Of Claws and Totems

Chapter 4

Celebration

He was coming home to his family after a few days of hunting for food. It was the first time he had been allowed to go out on his own. The reason was… foggy. He knew his father was gone, but not dead or of his own will, as if he had been pulled away for something else. It had been a good hunt; he had small game on a belt and was carrying a large deer across his shoulders. He was only sixteen, but was huge for his age and carrying a deer was no trouble for him.

When he entered the house it was the same every time he had the dream: the woman, his mother, and people who he guessed were siblings… they all had blank faces and monotone voices. No names were ever used, but he knew there was joy at his return. That was always the part he liked to wake up at. What came next was the worst.

As soon as he unloaded his prize, the joy turned quickly to anguish. Some unseen force pulled him away from the people and the happiness; it pulled him into pain and suffering, death and agony. He dreamt of being surrounded in a sea of blackness, at first trying to fight it back with whatever he had, sometimes a torch or pitchfork, other times his hunting bow or a sword, and sometimes with nothing at all. It always led him to running though. Running away from the blackness, and knowing he could never escape; the blackness constantly at his heels, but never catching him.

Soon he was in a forest. He didn't remember entering it, or why he was here, but the blackness was gone… only to be replaced by a feeling of being watched. He knew, even inside the dream, what was coming. He was being hunted; it was how he would hunt something. When he couldn't run anymore and had to slow he saw it: the wolf that had been tracking him. It was time.

How many times had he dreamt this dream? He watched as the wolf, no longer a wolf, stood upright almost like a man, but still a wolf, and approached him. The end was coming, he could almost feel the teeth closing around his throat, feel the life being pulled out of him. Just as the wolf man started to pounce, something changed. A soothing wind blew through the forest, slowly blowing the wolf man away like dust motes on the wind.

He was alive… for the first time in his memory, he was truly alive.

Blackheart was slowly filtering back to consciousness as he felt small puffs of air ruffle his fur, followed by a soft giggling. He cracked his eyes to see Kalara on her side forming tiny motes of air in her hands and puffing them at him. It smelled like wind blowing through the forest, carrying the scents of creatures and fauna with it. When he opened his eyes all the way she laughed and said, "It's about time you woke up! You've been asleep for hours!"

"Says the shaman who fell asleep mid battle." he responded. She made a larger puff of air that blew his hair back this time and stuck her tongue out at him. That puff smelled like the angry wind before a thunder storm. "I'm not really a shaman yet you know, I still don't have all of my totems, and I'm not very strong."

"I thought you did quite well, without you we would have lost them… and me."

"Without YOU none of us would even be here! We probably need to see if there is anyone else that I can help with, and you can come along as well." She got up and went to the door motioning him to follow. "I'm sure somebody can use your considerable strength for something."

Following Kalara out of the small house, the after battle smell hit Blackheart. The scent of blood and death mixed with the emotional scents of fear, agony, and hope stopped him in his tracks. He could feel the bloody smell trying to rouse the haze of anger in him… but he was completely spent. It was a scent that he remembered from before… just not as vivid. Confused, Kalara waited patiently for him to explain.

"This… battle, this sense of wasted life and of death, the sense of victory and defeat… I know this sense. It is as familiar to me as any other memory that I have from before I was turned. I do not know who I was, but I know what I did now. I fought in wars. Wars over such petty things: who had the rights to which lands, or who had insulted who; wars without a true cause. I have felt the weight of a sword double because it spilt blood, weighed down by the lives it had taken. I've known victory and defeat, and I know that in war there is no true victor. My memory tells me this was a small engagement, nothing to worry about, but I know I do not wish to rejoin that lifestyle ever again."

Kalara walked up next to him and patted his arm. "I'm sorry to hear that you know all of these things so intimately. Maybe you can recall some happier thoughts later on. Come on now, let's help out." The two then moved on to the rest of the town, lending a hand where they could. Blackheart assisted in carrying the wounded, in some cases mortally, to the makeshift hospital that was set up. Kalara was using her small healing powers to triage as much as she could, but she was still not up to much. The drain that had been put on her was still evident: she was slow to kneel or stand and couldn't use much magic.

Once all of the wounded had been taken care of, they moved to the solemn task of collecting the dead. There were surprisingly few dead draenei, seven in total. There were over sixty blood elves laying dead, and more than that had been captured and were being brought into the town and shackled together to keep under guard. The draenei's battle tactic had proven quite effective it seemed.

Tuluun approached the two then, saying, "Excellent work, my pupil. We'll make a fine shaman out of you yet." Smiling, Kalara said, "Thank you master." "I believe Exarch Milaro was looking for the two of you. He was over in the inn the last I saw of him."

The two walked to the inn, with more than a few draenei giving Blackheart a short salute before continuing on to their duties. As the two approached the inn they could hear a familiar shouting coming from inside, along with members of the Hand of Argus running out the door. "Vindicator Valina must be in there, I'm surprised she's up and about so soon" Kalara said while she opened the door for Blackheart.

They entered the inn to find Valina in a heated argument with Fergus. Fergus was in quite a state. "You saw how he was Valina! Surely you, of all people, can recognize a danger to us all when you see one. I don't care what he did, he almost attacked us and if he wasn't so tired from his… bloodlust at the elves he would have done a fair job of it!"

The inn got quiet when they noticed Blackheart standing slightly inside the door; all eyes were on him making his fur itch. An injured draenei hobbled into the front room of the inn; Blackheart recognized him as one of the draenei of the group he had fought out to save. Seeing Blackheart, he let loose a cry of, "Hail Blackheart, savior of the Watch!" The crowded inn soon rang with cheers. "Savior of the Watch! Hero! Hail Blackheart! Woohoo!" and the draenei were clapping for him. This lasted all of fifteen seconds before Valina cut through the noise, "Enough! Everyone out! I must talk to Blackheart, alone!"

With minimal complaint, the crowd filed out, either outside or to their various rooms, leaving Fergus, Vindicator Valina, Exarch Milaro, Blackheart, and Kalara alone in the room. "Have a seat you two" Exarch Milaro said, indicating a bench opposite of the already seated trio. Blackheart took stock of Valina as he sat down. Much of her was covered in bandages from the burns, but that only seemed to enhance her intimidating appearance. She appeared to be much recovered from the battle. Fergus had a foul look on his face as usual, while the Exarch was merely observing all of them. Speaking to Blackheart, the Exarch said, "The Vindicator I believe has something to discuss with you."

When he was seated, the Vindicator started in on him. "The first thing I want to say is thank you. Without you this settlement would surely be gone by now, and if the Hand had been able to reach it in time, I probably wouldn't be here either." Fergus look turned even fouler at that, while Kalara conversely was beaming, seeming trying to smile for both her and Blackheart.

"Second of all, what happened out there on the battlefield was incredibly sloppy! A true warrior should never lose control in a battle; they should always, ALWAYS be in control of their own actions." The tables had turned for Fergus and Kalara; Fergus was now beginning to smile and Kalara had a stunned look on her face. "If you ever lose control like that again around me, I will put you down myself!"

Kalara had heard enough and jumped up to come to Blackheart's defense. "How can you say that? If not for him we wouldn't even be here." Trying in vain to calm her, Blackheart said, "Kalara."

"He risked his life to save me! To save everyone! And this is how you thank him?"

"Kalara, stop."

"You threaten his life, after all that he did? Did you even see him when he was done? He would have DIED if I hadn't healed him, and it took almost everything I had to do just that!"

"Kalara, really, please stop."

"I cannot believe you, Fergus was bad enough, but I cannot believe that you, the great Vindicator Valina would be so…" she was cut off abruptly with a squeak as Blackheart put and hand on her shoulder and forced her to sit down. "Kalara, stop. She's right. I lost control of myself. Until you stopped me, I was in a red haze. I couldn't control my actions; all I knew were hate and the need to destroy."

Fergus was practically beaming at all this. "I told you he wasn't safe!" He said, but Valina cut him off. "At least you understand it Blackheart. You understand that you lost yourself to your rage, probably fueled by what you are, and were a danger to all of us. That's why I'm going to give you two options. The first is to leave; go back to the forest and visit us no more. We will grant you safe passage because of what you have done. However, if you return, we will be aggressive." Kalara would have jumped out of her seat again if not for Blackheart's hand on her shoulder keeping her firmly in place. Fergus was nodding in anticipation. "Or... you can submit yourself to train with our warriors and learn to harness that rage, and turn it into something useful." The flip flop of emotions happened once more; Fergus looked like someone had thrown a boot at him and Kalara was practically bouncing out of her seat.

This surprised Blackheart a great deal. He had fully expected the first option, and was surprised when there was more than one choice that didn't involve him being banished or killed. Be trained? Be… taught how to control his rage, the red haze that constantly fought him for his sanity? Was it even possible to control what he was? Now the opportunity to end his excommunication with civilization was in front of his face. Coupled with a chance to regain more of his humanity, the choice was obvious.

Kneeling in front of the Vindicator, Blackheart said, "It would be my honor to accept training." Standing unsteadily before him, Valina said, "I hereby formally induct, until further notice of release, Blackheart into the Hand of Argus to be trained for the protection of our people, our home, and this world. Rise, Blackheart, and stand proud as a new Recruit to the Hand of Argus." Blackheart stood and saluted to the Vindicator. "Thank you Vindicator."

"Your first official order is," she paused to inhale and yelled as loud as she could, "to let all of those bloody, no good, eredar-born eavesdroppers in and get the party started!" Blackheart could hear a cheer go up from outside of the inn. Chuckling, he and Kalara opened the door for what seemed like every draenei in the village to stream in. All of them acknowledged him favorably; they saluted, shook his hand, and hit him on the arm, congratulating him while Kalara beamed the whole time. Once the contingent was in, Fergus left in a huff.

"This is only the beginning, worgen." Fergus spat the last word with contempt. "I doubt you'll last long, at least if I have anything to do with…" he was abruptly cut off as Kalara's hoof collided with his backside, sending him quick stepping out the door. She slammed the door in the face of his protests, took Blackheart by the arm, and led him back to a table. "Wow... that felt good."

Sitting back down at the table the two watched the other draenei busily bringing out what food and drink was available. Turning to Blackheart with a confused tone, Kalara said, "You know… what do you eat anyway?" With a wolfish grin and a wicked look in his eyes, Blackheart replied, "Why little girls of course!" and he snapped his jaws shut close to her making her jump. A chorus of laughter echoed from all those nearby. "When you are surviving off the land, you eat anything that's slower than you are. With how I am now, I can eat meat raw... but my taste buds still prefer cooked meats to raw."

"In that case, the stag steaks here are great! Bring us one of those." Kalara said to a waitress who was moving expertly through the crowd. Turning to look at Blackheart again, she yelled to the waitress, "Better make it two!" As a cup of draenic ale was set down in front of Blackheart he stared at it at a loss. "What's wrong, why don't you drink?" Looking from the cup to Kalara he raised his hands to his face and said, "I don't know how to drink out of a cup with this… face." What followed were many failed attempts at making his lips drink from a cup. He finally, to the amusement of all those around him, resorted to holding the cup against his face and snaking his tongue down in the mug to lap the drink up. Blackheart had thought fighting blood elves had been a challenge, but re-teaching his body how to drink from a cup, or to use utensils instead of his claws and teeth, was even harder than the fighting.

After the patrons of the inn were finished with their meals, a space in the middle of the floor was cleared away, and a couple of draenei produced a set of pipes and a lute and started up a lively tune. Blackheart had never seen draenei dance before, and their usual dance was… interesting to say the least. It definitely didn't tug at any memories he had previously had. Nothing this energetic matched anything he could remember of dancing. He did remember one thing clearly though: he did NOT dance, and he made these feelings clear when Kalara kept pestering him to join her. He did enjoy watching the draenei dance though. Being included in their activities, something as simple as a little celebration, assured him in his decision to try and reintegrate himself with society. The merriment was infections, and soon had him and everyone in very high spirits. Kalara had even foolishly challenged the Vindicator to a drinking contest. Needless to say the young shaman was drunk under the table, and was now sleeping on top of it.

As the party was winding down and the draenei were leaving, Vindicator Valina slowly limped over to Blackheart. "Training begins tomorrow morning. The draenei that led the charge from the Exodar is our chief warrior trainer. After watching you fight, I believe it's going to take a lot to master that rage of yours. I've spoken with Tuluun and he agreed to let you stay in his home." She clapped him on the shoulder then. "Welcome aboard."

Blackheart was watching over Kalara as Master Tuluun approached. He could smell the weak alcohol emanating from her pores; the beverage wasn't very strong but she had consumed a fair portion of it trying to outdo the seasoned warrior. "You can use my house to stay in if you would like. Kalara stays there as well in the spare bed, but I have some pallets that can be laid in the floor for you. Now if you don't mind helping to get Kalara back there."

Standing and gently picking Kalara up, he followed Tuluun out of the inn. "Thank you for your generosity, Master Tuluun. Padding will be softer than anything I've slept on for a long time." Blackheart ducked into the old shaman's house and gently laid Kalara down on the bed after Tuluun had pulled the covers back. The old shaman tucked her in in a fatherly way.

Moving to the work bench, Tuluun picked up the mortar and pestle that Blackheart had used to max the regenerative potion for his arm. Quietly, he said, "I see that you have some knowledge of the herbs. Good, come here, I would like to teach you something. You can look at it as… a gift for saving this old one's prized student." Moving to the table, Blackheart watched as Tuluun took some herbs out of a cabinet. "Two parts Mageroyal to one part Piecebloom and Silverleaf and mix like such," Tuluun said as he ground the herbs together to make a small paste. "Do you know what that does?"

"It forms a mix for reenergizing the body and mind, but with the additional Silverleaf more the mind than anything. At least that's what I am guessing."

Chucking, Tuluun said, "Good good. Yes this is my 'hangover potion' that fixes you up after a bad drinking spell, such as what Kalara witnessed tonight. Now to complete it, we add a local flower I've found that we call Sourbloom. Do you know what that does to it?" Blackheart shook his head and Tuluun chuckled again. "This makes it taste so terrible that they don't want to have to use it again. You must keep this part a secret though! We don't want people to know that a cure for drunkenness can taste good. Promise me?"

Blackheart chuckled as he put a fist over his heart, saying, "I swear the secret will never escape me." Stopping halfway through mixing the potion, Tuluun gestured to it saying, "These old hands are tired from many healing potions today, would you mind finishing it up?" Blackheart eagerly did, taking in the smells from the mortar and identifying each ingredient, and noting with a snort the terrible smell of the Sourbloom. As he finished mixing it and turned it into a drinkable mixture with the weak alcohol base Tuluun had just handed to him he said, "If it tastes as bad as the Sourbloom smells I hope I never get hung-over around you."

"Come, Blackheart, we will get you settled in." As the two walked out of the room, Tuluun waved his hand at a totem nearby and the weak flame it held was extinguished, bathing the room in darkness. Back in the living area of the house, Tuluun pulled blankets down and made a pallet on the floor for Blackheart.

"Thank you again, Master Tuluun, for providing me with a place to stay." Blackheart said as he lay down. "But of course. We will see you in the morning." Lying down was a combination of humanoid sleeping habits and those of a wolf: he curled up and used no pillow but his arms curled up under his head. For the first time that he could remember, his dreams didn't haunt him.

Blackheart woke a few minutes before first light like he always did. He stretched out and arched his back, working out the kinks from lying on the floor, and silently crept outside. The night patrol was coming around then and saluted him upon seeing him. He returned the gesture and walked to the edge of town where he could get a clear view of the rising sun like he did every morning. Sunrise was his favorite time of day.

The smells and sensations he felt always underwent a massive change when the sun came out. The air was cool and there was a calm breeze blowing; he was standing upwind of the battlefield and could enjoy the natural smell of the clearing in front of him. Closing his eyes, he let his mind and senses wander, becoming almost at one with his nose and ears. He could hear the night patrol on the other side of town, their hooves quietly crunching the grass; he could hear their chain mail armor tinkling as they were making their final pass. He could hear their conversation, one jabbing the other one because he had recently thought it was a boring patrol. He could hear an owl in the forest nearby return to its nest, its prey settled firmly in its stomach. He could smell the dew on the grass, the moisture it provided causing flowers and grass to open up in anticipation of the morning sun. As soon as the sun broke the rim and he felt its warmth strike him he could sense the change come over the land. The place veritably exploded with tremendous, mostly unnoticed energy. The field mice started rushing back to their homes, songbirds began coming out of their nests preparing to serenade the rising sun, the flowers, trees, and grass came fully awake, sending thousands of different scents off into the air. This was the time when Blackheart found the most peace. This was always the calmest part of the day, and it was a ritual he rarely, if ever, missed. The world was awake.