Chapter 22: Strychnine Lives
They said that those who did not learn from the past were doomed to repeat it. After Jasciona and Daldion, and all the pain that his failures with them had caused him, Zackel had done his best to follow that creed.
And despite that, here he was again, looking into the eyes of a close female friend and finding that what he'd known was gone. All that was left was seething, destructive antipathy, both in her eyes and in the curl of her mouth…
Except, from that same mouth, the stink of alcohol kept drifting down. Despite the danger of his situation, that fact, and its stench, kept coming to the forefront of Zackel's mind.
"Except, I bet, that won't help at all." Rielle said. "The storm doesn't respect you or obey you, what would killing you do? It would probably celebrate its freedom by tearing this whole place down brick by brick. Fel, maybe I'm just killing myself…but in all honesty, maybe I'll do it anyway. Just so it knows that while it got me, I didn't go willingly or quietly."
"Rielle…" Zackel tried to say.
"No, NO. NO TALKING. You'll just try and distract me…stupid mage. I'm on to you. If I even BEGIN to feel the temperature in this room drop any more, this blade goes right up through your silver tongue and ends in your oh-so-vaunted brain." Rielle said. "Maybe I should do it anyway, before you delude yourself into trying to play the hard-done-by-and-learned saint again. Oh boohoohoo, my girlfriend dumped my ass and my brother was too stupid to give up on me and ended up a victim of coincidence because of it. I'll make sure I become enlightened and kind because of it, and help all who cross my path! You know what you remind me of, mage? You remind me of the myth of my people. And that's what it is. A MYTH."
With those last two words, Rielle's eyes changed. The anger briefly left, revealing something else. Something that reached into Zackel's mind and brought the rest of his alarm down under control.
He knew what he had to do, even as half his mind screamed at him not to do it. Screamed to him that the bloom was long off the rose and the only way to stop the encroaching weeds was to yank them up by the roots…
Zackel forced that part down, one last time. If anything happened now, he would know it was truly due to it being his sole measure.
"Oh look, he's LISTENING! Why should I be surprised? You've been a limp noodle from the moment we met!" Rielle said. "Cowardly, craven MAGE, hiding behind lies and trickery and, and, pretending to be so PATHETIC…which makes you JUST AS PATHETIC…!"
"…out…"
"What?"
"Can…get you out…"
"…What?" Rielle said, true confusion briefly crossing her features. Zackel seized on it before Rielle jumped to a false conclusion, like he had purposely been holding her there for some nefarious purpose. The end of that possible line of thought was likely his own.
"…go…into storm…together…" Zackel rasped. "Transfer…my specialized talent…to you…might not…work…might get…lost…but let you…get much further…than you normally would…"
"What? Transfer your talent? You mean…whatever kept you alive in that storm up on the roof? But….why didn't you…?"
"Easy…to do…when still. Moving…much harder. And…could only take myself." Zackel said. "But…if escape you…need so much…will try and transfer…will take the risk…"
Zackel knew his gamble hadn't paid off when he felt Rielle's hand grip his throat even tighter, completely cutting off his air.
"No! NONONONO!" Rielle yelled, her eyes flaring with new rage. "STOP IT! Stop being so PLACATING, so thrice-damned PASSIVE! It makes me SICK! I have you by the throat, by the BALLS…and what do you do? You continue to try and mollify me! THAT'S NOT THE WAY LIFE WORKS! ACT NORMAL, DAMN YOU! CURSE ME! THREATEN ME! TELL ME WHAT YOU REALLY THINK! WHAT YOU REALLY FEEL!"
Rielle relaxed her grip, and Zackel pulled precious air into his lungs, which brought a fresh jab of pain under his jaw. The point of the knife was still there, and Rielle's intense fury hadn't faded an iota…
This time, there was no flashback. Zackel did not see Zuijizra's merrily violent face, or hear her sadistic laugh. All he saw was the rage of the draenei above him…and all the seething dark behind it. Her stone mask was slipping off.
"DO IT! DAMN YOU, DO IT!" Rielle snarled. "STOP ACTING LIKE YOU'RE SOMETHING MORE THAN YOU REALLY ARE, OR I SWEAR TO THE NETHER…!"
One last push.
"…Don't like this." Zackel said.
"Don't like WHAT? HOW I'M ACTING? TOO BAD!" Rielle yelled, drawing her face down and looking directly into Zackel's eyes. "WHY DON'T YOU DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!"
"…Don't…like…being like you."
Zackel heard an audible grinding creak as Rielle's jaw tightened, her breathing speeding up as fresh rage blasted through her veins…
Even as the blood from Zackel's own finally finished its trip down her blade. Lacking a handle, nothing stopped it from touching Rielle's hand.
As cold as the room had made her hand, and despite how hot the circumstances had made her rage, she still felt it.
Zackel saw the realization wash over her features, though he didn't know the immediate source. He'd been trying for a different reaction, one that involved her removing her blade to do a more dramatic downward stab in anger rather then the swift, murderous thrust that would kill him and damn her. Zackel had hoped and prayed that had it worked, she would have realized her actions and re-directed the stab. If she didn't…he would have dealt with it accordingly. Perhaps even come out of it alive.
But said circumstances never triggered, Rielle pushing herself away and withdrawing the knife from his body, though she kept her hand on his throat. Zackel looked at her stare at the blade, and fortunately for him, was able to swiftly figure out the reason why. He, even more swiftly, decided that what had happened was probably even better, and ran with it.
"But this isn't you, is it Rielle?" Zackel said. "No flattery or trickery to save my life can alter that essential truth. This is not you. If it was, you never would have noticed that."
"Shut up…" Rielle said.
"Rielle, listen to me. If you grant me a last request, then just listen to me. I mean it. If staying here is driving you so mad…then I'll take you out. I'll transfer my ability to endure cold to you. It won't be perfect, we'll move slow, and the odds of both of us making it are slim…but I'll do it. Maybe there are those who should suffer like this, but you're not one of them."
"You don't know me, just stop…stop talking…!" Rielle said, tightening her grip on Zackel's throat once more.
"Rielle…if this is what you want, I can't stop you." Zackel said. There was more truth in that than Zackel would have liked to admit, but this circumstance would not be solved by more lies. "But if this IS what you want…then the only one you'll have to answer to in the end, is yourself. If you really believe that's the only one in this world you can ever speak to…the only one you'd ever want to…the only one you'll ever have…then do it. If this is who you are, in the end…then do what you will."
Rielle turned her gaze back towards Zackel, her face a storm of emotions.
"Because…if that's who you really are…then there's nothing I can do, or any prison I could keep you in, that matches the abyss of your own self. And if that's what you are in truth…then that is what you truly deserve."
The storm abruptly cleared, but for the wrong reasons, as all ambiguity on Rielle's features were replaced once again by the terrible rage.
"Deserves?" Rielle said, and terror filled Zackel's heart. He'd screwed up.
Worse, he'd been banking so hard on not doing so that he hadn't properly prepared a defense.
That is, nothing that could stop her as Rielle turned the knife over in her hand, raised it with a vicious yank, and brought it down.
In the manner of shock, it took Zackel several seconds before he realized he wasn't dead.
It took him another few seconds to open his tightly clenched eyes and turn his head back towards Rielle, having instinctively recoiled and cringed away from the descending blade when Rielle had been bringing it down towards his face. Said point was no longer aimed at him; Rielle was again holding the dagger up and staring at it.
With the motion of Zackel returning his gaze to the alien, Rielle did so in turn. The anger was gone from her features, replaced with only a dull confusion.
And as the two looked at each other, the ashen visage of the Draenei began to be stolen over by an expression of sick realization. She turned her eyes back to the dagger, even as she released her grip on Zackel's throat. A moment later her body left Zackel's, Rielle standing up even as she looked at the knife. At the blood on it.
For one brief, horrifying second, Zackel could have sworn she was going to ram it into her own face.
Instead she dropped it, the knife clattering to the ground as Rielle turned and lurched off, saying nothing and making only the faintest keening noise beneath her breath. Zackel watched her disappear out the door. The several seconds of silence that followed allowed to re-gather his mind.
That had been far too close. He'd almost out-thought himself, and in trying to make Rielle realize what he perceived as her error, he'd angered her so much by its occurrence that she'd nearly lashed out blind. Worse, he'd jumped onto the 'blood sensation realization' so firmly he'd forgotten to keep up his backup plan from his original plan going (that being ice armor on his face to stop or re-direct the blade). Had she not stopped herself, Zackel had a sinking sensation that he would have been dead, or at least, severely inconvenienced.
Or maybe he'd just been stupid to try it, based on the fact that she was drunk…
That possibility quickly raised a larger spectre over Zackel's mind, and he stopped getting up in mid-lift, plopping back down on the ground while he dug back into his immediate memory. With all that had happened, Rielle's intensely alcohol-heavy breath had been a tertiary concern, but something in it had clearly been there, something that had stopped him just now. Zackel sat for a brief period of time, doing his best to remember the smell and trying to analyze it…
"…shit." Zackel said. It was hard to classify just what he'd thought he'd detected in the smell, a hardly there undertone, and he was no druid or hunter, who often developed senses of smell so keen they could sometimes out-pace hunting dogs. But whatever it was, it bothered him. Whatever it was, it gave him a tangible sense of bad.
The PT mix had been thrown together, experimental. In his hands, with his practiced alchemical skills handing out the doses, likely nothing bad could have occurred. But the concoction had left his hands, and whether that was by any fault of his own didn't matter. What mattered were the possibilities of the alarming suggestion that the smell was setting off in the back corners of his mind, an unknown problem that refused to solidify but remained in itself a problem. Several possible hypotheses leapt to Zackel's mind, each worse than the last, and though Zackel knew that he tended towards over-reacting at times, he also knew that in this case, over-reacting might get the best result.
"…SHIT." Zackel said, scrambling up. He almost forgot to grab his staff, as he hurried out into the hallway.
The brief passage through said hallways closed onto Zackel with an ominous dread that somehow even surpassed the mage's previous experiences heading through them. One would think an unknown threat would convey more menace than an intoxicated alien, but Zackel didn't feel that way. Not knowing where Rielle was, or just what the PT mix was doing to her, make the hallways seem infinitely more suffocating and dangerous than all his ghost hunts. Heading up the stairs, having not encountered anyone in the halls, wasn't much better.
The door to the pair's former safe house turned Rielle's isolation chamber was open. For one brief but paralyzing moment, Zackel suddenly had a terrible inclination that what he would encounter inside was not Rielle, but a scene of destruction, all his alchemical materials smashed in a fit of petty temper, cutting off any assistance he could give the beleaguered alien…
And well then, that would just seal the fate she made for herself, wouldn't it? Might even make you realize that all you do is give, and all she does is take!
"Yeah maybe you're right I don't care." Zackel said, shoving the voice down and going into the room. Relief surged through him as he saw his still-on-the-table items, moved around a bit, but intact and un-smashed. Zackel leaned his staff against the wall and looked down at his tricks of the trade, tapping a finger as he began pondering.
"Okay based on my previous mix…what I have…and basic possibilities…yeah, seems best." Zackel said, snatching up one of his remaining empty vials. To it he added some of his remaining healing elixir, carefully putting the medicinal tincture aside afterwards. Healing potions were great for physical injuries, but Rielle's problem required a more specific tact.
One she was likely going to kill him for, as Zackel sprinkled a blue powder into the healing potion and corked it up to shake the mix. Opening it and taking a sniff, Zackel carefully dripped three drops of one of his other liquids into the shifting tonic, one drop of another, and after another shake and smell test, a touch more of a second powder. Holding the mix up in front of him, Zackel watched its color cycle from purple to a murky green, and gave it one last smell-check once it had.
Complete. Now all he had to do was find Rielle…
Which did not take long, as Zackel turned around and found her directly behind him.
How the fel she'd moved so quietly, Zackel didn't know.
How she'd done it while picking up her axe, the mage was also clueless about. The shock of seeing her almost caused Zackel to drop his creation.
"What are you doinnggg…!" Rielle said, the words spilling from her mouth like prickled burs. The alcohol expulsion wafted to Zackel's nose anew…
Still there. It was still there.
So Zackel acted, holding up his hands and drawing Rielle's attention to them.
Even as he materialized a length of ice directly through Rielle's hair. Rielle's eyes widened at the sudden cold, which gave Zackel the split-seconds he needed to make the length of ice twist 180 degrees and both tangle up Rielle's hair and yank it backwards from her scalp.
"Ah…!" Rielle said, opening her mouth
Zackel shoved his vial into it, grabbing Rielle's jaw and slamming it shut before she could react. Had the draenei been sober, Zackel knew he never would have been able to do what he'd done.
Nor what he did to follow up, as he spun around Rielle and smacked her on the back as hard as he could. Rielle convulsed from the strike, muscles contracting by instinct and causing a follow up reaction, namely making her swallow the foul-tasting mix Zackel had dumped in her mouth.
"Rielle listen to…!"
The backhand should have broken his jaw and knocked him out, had it not struck the ice armor Zackel immediately manifested before impact. He hated being fooled twice, especially if he was fooling himself. He still didn't much care for the pain of the blow, nor for the way it knocked him sprawling onto the ground.
"WHAT DID YOU DO!" Rielle screamed, whirling around as the vial flew from her mouth.
"Rielle it wasn't poison LISTEN TO…!"
The axe buried itself in the ground where Zackel had just been, the mage barely managing to roll out of the way of the attack.
He was not so fortunate in avoiding the follow up strike, as Rielle yanked her axe up, moved forward, and lashed out with her foot in a smooth combination move that verged on sublime, especially considering her less than optimal state. Zackel did not really appreciate the artistry of the move, as the ice armor on his ribs only barely saved him from several broken bones and did not save him from being tossed through the air and violently smashed into the wall. The impact against the stone floor wasn't much fun either, and Zackel tried to get past the interesting colors dancing in his vision and regain his feet.
Rielle's shadow loomed over him, and he knew he didn't even have time for that.
"Not poison! Not poison!" Zackel said.
"Weerkuay lying MAGE, no more…" Rielle hissed, bringing both hands to her axe. "SEND YOU TO…TO…"
Rielle stopped, her hands relaxing on her weapon, confusion running across her features. Zackel shook his head and watched, even as Rielle put one hand on her stomach.
"What…?" Rielle said, before she violently convulsed. "No…no mage what did you do…what did you…!"
Rielle dropped her axe as she began staggering away. Zackel moved quicker, scrambling over to where the several buckets the pair had used sat in the corner, grabbing one up.
"Ahhhh…!" Rielle said, even as Zackel shoved the bucket into her hands.
"I'm sorry." Zackel said, and looked away.
Zackel doubted the alien noticed, as she proceeding to be violently and very noisily sick into the bucket, all thoughts of battle briefly forgotten as she emptied her stomach contents into her provided container. Zackel waited until the retches turned into more normal groans, even as he leaned over and grabbed another bucket.
"You bastard…!" Rielle said, sluggishly shoving the full bucket away. "What the fel…oh no…!"
Zackel handed over the other bucket in time for Rielle to be sick again. By the time she was done, she seemed to have even thrown up the anger that made her toss insults Zackel's way, as she collapsed on her side, breathing heavily.
"I'm sorry Rielle. I really am." Zackel said, crouching down near the alien again, who stared at him with baleful weariness. "My makeshift alcohol was poisoning you. I could smell it on your breath."
"What…how did…?" Rielle said, before her gut churned again. Zackel managed to grab another bucket, but Rielle did not vomit any more in the end, though she kept the bucket close.
"You must have drank it at too high a dosage. I don't know. I didn't have time to figure out specifics." Zackel said. "I had to whip up a purging tonic. And I didn't have time to convince you to drink it. I'm sorry for what I did do…but I had to act. I didn't want you to die. Or worse."
"…worse?" Rielle said, the rage creeping back into her voice. "I'll show you WORSE…!"
The loud gurgling noise that came from Rielle's stomach was heard even over her elevated voice, and she looked down at herself, glancing at the bucket and then at Zackel, confusion again in her eyes.
"Like I said. Purging tonic. I needed to get as much out as possible." Zackel said. "…I really AM sorry."
"Oh you…bastardddddd…!" Rielle yelled, getting up and fleeing towards the lavatory. Zackel watched her go.
"…yes, definitely a good thing we made the effort to clean that place up." Zackel said, and went looking for proper sanitary materials. He'd leave some outside the door in a bit. Just in case.
If looks could kill, Zackel probably would have been dead long ago, but the Draenei herself had proven far too worn out after her thoroughly unpleasant disemboguing to do much else when she'd returned to the room, staggering over and kneeling by the fire.
"Are you all right?" Zackel had asked. Rielle's response was a wordless gesture. Zackel accepted it, noting that she didn't seem like she planned to move before he returned to his work on his second alchemical mix. Rielle had watched the whole time, glaring all the while, until Zackel had gotten up and walked towards her.
"Drink this." Zackel said, offering Rielle the vial. Rielle stared at it, and then at the mage like he'd suddenly grown a second head and started tap dancing.
"Are you weerkuay CRAZY? After what you did with the…!"
"You. Were. POISONED." Zackel said firmly. "You lost a lot of water just now, Rielle. I don't want you to get dehydrated. This will help replace the basic nutrients you just lost. No more unpleasantness. It even tastes decent."
"Screw you." Rielle said, crossing her arms.
"Rielle, you're a lot of things. Not all of them good. But I know you're not petulant." Zackel said, kneeling down. "Okay, maybe after that excessively not-fun experience, you're not exactly trusting. Fine." Zackel said, putting the vial to his lips and drinking a small amount of it. Rielle watched with wearisome acrimony, and after two minutes of silence and Zackel not initiating his own 'purging', she snatched it from his hands and downed it with one shot.
"…water please." Rielle said. Zackel handed her a canister, which she promptly emptied.
Then she punched Zackel in the face.
Zackel, to his mild surprise, saw it coming. To a smaller and more angry surprise, he let her hit him.
Her blow lacked a considerable amount of the strength the draenei had, but it still hurt. Zackel turned back from the small recoil he'd done from the blow, holding his face and regarding the alien with his own rankled expression.
"…feel better?"
"…no." Rielle said quietly, her arm dropping to her side. "Not really…no."
Zackel blinked. For the first time, shame had come across the alien's features. She'd been stripped of dignity and her sense of righteousness, and it had dawned on her that most of it had been her own doing. Zackel allowed himself a moment, a brief moment, to feel satisfaction at this fact.
Satisfaction that quickly morphed into disgust at himself for feeling it. Zackel closed his eyes and shoved the petty feelings down. They'd deserved a small reward, but it couldn't last long. The questions that remained would not be answered by it.
"Rielle, what happened?" Zackel said. "Did you miscalculate the dosage…?"
"Oh stop asking questions you already know the answer to, mage." Rielle said, her features growing hard again. "No. I tried to drink it all and oh look I poisoned myself. What would have happened, would I have exploded?"
"…uh…I'm really not sure…" Zackel said, thrown off-track a bit despite himself. "I could smell something…off about your breath, under the alcohol…I couldn't tell what it was, just that it was some unnatural chemical reaction. It could have done…all sorts of things. Eaten a hole in your stomach, make your digestive fluids start gelling and blocked up your system, killed your liver…I really couldn't say. I just knew it was bad."
"Oh yay, so the brilliant and abused mage rose above his small-minded companion and saved her life, and got to do it in a way so she was completely stripped of pride and hauteur. Are you proud of yourself, Zackel? Oh wait no, it would be too SMALL and BELOW YOU to be like that. You have to be so pious you make the members of the Holy Light turn green with envy. Whoopee! Bravo! Why cannot I recognize the privilege of being in your presence?" Rielle said bitterly.
"…I don't know about that, Rielle." Zackel said. "I do know I'm glad I saved your life. And I'm worried that I had to."
Rielle stared at the mage for a few more seconds, and then looked away, her expression turning penitent once more.
"…why do you care…?" Rielle said quietly. "I've treated you like shit, I've threatened you, I just tried to kill you twice…"
"Yeah. You did. And I don't appreciate that." Zackel said. "But I'm not going to rush to condemn you, Rielle. Not out of any divine understanding. My basic understanding is good enough, I think. And I know that whatever our differences, you're not stupid enough to accidentally poison yourself. If you're going and doing that…"
Rielle said nothing, her gaze still turned away.
"…Rielle. We have our disagreements. Maybe they're too big to overcome, I don't know…" Zackel said. "But before it all went wrong, I considered you a friend. Is that completely gone? Are we really too different?"
Rielle remained silent.
"…I can't speak for you." Zackel said. "But…part of where it blew up was the misunderstanding of my flashbacks. You thought I was disgusted for your opinions about the Horde, when I was just remembering my own failings. Rielle…you made me talk about that. And it HELPED."
While Rielle remained quiet, Zackel thought, and hoped, that he saw the slightest adjustment in her gaze towards him.
"That part of my life…it was choking me, Rielle. Weighing me down. I wasn't paying penance, I was idiotically and selfishly indulging in self-pity and hatred. If you hadn't dragged it out…it probably would have eaten me alive." Zackel said. "Like I said, I can't speak for you. But it helped me, Rielle. Maybe it will help you. Whatever it is, however you want…let it out."
"…you're so sure you think you have me figured out." Rielle said.
"Sure? Fel no. I don't know if I have myself figured out." Zackel said. "I'm just offering my opinion based on my observations. If you have no use for it, again…well, that's that."
"…yeah. Isn't it always that way. That being that." Rielle said. "So sorry, mage. I don't have some great, terrible failing, some lost love or wounded soul mate in my past, no error that caused pain and death, no disaster of my own making. I just have myself."
Zackel cocked his head, uncertain which way the conversation was going.
"…and that's really enough of a failing as is, it seems." Rielle said.
Silence covered the room. After a few moments, Rielle finally looked up at Zackel again.
"What? No protestations that I'm not a failure? No sneaky trick lines to try and get me to spill my guts?"
"…well, I will admit, I was considering the former." Zackel said. "But you spoke before I could decide on it."
"You don't think I'm a failure. Yeah…sure. You'd know." Rielle said. "What do you know about my kind?"
"The Draenei?…Just what we've discussed over our time here. What I know and what you told me. I haven't learned anything since then."
"The people of this world…so many of them think we're so holy. So blessed." Rielle said. "They really don't understand why. It's not because we're inherently pure and special…not all of us anyway. It's how we cope. Cope with all that's happened ever since Sargeras came and sent us into exile. Cope with all that's come since…and what's come onto us."
Rielle sighed deeply, rubbing at her eyes.
"Tell me, Zackel, how old do you think I am?"
"…well…I recall that your species is very long lived, and moreso with the Naaru's aid, so…around two hundred years old?" Zackel said.
"A nice attempt. Try six hundred." Rielle said. "When I was born, my people had been fleeing the Legion for thousands of years. My parents and my older brother had been on Argus when my kind left it. Though they are not as old as Velen…the Dimensional Ship Oshu'gun contained special chambers that let us sleep for long periods of time, and prevented us from aging entirely while we slept. Valen was one of the few who did not enter them, as he needed to lead my people…even so, when I was born, Argus was a distant memory for many of us. Even my brother, who was a child when he left, barely remembered it. During the several centuries I spent on the ship, before we found Draenor…I found I didn't really understand our situation. I was told about the man'ari and their fall, and why we drifted through the Great Dark Beyond because of it…but it was so long ago. I had not been around for our other efforts to find a home, the close calls we had with the Legion…and I didn't really understand the hardship of it all. When we found Draenor, and settled there, thinking we were free…it seemed to drift even further away. Until the orcs were corrupted. Until the Legion set them loose on us."
Rielle stopped, looking away from Zackel as the shadow of the memories came across her. Zackel had to resist taking her hand: he had a feeling she would resent it.
"I know that your country, your world, has also suffered from the horrors of the Legion. I can't, and don't, claim what we suffered is worse…but I believe that it resonated more deeply with my kind. You were attacked by an unknown enemy, and that is hard to endure…but we were attacked by an enemy we thought we had finally escaped. An enemy that did not even do us the justice of facing us head on. Instead they went to the orcs, poisoned them with their evil, and then set their new slaves against us. The orcs took everything from us, everything…" Rielle said, black hate spiking through her voice again. Zackel felt cold apprehension creep through his veins for a few seconds, before the soft pain of recalled memories re-asserted itself on Rielle's features. "Because of us. Our presence damned them, and damned us in turn. So much death…so much loss. So many widows…orphans…so many grieving parents."
Zackel opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. There were no proper words, not yet, not even for someone like him.
"That was the thing, Zackel. After all we had endured, my kind needed anything it could find to hold onto. The Naaru, our great protectors…even they could not fully protect us from this. They alone could not comfort us. We needed other things, anything that we could find…and one of the things chosen was the few, fortunate families who had not lost any of their members to the orcs' assault. Any family that remained intact was looked upon as blessed and special, and with expectation to do great things. After all, why else had all their members survived, if not for a reason? Surely random chance could not be that kind. It had to mean something. In those dark years…my people needed it to mean something."
"Your family survived?"
"My parents. My brother. My sisters, older and younger. Somehow, we all survived." Rielle said. "My brother Wyphirian fought on the front lines of many battles. He survived them all. My sister Zasuura attended her own battles, her own war zones, using her healing abilities to save lives. There were ambushes, sneak assaults…she survived them. My father Irenus, like Velen, had the gift of the Sight, albeit to a smaller degree. He used it to save lives even if it put him at risk. His kindness was rewarded with survival. And while my mother and younger sister could not do anything at the time, save what they could…tragedy avoided them as well. We all survived, where so many others did not. And as my people hid away from their destroyers, they sought ways to avoid despair. One of them was the concept of unbroken families. Through no fault of my own…of anyone's own, really…my people looked to me to be something exceptional."
Rielle finally looked back at Zackel, and the mage could have sworn the glow in her eyes had dulled a bit.
"So many see us as something more than we are. My people do believe in doing good, even I do…but not just because that is what is right. For many, it's the only consolation we have for what we've endured. Leaving Argus. What the man'ari became and the atrocities they've committed. Draenor and its loss. By trying to do good…we assure that it wasn't all for nothing. That the blessings of the Naaru were deserved and un-wasted. Because of that…many don't think my people have their own flaws. Sometimes I fear…that many of my people believe that as well. And when they do…"
Rielle broke her line of sight again as she slowly shook her head.
"We did what we could to prepare, before the Naaru brought Tempest Keep, and the blood elves who had come to Draenor set in motion the events that brought the Exodar to your world. To survive and make ready for the day when we would strike back at the orcs and the Legion. Every Draenei wanted to bring something special to that effort…but for some, it wasn't hoped for. It was expected. We had to succeed, to be something…supposedly for the sake of us all." Rielle said. "My brother had no problem. He had become a mighty warrior long before the orcs came, a shining blade of the Light. My sister had also heard the call of the Light, learned to let it flow through her and heal the hurt and the dying. I knew what my people wanted of me, even though I didn't understand it. I tried to seek out what I thought would be my calling. To aid my brother, my sister…or maybe learn the power of magic, the same magic my species prized so deeply…"
Rielle fell silent for some time.
"It never came." The Draenei eventually said. "I wanted it to, I listened…and it never came. Instead of the Light or magic, I found I possessed a strength that exceeded some of the largest men of my species. I found that I could look at people, how their bodies moved, their faces, their eyes…and I could tell what they would do, what they were thinking. And…I found inside me burned a fire. A deep, raging fire, that could make me even stronger, make me ignore pain and weariness…and awake feelings in me that went against everything my species claimed was good. My people fought battles for righteousness, for duty, for others…I found that when I fought battles, I fought them not just for that, but for the joy it brought me. Overpowering my foes, grinding them beneath my heel, even cutting into their bodies and feeling their blood on me, hearing their dying screams…sometimes I couldn't ignore it. Sometimes it thrilled me. Sometimes…it brought me a pleasure that sometimes seemed greater than sex. I was expected to bring the battle to the monsters that opposed us…and instead, I found that there was a monster inside me. One that demanded to be fed."
Zackel felt his leg begin to cramp up from his position, but he dared not move it. He didn't want to risk anything interrupting Rielle's words. Much like his own experience, he had a feeling that saying this was, in its own way, even worse than living with it.
"I was not alone…there were others like me. But they were few in number…and none of them came from a 'blessed' family. And when I say like me…I don't know how much. I don't know if they felt the same savage joy I did when I brought my power to bear against my enemies…I don't know if I was even an abnormal among the abnormals." Rielle said. "At first I thought that it was a test. That if I learned to use this…rage…then it would lead me to something better. Something that fit more with what people wanted of me. In time…I realized that would not happen. The Light, magic…they would not come to me. All I had was the strength, and the rage. So…I embraced it. I made sure that I held full control over it. That I would never purposely seek out its dark pleasures. That it would become the blessing my teacher said it was…sometimes, I even delude myself into thinking I succeeded."
Rielle paused to look at the fire, which finally allowed Zackel to adjust his leg. If Rielle noticed, she gave no sign.
"I had one other hope during that time. My younger sister, Ishova, had also not found her calling. While she remained undecided, the question was placed that the concept of the blessed family was just that. That there was no set way for someone to become exceptional. As long as she was normal, I could hope that…they'd accept me. Until we took the Exodar and crashed on your world. Until we began to rebuild. Until my sister woke up one day and told us she could hear the wind speaking to her."
"…A shaman." Zackel said quietly.
"Some had awakened when Farseer Nobundo came among us. The greater life of Azeroth caused more to awaken to the power of the elements…and my sister was among them. And with that…my fate was sealed. My older siblings served the Light. My younger served the new, great power that had been brought to us by a Broken. My friends found the Light, or magic…while I…all I had was the rage. Everyone had looked to my family to see what we did with our blessing…and only one disappointed. Myself, and the monster inside me."
"…that's…" Zackel said.
"Stupid? Ridiculous? Wrong? Yeah. I know." Rielle said. "I spoke with the Naaru a time or two. They always told me that I was blessed. The strength of colossi and the same noble heart so many Draenei had. The worst part was…I could feel them inside me as they spoke. I knew that they were not offering me empty platitudes, that they understood my fear and my pain and tried to assuage it…but it didn't work. My family was the same way. My parents never changed how they treated me. Wyphirian and Zasuura welcomed me as their fellow and equal. Ishova admired me and sought to emulate me. And yet…it wasn't enough. Because the rest of my people, for their own sake, had wanted something else of me…and when I didn't live up to what they hoped, they felt betrayed."
Rielle slowly closed her eyes.
"…do you want to know the greatest curse of being seen as blessed, Zackel? Like so many see my people? As my people saw my family?" Rielle said. "It's never a blessing to the supposed blessed. You feel the need to live up to the concept…and you let it alter how you may naturally feel. My people likely knew, deep down, that how they felt about me was wrong…but the idea that they themselves had to be special and chosen got in the way of it. They couldn't accept their dark feelings, nor could they properly deal with them. But such feelings do not go away. They demand a release. So they looked to me instead, and laid the genesis of how they felt on me. I had failed to live up to their expectations. I was not like them. My strength, and what I offered my people, lay in destruction and ruin. Some wondered, too loudly, if I had been touched by the fel magic that had laid waste to Draenor, that it had tainted me…"
Rielle stopped. Zackel's eyes flicked downward, and noticed that Rielle's hands had become bunched into fists, her blue knuckles having nearly turned white.
"But that was nonsense, they soon said. All Draenei who had been corrupted by fel magic became Broken. I was still one of them. And even faced with that…they couldn't accept it." Rielle said. "Some said that perhaps I was a sign of fel's magic's truly insidious nature, changing me within without changing what lay without. And some said…that maybe there was nothing to taint. That the reason I was so unlike a Draenei was because I wasn't one. That, in some strange, throwback away…deep down, I was a Man'ari. Or the refuse of the kind of Eredar that had become the Man'ari. Not natural. Not acceptable. A failure."
Rielle opened her eyes, a dark fearsome intensity having come into the glowing orbs.
And even as Zackel looked into those eyes, the full impact of Rielle's words washed over him, clearing away the fog. A lot of things finally made sense.
"So I left. I set out across your world, and the remains of my own. I thought that once I was away from their gaze and judgments…maybe I'd find out why I became this. But I've found nothing. Nothing except what I know, and what others thought of it. And even with what the Naaru told me…with what my family, who never asked to be put on any pedestal, told me…even with all the times I told myself…how can I say they're wrong?" Rielle said. "Knowing what's inside me, who I am, what I love…what can I say is the real me? How can I claim otherwise…with what I remind you of?"
Zackel blinked. Until the last sentence, he'd had no idea what to say.
"…and that…as we said…as my people said…is that." Rielle said. "And that's all it ever will be…as terrible as that may be." Rielle said.
"…I suppose any protests wouldn't help." Zackel said. "Telling you that they were wrong, or that my flashbacks had nothing to do with you…but as you said. You've told yourself that many times. It hasn't helped. And stuck here with me…you're starting to fear that maybe they're not the ones who are wrong."
"I fear…nothing…" Rielle said, in a tone that indicated she didn't believe what she was saying. "I…
"Rielle, it's true that there are a lot of things you can never really know about a person. No matter who you are, what you are, how smart you are, what you've experienced…no matter what." Zackel said. "But I know one thing. You are NOT a man'ari."
"You would…" Rielle said, before Zackel snapped up his hand and cut her off.
"Let me tell you what a man'ari would have done in this situation. A man'ari would have offered nothing in her efforts to train. She would not have tried to improve her partner in those efforts, only herself. She would not have showed restraint: she would have fought with all her power and told her victim that it was his fault for not being strong enough to catch up. All her efforts would have been devoted to her own benefit. If that broke her partner, well, what does it matter? All that matters is what she wants."
"Have you suffered brain damage? Do you really think all those beatings I handed you…"
"You hurt me, yes. But never without reason. And never with cruelty. You talk about feeling joy and bliss through combat…if you felt that way with me, if you performed your training to get it, then you didn't need to maul and crush me to get it. Not only that, but you sought to have me learn something from your efforts. Efforts that were not wasted."
"Are you…"
"Let me tell you what else a man'ari would have done." Zackel said, cutting Rielle off once more. "A man'ari would not have wanted to escape. A man'ari would not have felt trapped. A man'ari would have rejoiced that it was locked up with something it could so eagerly and thoroughly victimize, something it could cow and abuse until the storm lost its power or until it grew bored. Fel, it probably would have wanted the storm to last as long as it could, so it could spend even more time going about its work. It would have seen the pain the subject had in its life, and exploited it to ensure that it would never fight back, never resist. It would have brooked no dissention, and would only have acted kind to set up further cruelty. To a man'ari, something like this would be a vacation. A paradise."
Rielle said nothing, staring at Zackel.
"A man'ari wouldn't be content with the crimes of others. It would convince its victim that it was guilty of those crimes by default. That by the actions of Sparse, I deserved the punishment a man'ari would have given me." Zackel said. "A man'ari would have mocked my losses, told me that they were all the fault of my own inherent weakness, and used it to inflict more pain on its victim. A man'ari would take everything that I found joy and happiness in, and twist it until they were forever out of reach. And then when all that was done…then the man'ari would REALLY begin to work. I may not know you, Rielle, or what your people supposedly saw in you. But I know what I saw in the eyes of that demon who nearly killed me and my brother. What I just said…that's what I saw. That's what a man'ari is. That is NOT what you are."
Zackel felt his words trailing off, not sure what else to say. He ran a hand through his blue hair, pondering his options, unsure if any of it was working.
"…Maybe you couldn't give your people what they wanted. But that was never your task. It was, as you said, their own." Zackel said. "But a man'ari…all they can do is take. They craft nothing. They create nothing. THEY bring nothing but destruction and ruin. Not you. A man'ari would have broken me. You…you helped fix me."
"…heh." Rielle said, a soft bitterness in her voice. Beyond it, Zackel swore he heard the faintest echo of a sob. "What a nice little speech. You spend our time apart thinking it up?"
"I suppose it makes sense that one little spiel from me wouldn't wipe away all your pain." Zackel said. "So I'll just say this. You asked me before why I cared. What you told me is the answer. I sensed it, I guess…and now I know. I care because we're so very much the same."
"You're pulling that old cliché?" Rielle said, but her tone was not dismissive.
"We both sought to be the best we could be. We both suffered from the decisions of others through no fault of our own. We both tried to bury it beneath a constant drive to move forward, thinking we could get away. And here, where neither of us could move any more…we both felt its weight upon us." Zackel said. "For me, it came through enduring your abuse without complaint and being reminded of my sins through your visage. For you, well…the past few days seems like a good indication how you reacted, though that is, in the end, only my opinion. But it's the same in the end. We both tried to live our lives feeling like there was poison inside us."
Zackel paused. Now came the tricky part.
"Rielle…my poison's gone. Because of you. Maybe I can't return the favor…but I was going to try. Which is why I say this. You envy us, don't you?"
"…what?"
"Yeah, Sparse was a complete shit…but from what you've told me, about your life, about the expectations you never wanted, I doubt that we would have become so bitterly divided if we'd both been hunters. Magic is revered among your people…and when your powers went otherwise, and the grief it brought you…"
Rielle's eyes briefly blazed, murder in them. Zackel steeled himself for her rage, hoping for the best…
His hope was rewarded, as the burning fury passed from Rielle's features, the bitter sorrow washing it away.
"You don't realize just how lucky you are." Rielle said. "To harness the power of the arcane energies, to bend them to your will…so many of you act as if your power proves your inherent superiority, instead of realizing that it's merely a gift of chance. You go around with your chest puffed out and your eyes glinting with self-satisfied egotism…never realizing just what a great benediction you have. That was who was chosen instead of me. A group of frail, delusional braggarts…one after the other…all the same…all the same…I kept waiting for you to show your true colors…"
Rielle fell silent, placing both her hands in her lap and looking down at them.
"Because it was easier to do. Just like my people." Rielle said. "…I'm even worse than they said."
"No. No you're not. That way of thinking is insidious, and has brought down the best and brightest more times than I can count. A tragedy shared by all." Zackel said. "I know how you feel. I envy you too."
"…You're just saying that."
"Rielle, if you REALLY think that's the case…" Zackel said. "Then look up into my eyes and tell me I'm lying. To you, and to myself."
Rielle said nothing, but she did look up.
"You think I wouldn't envy you? That I can't?" Zackel said. "Look at you. So strong, So determined. You take the worst blows of the world and shrug them off, while we'd crumple like paper. You don't take anything less than what you expect, and if you don't get it you tell people where they can get off. When I suffered my worst blow, I tried to hide away from the world and ignore my responsibilities. You took what made you feel terrible and you did your damndest to make it work for you. I have no doubt that if we'd never met, that you would have found the answers and comfort to your pain elsewhere in the world. Me…I'm not so hopeful. So, yes, maybe the magic never spoke to you. That is a great loss. But what you were given instead is in no way lesser to what could have been. You know that. I know you do. And quite frankly, if you don't get back to knowing it, I'm going to find a way to beat the crap out of you until you clue in."
Rielle stared for some time.
The sound was nearly inaudible at first, and Zackel only picked up on it by noticing the slight vibration of Rielle's shoulders and the way her lips turned upright, just a touch, as she lowered her head again.
"…he…ha. Ha." Rielle said. "Dream on, Zack. Dream on."
Zackel finally allowed himself to relax. Maybe, just maybe, he'd gotten through to her. How well, Zackel couldn't say. But at least it was a start, and Light willing, maybe he'd managed to bury the hatchet…
Rielle emptied a canteen and put it aside, casting her vision back towards Zackel.
"So, feel good mage? That you fixed your broken companion?"
"…I fixed nothing. Nothing to fix." Zackel said. "I just offered an alternate perspective, to try and give a reminder to one that had drifted a bit."
"…heh. You know…maybe you're not trying too hard after all. Maybe you're trying just hard enough." Rielle said. "Maybe you are a decent man. Which makes me wonder why I deserve you."
"…the same reason I deserve you, one supposes." Zackel said. "Life is strange. Plans, ideas, stories…sometimes they actually don't end how you expect."
"…If you only knew…" Rielle said, her eyes drifting fully to Zackel's own. "You really think I could have been that great a mage? Better than you?"
And as Zackel fully returned the Draenei's gaze, something in her eyes spoke deeper to Zackel than her words.
The pain had not fully passed from the glowing orbs, but there was something else there. A sense of comfort. The idea that answers had finally come upon a long-troubled mind. A weary, but deep gratitude, looking past an armor of pride and self-sufficiency that had done too much work for so long.
And something else.
A spark…a spark of something that Zackel had only been vaguely aware of, the rest of it buried under his troubles.
He'd sought to help the Draenei, and succeeded. And with that success, and with his weight gone, Zackel finally saw the faint possibility in full light. And though he kept it off his face, it struck him at the core.
What it meant…and what it made him realize, as he found himself thinking back to previous times, the brief, passing possibilities, taken by circumstance or the specters of the past…
"…well…" Zackel said, somehow answering her question despite the unique turmoil that had suddenly boiled up inside him. "With your determination? Your refusal to settle for anything less than your best? And knowing that your best is not a set goal, but just a series of waypoints throughout your life? Even if your family had never been put on any pedestal…yes Rielle. You would have been exceptional. Really, anything you would have chosen…you would have been exceptional."
"You didn't answer my question."
"Better than me? Well, in truth…all I can say…is maybe."
"Well, I'm sorry, but you would have made a lousy warrior. You don't have the bone structure for it." Rielle said. "So it's probably good that you're a mage. That you're the man you are. I…like to think that's what makes you exceptional…"
When had Rielle's eyes gotten so close…? Had he moved, or had she?
The Draenei smiled, a smile that spoke of soft invitation…
Before her mouth opened and a massive belch erupted. Zackel recoiled even as Rielle did, brief confusion crossing her gaze. Zackel blinked, before the full realization slammed into him.
Unfortunately, his mouth fired off before his mind caught up with it.
"…and you call MY breath bad?" Zackel blurted out.
"Oh shut up." Rielle said, leaning in and smacking Zackel on the shoulder.
"Because really…"
"No. I meant that. Shut up." Rielle said, before yawning. "I've had to listen to you ramble and ramble…I've had my fill. I want to go to sleep."
"Sleep?" Zackel said.
"What, did that eructation, HA HA ANOTHER BIG WORD, deafen you as well? Bedtime. Move it mage." Rielle said, getting up and slipping past Zackel. "Though I suppose I should be thankful, you made me so bored I'll probably drop off in seconds."
"…Right. So happy to be of service." Zackel said, standing up with a touch of exaggerated dramatics, even as he cursed himself inside his head. "I'll just go back down to my bed now…"
Exactly what Rielle threw at him, Zackel didn't know. He dodged it out of force of habit, even as Rielle turned over and away from him, lying down on her furs. Zackel sighed inwardly. Another moment stolen away…
…A moment…?
…Was he…?
"Zackel?" Rielle said. "Could you just stay here for now?"
"…Stay here?"
"Just…here beside me. For a minute." Rielle said, not looking at the mage.
"…I think…I can spare…a minute." Zackel said, heading over and kneeling by the draenei. "…you know, there ARE other things we need to talk about…"
"Can…wait…" Rielle said. "Sleep…now."
"…Right." Zackel said, glancing at the fire.
"Zackel?"
"Yeah?"
"…thank you."
It did not take Rielle to slip off into the mists of sleep. And despite her request for a minute, Zackel stayed there considerably longer, watching her.
The Draenei had not been intending to burp: it has surprised her as much as him. That, Zackel was fairly sure of. Which meant whatever had been happening…
"…ho boy." Zackel said, putting a hand over his face before he rubbed his eyes. He'd been prone to tunnel vision these past few weeks, due to his problems and Rielle's. For the first time that night, they'd both been stripped away. Revealing…
Had she just triggered this change? Or had it been growing all along, slowed by their troubles? Whatever the case was, when he looked at the Draenei again, he still felt it.
The spark. A spark that he'd long wondered if he'd ever feel again. That he had, in some ways, sought again. And yet…here it was, and part of him couldn't believe it.
The spark that Rielle seemed to share.
Zackel cocked his head, looking at the Draenei's peacefully sleeping face. One challenge was overcome, but another loomed. One that was both of lesser and greater importance. And despite what he felt, he wasn't sure how to approach it.
Rielle murmured in her sleep, and Zackel instinctively reached out before he realized what he was doing. Before he could stop himself, his hand was on her arm.
The pain that Zackel braced himself to go exploding through his face or body didn't come. Rielle had not woken up, or lashed out in her sleep. Her muscles were relaxed under his touch.
Zackel slowly removed his hand, watching the Draenei carefully. She did not wake up. She was at peace.
Zackel swallowed before he slowly stood up. If there was one thing he could give her, whatever else, it could be further peace. He carefully crept through the room, picking up his staff along the way, before he left.
Rielle had said some strange things while she'd been drunk. One was the striking accusation that Zackel's storm possessed a mind of its own, and that it was purposely keeping them there. On its face, this seemed ridiculous.
But on its face, Zackel would have never expected the events of the night to end the way they had. Or what he realized he felt towards the troubled Draenei.
This was not about what others might think. It was about her.
And for her, he went up the stairs, and out into the shrieking dark of the continuing storm.
Maybe some would say that the combination of a lack of proper rest and the effects of the purge on her system was what allowed Rielle the deeper, calming sleep she found herself in, and nothing else. Whether Rielle would have agreed with that or not, she could not have said.
But the peace, if that was what it was, had a price. It kept Rielle from hearing the faint, distant cry.
It kept her sleeping as the form slipped through the room, its gait off and disturbing.
It kept her sleeping as the form returned, and began to stagger towards her…her own knife tucked in its grip.
Only when it knelt down did her senses finally yell a warning.
Rielle's eyes snapped open as she jerked up…
"Ah!" Zackel said, several feet away from the Draenei. "Oh. Sorry Rielle. Did I wake you up?"
"…huh?" Rielle said, blinking.
"Knocked a bucket over, here. Sorry." Zackel said, putting the container upright again.
"…bucket?" Rielle said, as she realized the sense that had come to her aid was hearing, only for what her ears had heard to turn out to be anything but a threat.
"Yeah. Went downstairs for my furs. Picked up your knife while I was down there." Zackel said, holding it up. "I remember you talking about the importance of keeping your weapons clean, so I thought I'd wash it off before I went to bed. In case you forgot, or something."
"…oh." Rielle said, looking up and down at Zackel, noticing he was sitting on his rear instead of actually kneeling. "Something wrong?"
"Yeah. Banged my knee coming down the stairs. Some black ice. Yelled my head off…was a bit worried that might have woken you up. Though it didn't." Zackel said. "Nothing serious. Just made it difficult for me to get around a bit. Don't worry."
"…how does a frost mage slip on ice?"
"Because he's an idiot. Par for the course, hmmmm?" Zackel said, scrubbing at Rielle's blade. "I'll just put this with your axe when I'm done. Unless you want me to wake you up and give it back…"
"Oh…no need…if you make trouble I'll just disembowel…your ass…or something…" Rielle murmured, sleep making a heavy return on her brain. Lying back down, she closed her eyes and attempted to re-discover the deep state of rest she'd been in.
She'd made it about halfway before she sensed the approaching presence.
"Rielle?"
"Hmmmmmm?"
"The storm is not alive."
"…huh?"
"You thought it was alive in some way. I give you my personal word that it's not. It's just a storm. And some bad coincidences."
"…you…so sure?"
"I'd stake everything on it."
"…huh…wonder…" Rielle said, before trailing off.
"It's okay. Sleep. Just didn't want it hanging over you." Zackel said. Rielle didn't hear the last sentence: she'd already returned to her slumber. "Sleep peacefully."
And despite his aching knee, Zackel did as well.
At least until he woke up to a familiar sensation: the hilt of an axe violently poking him.
"Up! Up up now! My snoring tolerance has been reached!" Rielle said. "Get up Zackel! Up you get!"
"Huh? What? Oh…blaergh." Zackel complained, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "…wait, was I just dreaming?"
"Don't care. Up!"
"I mean…was there trouble last night?"
"Yes, but that was last night, and this is now." Rielle said. Despite her confirmation, Zackel still had a mild sense of the surreal. After all they'd gone through, seeing Rielle back this way, while a good thing, was also a little off-putting. Then again, considering how she approached life, maybe it wasn't that surprising.
"Can you wait a moment for breakfast Rielle? I need…"
"Breakfast nothing. Get on your feet! Time for training!"
"…what?" Zackel said incredulously. "Training?"
"Yeah! Thanks to all your crap, you cost me several days worth of training! We're going to make up for it!"
"MY crap?"
"Yes! Because you're the one who handled it, and got rid of most of it! Ergo, by it last being in your possession, it is YOUR crap! Ha ha, look at me, I am clever, though you're not much competition." Rielle said, giving a grin that was both merry and mocking. "You're not much competition in training either, but I'll live with it. Not your fault you have such poor bone structure."
"I'll bone your structure." Zackel said…and then realized just what he had said. "Uh…I mean…er…don't kill me?"
Despite all that had happened between them, Zackel found that the grab and slam on the ground Rielle gave him was no gentler than before.
"Now get up and let's get started, perv." Rielle said. "We have a lot of ground to cover."
"Perv? You're the one who's wrestling me in your underwear." Zackel grumbled as he got up. "I still say you should give me a HANDICAPPPP…!"
Zackel's yell was drawn out and cut off by Rielle dashing around him, seizing him from behind, spinning, and slamming him back down onto the furs. Which was, in the end, the entire theme of the training. Rielle slammed, smashed, hammered, and generally dropped Zackel on everything except his head for nearly fifteen minutes straight, smirking and chuckling all the while. Every single effort Zackel made to get out of it was quickly countered and punished, sometimes before he even realized she was doing so. Eventually, he just swallowed what remained of his pride and stayed down, staring up at Rielle.
"…so." Zackel finally said. "Does that work out all the remaining aggression you had over our disagreements?"
"Make breakfast and then we'll talk." Rielle said. Zackel groaned. "What, you expected me to start cooking for you?"
"Perish the thought." Zackel said, rolling over and rising to his feet.
"In all seriousness, Zackel, are you all right?" Rielle said.
"Like I said. You even teach how to get your ass kicked well." Zackel said, massaging his sore shoulders. For all her domination, he didn't feel too bad. "And in all seriousness myself…"
"I know." Rielle said. "We will talk. But not just yet. I still have some coiled up energy that needs release."
"I aim to please." Zackel said, as Rielle turned around and walked over to the fire. Zackel tried not to stare at the way her body moved as she walked, and his aversion of his eyes kept him from noticing the faint blush that briefly came over Rielle's face before she drank from a canteen she'd set up.
"Right…so. Breakfast. Then what?"
"You should probably feed those ogres." Rielle said, as she began putting on her leather padding-clothes. "Maybe do one last check on the storm…you did tell me it wasn't alive last night, right?"
"Yes. It's not."
"Okay. Just wanted to make sure I myself didn't dream it, like I dreamed up the idea it was alive to begin with." Rielle said, kneeling down and inspecting her armor. "Ugh. The first thing I do when we get out of here is having a nice, big hearty meal, but the second is going to get my armor repaired, cleaned, and polished."
"Right." Zackel said, walking over to the pair's table to inspect what remained of the real food they had. "What sort of training do you want to do?"
"More of your ice-throwing would be good. This time in full armor. Want to see if that affects me." Rielle said. "After that…well, we'll see."
"…yeah." Zackel said, feeling some nervous tension in his gut. How to approach this…
"I don't suppose you learned to summon anything new to eat these last few days." Rielle said, as she began inserting one of her hooves into its corresponding metal boot. "Ah weerku."
"What?"
"Like I said, my armor's feeling the long time between touch-ups. I think my boot is starting to warp a bit. Weerku. Blacksmiths charge extra for that." Rielle said. "I don't suppose…you know any fix-them-up spells."
"Unfortunately no."
"Well that figures. I just hope you'll prove to have SOME use soon Zackel. If that doesn't make me keel over dead of shock fi-OWTCH!"
"What? Owtch?" Zackel said, looking up from his work. "What's wrong?"
"Something stuck me. Ow, weerku, that stings!" Rielle said, yanking her foot out of her metal boot. "What the weerku was that?"
"Let me see." Zackel said, walking over and checking Rielle's leg. There was, as per her complaint, a small bleeding hole a few inches above where the hoof ended. "Ow. Did your boot's damage do that?"
"I don't feel anything…no inward pointing parts." Rielle said, her hand probing inside the metal footwear. "…hold on. Found something."
Zackel let Rielle's leg go to look at her discover: a small black metal nub.
"The heck is this?" Rielle said, turning it over in her hand.
"Not sure. Can I see?" Zackel said, taking the tiny object and inspecting it.
"Any idea?" Rielle asked.
"…not…sure…" Zackel said, bringing the nub closer. Doing so revealed nothing, save for the trace of blue blood that barely showed up on the black color of the mystery object. "It's what cut you though. I see your blood on it."
"Where did that come from?"
"Well, you said your boot seemed to be warping, maybe…" Zackel said, and then the memory washed over him.
The ogres made said move. In the form of more crossbow bolts. The Draenei warrior staggered back, just a bit…and then with a snort of disgust, it slammed its axe down on the bolts, breaking and/or yanking them right out of its armor…
"It's one of the projectiles the ogres shot at you. You broke the body off, but the tip stayed in. Must have worked its way through your boot over the weeks you wore it…the warping finishing the trip." Zackel said. "Looks like…"
Zackel's gaze drifted to Rielle…and how she was now leaning with one hand on the wall, a fresh sheen of sweat on her face.
And even as he did that, he took an inadvertent sniff of the air by inhaling through his nose. With the black nub still held in front of his face.
The smell was faint, very faint. But the sickly bitter nature of it brought another memory slamming back to the forefront of Zackel's mind.
"…oh no." Zackel said. "Rielle?"
"Oh shit…not just in my head…I don't feel so good…" Rielle said, wiping her forehead. Zackel stared at the women a split second before he brought the nub directly to his nose and inhaled.
That same smell. That smell he'd only experienced once, but had stuck with him all this time.
Poison. Specifically, the particular vile (and extraordinarily virulent) toxin that rogues favored for their weapons. It was old, but it was there. The crossbow bolt tip had been slathered in it, and some had remained.
"…what the FEL is rogue poison doing on an ogre crossbow bolt?" Zackel said, thinking out loud, before looking at Rielle's pained eyes.
"…you tell me." The Draenei whispered.
For the first time in a long time, Zackel had remembered old feelings, forgotten and thought to be out of reach.
As the Draenei collapsed onto the ground before him, Zackel felt another one roar back into his heart and soul. Fear.
He thought he had felt it before, during the uncertain times and the troubles he'd had during his imprisonment in the old Alterac fortress. He had been wrong.
And even on its heels came another terrible possibility. Another old feeling, threatening to return, with all that it entailed.
Loss.