Yayy! Nine reviews! Count them! Nine! I've never been so happy! And look, I got inspired because of it! Yay!
I would like to say that I am EXTREMELY self conscious about this chapter, but I hope you'll like it anyway. I would like to start with the disclaimer that the relationships presented therein were constructed over the course of 44 chapters and 350,000 words in MahiMahi, and the events leading up to these can be located within that fanfic (in case you find something to be out of the blue).
Pacts
Silverpine, Many Months Ago
"Awww! Aren't they the cutest evil little spiders you've ever seen?"
"Do not make me kill them."
Ketala laughed and gently stroked one of the poisonous green arachnids. The two had finally found the time to go out and find Nathanos replacement animal companions. For this, they had traveled out in the wilderness of Si lverpine. The two companions were currently standing atop a small hill, looking out across a field of slaughtered werewolves. Their trip had taken longer than they had expected, as they had been ambushed several times along the way, and so the sun was just about to set.
Ketala was normally sensitive about killing. She preferred to kill only those creatures which had absolutely no chance at being "redeemed". However, the paladin girl had cut through the werewolves with mindless abandon. Even with all the gore nearby, she was sitting on her rump and cuddling one of his new animal companions. Apparently the werewolves were beyond hope.
"But if you do," she protested mischievously, "you'll be all alone again, with no one but me to keep you company!"
Nathanos grimaced. "I retract my threat."
She laughed again, and his insides smiled contently. Ketala's laughter was unique among undead. It was young, naïve, and innocent. Rather than being a mad cackle, her laugh was a joyful exclamation. The smile on her face was mischievous and teasing- filled with energy. Alive. His two uncuddled dreadmist spiders clustered around him as he sat down beside her.
She turned her eyes to the sunset and smiled lightly. "Pretty," she murmured. "Looks like a fiery apocalypse. Works well with all the blood." Nathanos smirked and wondered whether she was being silly, or whether the sunset actually did remind her of what she claimed. Maybe a bit of both.
His inherent sadism had been tempered by Ketala's constant presence. In turn, he brought out the imperfections- the personality- in her. It was a balancing act. Both individuals gave to and took from their relationship. A breed of desensitization was one of Nathanos's "gifts". It might have been inadvertently responsible for Ketala's morbid interpretation of the sunset.
In any event, the ranger turned his gaze from her to his pets. After rummaging through his pack, he found some mushrooms and strips of meat for them to eat. "Nathanos?" Ketala asked after a moment. He grunted to indicate he was listening. She looked back at him and then shifted, sidling closer to him. The ranger lifted his gaze lazily to hers, an amused expression on his face.
"What do you want, and how much pride is it going to cost me?" he asked dryly.
She just grinned, her eyes whirling yellow and pink with mirth.
"That look frightens me."
"As it should…" she said forebodingly. "It is the look that heralds the coming of… THE HUGGING TORTURE! BWAHAHAHAHAH!" she cried, half-tackling him and hugging him tightly.
Nathanos grunted and gave an annoyed expression. "How is it that you managed to absorb the art of manic laughter without learning the evil deeds manic laughter is required for?"
"What?" she gasped. "I object! You feel that I am being quite dastardly!"
"You've missed the principle of the thing. And I rest my case."
She giggled and gave him a squeeze, nuzzling her cheek into him. The Ranger Lord sighed profoundly. He looked down at her from the corner of his eye for a long moment, and then slowly wrapped his arms around her and began stroking her back. He could give in a little, couldn't he? She smiled after a bit and looked up at him fondly.
"Don't look so smug," he said with mild vexation.
"Don't be so offended by the fact that someone treasures your embrace," she countered. Nathanos snorted and then tensed as she kissed him, her mouth soft against his. After a moment, she released the kiss and pulled back an inch. He simply stared at her. She lifted a hand to his face and her fingers began stroking through his hair and over his cheek. He continued to stare.
He was fond of her. Very fond. And that translated into an overwhelming need to convey affection. But there was a problem. The last time Nathanos had given in to a desire to convey affection, he'd been totally swamped by Ketala's mind, to the point where he was sorely lacking in freewill.
Which left him with a dilemma.
And unfortunately, he wasn't going to get any time to think about it. Ketala kissed him again, and this time much more passionately. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and held his mouth firmly against hers.
…Damn. He could feel his entire essence respond to her. He could feel the overwhelming desire to be near her, close to her, pressed against her- as if by sheer will he could somehow combine with her to become one. Her mind wrapped around his, immersive and as soothing as a soft spring rain. The ranger's eyes rolled up a bit and fluttered shut as he immediately returned the force of her kiss, his arms tightening around her.
She was surprised at the intensity of his response, and catching her off guard pleased him. Her armor was digging painfully into his arms, so his nimble fingers quickly began working the latches that would free her of the white plate.
Tossing aside her armor, of course, meant that he was going to lose his. He did not mind, holding his companion tightly against him and rubbing her back in a circular motion. He kissed her mouth, and chin, and jaw, and received such affections in return. Her caresses ran over his hair and cheek and shoulders.
Pure ecstasy. Pure euphoria. Pure bliss. His mind was utterly vulnerable in this state, but he trusted her. His faith was not misplaced.
He leaned back against the face of the hill, pulling her down tightly against him and wrapping a leg around one of hers. His arms tightened around her torso and shoulders and he clutched her tightly to him, smothering his face into her shoulder and throat and squeezing his eyes tightly shut. So precious… So precious…
"Ketala…" he murmured.
"… I'm here…" And then softer, "I love you…"
He decided to ruin the mood. "Ketala…" he repeated in a soft voice. "There are worgen running around."
He failed. The paladin girl laughed and hugged him tighter, kissing his ear and hair and shoulder.
Nathanos lost his cloak and boots before his heart finally betrayed him and began beating. He'd expected the miserable organ to do just that: it had done so in several instances when he was in extreme Ketala-related duress. At the first beat, Ketala jumped and looked up at him in surprise.
"Your heart is beating," she reflected.
"Did you think I could not tell?" he asked dryly, kissing her temple.
"When did that start?"
"Just now. What kind of stupid question is that?"
She pinched him and grinned when he squirmed in annoyance. " 'Just now'? What kind of stupid answer is that?" He grunted but said nothing, stroking his slender, nimblethrough her hair. "Nathanos."
"Hmm?" he asked indolently. She was about to say something when, to show his mastery of the ability to discomfit others, he pushed his tongue into her ear. She gave a very satisfying squeal(of horror or outrage- he couldn't tell which) and convulsed in an attempt to jerk her head away from him. She need not have bothered, for he immediately pulled his head back and burst out laughing.
He laughed richly and warmly, and then despite her reproachful glare he kissed her. She lifted her arm to ward off his kiss and gave a grimace of displeasure.
"That was disgusting!"
The ranger grinned and took two of her fingers into his mouth and gently sucked on them. She made a face and recoiled a bit, her expression uncertain. He blinked and released her hand, docking his head to the side and regarding her.
For one peculiar moment, they were both awkwardly and keenly aware of how their bodies were twined together. Arms, legs and torsos, tangled together into one unified whole… Their bodies pressed together… After a moment, he lifted a hand to her face, and gently brushed the back of his hand over her cheek and jaw.
"It's okay," he whispered. He brushed soft black hair from her face, and then cupped her other cheek and brushed his thumb reassuringly over her countenance. She looked up at him a long moment, and then closed her eyes. "It's okay…" he murmured again, kissing her brow.
He felt her heart move.
Ketala's eyes opened wide, and she stared at him in astonishment. Ketala's life had been ended by a blade to the heart. She was in pristine condition, lacking any kind of rot or decay. Her lungs worked. Her stomach worked. Her liver would probably work , if she had a circulatory system. But not her heart. Not -
It moved again, and produced a squishing, twisting noise.
After a moment, the paladin lifted a hand to her chest and holy energy whirled around her fingers. Nathanos tensed slightly and pulled back an inch. Although holy energy had no adverse effect on Ketala, it would still burn him. She laid her palm flat against her chest, and the squishing became streamlined and deeper, until it was a strong and healthy heartbeat. After a moment, she removed her hand, and looked curiously up at him.
"Does this make me an un-undead?"
A grin split open his face and he rested back against her, feeling her heart beat against his own. "Well, that would be using a double negative. Grammatically, wouldn't that make you a 'dead'?"
"Oh splendid. I was undead and then my heart started beating, so I'm now classified as dead? You can tell that this naming convention needs work."
"Of course. The word "undead" is absurd."
She grinned and kissed his throat. His eyes closed to slits, so she held him against her and gently administered that affection down the length of his neck.
He had been dead for a long time. Forgotten emotions stirred within the depths of his frame; things he had not felt for the better part of a decade. Things he had never required for his bond with Ketala. But things that, nevertheless, were not unpleasant. He looked at her affectionately, hands stroking through her hair and heart beating softly against hers. If she allowed it… If he could be certain it would not damage her naïve innocence… Then perhaps…
After a moment, he shifted and brought his hands to the hem of her tunic.
Silithus
Nathanos' eyes opened wide and he shuddered. His heartbeat thrummed gently in the confines of his chest, and he clutched the ground beneath him. The ground… It was sand. He shivered and looked around, reminding himself of where he was and what had happened. Silithus. And Ketala…
Nathanos sighed, clutching his torso tightly, as if he could will his heart to stop beating. He'd torn out the organ once before, just to stop its demanding assertion. The assertion that he missed her, and he loved her, and that somehow he had to get to her. The assertion that he was unhappy and under stress, and miserable. The only reason he had a heart now was because he had been healed.
He was healed often. Ketala would wrap his mind in hers in order to grant him immunity him to holy energy, so that he might be healed… Or Zul'vii would heal him… Or someone else would heal him… It happened a lot. It kept him in good condition; kept his fingers nimble, his senses acute, and his body strong. It had also restored that thrice-damned heart.
The heart was a devious little thing, waiting until he was at his least cognizant before it sprung. It would tap into his memories and shape them into dreams. It would not let him forget.
Moonglade
Ember moved as quickly as she could, sprinting barefoot across the ground. For a few minutes, all was silent. Then, suddenly, everything seemed to awaken and come to life. Furion was awake. He was looking for her. Ember could not possibly hide. She did not try. Instead, she ran and ran. Even when she could hear the soft padding of pursuing Nightsabers, she ran.
And then she had found her only means of escape. Ember seized the black feathers, and hoisted herself onto the broad back. Her legs looped somewhat around the beast's middle, and she buried her face into its velvety cowl.
Fyrak gave a cry and then bolted forward, his wings beating furiously. Within moments, the little girl was lost to the sky.
Ravenholdt Manor
She was called Puma. Her name was well suited to her. A puma, also known as a cougar or mountain lion, was a large and readily adapting feline. It was extremely slender, agile, and secretive. It could take down several times its own weight. It also could not roar, and instead made noises much more common with those of common domesticated felines.
Puma pretty much fit the bill. Although she was fairly tall, she held herself in a peculiar manner that, without fail, caused her to appear meek and unthreatening. The undead woman would cower into herself, slump, and keep her eyes focused continuously on the floor. For these reasons, she was exceedingly good at her job. Her reflexes were uncanny. She could take down opponents far more skilled and powerful than herself. Her tracking and stealthing abilities were phenomenal. No one suspected her, and so she was the most promising trainee that the Undercity had to offer.
Unfortunately, she was also stupid.
Fahrad sighed, looking the girl up and down. Her terrified and meek demeanor was so convincing that it nearly sickened him, and yet the girl was almost entirely useless to him. Idly, he wondered how the undead female had ever found Ravenholdt Manor.
The female looked up at him, her face peeking out from beneath her tangled mess of blonde hair. By the Light, she even had freckles. No one ever suspected people with freckles! Ever! It was like Fate was doing this just to torment him. He needed a rogue who could spy- not just one who could track and kill. And this girl, Puma, was an extremely simple and unintelligent creature. Her instinct and cunning was unprecedented- she could get herself into and out of almost any situation- but she lacked any other mental functions whatsoever. For starters, the girl barely spoke, and could only understand simple sentences. Worse, she was illiterate ; and to top it off, she had the social capability of a lump of mud.
He watched as she brought a hand up to her face and pushed some hair out of her way. The movement was so innocuous that he felt like crying. She had just slipped a small poisonous dagger from behind her ear into her right hand. Even he had almost missed the motion.
The Grand Master Rogue lifted a hand to his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Abruptly, he paused. What if he paired her up with another rogue? He lifted his head to look up at the undead female, and then gestured for her to approach him. She seemed to read body language well enough, and so she took a slow step in his direction. Fahrad lifted his right hand to grab her jaw, so that he might determine the extent of her undead decay. His left hand caught her wrist as she attempted to stab him, and gently extracted the poisonous dagger from her grip.
Hygiene seemed to be beyond Puma's comprehension, but her face was relatively unmarred. With her timid and dismissible manner, she could easily pass herself off as a terrified human female. Still… her eyes were disturbingly blank, giving away nothing concerning the female's inner thoughts. Fahrad lifted up the poisoned dagger and toyed with it.
"Do you attempt to kill everything you come across?" he asked her inquiringly. She didn't blink, staring at him impassively. He smirked and patted her gently on the head. "I thought so. I think I have a use for you after all." She lifted a hand to his, and extracted her dagger from his fingers. He let her, and observed her with some curiosity. She deftly slid the dagger into her sleeve, stepped backwards, and gave a light bow of her head. He tilted his head to the side and then dismissed her.
Such a bizarre creature.
Felwood
Gone. The camp had been deserted a long time. Perhaps it had been deserted since Illidan returned her to her parents. The tents had been taken down. The fire pits had long gone cold. The permanent homes had been burnt. The camp that Illidan's people had long called home was desolate. Ember looked around with a quiet, pained expression on her face.
Now what? her mind inquired quietly .
Now what, indeed. He'd left. How would she find him? She had to think. But – she couldn't think. It was too dangerous. But then how would she find him? That was her goal.
She had to make sacrifices. She had to get to him.
She could let Archimonde open a portal. She could open a portal. She could open it to the exact spot Illidan had opened his. She could sense the old portal. That's where he'd gone. Outland. Illidan was in Outland. She could open a portal; she could follow him.
She was so lost. So damned. She could not trust her own mind. She couldn't get to her uncle without relying on the very thing that sought to consume her- her own head.
Ember shuddered, then screamed and kicked brutally through an abandoned pile of crates. She shrieked and attacked them, ripping them apart. The rage consumed her, strengthened her, and comforted her. She ripped apart everything within her reach and then tore at the ground and screamed out her fury to the sky.
A shadow fell over her. Enraged, she shrieked and whirled around to look up at the one who dared approach her.
A female creature stood there. She was exceptionally tall- perhaps eight or so feet in height. Her skin was a creamy green color, and her hair was a weird blend of brown, green, and cyan. Small tusks protruded from her lower jaw, and her eyes were a brilliant orange. Although her forehead was swept back, her face was delicately and nobly featured. Each of her hands had five fingers, and her feet had four toes.
Ember only noticed all of this because the sight of this creature gave her pause. A butterfly feeling erupted through her, a fluttering and unpleasant sensation that flipped her stomach upside down. Her hatred rushed madly in all directions and burnt out, and a deep, foreboding pit of dread opened up in the middle of her stomach. Her legs went weak and she shrank down, her eyes fixed on the curious face of the green creature. And yet… Something, something was wrong! At the same time as she felt this sense of foreboding, Ember felt a great rush of strength and contentment.
To Ember's pure astonishment, she had no fear of this creature. It was Archimonde who was terrified ! Immediately, the rest of the world vanished. She focused solely on this strange greenish being, on this potential benefactor whose mere presence could so upset her tormentor.
"'Ey dere. What da 'ell are you doing dis far into Felwood?" the creature inquired in (completely and entirely butchered) Nightelfin. Her inflections were so confusing that it took Ember a moment to figure out what she was saying. The female spoke with a rolling intonation that bundled all her words together in bizarre ways.
Ember shivered, trying to overcome her tormentor's fear.
"You be lookin' for Illidan?"
The Nightelfin girl's ears pricked up immediately. The green female laughed and crouched down.
"Oh c'mon. How can I not be telling dat? Joo look just like 'im. Even got his scowl, haha!" she exclaimed.
Ember blinked in bewilderment, and cringed a bit as the green female picked her up under the arms and stood up with her. The ground was suddenly very far away, and she could look down at Fyrak.
"No need to be so scared lookin'. Joo could probably maul de 'ell out of poor Zul'vii's face, heh heh… 'Ey mon, joo okay? Look, I know I be a troll, but I not be eatin' joo or anyting, kay? Cross my heart and hope to die."
"You talk…" Ember ventured her first words to this Trollish female.
"Funny? Ja mon, I know. It whatcha get when island trolls be teachin' ya Nightelfin. Hmm." She turned her gaze to look at Fyrak. "Can joo talk to him?"
Ember looked at the hippogriff and then quietly nodded her head. "I… think so."
"Well, joo just tell him to follow me. I'll be takin' you to my camp; it be safer dere."
The little girl could only nod her head. Her inner demon's fear and the troll woman's strange accent were confusing her.
Ravenholdt Manor
Puma had finished her training early that day, and had wandered outside the manor. There were other people on the Ravenholdt grounds, but Puma ignored them. She did not like the cultivated beauty that Simone Cantrell , the Ravenholdt "Landscape Architect" , found so appealing. Instead, she slipped off into the brush surrounding the manor.
Puma could wander pointlessly for hours. She liked forests, especially overgrown or swampy ones. Unfortunately, she rarely got a chance to visit such places. The Tirisfal Glades were remarkably devoid of wild, free areas, and Silverpine was overrun by worgs. Hillsbrad was the only place she had ever been where there had been true forests. She liked it there.
The soft drone of insect wings finally worked its way into her senses. Puma blinked a few times, and then realized she had wandered close to a small pond. Bullfrogs were chirping slightly, and a large dragonfly whizzed by one of her ears. The pond was overgrown and extremely marshy. Grass stuck up from its shallow areas, and she had the suspicion that all earth within three feet of the pond was nothing but waterlogged mud.
She tilted her head to the side, and observed the stagnant waters for a long moment. Familiar. She took a step towards the water, and then hesitated, looking down at her feet. The undead paused a moment to allow her mental faculties to catch up, and then she squatted down and pulled both of her boots off. She gave a small smile when this was done, and then stood. She hopped up onto a rotten log and walked carefully to the edge of the pond. There she paused, like a ballerina mid-pose for several moments. Coming to a decision, the girl crouched down on the rotten log and then looped her legs off to the side, and sank her feet into the cool mud surrounding the pond.
She gave a rare expression of delight, and wriggled her toes in order to savor the sensation. Mud. Cool, squishy mud. A buzzing noise. She held perfectly still, allowing only her eyes to move. They roved across her plane of vision until they finally caught up with the erratic movements of a large black fly. She tensed, allowing all of her body to synchronize. Her tendons, bones, and muscles melted away, merging into a singular entity. Her body did not move. There was no tension of her muscles, nor any relaxation. She held perfectly still as her inner energy aligned and her instinct took control.
Her hand was resting on her side one moment. The next it was in the air, a large, grotesque black fly held gently between her pointer finger and thumb. Puma smiled and then quickly drew her hands to her mouth. The muscles in her jaw moved, and when she pulled her hands away, no buzzing noise was to be heard.
There was a brief silence in the drone of insect wings. Puma blinked and turned her head. Watching her from the trees was an old orc. His gray beard had been meticulously braided, and what remained of his hair stuck out in a short horsetail. His skin was an ugly off-yellow color. The corners of his mouth sagged with age, and his tusks were browned. He was dressed in pristine gray robes and shoes- neither of which seemed to be picking up any filth from his environment. It disturbed Puma that he had gotten so close without warning, and she immediately cowered.
He smiled and gave a deep, guttural laugh. "That will not work on me, little one. I saw you catch the insect. Such internal attunement normally takes decades to achieve. I was an old orc by the time I was capable of such a feat." He moved silently towards her, placing each foot with a grace and patience unheard of in his species. "Fahrad says you are newly awakened. This, I believe, is true… but not in the sense that he perceived it. Your inner energy has a very distinctive shape to it. It is strange beyond anything I have ever seen."
Puma held very still, her blond mane obscuring most of her face. She did not blink, her entire body rigid.
"I see it now, inside of you… Preparing to strike…" He tilted his head to the side. "I have never seen any youth align their body with such ease… It is as if it is second nature to you. To hold so still and then lash out; your enemy blissfully ignorant of your presence." He took another step forward and slowly lifted his hands, palms facing up. "I will not hurt you, little one. Nor am I prey."
Again, the girl called Puma did not move. It was very difficult to tell whether or not she was relaxing. Still, he took another step forward, up to the edge of her rotten log, and then halted.
"Awakened… yes…" he murmured, "but not from slumber or death. You were recently awakened into sentience, were you not? You are not human- not deep inside. Your spirit is the spirit of an animal. Were you raised by animals, I wonder? Are you some sort of reincarnation? Or perhaps touched by the spirits?"
No response.
"But you are human in body and in mind… I will not hurt you. You understand that." Slowly, carefully, he extended a hand towards her.
Puma did nothing for a long, long moment. Then, slowly, she pulled her feet out of the slick mud. She stood up on the rotten log, and walked towards the orc with a balance unheard of in a normal human. Without so much as wavering, she slipped past him, walked up to where she had left her boots, and picked them up off the ground. She felt him touch her shoulder and immediately she flinched away, twisting and jumping backwards into a low lying branch.
The orc sighed slightly, noting that she'd just jumped backwards onto a drooping branch suspended four feet in the air without once using her hands. "I want to teach you," he said very gently. "You are not whole, and you know it. You have only tapped the surface of your abilities."
Puma just slipped a dagger out of one of her boots.
The orc frowned a moment and then attempted a different approach. "Puma. You Puma."
She gave a light twitch of her head- the tiniest of nods, and her brows furrowed lightly over her unexpressive eyes.
"Kang. I Kang." He touched his own chest in emphasis, and waited for that fact to seep into her brain. Then, he finished with: "Kang help Puma. Friend. Help."
Puma gave another one of her long contemplative pauses. After a moment, she carefully slipped the dagger back into its sheath, and then hopped down from her branch. She took a step forward and came straight into his personal space with no respect whatsoever for individual boundaries. He eyed her quietly, his body prepared to catch any dagger she might thrust at him. She did not attack, and merely eyed him attentively. Her nostrils flared lightly as she analyzed his smell.
And then she licked his cheek, slathering half his face with undead human saliva. To his credit, the orc stood stock still, and kept a solemn expression upon his face. Puma pondered for a moment more. "Okay," she said at last, and she pushed past him and headed back for the manor.
Felwood
The troll female brought Ember back to a little nook in the side of a cliff face. The area was surrounded by bramble s and dead trees, and was entirely obscured from outside view. There was no fire in the cave- the smoke would have given the hiding place away- but there were blankets and other such nuances that gave the nook a safe and homey feel. Once the troll was certain that no monstrosities had followed them, she set Ember down on the floor, and went to dig around in a pack. "So," the strange green creature began, "whatcho lookin ' for Illidan for?"
Ember frowned and looked quietly at the troll. "…Who are you?"
The troll laughed and then procured a few dried strips of meat. "I be Zul'vii, at your service. Did joo miss my name earlier? Mm, dis speaking ting could be a problem. Joo speak Common?"
The little girl's brows moved furrowed, and then she nodded her head.
"Ah!" the troll exclaimed in Common, startling the small child. "Much better, then. I can speak Common with relative clarity. My name is Zul'vii. I'm a friend of Illidan's… Erm… well, sort of. The idiot could have sent me a message, though. Now I have to go all the way back to where I came from. It's not like I wasn't in the Blasted Lands to begin with! The portal to Outland was right there! Hmph… Well, who are you?"
"… Ember."
"Last name?"
"Stormrage…" Zul'vii cocked her head to the side and offered the strips of meat to the little girl.
"Here. I know elves normally like greens but-"
Ember had already eaten the food.
Zul'vii lifted a brow and grinned. "Are you his kid?"
Ember mused on the answer for a moment, then froze as the fear rose up in her. Thinking... thinking was bad. Or was it? Perhaps musing on things was not so dangerous, now that Archimonde was somewhat subdued. Still, it was best not to get into the habit. The first word that came out of her mouth was, "No." If she had been thinking more deeply, she would have decided that Illidan's insistence that she was Furion's child had prompted her answer. "Illidan is my uncle."
"Ah, so your parents be Furion and Tyrande? Interesting. Illidan and Furion were twins, you know? Not so surprising that you look like him." Ember tilted her head to the side. She had not been privy to this information. "Why are you looking for him?"
"… Need his help," the violet-haired girl offered after a moment.
"Your parents can't help?"
"NO!" Ember cried angrily, digging her fingers into the blanket she was sitting on. Zul'vii winced. That was her favorite blanket, too… "No! No! They only make things worse! They make it stronger, they make it stronger! Have to find Illidan, he's the only one who makes it go away! He's the only one who helps, only one who sees!" she blurted out, and then she clutched at her head and shrank into herself, breathing hard.
Zul'vii mused for a moment. Then, surprisingly, she did something that no one else in the history of Ember's life had ever done. She asked what the problem was. The troll straightened up, looked directly at the girl, and asked, "You've got something bad in your head, don't you? Well, I have something good in my head, so I can't help you much there… But maybe if you tell me what's wrong, I can figure out what to do with you. Maybe help you a bit, ya? So what is it? What's wrong?"
Ember shivered, her nails causing blood to start flowing beneath her hairline. She lifted her eyes to Zul'vii, and in a weak voice said, "My name is sometimes Archimonde. But that's not right at all."
The troll lifted a brow, and eyed her for many long moments. "No," she said at last. "No, it's not. Your name should be Ember Stormrage, and we are going to have to figure out a way to help her out."
Ember shuddered. Her eyes opened wide as the troll woman reached for her. Her demon's fearful weakness seized her again, and she screamed and clawed her way to a corner of their little cave. Zul'vii winced and nodded. "… hokay… … Ember…" She took in a deep breath and tilted her head to the side. "I will get you to Illidan. I promise. But ya gotta tell me everything I can and can't do, cause we got a long trip ahead of us… kay?"
Ember just quivered, too lost in her own distress.
"Okay?"
"… Okay…" she whispered weakly.
Ravenholdt Manor
Puma closed her eyes tightly. She was normally so unexpressive that even this small change in appearance spoke volumes on the effort that this was taking her. Master Kang just waited patiently, allowing her to think. The biggest problem that people encountered when trying to communicate with Puma is that it was very difficult for her to pick up learned behavior. When Puma could tie an action to an instinct, she could learn it without ever even thinking. However, the normal social rules by which all sentient beings functioned were much more difficult for her to grasp. In that respect, she might as well have been heavily mentally handicapped. Her superiors certainly treated her as if she was. Teaching Puma a learned behavior required much time, effort, and patience. However, teaching anyone else a learned behavior at such an age would have been impossible. Her ability to learn basic social rules at such a late stage in life was testimony to her intelligence and adaptability.
In any event, Puma was currently trying to process the idea of a spirit. The concept was so foreign to her that it had caused her immense frustration. Puma's world consisted of "kill or be killed" and "eat or be eaten." All of her behaviors and thoughts revolved around those themes. Still, spirituality was something she needed to comprehend. The spirit was an extremely important part of a creature's inner energy. Until she understood it, her abilities would be sorely limited.
She took in a deep, unnecessary breath and then opened her eyes and shook her head quietly. Puma simply could not comprehend. Her scope of experience was too limited. She did not understand a world that involved morals or values. She did not understand a world that involved love or hate. She only understood survival.
Kang sighed and nodded his head, before a thought occurred to him. He looked directly at her, and then attempted to frame what he was going to say in the most basic way possible. "The spirit is the part of you that is not afraid of dying. It is the part of you that could make you give up your life. It is the part of you that makes decisions that are not based on survival. It is the part of me that makes me your friend, even when I gain nothing from it. It is the part of you that can be happy or sad. It is what makes you more than just an animal."
Puma was quiet. It is the part of you that is not afraid of dying... It is the part of you that could make you give up your life.
"For what?" she asked suddenly. Her voice was whispery and evanescent. Kang blinked. "Give up your life… for what?"
He frowned. "Any reason that would make you give up your life… Unhappiness. Loneliness…"
Puma quite possibly felt those emotions, but she did not even recognize them within herself. When he began rattling off the list of emotional upsets, she shook her head, unable to voice what she desired. The orc mused a moment and then tilted her head to the side.
"Some people are willing to give up their lives for love… That is, for one another."
Puma's head jerked up, and she looked directly at the old orc. Seeing that he had her attention, he tried to elaborate.
"Sometimes, the spirits of two people bond together…Like… symbiotic parasites. I taught you about those, yes? They live off of one another, both benefiting from each other's strength and presence. They help each other survive and protect one another. Their spirits merge. Sometimes, the bond is so strong that a person would rather die than let the creature they protect be killed."
"Why?" she asked.
"Why do you survive, Puma? Why do you fight, and kill, and eat? For what reason?"
She frowned.
"People who would die for someone else… they get to the point where they stop helping their partner in order to survive. Instead, they start surviving to help their partner."
Silence.
"Think of it like this: when and why does an animal stop killing to survive, and instead survive to kill? For what is the purpose of killing in order to survive? You, Puma, kill things in order to survive… And by doing so, you have come to the state where you live simply in order to kill."
Puma's expression was blank. He sighed. Apparently his logic was far too abstract for her to grasp. He was surprised, when she suddenly said,
"I have a spirit."
The old orc blinked, and tilted his head to the side.
"It's what makes me want to kill."
Kang smiled. As small as this achievement seemed, Puma had reached a major milestone.
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHH!
Review, or I shall not update! YARG!
Old time readers: And now you know why Ketala's heart is beating. Three guesses as to where Puma came from!