Was the pot boiling? Was the tea ready? There would be guests coming soon, yes...after the littlest cub in her garden. He was such a beautiful thing, really: adorned in a little red vest and the biggest blue-green eyes. She and Gao always had a fondness for that eye color, vacillating between the blue of the sky and the green of the forest. It was such a pity that during his stay, the cub was restricted to the color of pure jade. Lana would always remember the colors he came in though: she remembered every single one. The browns and tans of the hozen. The beautiful prints on tunics and kimonos of her kin. The striking hair colors of the strangers that had found their way to her lately. Bright orange beards! Amazing! They may be green now, but she would not forget their brilliance.
After checking the pot over the fire, Lana left it to its devices and strolled outside to her garden. It had grown and flourished over the years until it was a perfect spot of solitude, a green haven in the midst of a dense part of the forest. One could come right up on it if you didn't know it was there. Ah yes, her beautiful garden. The one that she filled with visitors to watch over her beloved Gao.
She fondly patted one on the head as she rounded the corner. She and Gao had always wanted a big family. She remembered many late nights, snuggled up together under the stars, dreaming of cubs and hoping. That was such a long time ago, when they were but dew-eyed newlyweds and the garden was tiny, just a few berry bushes and stands of bamboo. The fountain, the little pond, the rows of hedges and the sweeping patches of bright green grass she had all put in herself over time. It was more beautiful now, with brilliant spots of color and tiny serene alcoves to tuck oneself into when the outside world grew too much. Sometimes she would sit on the little deck in front of their cottage and wish more than anything that it was full of little footsteps and the chaos of children at play. It was so similar to her dream of youth that time seemed to blur between her eyes and she thought maybe she was back in that innocent bubble that existed a few months after her marriage.
But then the war had come. She had shed so many tears when he left for training that afterward she didn't know if she had any left.
She had been wrong, of course.
They had spent the time sending letters back and forth. They were filled with the mundanity of life and the hope and promise of when he would return. Gao made the most accomplished soldier of course: brave, talented, strong. He had always excelled in the way of the monk. It was only natural that he discover the ancient art of what would be called the Jade Strike. Oh her heart, how magnificent he was!
There he stood now, in his shrine in the middle of the garden. Preserved forever in the substance that gave him his power, and eventually stole him from her. She brushed her fingers over the plaque that adorned his statue, and felt her heart clench painfully.
Behold Master Greenpaw, known throughout the lands as the Jade Fist Monk.
Through skill, determination, and chi, he mastered the form known now as the dreaded Jade Strike, a blow that would transmute foes into statues of jade.
It was his heroism and sacrifice that saved the Jade Forest in a time of great need, and his like is not to be seen in this world again.
May this statue forever stand as a reminder of the price of peace, and may his sacrifice never be forgotten.
As she read through the plaque that was immortalized in her heart, certain words jumped out in her mind. Heroic, yes: her husband was without a doubt a hero. His technique had been the turning point in the battlefield, and without it they all surely would have fallen to the Mogu. Her pain turned to anger as she continued. Sacrifice. What did any one of the others know of sacrifice? Sacrifice. If the word was spoken aloud, she would have spit it out of her mouth. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. She was the one who had been sacrificed. Their future had been sacrificed. She laid a paw atop Gao's carefully preserved foot, the only part of him she could reach in this ridiculous statue of him. His outline was blurry through her tears, smudging reality until she could almost imagine that this was some other man, someone else that had given his life in battle, and that her dear husband, the true war hero, was simply waiting for her inside by the fire.
Movement rustled by her feet and something hard like stone, yet somehow alive, rubbed against her ankle. She leaned down to pet the jade kitten. It bumped its head against her paw, craving attention. Lana smiled, her ire temporarily forgotten. It was only natural for it to be drawn to her. A person resisted being alone in any way that they could. She looked up into Gao's dear, stoic face: she had been so worried for his loneliness. She herself was terrified of being alone, but at least she could leave the house, seek out others if she really wanted to. Even if everyone except her sister Li shied away from her, they were still there in the village of Dawn's Blossom. But Gao could not leave. He only had her, and she still had the limitations of the living. She had to eat and sleep, and eventually she would be gone from this realm entirely. Who would keep her dear husband, the celebrated war hero, yet quickly forgotten, company here in his garden?
What came naturally to her husband came through years of blood, sweat, and tears to his widowed love. At times she feared the spells and rituals had addled her mind. But as long as she had the memory of Gao and her determination, she kept going. Her precious jade kittens had been the result of some of her first experiments. But now the process came easily to her. Lana gazed around the garden with pride. Now they would never be alone. Slowly she had built a statuary of friends and family around them. Beautiful innocent cubs to brighten her old age, fierce warriors to trade war stories with, rotund friendly females to gossip with, and even a smattering of otherworldly creatures to keep them entertained. While she had been digging in old magic, she found ways to prolong her own life as well. She would some day still depart from this world, but at least she knew her husband would never be left alone.
Lana brushed an errant dead leaf off of the new cub's head. He was a scrappy young thing, but she was inordinately fond of him. She smiled brightly at him, ignoring the panic at the edge of his huge eyes and how he had his hands thrown up to protect himself. Yes, he was her new favorite.
She felt a tingling down her spine, hovering at the edge of her consciousness. She picked up her steps as she scurried back into the cottage. It was time to check the tea. Her visitors would be arriving soon.
It was the third root that Shirelle stumbled over that she admitted to herself how much she missed her staff. In the lull of fighting during her duties in the pandaren city, the priest had taken up training with one of the local monks on how to defend herself physically from an attack. It was a new skill, one that she was barely comfortable with, and she didn't even think to grab her novice staff from where it leaned against the side of the infirmary tent. Her medical satchel that never left her side, yes, but not the weapon that she hardly knew and wasn't even sure she condoned. She was a healer, and since she had landed in Pandaria, even with the multiple battles she had seen, she was still loathe to cause harm to others in any way. But for a trek into the deep woods, a walking stick would have been welcome.
Shirelle caught a glimpse of the pandaren child's pink flowered tunic as she scrambled through the woods ahead of them. An Windfur had not faltered once as she led the two draenei to the den of the person she claimed had captured her friend. Like the adults in Dawn's Blossom, she was already displaying the fierce loyalty and compassion of her race, and Shirelle admired her for it. She pushed a branch out of the way and tried to ignore the possibility that there might be spiders in it waiting to skitter down her sleeves. She quickened her pace, trying to catch up to Maerciless, who threaded her way sinuously through the trees. The death knight seemed to have no problem keeping up with the native girl, who probably traveled these woods every day. In spite of her fitted plate armor and her immense runesword, she as always traveled with a shadowy sort of grace that Shirelle envied. Another dead branch caught at her woolen robe and Shirelle shook it violently as she tried not to fall further behind. She was never graceful. She excelled at jobs that one did not have to worry where one put one's clutzy hooves, where she had all her components and healing implements laid out within reach. Clattering through the underbrush or charging across a battlefield, attempting to keep up with the soldiers, nearly always landed her on her backside in the mud.
Shirelle was so pre-occupied trying to remove forest debris from her robe that she ran right into the back of Maerciless, who was crouched down next to An. The death knight grabbed her arm to steady her, and to her embarrassment Shirelle blushed furiously.
"Thank you," she stammered out. She tried to draw attention away from her face by folding up the hem of her robe and bending down to inspect it for twigs. She managed to catch the end of what the pandaren girl was saying.
"There's the entrance to the maze. It's enchanted: you can't mark your way through because the paths change. But she wants you to come to her: all the paths lead to her house. It's getting out that's hard."
An Windfur was wringing her paws as she stared through the break in the trees. Shirelle followed her gaze and saw what at first appeared to be a solid wall of green occupying the clearing. The more she studied it she realized it was made of a mixture of jade and dense bushes, and barely visible at the edge was a path inside. There was a flash of movement from inside the jade labyrinth, more green inside a sea of veridian. Shirelle felt chill. There were things that lived in that maze, and at least one of them had the terrible claws that scratched that little boy.
The leaves rustled around An Windfur. She had led them this far without faltering, but it was apparent that entering the labyrinth would be too much. The pandaren girl was shaking like a leaf and her eyes were huge as she stared at the green wall in front of them. Shirelle knelt down in front of her and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"You don't have to go in there, An. You were very brave to bring us this far. Why don't you run back to Dawn's Blossom and wait for us there?" An's face was a picture of indecision. Maerciless nodded her agreement.
"We will find Shin and bring him home. You have done well," she added in her husky voice. An's face broke into relief. Without a word the cub disappeared into the brush behind them.
Shirelle regarded the labyrinth before them warily. She couldn't imagine what sort of horrors were encased within its hedge rows that would cause such fright in a child. She had heard of many strange and sometimes terrible things that lived in the heart of the forest. Giant snakes that were bigger than a male Pandaren but silent as they moved, statues of ancient demons that sometimes came to life, wood sprites that did not take kindly to intruders. Shirelle wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.
Her attention was caught by a thrashing sound nearby. Her breath caught in her throat and she turned just in time to see Maerciless yank a length of bamboo free from its sisters. She took out a dagger and cut it to her height, then smoothed the ends. Shirelle was confused until the death knight tossed the stick her way, briefly meeting her eyes with her intense blue ones. Shirelle fumbled for it awkwardly.
"You left without your staff." Maerciless nodded in her direction. "Now you will be able to defend yourself." Her eyes captured hers for a moment, and the hard look on the death knight's face smoothed away. It wasn't quite a happy expression, but Shirelle couldn't help but smile at her in return. It wasn't very often that the death knight's face was left unguarded, and she felt lucky every time that she got to see it. Shirelle opened her mouth to thank her for the make-shift staff, when the other draenei suddenly cringed. It was minute, but when she straightened up, her face closed off again. She turned abruptly and headed to the edge of the tree line. Shirelle gripped the staff and followed after, ignoring the leaves catching at her robe.
What was that?
Maerciless did not pause, but continued right up to the green wall in front of them. Shirelle caught up just as the death knight stepped through the opening of the maze. Shirelle panicked a moment as the sea of veridian seemed to swallow her up, but she followed close behind and the death knight came into view again. She was a few paces away, examining the jade wall with one gloved hand. Shirelle let out a shaky breath. There was definitely magic at work here, and she got the feeling if she did not keep Maerciless in her view at all times, she would be lost to her.
"This is not a normal hedge," the death knight glanced her way to make sure she had followed. Shirelle stepped forward as she drew her runesword. Maerciless prodded the bush with it. The tip sunk into the hedge with no resistance, but when she pulled it back out the hole disappeared and the hedge rustled in front of her, almost indignantly. "I don't think we'll be able to cut our way through. We'll have to go about it the intended way."
"You mean we'll have to solve the maze?" Shirelle drew closer to the death knight, until she felt the tell-tale drop in temperature that followed her everywhere. If she stayed in the frost death knight's aura of cold, then she wouldn't get lost. Maerciless looked at her sidelong as she sheathed her runesword again. Her face was unreadable, but it was obvious some kind of emotion was struggling beneath the surface. She turned her face forward along the path before she spoke.
"An said the maze was not difficult. It shouldn't take long." Maerciless started down the first corridor, and Shirelle hurried to keep her in sight.
Maerciless kept all her senses on full alert as they progressed down the first corridor. The air in the maze was similar to that of the forest outside, but thicker somehow; the more she breathed it in, the harder it was to catch a breath. It seemed as if every aspect of this maze was designed to confuse the mind more than entangle the body. Not to incapacitate, but just enough to throw your sense of direction off. The death knight didn't like it at all: she preferred to stride right into battle with no subterfuge, taking the enemy surprise by her skill with a sword, not by hiding and skulking behind trees. She liked to have all her targets before her at once. The closeness of the hedge rows and the walls of jade felt like being trapped, and it set her on edge.
The priest kept right on her heels behind her, and it didn't help with her feelings of claustrophobia. She didn't mind keeping Shirelle close: in fact, they hadn't dared to pass any closer than an acquaintance might in months. They had started off their placement in Dawn's Blossom busy, and had stayed that way. Even if they had not, they were foreigners in a strange land, and discretion was always prudent in an unknown situation. Even though there were days when her loneliness was near unbearable, and she would risk everything to simply sit, hands entwined, and talk quietly to each other late into the night, Maerciless would not chance Shirelle's reputation. A whispered sentence here and there, or a quick embrace in the shadow of a tent, was all they dared manage at this point.
She slowed her pace as they approached the first turn in the path. She flexed her gloved hand on the pommel of her runesword thoughtfully and nearly elbowed Shirelle in the face. She held her other hand out and stopped, furrowing her brow at the priest, who pulled up just shy of running into her.
"Are you frightened?" she inquired. "You are nearly trodding on my hooves."
The other draenei gripped her make-shift staff tightly and looked very interested in the dirt clinging to the bottom of her robe. "Earlier, when you went into the maze ahead of me, you disappeared from sight. I think it is one of the wards in the maze, to confuse those entering it." She straightened and her timid gaze met hers. "I don't want us to get separated. I don't know if I can find my way out."
Maerciless nodded thoughtfully, and held out her hand. "I won't lose you."
Shirelle took it, and for a moment her face was alight with her smile. The death knight started to return it, then was startled by a twinge from her chest, where her scar resided. She pressed her other palm flat against her breastplate. The same thing had happened when she had given Shirelle the bamboo staff outside. It wasn't painful, just strange. It felt like a nerve ending waking up. She shook her head a bit to clear it.
"Are you okay?" Shirelle lost her hesitation and peered into her eyes with concern. Maerciless leaned back from her penetrating stare, dropping her hand. She was not interested in being probed about her health right now; they had a maze to decipher and a cub to rescue.
"Yes." she said sternly, and drawing her sword, she rounded the first corner. The entire path was obscured by a filmy, pale green mist. Automatically she covered her nose with one hand, but she didn't feel ill or sleepy. Maybe it was a creature that concealed itself with mist. She took a couple of cautious steps forward, leading the way with the tip of her sword. She pressed close to one wall of whatever this building was. Where was she again? It didn't seem to matter that much, at least not as much as finding the source of the mist and killing it. She heard a rustling step behind her and froze, trying to pinpoint where it came from. The fog seemed to get into her ears, making it harder to hear and think.
"Maerciless?" A tremulous voice cut through the mist only a few steps behind her. She spun around, sword at ready. She didn't care how scared the creature sounded, or what nonsense words it was spewing forth, she knew that she had to stop it, and get out of this fog.
"Maerciless, where are you?" it said, a little closer now. Completely unnerved by the fog that made it impossible to see or sense, Maerciless charged forward, runesword held high. She caught only a flash of wide, silver eyes against pale blue skin before she brought the sword down in a powerful arch intended to cleave the creature in two. The sword rebounded off of a solid wall, the momentum throwing her backwards and the runesword out of her grip. The creature cried out in surprise. Maerciless instinctively threw a wave of frost magic back from her towards it. It was not a well-planned strike, and it went a little wild, engulfing the entire corridor with frost. The green mist crystallized and fell useless to the ground.
Maerciless sat up, completely disoriented. Automatically she reached for the sword on the ground behind her. The corridor was clear, both of confusing mist and of any attacking creature. She got to her feet slowly, trying to pull her mind back together. Had she forgotten where she was? It shook her how quickly and completely she had been overtaken by an environmental agent. A faint groan came from the direction they had been traveling from and she felt sick in the pit of her stomach. If the mist had gotten into her mind and made her forget where she was, then the creature she had been attacking... Maerciless hit the ground running and was both horrified and relieved to find Shirelle leaning against the wall opposite her, rubbing the back of her head. She let her sword drop beside her, fear in her throat as she reached for her hand. The weapon clattered mutely onto the ground and Shirelle's eyes snapped up. Her hooves scraped the ground as she tried to back away from her, her eyes wild when she realized she had no where to go. It tore through Maerciless' heart to see her fear.
"No, no, it's okay, it's me," she said, grabbing the priest's shoulders and trying to reassure her. Shirelle was still fighting to get away from her attacker, and kicked out, impacting her jaw with her hoof. There was some strength behind it, and Maerciless let go of her in surprise. Shirelle threw herself away, grabbing her fallen staff and scrambling to her feet. She brandished it at the death knight, and she looked for all the world like a fighter, with her weapon held in front of her, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, and a fierce look on her face. Maerciless held her hands up and pleaded with her.
"Shirelle, it's me. I am not fighting you." She had already thrown down her sword, and she added her dagger to the pile. "Look, I am unarmed." Doubt began to seep into Shirelle's eyes and she reached up to her face and wiped the blood from it, looking down at her hand in surprise, as if she hadn't realized she'd been bleeding. Cautiously, Maerciless got to her feet and stepped toward her. Shirelle let her take the staff from her tense grip and lean it against the wall beside her. The priest watched her warily as she put her gloved hands on her shoulders.
"I am so sorry." Maerciless felt like she should explain, but she didn't even know where to begin. Mind control spells were usually all but useless against the steel mind of the unliving, and yet it had taken seconds for her to seamlessly turn on the priest. It was a kind of magic she had never experienced before, and it completely unnerved her. She couldn't fight what she didn't know.
"The mist confused me, I didn't know who you were," she finished weakly. Shirelle's shoulders relaxed minutely and she reached back to feel the back of her head. Maerciless suddenly realized that the front of her robe and her hair was covered with a light dusting of frost. She brushed some of it off her shoulders, furious with herself. The priest finally spoke quietly.
"I shielded myself before I entered the mist. It must not have affected me." She took a deep breath seemed to pull herself together, shaking her robe to remove the frost from it. She caught the death knight's eyes with a shaky smile. "Remind me to never challenge you to a duel, because I lost terribly."
Maerciless rubbed her sore jaw thoughtfully. "You got one good hit in."
The smile dropped from Shirelle's face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, I was just trying to get away."
The death knight looked at her penitent face in astonishment. "Shirelle, I just tried to kill you. If you hadn't had your shield up, I would have succeeded." She removed her glove, and used her bare hand to gently wipe the smudge of red from the other draenei's mouth. "The only person that needs to apologize here is me."
Shirelle looked slightly embarrassed. "I just bit my lip when I hit the wall. It's okay."
Maerciless pulled the priest to her and wrapped both her arms around her. She closed her eyes, and for a moment all she would feel was her warmth, their hearts beating together, Shirelle's breath on her cheek. She was so selfish to desire her closeness after she had just attacked her, and she could feel the guilt clawing at her insides as she held her close. Rising up within her was an answering emotion to her inner turmoil: an irresistible recklessness. She wanted to draw as close as possible to the fire that was Shirelle, and be burned.
"I've missed you."
Maerciless felt the soft sigh against her cheek as Shirelle returned the embrace. "I've missed you too. And it really is okay, I know you were not yourself."
Maerciless was shaking her head before she finished speaking. Reluctantly she released her and stepped back.
"No, it isn't. If I were a better person, I would keep myself away from you." She took the crude bamboo staff from where it leaned against the wall and handed it back to its owner. She retrieved her own weapons and armed herself again against the dangers of the maze. Last of all, she donned her black leather gloves: whether to protect her hands from the elements, or to protect others from her chill skin, it didn't matter. She caught Shirelle's eyes with her own impenetrable gaze.
"I've never been a good person though."