Hello readers! I am back! I have recently gotten my registered nurse license and am looking for a job...so meanwhile...:p
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And I failed to mention before...a disclaimer...in some chapters I incorporated dialogue that actually occured in-game...I DON'T OWN THESE. Don't sue me.
Rival
Book Nine, Part One
Zen was definitely not supposed to be here, and it could definitely, probably, mean trouble. But I didn't want this to be a dream—I felt a relief and a happiness wash over me, and while it was nice to feel relief, it made me feel sick to know I could be feeling such happiness over my future demise.
"Zen," I stated; a tone in my voice couldn't be pinpointed as questions began to flood my thoughts. He wasn't looking at me at the moment—Fordring had cheerfully taken Zen's hand into a shake and was mumbling something about 'additional aid.' I turned to my right, expecting Taellor to mirror my expression of surprise, but the Night Elf had disappeared, probably to tend to Fordring's business.
Finally my general ran off, his recruits needing attention. And then Zen's green eyes were focused on me, and only me, his hand reaching out to take mine in greeting. "Grace," he offered simply. One of his smirks was painting his lips, and I couldn't tell if he was amused or simply pleased.
I couldn't move to shake his hand. "Why are you here?" I questioned bluntly. Panic bit at my throat as I recalled our last confrontation. This could be very bad news—I had gone absent without leave on Zen's watch back at Stormwind, and here he now was, smirking at me.
"I was reassigned to this base," he answered coolly. How I missed Zen's annoying, bemused attitude!
"You don't have to lie," I murmured, looking around. "I made the decision to leave. If you're here to take me back to Stormwind, I won't let you."
"I'm not here to arrest you, Grace," Zen stated. "I was assigned here."
"But-"
"Lieutenant Ashthorn." Both Zen and I turned as Fordring turned around to talk to Zen. "A bit of help with these new recruits?"
"Sir," Zen nodded. "We shall catch up tonight…" It was more of a statement as Zen left to assist Fordring.
"Lieutenant?" I whispered. How long had I been gone, anyway? It was just my fortune—I had succeeded in finding my brother, in finding where I was needed, and then Zen's presence got to throw a stick beneath my feet and trip me. And just when I had my feelings for him under control…
I didn't see anyone the remaining day. Too much was happening. Taellor was running errands, Gregor was helping his mentor, and I learned Vii and Kae had left to find even more recruits. I visited Whiplash, though. She seemed content in her stable as I brushed her.
Zen remained busy until well after nightfall. The temperatures again dropped, and Taellor had finally retired to our makeshift tent without a word my way as of yet. I, too, was about to call it a day and slip into the abode, when I spotted Zen striding to what I assumed to be his own little shelter.
I hesitated. It must have been a good few moments I stood outside Taellor's tent, debating on whether I should visit Zen.
The truth was that I missed him. My feelings for Zen were strong, and I thought I had made it clear to him before my departure. Zen and I wore each other out daily. We bickered. He always told me I could be better, and yet he never enjoyed how I risked my life.
But we changed each other. I got him to acknowledge that his feelings existed, and he taught me to monitor mine. And I adored him. For teaching me, for understanding…
In the darkness I padded to his tent, knowing that as soon as I was close Zen would read my aura's intentions. Again, I paused before his tent to gather my thoughts. So much had been left out of our last moment, so many words missing on my farewell letter.
Where had we been when I left? I tried not to instantly recall all of our moments together, but now they were pouring forth, meshing together and becoming one giant memory recollection.
He needed to understand. I moved to lift the tent flap open, but it was already pulled aside. Zen, illuminated by his lantern inside, greeted me with a small smile. "Come in, Grace."
My stomach was doing somersaults, and suddenly my mouth was dry. I slipped into the tent, trying to steady my breathing as Zen closed the flap.
"A lot has happened since you left," Zen whispered. He remained behind me, neither of us turning to face each other—perhaps he, too, was nervous about the confrontation.
"I noticed."
"I knew you would leave me," Zen added. It was a bit more distant, and his aura cooled the slightest. I tried not to get frustrated as I turned to face Zen after all these weeks—Zen was pulling back on his emotions again.
"I did not leave you," I stated in a low, desperate whisper. "Please understand…" He gazed directly at me, catching me off guard. "It was for the best. I was putting everyone else in danger. If the Lich King ever got a hold of me…"
"So you decided to travel so that you were right under his nose?" Zen questioned rhetorically, the heat returning to the words.
I wanted to cry and yell at the same time. I wished this would go smoothly—I would apologize, Zen would understand and forgive me, and we'd exchange laughs and hugs…but things were never easy with Zen. Perhaps that's what I found so appealing…
"Grace."
"I was not running from you," I declared. "I had to find Lucas," I choked stiffly. "Everything was caving in around me; I had to do something about it."
"We…were not… 'caving in,'" Zen hissed.
"There was never a 'we!'" I countered, my frustration seeping through the sentence. "You never let it turn into a we, Zen." When he said nothing, I decided to continue. "I'm sorry, Zen. But you know I belonged here. I had to find Lucas. And I did find him."
The rogue's eyes slid to mine. "Alive?"
My mouth pulled into a grimace. "He's a death knight…I was at Light's Hope…"
"I heard news of Light's Hope. I'm glad your recklessness and abandonment was worthwhile."
"Zen, can you please stop," I begged carefully.
Once again, I felt as if Zen would say nothing, but then his hand went to hide his face that betrayed his front of heartlessness. "You had me sick. I was…just stuck."
Relief flooded through my body. Tears again pricked at my eyes. "I could never forget about you, Zen. I tried to focus on vengeance and justice, but eventually I realized I would always have feelings. Not just things like hate and vengeance…but love and sacrifice."
"Grace…" His voice was soft and vulnerable again.
"Leaving you…was the hardest part," I insisted, speaking before Zen had a chance to chastise me. When Zen's body stiffened, my eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Zen, what...? I missed you…all I could do was…"
"Grace, please." The other rogue withdrew from my outreached hand, and I immediately halted mid-thought.
I bit my lip. There was a moment of silence. "Zen…I know you're angry with me." My hand again went to touch his wrist. "But I also know that your feelings-"
"Stop it, Grace," he finally growled. "I can't do this right now."
I could have tried to hide the shock now taking over my body, but Zen could read my aura better than almost anyone. "You can't…do this," I repeated, my fists actually curling into fists. "Then why am I here," I whispered more to myself, my gaze fixed to the dirty floor.
His chin jutted to the left as his eyes focused on the rough floor. "It's getting late, Grace."
My eyes rose, eyeing him intently, my anger almost coming forth as Zen was able to keep himself controlled like always. "You haven't changed," I snarled, pivoting to the tent's entrance and storming out.
I felt Zen's body following me, but I was now through with dealing with his distance.
"You're quite the advocate of change now," Zen shot back from behind me.
The cold air nearly caused me to choke through my new tears, and I then decided I was not done after all. Forcefully I spun around, breathe coming out in short, chilling puffs. "I've seen a lot," I snapped. "I've seen hell itself, Zen. I don't fear my emotions. Not anymore. I've learned to cherish passion, but you coward before it."
Zen's frame remained in place, feet hidden in the snow as his face remained steeled. His aura spoke more than his expression, anyway: shock.
I turned and walked to my tent, very aware that our scene outside had caught the attention of a few men in their tents.
Despite the cold, my face was warm where hot tears slipped over. Taellor was a few steps out of his tent when I arrived. Concern etched his face as he draped his arm over my hunched figure and led me into the safety of the tent.
How dare he. I was just starting to pull myself together.
"Grace…" Taellor's voice was soft and cautious as I raged within the tent. I paced back and forth, frustrated to the point of stifled growls. "Grace, are you okay?"
"No," I responded. "He didn't have to come here, Taellor, why is he here? Why now?"
"Please…" The tall elf was in front of me instantly, his arms bracing my own so I would face him.
"He shouldn't be here," I sputtered.
"It's okay-"
"It's not!" I argued, wiping the tears away bitterly. "He should have stayed gone," I growled. "I wish he never came here!"
Taellor pulled me into his chest, his huge body enveloping me and sheltering me from my problems.
"I think you're overreacting a little bit," Taellor whispered.
"Of course I am," I grumbled. "I'm a Human female."
The Night Elf chuckled lightly as he pulled me away the slightest to look me in the eyes. "Maybe you should sleep it off, Grace."
"But he'll still be here in the morning."
"And so will I."
That ridiculous feeling was coming back again. Last time, it had been in the Chapel of Light with Taellor, and now, we were in the sanctuary of our own tent, where no one would interrupt us…
Call it curiosity, or desperation, or frustration. But at the moment, I truly wanted it. To experience it if only once…
Taellor immediately picked up on my shift in focus, his eyes fixated on my own. His aura changed, but this time it was almost confusing—it warmed and spiked in curiosity, and yet it seemed to want to draw away from my own aura.
Whatever Taellor wanted, he didn't act upon it. The Night Elf was just as frozen as Zen had been moments earlier, ready to react to whatever was forthcoming.
My body leaned in towards Taellor's. His chin was nearly at the crown of my head, and I had to tilt my face completely upwards to remain elevated with his eyes. Finally, my lips were again in close proximity to his, and again I felt that unavoidable pull to Taellor. My breathing was shallow now—enticement had my senses in overdrive, my chest ready to collapse under all of the exhilaration.
It was my lips that brushed his first—it tickled across my skin and shot down my spine. The contact was nearly too much; but it was then Taellor who closed the gap, whose mouth locked onto my own and caused my breath to hitch into my throat and stop there.
We were frozen there a moment, undecided on how to continue from that instant contact. I think shock had both of our minds put on pause. But if felt so nice to feel wanted again, and so I pushed a bit onto Taellor's lips, asking wordlessly for more.
The elf's grip on my upper arms tightened the slightest, as if he was inwardly fighting himself over wants and desires. Much like my own dilemmas. My own hand went to Taellor's smooth cheekbone, my lips gliding across his bottom lip. Taellor's hesitation seemed to slip, his hand lifting to grasp my neck and pull me in closer as the kiss mercilessly deepened.
My mind had slipped away. It was my body that took control of me now as the pace quickened. Taellor's mouth explored my own, his motivations unclear as we stayed in each other's embrace. Taellor's tongue finally slipped into my own mouth, the intensity nearly causing my knees to buckle, when he abruptly pulled away and took a sharp breath inward.
"Grace."
My breathing was still irregular as he looked me over, concern in his eyes as we were momentarily silent.
"Grace, we're not…we can't…"
"I'm sorry," I trembled, still recuperating over what had just occurred. "I wasn't thinking, I…"
"It's okay, Grace," he whispered, almost grimacing. "You definitely need your rest."
"Taellor…"
The Night Elf led me to the cot, allowing me to get comfortable before he, too, curled up next to me. We said no more to each other that night—the silence had become our lullaby.
I didn't regret it. Yet. But that was because my mind refused to wrap around the concept of what I had just done. I had kissed Taellor. Had I chosen?
I awoke way too early, but the howling of the wind within the tent wouldn't let me get any more rest. As I sat up, I noticed Taellor was already awake and most likely running errands. Part of me was completely fine with lying there all day—I held my head in my hands, slouched and trying to block out what kind of consequences would come from last night.
It could have gone farther, I thought sarcastically, and then what?
And then what would it matter. Taellor was remarkable in many ways, and there wasn't anything about him that appalled me…
Zen. I cinched my eyes shut for a moment, stopping the thought right there. No. So instead I stood, adjusted my gear, and went to look for Taellor, Vii—anyone.
Yesterday's battle finally caught up to my body as I stepped carefully and looked about.
There seemed to be a new hype ringing around our base—soldiers hustled about, some building bigger fortresses, the framework already being pulled up.
Fordring was busy elsewhere, perhaps with Zen or Taellor.
I didn't want to see Zen today. Yesterday I had looked for him constantly, watching him and simply remembering everything I missed him for. But not today.
Besides, I had plenty more on my mind. Like Taellor, for instance.
Taellor was busy, of course, but still he seemed to go out of his way to avoid me. It was as if Taellor and Zen rested on opposite sides of a delicate scale—once I got close to one, it would tip the scale. And never in my favor.
I had finally approached Taellor, wishing to talk to someone. I watched with interest as he monitored the situations above us—beams were being lifted and set on other beams. "We're busy already," I commented. Taellor wasn't surprised at my presence (damn rogue senses), but he did seem agitated at what we both could pick up—Zen's aura.
"Fordring wants us expanding as soon as possible," he explained. "He senses activity right past the crevice…"
"Crevice?"
"Right past that opening in the rocks," the rogue pointed down the way, where the sun was peeking above the ridges.
The cold wasn't too unbearable as of yet. "I'm glad we're finally expanding," I added.
Taellor nodded, and then smirked. "Our new recruiter has been…a bit busy with his tasks."
"Who?"
"Zen."
I kept the growl that was rising in my throat from becoming audible. "He gets to waltz in here and become Mr. high-and-mighty."
"He came greatly recommended by SI:7," Taellor taunted.
Zen floated past the pair of us, his eyes momentarily darting over our figures before he continued to Fordring's tent. What amused me the most was how his aura singed with jealousy. Good.
"If you need any help…"
"Just worry about yourself, Grace," Taellor insisted.
There was a silence as I debated with myself. Finally, I opened my mouth, ready to bring up the happenings of last night, when Taellor shook his head curtly. "No, Grace," he spoke in a low voice. "We don't have to talk about it. I know it was a total accident…"
"Taellor," I breathed. His eyes wouldn't look at me now. His aura seemed so weak and tinged with regret. "Taellor, I'm sorry…you should have just slapped me away…"
"It's not that it happened," Taellor interrupted, his voice strained as he tried to look at me. "It's that it happened like this."
Before I could react, Taellor had walked off, pretending to be absorbed in his work. I may have stood there for awhile. Shock held my feet in place as I replayed what had just happened.
Like this? Immediately my eyes drifted to Zen, whose aura had perked with curiosity.
Taellor was actually hurting because of me. It left me in torment—I couldn't run to Taellor to comfort; as much as I loved him, the guilt of hurting him kept me to myself. We both knew that 'we' would never work. That everything was in vain…Taellor obviously loathed Zen, and Zen surely felt the same about Taellor. I felt it every time their auras made contact. It was like watching fire and ice collide. They avoided each other, and I avoided them.
The next few days, I tried to simply mind myself. But everything was so distressing. Avoiding the two guys I had always trusted most wasn't exactly therapeutic.
I wasn't allowed far from base. We were growing in numbers daily, but so was the Lich King's army. Apparently, that was just cause to keep me tucked away safe with my own frustrations.
I worried about Lucas. I missed Zen. And my relationship with Taellor was beginning to tear me apart.
And if that wasn't enough, there were also the crossovers. At first, the headaches and urges were absent. But after a day or so, they crept back into my routine. On day five I was watching a roof get placed when a whoosh left me with a pounding headache and blurry vision—but still I felt my own body fall back, and I watched as the others that had been around now hovered above me.
"She collapsed…"
I was expecting the Lich King's familiar voice to resound through my semi-consciousness, but it never came. It had me confused and nervous, even as Taellor arrived at my side.
"She was fine, and then she just…fell backwards…"
"Grace."
I blinked, an effort to attempt to see more clearly. Stop talking so loudly, I wanted to tell Taellor, but my voice was elsewhere.
"Her eyes are glowing…"
If I didn't see the Lich King's side, and these symptoms were flooring me…
I wanted to growl as I put everything together. I'm not stupid. Get out of my head, you monster, I thought vehemently.
You're weak, Human eyes have proved to be of use after all, was my reply.
"Just give her space," Taellor ordered. His arms had me pulled into his lap. I'm stronger than this. And I wouldn't stand for it. It was hard to control my own body—it had gone completely tense, my fists clenched and actually causing pain. It took all of the effort I could muster, but I finally managed to force my eyes closed. My own world was shielded from the Lich King, and it helped me focus more as I tried to force myself out of the crossover.
No, I thought, over and over. No, no. No.
I wasn't sure how long I stayed like that, with my eyes clenched shut and my thoughts trying to force out the Lich King's invasion. But eventually, the pounding in my head faded, the feeling of viscosity finally evaporating. When I finally felt alone, I opened my eyes.
My vision focused. Taellor was still hovering above me, and Zen not far behind him.
"Grace?"
I breathed, relieved it was finally over, but dreading the meaning. "Yeah."
Taellor helped me up, and after the crowd dissipated, it was only he and Zen with me.
"What's wrong?" asked the Night Elf, who pulled my hair out of my face as I concentrated on staying on my two feet.
"She needs to lie down," Zen insisted.
"It's getting worse," I managed to explain. "Usually, I see through his eyes. This time…he was in my head…"
Taellor cursed as he understood. "This requires attention."
I nodded, taking a step toward Fordring's, but still swooning a bit. Zen shook his head. "Grace, you're in no condition…"
"Zen, stop pretending like you care about my state," I hissed, gaining my balance once again.
Somehow I arrived at Fordring's quarters without injury. Zen had insisted on attending, and Gregor was now present.
"What happened?" asked Fordring.
"Her visions," Taellor started, "they've worsened."
"How?"
"He spied. Using my eyes," I explained. I told Fording everything that unfolded, with difficultly. Everything was still a bit nauseating.
The general paused in contemplation. "Interesting."
"What do we do?" I asked desperately. It must have been the question on everyone's mind—the others looked expectantly at Fordring for his answer.
"We press forward," he answered.
I shook my head. "But I'm a danger now."
The powerful paladin was very wise, but as he sighed, Fording still seemed completely Human. "Let him see," he encouraged, finally pulling away from his desk and standing regally straight. "The Lich King knows were building an army matching his own, with our without your help, Grace. However, I do encourage you to steel yourself," he folded his arms. "You must fight these crossovers, for your own sake. Stay strong. Learn how to withstand."
"I'll do my best."
"You have our support."
"Thanks, general."
Logically thinking, I could withstand, as Fordring put it. I had escaped the crossover once—but perhaps it was the Lich King's doing? And in that case, perhaps thinking logically wasn't the best thinking strategy.
Another couple of days passed. The Lich King hadn't invited himself back into my mind as of yet, and I was growing increasingly anxious; the only solid method of training myself to repel the attacks was to experience the attacks. But that wasn't a comforting thought, either.
I visited Whiplash often. She couldn't treat me differently for, let's say, visiting a different horse. She helped calm me down when my anxiousness would heighten.
Every so often, I would run into Zen. In the stables or near our tents. It hurt. Having him this close and act distant towards me was worse than having him a distance away. We wouldn't speak to each other, and for obvious reasons.
Taellor treated me like a living being, at least, even though he was a bit distanced ever since our…close encounter. He wouldn't touch me unless needed—or unless I seemed to be in trouble, like when I collapsed. That was the most contact I had received from him the past few days.
Another day, and then I finally received what I had been anticipating. I was heading to my tent when the headache worsened, and my vision became blurry yet again.
I swooned, but immediately I tried to pull out of the crossover. My eyes shut right away—if he could see my body and surroundings, it meant less I actually had control over. And no matter how long he sat in my head, it didn't matter if I could control my body and what he physically saw.
At least I could stand on my feet this time, though my hands trembled as I tried distancing myself from the other side.
He was determined—but not enough. Eventually, the sense of doom faded, leaving me to open my eyes and fail in catching myself before I toppled over. I landed on my hands and knees, the close proximity to the snow not registering as I tried to recuperate. "Wow," I breathed.
My mind might not have been capable of running away at a hint of danger—but I could put up a wall like a fortress and play defense for a fair length of time against the Lich King.
It had been two weeks since the battle at Light's Hope. The buildings were nearly finished, and our numbers grew exponentially each day as we compensated for our new base.
Fordring was acting…different. He was much more uptight as he walked about, constantly looking up at the ridges. So when he personally called Taellor—and then Zen—into his personal tent, I had to investigate.
The three were inside, and I decided to hang around to listen in. I could feel the animosity billowing out of the tent's flap. Taellor and Zen—despite never saying a single harsh word to one another on this continent—carried a huge deal of hostility for each other.
It was figured that the two rogues with Fordring could sense my presence right around the corner; I was hoping the Highlord General wouldn't notice.
"The time is coming," the general began. Too bad my hearing wasn't as cunning as my aura-sensing. I concentrated, trying to listen past the wind's racket and the other surrounding bustle. "We need to start working proactively."
I wanted to lean in closer so badly. A brief silence left me crooning on my toes as I waited.
"I have a reconnaissance mission. It's dangerous. But I have a stash of rogues, and I'm going to use the advantage."
Rolling my eyes, I took a step closer. I was a rogue too, right? In fact, my spying abilities were—
"A real assignment," Zen enthused. "I'm in."
"Past our base northwest, the Scourge has been increasing in strength. I can sense it. Lately, it's been even stronger. The pair of you simply must survey the growth. The number of Scourge specimen. I need a general estimate."
Zen and Taellor. On a cute little mission together. Simple just wasn't the appropriate word choice. Perhaps catastrophic to the entirety of the rogue class…
"Simple enough," Taellor announced. I growled quietly.
"Excellent. You will depart at nightfall."
Do something. I backtracked a few steps and then walked recklessly forward into the tent with the momentum. "Highlord Ge-" I stopped, feigning surprise at the small meeting (even though my act, to the fellow rogues, was as transparent as the skies of Stormwind). "Oh…I'm sorry…I'll come back…"
"Oh, no, Miss Fulstorm," Fordring insisted, motioning me completely inside. "Please. We were just finishing a couple of orders…"
"For nightfall?" I repeated. Shrugging, I gave a grimace in apology. "Sorry, General. I may have caught the very end."
"So it seems, cadet. Just a simple spy mission."
I glanced back and forth between Human and Night Elf. "These two?" I giggled.
Okay, so I was stepping over a few formalities. It wasn't the first case of such.
"These two are very adept." Not retribution from my superior—perhaps amusement?
"Oh I know, believe me!" I piped. "But…this seems to be a rogue mission…and if it's spying, then I could be a big help!" I insisted.
Tirion frowned, eyes flashing through the three of us. Before he could speak, Taellor cleared his throat loudly. "Grace has been having difficulties with her…secret ability. I don't think it's worth the risk."
"I agree with the Night Elf."
Fordring moved to speak again, but this time I took the opportunity to talk. "I did. But twice now I've been able to control it and keep it at bay."
Zen glanced over, my body standing between his and Taellor's. "Grace…"
"I'm an apt subtlety rogue. You need my talents on this one," I encouraged. Because if I don't go, the two hairless yetis would tear each other apart, I should have added.
"Grace, you swear you're fully prepared and able to handle this?" Fordring asked. "I can't have your crossovers putting all of you in danger. And since it's in the heart of the Scourge…"
"I can handle myself," I insisted. "I won't let the crossovers hinder my ability to be a rogue. I would die before I ever let anyone be in danger because of me."
Tirion sighed. "Okay. You will join. But if you have any signs of an impending crossover-"
"It'll be avoided," I promised.
He nodded. "At dusk, the three of you depart."
My shoulders froze. "All three of us?" Okay, so the plan had initially been to keep the two alpha dogs away from each other's throats. The plan was to bring one of them with me, not both—because now it was like Fordring was just throwing the inexperienced dog handler in between the two alpha dogs to keep them separated!
"Of course. It's the only way you'll be going, Miss Fulstorm. Take my offer or don't go at all."
I sighed. "Okay, Highlord. Thank you."
Our trio left the tent in silence, but the heated auras that flanked me meant more than words.
Zen was the first to turn on me once the three of us were out of Tirion's earshot. "If the Lich King sees you walking into his territory, he will find you and kill you. He'll kill all of us."
"I'm glad we're all going together, too!" I countered with a hiss. "Just like old times, Master Zen!"
Nightfall arrived quickly. I was fully geared and prepared—the cold was mostly blocked out with my layers of armor. When I mounted Whiplash, her hooves scurried beneath me in excitement.
"Let's go." Taellor led the way through the night.
Three figures on horses galloped toward the small opening that led to our enemies. The old feeling of exhilaration was coming back—it always found me right before a good mission. A good, dangerous one.
Zen's aura was more calm now, as it usually was before his skills would be applied in battle. Back on the Eastern Kingdom, he could have yelled at me for being so emotionally hyped. But now, I was my own master. No longer a student.
Before we slipped in, we left our mounts along the ridges. It was less of a danger. I concentrated on melding into the nighttime's veil as we advanced slowly. We stayed as close to the rocks as possible, and when it was finally my turn to slip in and look into the abyss, my mouth dropped open. "Wow…"
There were thousands. No wonder Fordring was anxious. The dark black cloud of auras was almost smothering. Some bodies were glowing in that familiar blue color. Even in darkness, my eyes could find the mess of buildings and different beasts. Some were insect-like. Others skeletons that once framed flesh and muscle.
"This is…more than I expected," Taellor muttered.
"No stupid moves," Zen growled. "If something triggers them…"
They wandered aimlessly before us, awaiting the commands of their master. All the Lich King had to do was say the words and these things could lunge for our base at any time…
"We have to warn Fordring," I mumbled.
Taellor moved further along the rocks, starting up the ramp that led to a plateau overlooking the mess before us. "Taellor?"
"I'm just going to go up—I need to see how large…"
Zen sighed, immediately following the elf up the long ledge. In fear of being left alone, I followed as well.
Finally, we stopped midway. "Look at that," Taellor marveled. Hesitantly I stepped closer to the edge with Taellor and looked—it was a frightening view up here. The Scourge's masses stretched further out than I presumed.
"Death isn't the only way to stare into the eyes of hell," Zen growled.
Then, without warning, the headache returned, and this time, I was truly afraid of having the Lich King sneak a peek of what I was up to.
I froze completely, my first instinct to clip my eyes shut. Forget the fact that you're teetering on a cliff. A fall would kill me; a breech in my defense would kill everyone.
I don't think so, I thought. Trying to keep myself standing and safe while I kept the Lich King at bay was a troubling challenge. Zen and Taellor may have realized my state already—I tried closing everything off so the monster in my head would leave.
"Grace?" Taellor asked. "Let's go."
I tire of playing these games with you, Human..
Taellor must not have moved; his aura was as clear as if I could visualize him. And Zen was definitely still behind me.
"Grace, let's move. You're going to fall."
Was I even breathing? I wanted to speak, tell Taellor no and explain, but my energy was in a dozen other places.
I wasn't focused enough for this. With Zen and Taellor in danger, and my own body in danger, it was energy draining to simply keep my eyes closed.
"Something's wrong…"
"Pull her back, Taellor!"
Yes. Move, girl.
Suddenly, even with my eyes closed, I became very aware of my body. Taellor's hand went to firmly grasp my arm, but I couldn't yell at him to step back. My legs tingled, suddenly giving out as I took a step forward to try regaining my balance.
My feet met air. Taellor still had his grip on me, but with nothing to hold us to the ledge, Taellor's effort only resulted in his body following mine down the treacherous cliff.
The breath I had been withholding hit the pit of my stomach and then hitched into my throat. The first crash of pain was in my right shoulder as I made the first contact with the rocky slope. The jolt of impact must have been enough to catapult the enemy out of my head, because his presence, as well as the headache, had vanished However, now I had other worries.
Fear had my eyes cinched shut, but as my fragile body clashed with every rock and boulder below me, I felt Taellor's grip on my arm disappear.
I had no time to feel worry for Taellor—a sharp rock must have scraped against my head; the wound was instantly painful as my legs flipped over my head and my chest took the beating of another large boulder.
My head went spinning, and it felt like I could have thrown up three days' worth of meals due to the pains in my chest. At least I had stopped moving. The problem was I couldn't breathe or even think straight enough to pull myself up. What luck that my already-bruised ribs would be there to break my fall.
It took a few moments of shaky, shallow breathing and a low moan for me to finally pull myself up with trembling hands. I looked down—the ground was a hop away, where Taellor had landed.
He was motionless. With a new strength supplied by pure panic and adrenaline I forced my mangled body onto the ground and collapsed beside Taellor, who had landed on his side. Holding my breath, I rolled him none-too-gently onto his back. "Taellor," I whispered. No response.
No one had detected us as of yet—after that fall, it was fortunate. But Taellor…
Bile began to rise into my mouth as I gently slapped Taellor's closest cheek. My head was still spinning from the trauma, but then I saw the dark blood seeping from Taellor's brow, and the shock of everything doubled…
Zen arrived what felt like eons later. Silently he kneeled on Taellor's others side, his eyes on me. "Are you okay?"
"I'll manage. But Taellor…" A few more gashes ran along the elf's body, but none lethal enough to kill him. "He must have bumped his head." My vision was beginning to blur, and responsively my hand went to my pulsating head. I closed my eyes to keep the haze at bay, forcing the liquid to spill from my eyes. I was crying.
"He's breathing, but unconscious." Zen looked him over as well. "It was a bad spill."
Worry took over my actions as I looked around. We were clear. Numbly I brought my weak fingers to my mouth and whistled for Whiplash.
"Grace," Zen warned.
"We can't stay here," I muttered. "The longer we wait around, the more likely we'll be spotted."
"But-"
"He's going to die," I urged, my voice cracking.
Taellor couldn't die on me. Whiplash arrived in moments, cautious as she sidled up to us. Zen helped me lift the Night Elf onto Whiplash's back. I saddled up behind his motionless body, all of my strength tethering the Night Elf to me and my hand to Whiplash's mane. "Once you get out of the pass, ride swiftly," Zen commanded. "I'll follow." With one good kick Whiplash galloped away.
When we were out of immediate danger, Whiplash began to gallop at top speed. The snow, still white in the darkness, splashed up behind us. Zen was right behind, as promised. My guilt began to arrive in waves, the tears of worry falling shamelessly down my cheeks. "Please be okay," I prayed. Over and over again.
I arrived with Zen at my heels. A pair of men apprehended Taellor, and once I explained in a frenzy what had happened, they immediately took him to the medical tent.
Reluctantly I watched as they laid him on a cot and tore his already mangled shirt off. More gashes were exposed.
If anything, Taellor looked dead. By the time the medic arrived, I was crying softly, my hand on my mouth as I continued to pray for Taellor's life.
There were healing potions being passed around, and the plethora of paladins and priests were using healing touches where needed.
Someone blocked my view. I looked up, and saw Gregor's very concerned face as he tried pushing me away from the scene. "Grace, please, we're doing our…are you hurt as well?" he asked.
"I…"
"Come." With a lug I was placed on a cot near Taellor, but the priest made sure to pull the privacy curtain. With a spurt of strength I tried wrenching myself off of the cot, a shout of protest leaping out of my throat. Gregor, despite his smaller stature, was a strong man. His arms held me down. "Let me get a look at your head."
"Is he going to be okay?" I asked.
"They're healing as much as they can. But the coma…he'll have to pull out of that himself."
Gregor tried helping me into a laying position, but the effort sent a shock of pain through my ribs again. It was terribly unsettling beneath Gregor's scrutinizing gaze. Breathing was even more difficult on my back. "Grace, show me where it hurts."
I growled. "I hit my chest on a rock. My right shoulder got crushed too. And my head…" My hand went to the abrasion that I knew existed on top of my forehead, but a sticky substance had me withdrawing my touch. Wincing, I looked down at my fingers. Scarlet blood.
"Let me get a healer."
I closed my eyes, the sobs wanting to return. Crying hurt. Breathing hurt. And knowing I caused all of this havoc…that hurt the most.
It wasn't too long before Gregor came back, a more experienced healer at this side. The priest immediately exposed my chest area, his fingers palpating my traumatized ribcage. I whimpered at the contact. "They may be broken. Are you having trouble breathing?"
"N-no," I gasped. Part of me wanted to pull away from all of the work being done on my body. "I'm just…" Scared. While the new priest fiddled with my ribs, Gregor took a washcloth to my gashed temple. It burned—I hissed in resentment, hot tears not soothing the prick.
Warming Light was forming in the healer's hands, the heat spreading through my chest. I could feel the ribs mending within me, and it left me feeling nauseous on top of everything else.
A scream died on my lips, my body shuddering. I barely noticed the curtain—but I did notice Zen's frazzled aura.
"Grace…"
Gregor's aura quickly sizzled into one that could easily translate into a "who the hell is this guy?," but Zen came to my side anyway.
"Give her this," the main medic handed Gregor a damp cloth. The priest must have known something I didn't—with a curt nod he placed it near my mouth and instructed me to inhale. "It'll help calm you down," he explained. Begrudgingly I followed the order, even when the towel's stagnant smell hit my nose.
Zen's hand grabbed my own—it was the first time Zen had willingly sought me out, and having his hand on mine was unexpected, to say the least.
Sticky sweat had formed on my forehead, and by the time Gregor was done healing what he could with my shoulder, I was saturated in my perspiration. The glowing finally stopped, and Zen's arrival had somehow managed to calm me down.
The ribs were still terribly sore—and tender, I noticed, as the healer ran his hand along the bones once more to be sure they were aligned. The touch caused me to jump.
At least the pain in my forehead had dulled to a slight throb. My eyes were feeling heavy now, and I had difficulty focusing on Gregor's figure as he toyed with my head wound.
"Feeling tired?" asked Gregor knowingly. If I had the strength to curse at him, I would have, holy disciple or not.
"That seemed to do the trick. It's for the better…this gash is going to need sutures."
I don't remember anything else.
[end]
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