Voodoo Child

Chapter 23 – Angel

By Genoscythe

AN: Granik will be back when it's feasible, but right now when they're all captured by the Alliance is not a very fitting time to make his grand entrance. Don't worry, you'll get your Granik. Just not now.

Marek Belheim had a secret passion, one that he never told anybody – not for fear of embarrassment, but for fear of utter disgust and complete social rejection.

He liked to knit baby clothes. Out of babies.

It always calmed him down when he was feeling a hint of conscience trying to regain control, or when he was under pressure. Now, with the troll's execution looming closer and a lot of pressure being put on him to actually kill the beast, he felt the need to skin some babies.

Unfortunately (or fortunately if you're not Marek), there were no children, let alone babies, in Astranaar.

"Where the hell are all your children – you know, the ones frolicking in the streets?" He asked Luna Earthwindfire one night.

"Honey, we're immortal. We're children for about ten years or so, then we're teenagers for another ten, then we stay at a stage of early adulthood for pretty much the rest of eternity."

"God damn," Marek whistled. "Who's got it better than that?"

"Well, to be fair, the other races always have to call on us to take care of some ancient evil or another every couple hundred years. And by now you'd think they would learn to come to us first, but no. We're always lighting everyone's darkest hours, we're the last line of defense, the only thing that can stop the yadda yadda it's not as great as it sounds."

"So everything balances out?"

Luna started to laugh. "Oh, god no. We're still stronger than you, smarter than you, faster than you, more fair, kind, graceful, important, mystical and immortal. And we have way better sex, too."

Marek's face fell. "I'm sorry about that. That…doesn't usually happen."

"Relax, most humans do it their first time."

"Hey, I'm just a little bit on edge since I haven't had any babies to skin in awhile."

Luna jerked away, falling out of the bed but landing perfectly on her slender feet.

"Oh. I didn't say that last part out loud. It was a dream, honey. Come back to bed?"

"…not right now," she spoke hesitantly, getting dressed hastily. "I'm gonna go…make sure we don't have any newborns around. Okay?"

"Love you."

The door slammed before she could hear Marek making kissy-noises at her, which was probably good for her state of mind. It pained Luna to consort with the paladin, but she needed somebody as crazy as herself for support. He was also the strongest person in Astranaar, and that would surely come in handy in the upcoming holy war against the Horde. Luna didn't yet know about Marek's infallible tendency to run away at the very slightest hint of danger.

It was getting late, with four days left until the execution. Xan had been stewing – since that was pretty much all he could do – and he concluded that he would rather not die. In fact, he was actually willing to try to not die. He couldn't wait to tell Meridia the good news.

Over the past two weeks, he had gotten virtually nowhere with the Horde sympathizer. It was probably because he spent their entire time together trying to hit on her, while she spent it trying to find a way to escape, but Xan'Jin couldn't tell. He also very much wanted to remove the hood and see what she was hiding, for better or worse. This was simple curiosity, and not driven by any kind of lust.

The door creaked open, and Xan instinctively curled into a defensive ball. The door shut quietly.

"What the hell are you doing?" Meridia asked, bewildered.

"Joo not da paladin?" Xan queried, exposing an eyeball just to be sure.

"Marek? No. Why would you think that?"

"He got in 'few days ago."

Meridia sat on an arm of the couch; the first time Xan had ever seen her sit down. "He doesn't know, does he? About this?"

"He don' even know propa trollish, babe. He be clueless." Xan finally deemed it safe to unfurl himself. "Joo got a plan?"

"I don't…no. I'm stumped. I thought maybe your friends could help us, but they've both gone insane."

"Argam's just like dat."

"The orc was laughing hysterically."

"Z's got issues, too."

"I think they were fighting over a scrap of meat."

"Sounds normal to me."

"You travel with these people?"

"Everywhere."

"You poor thing, no wonder you don't know what to do."

"I don' know what to do 'cause I ain' a soldier!" Xan suddenly burst, sitting upright now and looking at the silhouette of Meridia in the darkness. "I got dragged outta my village by my own parents. Dey signed me up, trew me in da army. I jus' be tryin' to serve my tree years witout dyin', babe."

"I…had no idea."

"Didn' expect ja to."

"Sorry, I've been forcing all this responsibility on you. I just assumed you were…"

"Some kinda hero?"

"Or at least some kind of soldier."

Xan shook his head, taking a chance and sliding a little closer to her. She didn't seem to mind, but that could have been because she was more or less trapped on the end of the couch. Xan liked to pretend anyway.

"Now I told joo all dat, I tink I earned sometin'." Without further ado, Xan leapt and playfully clutched at Meridia's hood. At least, he tried to. She bent over backward, instinctively shooting out her palm and hitting Xan into the ceiling. As he rebounded, missing the couch and landing on the nightstand, Meridia realized she might have acted a bit too quickly.

"…please?" Xan asked mutely, rolling off the nightstand.

"I really don't want to talk about it."

"I can tell."

"It's not a point of pride."

"I can see dat, too."

"It would almost be less painful if you could figure it out yourself."

Xan crawled back onto the couch. "Le's see. Joo speak trollish, but joo not a troll. Joo keep joo face under a hood, but joo got normal eyes. Lemme guess. Joo got a pair o' tusks?"

Silently, Meridia turned on the lamp on a table that, in the future, would be called a coffee table, but since coffee had not yet been invented, was simply referred to as a 'knick-knack display'. With her face barely illuminated by the cerulean glow, she threw back her hood and lowered the mask. Xan'Jin whistled.

"Babe, joo be da prettiest troll I eva laid eyes on."

"Don't call me a troll," Meridia snapped. For Xan was absolutely correct, one of the best guesses he will ever make. There was nothing unusual about the rest of her face – it was genuine night elf. Her skin was, however, in a confusion between blue and purple, and her braided hair a healthy crimson. Xan could not have known this in the meager light, so instead he merely noted the little tusks curling from the sides of her mouth. "Troll is an ugly word."

"Ja. So is sphincter, but we all got 'em."

Meridia cracked a rare smile. "This is why I've never fit in, why I'm so willing to help you."

"What joo be – elf or troll?"

"I'm neither," Meridia began. "It's not something the night elves are proud of, but we were once trolls until we discovered the Well of Eternity. I'm told my family didn't want any part of it. They thought immortality sounded like a cheap sales pitch. My ancestors were the only ones who didn't bathe in the well, but the others tried to force it on them. This is where the details get murky, but you can see for yourself it didn't work all the way.

I'm a second generation Darkwater, so I know more about my heritage than most. I've been reading up on trolls – the language, the religion.When I was a kid, I used to try summoning Hakkar," she added the last bit with a chuckle. Xan, knowing more about the vengeful serpent god than she probably did, was not amused.

"The original Darkwaters are all dead – killed by night elves, actually."

"Don' like ya kind much?"

"Actually, they were terrorists. They tried to destroy the Barrow Dens, but the Sentinels caught them and executed them as trolls. Mom and Pop Darkwater painted their faces and only spoke trollish, so they didn't exactly make it easier on themselves or get any sympathy from me or my brothers."

"Dere's more o' you?"

"Yeah, but they're all lazy bastards…a bit like you, actually."

"It's in da blood," Xan conceded.

"I really should have contacted them before this situation got too serious…" she muttered, gazing out the window. "We could have gotten some outside help, and maybe had a chance at escaping."

"Well, Argam an' Z are pretty good in a fight, so long as Z ain' hungry an' Argam ain' sober."

"You do have odd companions."

"Hey – whateva happened to Mel?"

"Who?"

"Da zombie guy dat Luna's got trapped."

"She's still wearing the bracer."

"If joo can get it from her, he could probly take out everyone here himself." While it appeared Xan was helping Meridia formulate a plan to escape, his brain was focused almost entirely on the new song it was brewing. Sensing a change in the winds, Stormwind Marine James Marshall Hindrex shot up from his bunk, grabbed a pen and some paper and raced to the watchtower serving as Xan'Jin's prison.

Back in the tower, Meridia gave a sigh. Yes, another one. "I don't know how I would. She only takes it off in her room. Nobody respects me anymore, so I can't get through the guards. Luna's built a bunker for herself out of the last remaining moonwell, and it's impossible to break into. We'll have to do without your friend."

"Den we need Argam an' Z." They both nodded gravely. "Make it happen."

"I'll see what I can do." Meridia hesitated for a moment, leveling him with an important stare. There was meaning behind it, but all Xan could do was resist from shouting "Score!" as loud as he could. Then, she picked herself up off the arm of the couch and tread softly to the door.

After she had left, Xan felt it necessary to let the song out of his head. James Hindrex elicited a small giggle of anticipation.

"Angel came down from heaven yestaday." Meridia paused at the height of the stairs, stopped, leaned back against the door. "She stayed wit' me jus' long enough to rescue me."

"Hot damn…" Hindrex muttered, jotting down the translation. "Smells like a chart-topper."

"And she told me a story yestaday…about the sweet love between the moon an' da deep blue sea."

Meridia sighed, this time out of content and not of any impending mortal doom as usual.

"An' I said 'fly on, my sweet angel' – " Xan was interrupted as the door opened a crack.

"I have to be absolutely honest with you," Meridia whispered playfully from the other side of the wood portal. "You sing terribly. I mean, that voice was not made to fluctuate."

"So?" Xan retorted, just a little bitter but not very surprised at her accurate assessment.

"There's something to your songwriting, though."

Xan perked up, in more places than one.

"You got that right," Hindrex muttered below.

"It's almost like some deity wanted to torture you by giving you lyrical genius but making you the worst sing – "

"Okay. Message heard, babe."

"Would you like a guitar?"

"Joo prefer dat to singin'?"

"I just might."

"Den sure."

"Score!" Hindrex blurted. Both Xan and Meridia jumped.

"Whazat?"

"It sounds like one of the humans. Nothing to worry about."

Hindrex was already running back to the marines' tent to get his guitar.

"Gonna see joo tomorrow?" Xan asked.

"I don't know. Maybe. I've got an idea."

"Joo gonna…" The door slammed. "…not tell me?"

The next day found Vismund Cygnus meditating, just like the day before it and the day before that. They had destroyed his moonwells, drained them out and unceremoniously dumped a pair of Horde soldiers inside. He would help them escape, but he had a strong feeling the rapid militarization of Astranaar would backfire soon – and hard. For one thing, their water supply now came from the tainted lake surrounding the town, and for another, most of their priests had left before Astranaar went on lockdown.

A lone elf supply wagon from Darkshore sat outside the gates; the driver was long scared off and the contents left to rot for fear of them being some kind of Horde trap. Cygnus didn't even try to argue the logic in this. Hanging from the inn, a massive banner depicting a massive night elf waving a massive Sentinel flag above a massive army of battle-ready women floated imposingly. In a strange, blocky text, words read: Mother Luna Commands You Die For What You Believe In!

So on top of having an impure water source, rapidly dwindling supplies and a total lack of healers (excluding himself, but he refused to fight for these maniacs), the night elves were being cattle-prodded with propaganda all day long.

It made it hard to concentrate on meditating.

"Cygnus," Meridia Darkwater, the sole provider of intelligent thought these days, greeted him.

"You don't seem well, Meridia…" Cygnus observed.

"You can tell just from looking at my eyes?"

"I'm a priest. I don't have to look at you at all."

"…right. I was wondering about something." Meridia attempted to sit beside him, but she immediately slipped into the empty moonwell and landed on the steel bars caging in the Horde soldiers beneath. A big furry hand shot up and tried to grab her leg, which was dangling between the bars.

Cygnus was quick to pull her back up. "He means you no harm. The tauren, I've heard, is quite mad."

Meridia tried steadying her breath, found it remarkably calming to think of the song Xan'Jin had sung the previous night, then continued. "I'm planning to escape with the troll, and I need your help."

"You're turning your back on the Alliance?"

"Yes. No. Maybe. I'll think about it when I'm not surrounded by siege weapons."

"Well – "

"Speaking of which, where did they get all these? I mean, most of them aren't even regulation siege weapons. That's a catapult loaded with spears, and that one looks like a log with a bear strapped on the end…is that supposed to be a battering ram?"

Cygnus cleared his throat, a quiet and simultaneously forceful gesture.

"Sorry. I just can't believe Luna's done all this to Astranaar."

"I thought you already knew how easy it is to influence stupid people."

Meridia turned her attention to a pair of night elf men having a pelvic thrusting contest. One of the human Marines tried to join in, but both night elves turned on him and literally blew him away with the sheer force of their combined thrusting. Soon enough, Captain Luna Earthwindfire herself strode by, and everyone present (even the downed Marine) stopped their nincompoopery and saluted her.

"Come to think of it, I don't even know why I'm surprised…"

"When do you require my help?"

The sudden conversation shift caught Meridia off-guard. "The day of the execution. I'm going to start a commotion, start bad-mouthing Luna and Astranaar, maybe kill a guard if I have to. If they're as predictable as I think they are, they'll lock me up and execute me with the troll."

"If that's your idea of 'escape' then – "

"No, no. I want you to revive us afterward."

"You mean afterward with all the people still dancing and chanting around your lifeless corpses, or afterward with your bodies flung over the wall where I can't reach them?"

Meridia's face fell. "Oh shit."

"Let me make a suggestion, then," Cygnus began, eyes darting about quickly. "After they've killed you, I will ask that they be given to me for a proper burial. There's a decent chance they'll want to chop up your bodies and serve you for dinner, but if they don't do that – or cremate you – then they will most likely give them up without much of a fight. That's on the outside chance, mind you."

"And you'll revive us then?"

"Yes. You can then either hide out until their economy finishes collapsing or until they leave to destroy Splintertree Post, and then freedom is yours for the taking."

"I like it. There's a much greater chance of survival than all my other plans."

"Even though it involves you dying."

"Precisely."

"If you would, please leave me now. I need to pray for you as much as four days will allow."

End