Maiev had firmly insisted that she be given her own room and she need not show force for Genghis to happily oblige. During the night, however, the Traveler could her hear whimpering through the walls, interrupted once by the sound of breaking glass. He hurried to the corridor to intercept the owner and give him full compensation for the mirror that was most likely shattered across the carpeted floor.
When morning finally dawned, he found her on the balcony behind the tavern, her eyes dry and weighted, staring blankly into the expanse of the forest. His steps were intentionally heavy against the floorboards and he caught her sharp elven ears twitch though she made no move to even look at him.
Her pink hair hung unkempt over her face and he almost lifted his finger to clear away a few strands. He decided for the better to be subtle.
"I once held command over a bastion of marines in southern Kalimdor," the Traveler began. "We formed part of a garrison...stationed around a fortress built along Tidefury Cove. We were relegated under the lordship of Grand Admiral Daelin Proudmoore."
"Are you telling me of your exploits in your failed campaign against the orcs?" Maiev vexedly croaked.
"I do not regard my terms of service as exploits. I never enjoyed much of my time spent in the Barrens. But I do admit that when I was fighting against the indigenous tribes that inhabited those forsaken dry lands, I had never felt such rush and exhilaration...compared to being stationed behind the battlements of a castle that no one would ever assault."
"Then you share much in common with the warmongers of your kind."
The Traveler chortled. "The only thing I enjoyed about my time as a Kul Tiras marine commander was all the action that came my way. Other than that, I was never even born in Kul Tiras."
"Why do you bother telling me this? I did not ask for it."
"Why did you break the mirror in your room when you could have just punched your pillow?"
Maiev pressed one of her diamante daggers against his neck. "For a human, you have quite the tactlessness of a goblin."
He leered at her. "Thank you for the compliment, Miss Shadowsong. Truly, you are easily aggravated by even the slightest of words. I may not even need to insult you; I will just disagree with you and pretty soon, I will be—"
She kicked him from underneath and swung him over the balcony, leaving him hanging by his heels which she held in her hands.
"...hanging by my heels," he gasped. "You have anger management issues, do you know that?"
"Do not push me, human," Maiev hissed.
"Well, I'm glad I did not have my breakfast," he muttered just as he was hauled back on to the balcony. He gripped the bannister so as not to be caught off guard again. "Now why did you pull me back up?"
Maiev seethed. "Do not tempt my wrath."
The Traveler shrugged and straightened the creases in his undershirt. "I know you want to know more about your brother. Besides, he has not been around...since that godforsaken war way, way, waaay back then...as far as I know. That was...quite a long, long time ago. Give or take, ten thousand years? The first invasion of the Burning Legion, ah, yes. That's right. When Queen Aszhara lost her wits and decided that inviting hordes of demons into Azeroth would save her people. What an idiot."
Maiev bit her lip upon mention of the traitor queen. "Your knowledge of us is impressive. I am curious to find out how you learned so much of us."
The Traveler crossed his arms. The arrogance disappeared from his face, replaced by a demand for attention. "The Kul Tiras academic libraries—well, those that weren't sacked by the Scourge—is a treasure trove of written history. Also, your brother and I got along better than the rest so he would not resist to tell his side of the War. Besides, no one bothered asking about his dying mate and that was just a tad shame. Someone had to console a mourning soul..."
She cut him off. "Jarod has a mate?"
"Ah, of course. I forgot. You haven't seen each other in millennia. Yes, he had a mate. She was ill for quite some time. Your friends at Darnassus tried their best to heal her but 'tis a painful reality that even the greatest healers have their limits." He spat over the balcony, muttering bitterly under his breath. "What a crock that part of life is."
"Speak clearly to me!" the Warden ordered. "You do not talk to me like I am some inebriated sailor. I am the guardian of the Betrayer, I am..." She bit back on her tongue.
The Traveler observed her recompose herself. "'Guardian' of the Betrayer? Don't you mean 'jailor'?"
"Tell me about his mate," she calmly requested. "Please."
He crossed his arms. Knowing this Kaldorei Warden, he was sure her keenness allowed her to ascertain the tastelessness in his mouth. "Her name was Shalasyr. And she was a mother to us, bastard children...left to rot in the streets. She brought me to your brother, seeing that she was one of the few people in my life who convinced me that everything had a purpose." He chuckled hoarsely. When the Warden made no sound, he continued,
"It was a hassle trying to convince the guards to let us use the portal that led to your capital. Xenophobic fools. But when they saw Jarod coming over, they bended their rear and spread their cheeks almost immediately."
Maiev strafed her dagger across the table loud enough to be heard. "I will not tolerate your vulgarity of my people."
The Traveler cocked a brow. "Aren't we all vulgar about anything? Your people threw a hero's welcome for your brother while he was carrying a dying woman in his arms!"
"Jarod had disappeared for millennia," Maiev snarled, "It would be natural for my people to welcome him home."
"Yes, yes. Throw in a feast while a woman no one even knew was fighting for her life. At least the feast came after she passed."
"I do not like your tone."
"What is done is done, what has been said cannot be taken back," the Traveler spat. He paused to let the tension die. He did not appreciate getting all worked up so early in the morning. And about Shalasyr, too. "Jarod believed you were alive even though everyone in the city thought you were dead, lost to the abyss of Outland. We did not stay long in Darnassus. Shalasyr's passing strengthened his purpose or some other. I left to pursue other goals.
"My working relationship with your brother has remained as it was when we last talked: fairly mutual. Last I heard, they had traveled to Outland to pursue reports alleging that a certain Kaldorei prisoner was held by a sect of Broken Draenei. If you ask me, Jarod would be tearing through your old prison cell, calling out your name."
"He will find only the Deathsworn," Maiev replied. "If what you say is true, then I can only hope and pray that Akama will not be hostile to him."
The Traveler huffed and started downstairs. "I will be leaving in a while. If you want to come with me to the next town, feel free. But if you want to go Darnassus, you are on your own."
Maiev watched him dip below the staircase. Then she realized that she forgot to thank him for taking her mind off things. The void was there, yes, and she accepted it, albeit painfully. With the Betrayer's words repeating endlessly in her head the previous night, she was very grateful for this break from the haunting monotony. It had nearly driven her mad.
An unresolved curiosity came in place of her resolved anger. When she wandered the abyss of Outland, she did so without a purpose or goal. She had already fulfilled her task as witness, judge, and executioner. After that, she had nothing else. Nothing to do, nowhere to go... No purpose to pursue...
And now this insensitive cretin of a human tells her that Jarod is alive and looking for her. The thought was absurd yet...she grudgingly confessed that she believed him.
Maiev Blinked downstairs to intercept the Traveler before he departed. "You are coming with me to Darnassus," she ordered.
The Traveler sighed. "No, no. I told you, if you are—"
"I am not taking 'no' for an answer," she said, her umbra once again pressing against his throat.
He groaned so hoarsely that Maiev honestly thought that humans were incapable of sounding exactly like constipated furbolgs.
"Very well," he acquiesced after a long while. "Damn night elves..."
Akama smelled the scent of the Kaldorei long before they had passed the antechamber. As such, he gave orders for his guardsmen to stand down, giving his guests an unsettling welcome. When he finally met with his visitors, an odd bunch of elven warriors accompanied by their human and dwarven mercenaries, he quickly recognized the striking resemblance between their Kaldorei commander and the captive that he once stood guard over.
Introductions were quick, albeit tense, and Akama demanded to know what business Jarod Shadowsong had with him.
"Word is that you have charge over a lone prisoner somewhere nearby," the night elf began.
Akama observed his band, seeing that they were ready to pounce at the slightest hint of action. The silhouettes of his experienced elites stood rigidly atop the flanking columns and cracked walls. "I once did. She has been released."
Jarod's reaction was as he had expected; muted surprise revealing nary a touch of sadness. "I see."
"Have you any relation to Warden Maiev Shadowsong?"
The Chieftain of the Ashtongue tribe easily read the relief coming from the night elf. "She is my sister."
"Ah, I see now," Akama remarked rather too calmly. "Many have come here attempting to reclaim her. They would present themselves as liaisons, relatives, long-dead siblings..."
"Is that so?" Jarod asked acidly.
"Yes. I cannot tell you much more than that for they were either turned away or destroyed. However, you are far more genuine than any of the impostors to present themselves before us."
"How so?"
"A fraud would normally say, 'I am her brother, or sister, or cousin, or sort.' You, on the other hand... You said, 'She is my sister'. Placement of words denotes everything. True enough, that is honesty enough for me to tell you, once again, that she is no longer here."
The night elf cocked his head. "But she is still alive. Right?"
"Commander Shadowsong"—Akama found the title tastefully odd since he always referred to the name Shadowsong with the preffix of Warden—"you have heard that the Lord of Outland Illidan Stormrage has been felled. He...perished, or rather, was burned to ash by the vengeance of your sister. She has fulfilled her task but she is now lost and confused. She wandered away from here shortly after. I am sure she has returned to your world by now."
Jarod watched him. It was an answer he half-expected. He felt the tip of pointed ears wriggle, feigning his disbelief at what he had just heard. However, the times had been desperate recently and he was willing to take anything he can get no matter how shady it was.
"Very well. Thank you for your time, Chieftain," he bade.
The Broken had blocked the corridor leading to the outside. Akama subsequently turned him around. "Since you are here, we could use some help in purging these annoying demons from our lands."
"I have come only to search for my sister, not to aid you in your warmongering," he groused.
"You sound exactly like her. Alas, I cannot allow you to leave so early." The sound of blades scraping against their sheaths instigated the supervising Deathsworn into doubling their numbers, a feat achieved in less than a minute much to the astonishment of Jarod's motley crew. Akama stood down his guardsmen once again.
"Please, let us leave," the night elf requested, his hands clinging to the hilt of his drawn sword. "I do not wish to harm you."
"Even if we were to enforce our will upon you... Well, circumstances are unfavorable at this point. The demons are blocking the roads to the gates that you intend to pass through. You have noticed the sudden activity among both the Horde and Alliance settlements, have you not?"
"How can you be sure of this?"
Akama offered him a rolled scroll, bound by a thick bright thread. "My scouts have informed me about this development just before you marched in here." He waited for Jarod to accept his gift. "That scroll is one of many items that we are willing to share with you. It replenishes the strength of your warriors should you exhaust yourself against the demons."
Jarod sighed. His men waited his orders, seeing as they were on edge from this meeting. It was a mind-grinding journey just to get this far and it would be mind-grinding again to get out of it. He supposed he had no other choice. "Alright. Take us to these demons."
"Follow me," Akama ordered, leading the charge to the gates of Outland where the fragmented garrisons of the Burning Legion managed to seize Shattrath in a desperate attempt to hold ground.
LAST EDITED: June 14, 2015