, but the outrageousness of our group continued the remaining way.
The sun rose, and the little warmth it came with arrived as well. I stayed hydrated, and had two snacks before we finally came upon the encampment. It was stuffed between two ridges, and a single structured building, held together by thin logs, sat lonely in the center. The rest of the camp was tents—large tents as well as smaller ones intended for use as sleeping quarters.
As we drew closer we also drew more attention. There didn't seem to be very much going on at the makeshift base—a dozen or so men were now gathered in front of the wooden building, curiosity keeping their eyes glued on our group.
Obviously, we appeared friend rather than foe—two Draeneis flanked by a pair of humans as well as a Dwarf and Night Elf were definitely an advertisement for the Alliance cause.
We walked our mounts into the base, Whiplash dragging her hooves. "I know, girl," I whispered, running my hand through her mane.
"Greetings, friends!" Vii called as we drew closer.
"We come in peace," mumbled Taellor sarcastically. I giggled a bit too loudly, and the force panged at my bruised ribs.
"State your business!" called the man in the center. He was very young and cautious as Vii approached to speak on our behalf. He was most likely another warrior, but my attention span was quickly waning as exhaustion controlled the movement of my body.
Vii explained our attack, even as I swayed on my feet in tiredness. Taellor had to brace me from behind to prevent me from collapsing and napping right there in the snow.
I couldn't pay attention. The next moment I recalled, Taellor was pulling me back, leading me into one of the small tents and grabbing my cot and blanket for me.
His nimble fingers lit a lantern to my side, and the warmth was becoming an invitation to sleep. "But I have to speak with…the man in charge!" I argued.
"Vii's taking care of it. So rest up."
"Taellor…"
"I'm going to help him, Grace. Then I'll come back to check up on you."
"Taellor." My hand grabbed his so he would stop fussing like a mother and actually listen to me for once. "You're beautiful," I announced with a bit of a slur.
The male Night Elf raised his eyebrows, lips pulled into a tight smirk. "Has Graystone spiked your water canteen?"
"Taellor," I growled, now barely able to keep my eyes open. "You've helped me so much, even when I didn't want the help. I didn't…think I'd ever be here…in this position…right now."
Taellor chuckled lightly in amusement. "Well, if that was a compliment, I'll take it. And I know you feel like you're being spread thin, but there are people here to support you, including me."
By then, my eyes wouldn't stay open any longer, and an array of dreamscapes was now filling my head as my imagination took me away.
"Sleep, Grace." Taellor's lips kissed my forehead, the touch just gentle enough that I wasn't sure if it was real or part of my dreams.
I rolled over as Taellor stood to leave. "Taellor?"
His aura spiked in curiosity once more. "Yes?"
"Do you think a Human and a Night Elf…could ever fall in love and…be able to have children?"
Taellor chuckled. "Someone definitely needs their sleep."
"Just a…thought-provoking…thought."
"Goodnight, Grace…"
Sleep was pleasant. Perhaps it was how stress-free I had been prior to my slumber. It wouldn't last long—the stress of my life wasn't going to stay away for long. When I awoke, the wind was flapping at the tent's canvas, but it was still daylight. I sat up too fast—a stabbing pain shot through my lungs, and it hurt to gasp in pain. It always perplexed me: why do they tell you to sleep off injuries when you always wake up in worse shape?
With difficulty I steadied my breathing, and I contemplated if I should (or could) get up and try to find the others. But I couldn't just lay here. Especially if my brother was in trouble.
So with as deep of a breath I could muster, I leaned forward and painfully pulled my body up off the sleeping cot. Just standing on my two feet was leaving me out of breath.
Like an old man I hobbled toward the exit. Each movement hurt like hell, but if I concentrated on my feet, I could make it.
It was so close now. I reached forward, clambering for the flaps, when suddenly the cloth was pulled open, and in walked Gregor.
"Oh," I piped, caught off guard by his appearance.
Frowning, Gregor looked me over before finally locking eyes. "Grace, no need to be up and about. Please lay down!"
I nearly growled. "But Gregor, they need me! Taellor-"
I tried not to notice Gregor's aura shift at the mention of the fellow rogue. "Taellor is helping Vii as they brainstorm with the others. They're looking at different possible leads. Taellor sent me to check up on you."
"Oh…" Gregor took another step inside, causing me to retreat back. "Please, Grace—have a seat. Lay back. He wanted me to take a look at your wound."
As much as I would rather have had Taellor inspect the slice, Gregor was the specialist. With defeat I gingerly laid back down, eyeing Gregor as he approached.
My senses seemed…off. Something just wasn't right, and it was making me uneasy around the sandy-haired priest.
"Something bothering you?" Gregor asked as he cautiously knelt at the bedside.
"N…no. No, I'm fine. Just…tired," I lied.
"Ah. Now that's understandable. Has there been any changes in your state? With the Lich King?"
"You mean, has he gotten a hold of me? I'm fairly certain if he was controlling my mind…you'd be dead right now."
Gregor cleared his throat awkwardly, allowing me to fidget in frustration. I wanted to get out of here. "Any severe changes in mood?"
"No."
"Strange sensations? Burning, tingling, numbing…?"
"Nope."
"Change in temper?"
"Oh, it's getting there," I grumbled. I just wanted to find Taellor and Vii. And anyway, I would know if things were changing within me. I didn't need a priest to figure it out for me.
"Grace, we need your cooperation."
"You have it, Gregor. I need yours as well." Quickly I went to lift myself off the cot and hopefully dismiss the silly holy man, but his arm braced me and caused a slight pang around my abdomen. Growling, I slumped back onto the mattress.
Gregor nodded curtly. "Mind if I take a look at your wound first?"
Well, I did mind. A lot. But if it was going to keep Gregor from breathing down my neck, then fine. "Go ahead."
As I attempted to lay down as comfortable as possible, Gregor's hands raised the piece of my tunic covering the potentially fatal wound. His fingers traced the etches now patterned into my skin, his touch leaving an icy chill across my abdomen. Once again, the priest's aura was warming with interest, and even his eyes seemed…engaged.
My body stiffened as I sucked in a breath and quivered under his touch. "My apologies…my hands must be as cold as Northrend itself!" Gregor exclaimed, though his eyes were still focused on my stomach. I tried to ignore it when Gregor's hand traced my abdomen, lightly brushing my skin until his hand rested on my hipbone. And still, I didn't know how to react. I could read Gregor's aura—and, ultimately, his intentions—clearly. But my female self just didn't know how to react.
"It's a pity your body must be mutilated so much in battle," Gregor hummed. "This new scar, plus the bite mark…." His other hand went to trace the crescent shape along my neck.
Being a female rogue had its perks most of the time. I had a female/maternal instinct as well as an instinctual, animalistic rogue instinct. Most of the time, they fed off of each other. And sometimes, the two sides caused even more chaos with their different statics.
I tried to remain calm, but SI:7 never trained me for scenarios like this. With Gregor on top of me, there was definitely a different kind of danger I was stepping into. There was a part of me that actually enjoyed the thought of intimacy…but with Gregor? Like this?
Before I could decipher my feelings, Gregor's mouth was hovering above my neck, his hot breath causing goosebumps. "I find myself…very drawn to you, Grace." As Gregor spoke, his lips grazed my skin, and my breathing rate increased.
"I..I don't…"
"Would you like me to show you?" he inquired, the hand at my hip tightening in grip as his mouth nipped above my bite mark.
"No," I announced, suddenly aware of the danger. I couldn't do this. Having Gregor's attention was flattering, but I knew I didn't want this for me. How could I go through this when my heart was somewhere else—probably roaming the Eastern Kingdom somewhere on special missions? "Gregor, I don't want…"
"How do you know unless you try?" he whispered, again biting at my neck. His hands locked me in place, one arm pinned to my hip as his other was planted by my face.
My female instincts knew what came next, and my rogue instincts knew if I didn't act, Gregor would continue to take advantage of me, and that wasn't going to happen. Aradar had taught me well with his lessons in trust: nothing is black and white, bad or good to a rogue—and always value what your rogue instincts are guiding you towards.
And right now, my rogue instincts were telling me to put a stop to this before something happened that I would regret. "No," I growled, forcefully tugging my left hand away so that Gregor's body weight forced him nearly on top of me. With my right side momentarily free I was able to land a knee right into his groin. Gregor gasped, the wind knocked out of him for a few good moments. I had enough time to rock my body and his off the cot and onto the floor, my body finally free.
Growling at the incessant pain in my chest, I pinned Gregor's body to the floor and straddled him, his breath still arriving in gasps as he grimaced in pain. My right hand managed to find one of my daggers. The priest below me realized what I had grasped too late—the dagger was instantly pressed to his throat.
Forget the fact that I was just now almost taken terribly advantaged of—I was more concerned with the dimwit caught below my dagger. "Allow me to bestow upon you some valuable information," I began. "Just because I look weak doesn't mean I am," I growled, even though my lungs felt like they were to set on fire. "And most importantly, I'm very disappointed in you." My voice managed to calm the slightest, maybe since the action had dwindled and I could finally catch my breath and relax. "Just because other women and girls fall for your games doesn't mean I will. I actually respect you, Gregor. As a priest and soldier. But I'm not even going to begin to delve into the fact that you are supposed o be an upright, honorable priest of the Alliance. I'm going to let you go, but if you ever—and I do mean ever touch me again, I can assure you that every single bone in that body of yours will be displaced and shattered. Do you understand?"
Gregor, still shocked, grew pale before nodding. "I understand."
"You're lucky I don't report what you've done to Fordring."
"Grace I never meant to-"
"Save it." Skillfully I stood up, freeing Gregor to slide to a sitting position. "Just leave, Gregor."
He seemed torn between opening his mouth to speak and opening the tent's flap, but after a brief pause, he listened. Poor Gregor scurried away like a frightened kobold, his long garment hindering his movement as he left.
I stood in silence for a moment, closing my eyes and attempting to calm my thoughts. I wasn't going to stride outside and kill Gregor. And I wasn't going to cry. I had to remain balanced.
When I felt stable enough, I geared up and went searching for Vii and Taellor. "Grace!" Kae was waving me over to the main building. "Just in time! Vii and Taellor were about to summon you."
Summon? Kae led me into the small fort, where a large table with chairs was set up. The same man we had met upon arrival here was seated with Vii, Taellor, and a few other men.
Kae held back as I entered the room of men alone. At my arrival, Taellor stood, causing both Vii and the warrior to look over at the cause of commotion. "Grace!" Taellor smiled. "Second Lieutenant Krass would like to meet you," he explained as he motioned towards the warrior being addressed. "Krass, this is Grace Fulstorm."
Officer Krass smiled at me, reaching out to shake my hand. "Ms. Fulstorm. I wanted to tell you how well-liked your brother was as our leader. He was…an astonishing warrior of the crusade."
"Thank you," I responded. "He's…the reason for our visit actually. We were…"
"I'm well informed of your plights, Ms. Fulstorm," Kass acknowledged grimly. "I have little information to give. Only that we were attacked weeks ago, and that our strongest…the Scourge took them."
"Do you think my brother could be alive?" Krass lowered his gaze in response, causing a small amount of panic to quell at my heart. "Do you have any ideas as to where the Lich King could be based?"
"No one has ever been able to pinpoint his whereabouts. His army…seems to constantly be on the move. I'm…I'm sorry I can't be of much help."
I bit my lip, my frustration rising. Nowhere to go…no leads…
"Grace, I'd like to show you…where Lieutenant Fulstorm slept."
Surprised, I looked up in interest. "Please."
Lucas' tent was a bit larger than some of the others. Tears were forming under my eyes before I even entered the tent. "I'll leave you alone," murmured Krass.
I held my breath as I ducked and entered. Lucas' things were strewn on a table on one side. The other side was occupied by his cot. There was nothing out of the ordinary within the room, but the notion that my brother had been here…
And now he wasn't. Covering my mouth to stifle my crying, I sat on his cot and drew my legs into my chest. "Lucas…"
His presence still lingered, as if any moment he could barrel back into the tent and pick up where he left off.
Near his bed was a chain necklace, a signet of the alliance dangling from the silver. They must have been attacked in the middle of the night….the sheets were all strewn, the necklace forgotten beside the bed. I picked it up carefully, afraid it would disappear at my touch. But the silver chain was cool in my hand, the blue and gold of our alliance swinging as I looked over the piece.
I placed it around my neck, chills forming as it contacted my skin. It was a long while before I could dry my eyes and leave the tent. I sat down with Vii and Taellor shortly after. "Lucas…was my best friend," I explained softly. "I can't lose him. I want…" I trailed off, wiping newly formed tears.
Vii's demeanor seemed to soften, his lips pulling into a slight grimace. "Rogue…Grace, we just don't know our next move…"
I closed my eyes, momentarily trying to clear my thoughts and find a meaningful idea. "I know," I admitted. "I know. I just…if I-"
"No," Taellor snapped, as if he guessed what I would be suggesting. "No more intentional crossovers, Grace."
"Taellor," I grumbled. "You've officially gone from acting like my mother to acting like Zen."
That made Taellor's aura perk up. "It's weakening your mind, Grace."
"That's exactly what Zen would say," I growled.
"Well, Zen must surely care for you, then!" Taellor countered.
If there was one thing Taellor possessed over Zen, it was a shorter fuse to a temper. And he definitely had a harder time hiding said temper under his aura.
"Your body has been weakened as well," the Night Elf continued anyway. "You're really pushing the limits. I can't protect you from your thoughts."
If I could have, I would have breathed a large sigh. Stupid lungs. Instead, I sat there, staring at the wooden patterns in the table's finish as I held my forehead in my hand, unable to speak.
"I'll write to our base," Vii suggested. "Perhaps Fordring has heard of new information or leads...we'll have to stay a few days for a reply, but…" Vii got up, more silently than I would have anticipating from a Draenei. When he left, I could feel Taellor's eyes gazing intently at me. Trying to read me.
"I need you…to be a friend right now, Taellor."
He sighed deeply in pity. "Grace, that's exactly what I'm doing." I pursed my lips, once again speechless. "Give it a rest these couple days, Grace. We need to lay low for a bit." Taellor left with that, his hand patting my shoulder gently before he disappeared. Begrudgingly I stood, pain shooting through my chest.
I was three steps out of the building when I sensed Gregor's obvious presence. It really took all of my effort not to turn back around. Taellor's aura was easily picked up a stone's throw away, and without looking for him I knew he was eave's dropping out of curiosity.
"It's…it's okay." Gregor held his hands up in a peace offering."I…simply wanted to apologize…for my actions earlier. I was…completely out of line. And I know you have no reason to accept my apology or even believe me, but I am sorry and I have the highest respect for you."
I was fairly good at reading people, and Gregor seemed honest enough. "It's fine, Gregor. Thank you for confronting the issue. It means a lot."
Gregor smiled, a hand extending. "Friends?"
I shook his hand, returning the grin. "Friends."
The next day felt so long. We were awaiting a reply from Fordring, meanwhile unable to really do anything helpful to our search.
Oh, and then there was the storm that had caught up with us. Thankfully, the small troop could keep sheltered within the sturdy main building. It was a whole lot better than a snow for or a floppy tent.
And I actually obeyed Taellor's request to avoid intentional crossovers. To obey wasn't an intention of mine, either, but with the storm, I couldn't get away from the elf to try.
It was two days later, and the storm had settled the slightest, but was still a hazard. And to add to it, my chest was still throbbing and panging. Oh, and Fordring hadn't replied back.
I don't remember much beforehand, except that I was at the table in the big building, attempting to let the time move faster. Taellor was across from me. I was beginning to feel more at ease with—well, myself in general. Taellor had helped me in trusting others with my talents once again, and as soon as the storm would wane and we heard news, we were going to leave and search for Lucas more. And, the headaches and pressure were much lessened. Perhaps I was growing a strange resistance against the Lich King's pull?
Anyway, I was sitting across from Taellor, and he was smiling, and I couldn't help but think about Zen's smile, when a black curtain dropped in front of my eyesight. It was as quick as a snap of my fingers, and the sounds around me vanished as well, replaced with ominous silence.
Then it was as if my eyes had reopened, except I actually hadn't shut them at all, and somewhere deep inside me I knew who had reached out to me.
These were the death knights. Hundreds of them, ready for a good fight. The power and the magnitude of the Lich King's coldness nearly took me over as his hatred and thirst for bloodshed became mine.
Everything is in place, he thought to me, enjoying his control over me. The fall of the living is at the tip of my sword, and you are invited.
Hundreds of eyes were beginning to glow an icy blue, and my urge to leave his consciousness spiked. Get me out…
Did you think the living stood a chance? he asked rhetorically. As if your soldiers of the Light could vanquish undeath. Where are your champions now?
I don't know if I pulled myself out of there or if he let me go, but everything came back in a click. Taellor looked scared to death. I had somehow slid out of the chair during the vision, and now my skull above my right ear was throbbing as Taellor's arms kept me from slouching over. "Grace."
"He's made it there, Taellor!" I blurted. "The Lich King is going to attack the chapel grounds any moment! Taellor helped me up. "Fording…he needs to know. We have to-"
"Grace, it would take days to make it back to the base!"
I was half-listening as Taellor followed me out the door and into the eerily quiet, windless outdoors. "But he still has to…we might have time!"
"Grace, stop-"
By now, the ruckus had drawn Vii an Kae as they arrived in the center of the camp. "What's wrong?" inquired the older Draenei inquired.
"Oh, by the Light," I growled.
"Grace had a vision. The Lich King's on the prowl in the Western Plaguelands."
"We have to tell Fordring, at least," I encouraged. "Maybe send reinforcements. He could…"
"Grace, Fordring isn't at the Pinnacle's base," Taellor explained as he cut me off.
I paused, realization of his words settling in. "Where is he?" I asked, nearly in a panic.
"A letter arrived yesterday. From an officer at the Pinnacle. General Fordring left for the Plaguelands…shortly after our departure."
Another blink. My palms were sweaty within their gloves as my confusion tried to re-orient itself. "Yesterday," I repeated. "And when was I going to find out?" I yelled, clenching fists.
Vii and Taellor exchanged careful glances, and I actually grew hurt. "The storm was still brewing, and we needed a plan before-"
"Before telling me?" I countered. "Before I had the chance to make a plan of action myself?"
I paced back and forth, torn between worry and anger and betrayal. "There's hundreds. Fordring…" Finally I stopped, facing a concerned Night Elf and Draenei. "I need to go to the Plaguelands," I announced.
"Grace, it's a week away. By the time-"
"I'll portal. Hearth. I don't know. But I could be a big help, Taellor. You know that. A big help…" I was very fidgety now, my legs wanting to pace as another silence lapsed. I could sense the hesitation as it tinged at everyone's auras. "There's a fight halfway across our world, and it's my fight."
"But Grace…"
"I'm following my heart, Taellor! You know we both belong there!"
Taellor's aura backed down, and for a moment it reminded me of the night Zen turned away, leaving me to do my own will—and I slipped through the night and left his side. Taellor's hand reached deep within his breast pocket until he finally pulled out a small stone. "If one of us belongs there, it's you," he insisted. "Take my hearth stone." The magic of the gray slate was glaring off its surface; it must have cost a lot to obtain. A sadness clouded Taellor's eyes as he grew unwilling to accept a loss. His eyes were on me, however, even as he straightened his arm to hand me his stone. "Grace, please…"
Taellor…
I hesitated, eyes moving from the blue colored hand to Taellor's eyes. Could I leave another behind in search of contentment?
"Oh please, stop it you two," Vii growled. "Don't be ridiculous." In a blink his large hand was cupping a stone of his own. "Grace, take mine. You two can both go. You're meant to be together."
Taellor and I exchanged glances, and without a thought I accepted Vii's offer. "Thank you so much," I exhaled.
"Just be careful with the magic. It's not bound to the chapel, so you're going to have to be extra controlling with its magic."
I nodded. I had two successful hearths under my belt; what's a third?
"And I expect it to be returned, of course," added the Draenei, who winked as he spoke.
"As soon as possible, Vii," I promised. Vii slapped me on the shoulder, his display of friendliness nearly causing my knees to buckle. Then he turned to Taellor, who smiled.
The Draenei and Night Elf grasped each other's hands in a strong shake. "Until we meet again, my alien-friend," teased Taellor.
"Go with the Light, tree-hugger."
"Thanks again, Vii," I said.
"Ready, Grace?"
I focused on two things as I clutched the small, cool stone in my hands: breathing, and the Chapel of Light. Please get me there…
The green light was present even with my eyes closed, and the rock I clutched was quickly warming. A sick, nauseous feeling began to pull at my stomach, and the feeling of my body being stretched and dismembered and rearranged took over. Right when it worsened, and my vocal chords were ready to scream in pain, it stopped, and the green energy disappeared.