Triadae floated. First on a torrent of pain, and then on a sea of contentment, she remained completely unaware of anything but the fact that she was rocking back and forth endlessly. In the distance, she could make out the sounds of moving, of shouts and screams and cries of pain, but only if she focused hard enough. Only if she focused more than she was willing to. Cold steel had warmed to her face while she cowered in the corner of her hanging cage, not wanting anyone to touch her. For the first time ever, one might have thought she was truly broken.
Someone had already visited her while she had been asleep. Her ankle was completely healed, as was a good deal of the rest of her. No longer did her body ache from the beating it had taken when she attempted to flee, but it brought her no amount of comfort. She knew what they wanted from her, and peace was not a gift that they would give willingly. It was far more fun, she knew, to break a person from absolute health and hope.
Triadae relished the thought of it. She wanted to see if they could break her as easily as they thought they could. In her cage, she was the bravest person around. Until she remembered who would be harming her. That much, at least, frightened her. She wouldn't show it as she knew everyone wanted to, but she was going to have to make good on a promise that had been made years ago when they had worked together. It had always been hypothetical, neither of them believing that the other would ever fall to such a level, but both had promised. No matter what, it would be forgiven.
They came for her after another attack, when her mind had finally released itself from the sleepy thoughts it had been hiding beneath, and she registered the rough hands of the ogres on her skin. She remained still, so much so that one of them prodded at her chest and questioned the other as to her state. Smart idiots, those ogres. When she at last lifted her head enough to glare at the one who carried her, they both grinned stupidly and trudged off with her.
Where they took her, she wasn't certain. Her eyes were closed the entire way, not wanting to give them any reason to do something more to her than they were allowed. Let them think she felt fear when she felt none at all, let them think she shivered in remorse when all that she shivered in was anticipation. The ogres took her deep into a cavern, talking between themselves while she simply allowed them to carry her over one broad shoulder, her eyes glazed and watching the ground.
She would say nothing. It mattered not what they did to her, or what they made Kalthor do to her. They could inflict a world of pain on her, and she would stand strong and remain as she always had. For the sake of those who counted on her, who she had brought this far, she would give the ones who chained her nothing at all. But she knew that the bravery she managed on her own would do nothing for her when the time came. She had seen greater men and women than she fall beneath the lash, and she knew that she would face that same thing.
Still, she hoped that all of her bravado would bring them safety. Even now, though she knew the other four would be watched closely, she hoped and prayed to a being that would not listen to her any longer that they were safe. She was ready to die for them, even for Leybright.
Leybright had been a mistake. A horrible mistake, and not simply just because she had jeopardized everything that they had worked for. Combining Leybright with Kalthor had been trouble waiting to happen, and now they all would suffer for it. Yet she felt no anger, no remorse. This was simply how things were done, and how things would be. Triadae no longer cared what went on behind closed doors between those two. In her eyes, both were traitors... but she'd die for the both of them, rather than doom all five of them by calling them out.
She grunted as she was moved, settled roughly on the ground with thick shackles around each of her ankles, a chain strung between them that would not allow her to do much more than shuffle from one place to the next if she were allowed. She would not be, her arms secured above her head with iron chains that were warm from the heat of the cavern she was in. Her head hung, giving the air of one who felt defeat, though it annoyed her greatly. Her sheared hair prickled at her neck, making it uncomfortable and irritating, something she couldn't get rid of.
When the ogres left her there, she threw her head back to get the hair away from her skin, sweat already beading on her forehead. It was the first glimpse of her room that she had gotten, and she was none too surprised to see that the Twilight were not creative at all in their manner of interrogation. All the regular instruments of torture were present that she might have expected. How they had gotten them there was beyond her, but she found that she really didn't care to know, either.
All that was important was that the items were there, and now she was as well. Her head tipped further back, examining the chains that held her. The loop that they had bound the chains to was attached into a sort of socket that enabled her to spin if she wished; or them to spin her if she did not. Not expecting anything fantastic, she dropped her weight and lifted her legs, testing the hold of the loop. As she expected, it held firmly. That much, at least, she could credit to her captors.
She was alone for a handful of minutes more, and by then she had settled herself on an outcropping that just barely reached close enough for her to do so. Her long ears picked up the steady footsteps long before she saw him, but she didn't need to look up to know who it was. Those footsteps had dogged her own for years now, and she knew them better than any other. To mask her deep-seated foreboding, she assumed a manic grin, raising her eyes to meet his face from beneath the fringe of her bangs.
"Eat." It was a command, devoid of the laughter and snide joy that she was accustomed to from the one who had been her friend. A tray was dropped at her feet, filled with things that no normal person would have consumed even if they had been starving. The very crusts of the horrible gruel they served to their ranks. Triadae stared blankly at the offering, and then spat at it and turned that grin back on Kalthor.
"I'm afraid I'm not hungry. You should take that back to your friends. They'll need their strength, after all."
'Please, Tria.' His face didn't change, but she heard the voice in her mind well enough. 'I'm not going to let you starve.'
She didn't answer him, keeping mind and body silent until he finally turned away and ran his fingers through his hair. The very act of it seemed to clear his mind, though he spun the golden strands through his fingers while he spoke to her. 'They cut your hair. Do you remember when you finally had to cut it after the fire? You didn't say a thing then, either. Whatever is attached to you just doesn't matter, does it? They're going to break you down until you beg, you realize. You will beg, no matter how much you think you won't. This isn't pretend anymore. This isn't us saying that we'll survive. If I let up on you, they'll kill us all.'
Triadae laughed. She didn't stop the sound until others came into the room, throwing looks between Kalthor and their captive as the one just laughed at the unmoving other. She nearly crowed when she kicked her foot and caught the tray, sending it skittering across the floor and throwing its contents across the bottom of his robes and shoes. When her laughter died away, it was only so that she could fix his eyes with her own, daring him without words.
"So be it." Kalthor turned on his heel, gesturing to two of the newcomers to approach her. They did, and without effort at all, they spun her to face the wall that she had been reclining against. Triadae heard the snap of the whip behind her, but nothing came down on her for another minute or so. The air was thick with more than just heat. It was as if those who watched knew of the relationship between the two, and were waiting for the moment where one of them broke down.
Neither did. Not when the crack of the whip sounded against skin, not when the skin split beneath the blow into a shallow wound, and not when it curled back to his side. There was no agonized cry, only the clink of the chains as she adjusted herself. Her breathing quickened, the only sign of her distress, and the only one that seemed to matter as the whip came down again and again, licking across her skin, finding the bare spots, and searing the flesh with pain that she would not voice.
"That's enough for now, Felblood."
Triadae heard the whip coil on the floor, and tipped her head back as sweat dripped into the fresh wounds. For a reason she could not explain, that hurt far more than any blow on her skin. She shifted, squirming in her bonds as the stinging became searing pain. Delicate fingers brushed along her hips before poking at the lowest of her lashes, and only then did she make any noise at all.
"It's a shame that you're little more than a problem to me." The woman spoke over Triadae's roar of pain, still twisting her finger into the wound. Unknown to the bound woman, the finger was salted, and slowly worked beneath skin. "I had received such promising reports about you and the others who came with you." Her finger withdrew, leaving her captive whimpering and slumped. "I've become quite jaded when it comes to what comes out of this camp, do you know? I half expect the ones they train to trip over their feet and fall into lava before they actually become useful. But you..."
The silver-haired woman gripped Triadae's side and spun her to face the crowd again. With uncanny grace, she turned away and ran a finger along Kalthor's jaw. "This one is very good when it comes to finding out information. He's torn secrets from even the most resilient of commanders. He claims to not know you, and I believe him... I will give you that much. However, I am determined to bring every secret you know from the very depths of your soul. So we will begin simply. The bull and the troll."
Triadae lifted her head just enough to shoot a glare at Kalthor. Each held the eyes of the other, and neither betrayed anything as she spoke. "Met them on the way here. They had no ideas of my intentions. For all they knew, I was just like them." Now she tore her gaze from him, placing it on the slim kaldorei. "Willing to hand the world over to the flames."
"Indeed. It was rumored that they were quite close to you." The woman reached to scoop a handful of white crystals from a tray nearby, letting them sift through her fingers while she let the question hang.
"It's easy to get men to talk if you know the right tactics, wouldn't you agree?"
"Ah. Is that how you've gotten to your place in life? Some would spread their hands in submission, but you'll spread your legs?" Her lips twisted in wry satisfaction as she watched Triadae flush. "Come now. You're too good to have done something like that. A soft bed and gentle touch might get you rank in city politics, but not in a war. Let us try that one again, hm?" Another handful of salt was palmed, and she rolled the grains in her hand while she circled the prone woman.
Triadae struggled mentally, chewing over a response while she considered something more feasible, and came up dry. Silence lingered for an amount of time, until at last her body had begun to tense all on its own in anticipation of what she knew was coming. The woman's hand slid up her side, and crushed her palm against a wound, grinding the salt into the bleeding muscle. Triadae screamed, a long noise that died to a whimpering sob. Still, she could say nothing.
As the minutes passed, the woman repeated her actions on every lash mark, never once hurrying. She was giving the warrior time to respond, time to lie or confess, and was meeting head on with strength that Triadae didn't know she even had. When the blood had stopped, soaking into the crystals, and the salt had been layered so thickly that it formed a bloody, crystalline scab over the flayed skin, the woman sat down and brushed her hands together.
"I was like you, once. Willing to stay quiet for the people who mattered to me. Then all of this happened." Her hand moved, encompassing the area. "When I first came here, I prayed that the ones I had called friends would come and find me. One of them was even a lover to me. I loved him dearly, but he had already moved his sight onto one of those corrupt humans. You've seen them, I'm sure. Walking about like a beast in the form of a man." She propped her chin in her palm, meeting Triadae's gaze with a calm and detached one of her own.
"But they never came for me, did you know? The druid who I had rescued from a hunter's trap, the man I loved, and even the dwarf that I tolerated because she was my love's best friend. They never came. So I stayed here, and I realized that they were scared. Look at what the world has become! Flame is engulfing everything... and as the heat advances and the world is turned to ash, I have seen the greater plan. All the pain of the past will be gone, and we will start anew. Like... plants." She tossed her head, silver hair settling around her shoulders.
"I learned that the only person you can rely on in this world and the next is yourself. Who you choose to follow doesn't really matter. The truth is that most of the people I know right now, whether they stand as ally or as enemy, will be wiped from the world when this is all done. Those who were faithful will remain, and walk as the new races."
"You're mad." Triadae spat blood, running her tongue along her split lip. "You're slaves, nothing more. If you win this, if everyone fails to stop you, do you really think that you'll be living as anything more than a servant of the ones you've sold your soul to?"
"At least I will live. Here you are, alone. What do you fight for, I wonder? For your people? One of them just set twelve blows upon your body. Who is to say that others would not do the same? Freedom, perhaps. What is freedom if you will be dead before you can see it?" She laughed, and the others in the room tittered along with her, all except Kalthor. His expression was unreadable.
"They sent you to your doom for nothing more than tipping this entire battle in their favor. How many more do you think have done the same thing, and see nothing but the soil on their graves? You are brave, and I will be the first to admit such a thing. Bravery does not make you immune to foolishness. If you scream, none will hear it. Your body will give out, even if we cannot crack you and find out why you are here and what you know. If you gave in to me, I could promise that you would live." She paused, her head cocked while her eyes narrowed.
Triadae was laughing. With open wounds that had been salted, with sweat slowly dissolving the salt and driving it further into her wounds, one might have thought she had finally lost it. Those who knew better knew that she was laughing in honest mirth, and that there was a cruel edge to it. "Promise?" Moments passed while she gathered her thoughts. "Let me tell you the only thing that comes from a promise." Her wrists twisted in their bonds, attempting to alleviate a cramp that had settled into the muscle of her arm. "I promised a man I would love him until the day we breathed our last. I showed him my love, when I damned him for an accident. I promised my dearest friend that I would stand beside him in all things, that I would see him happy, even though I knew he wanted no one else but me. I crushed him by making my own choices.
"I promised my sister that I would take care of her when our parents perished, though I knew I wasn't wanted. Years later, I killed her. I promised my undying faith to the Light, and turned my back on it. I promised men and women they would see their families again, and then I buried them." The chains clinked as she drew breath. "I promised laughter and joy to those who I've only brought pain. The only promise I have now is to myself and you. When I'm dead, I'm going to make your life a living hell."
There was silence for a long time. Triadae's labored breathing was louder than that of the shocked gasps shared between the acolytes, and the shifting of uncertain feet on stone. Then there was clapping. Soft at first, and slow, but it soon sped up until it was a steady sound. The silver-haired woman chuckled, and stopped her clapping as she stood. "A pretty speech, red head. Fine then. Rip the secrets from her flesh. I want to hear her screams from above ground, but don't let her die just yet. No... not yet.
The woman left, and several of the others followed along behind her, whispering between themselves in excited, detached glee. Three remained behind, looking between Triadae and Kalthor with something that was approaching curiosity. Mustering her strength, Triadae threw Kalthor a mad grin, her voice rough, but taunting. "What are you waiting for? This is what you live for, isn't it?"
'Don't make me do this. I'm begging you.'
"I'll forgive you, of course. Isn't that what I promised, years ago? Part of my vows when the Light was actually something I cared about." She forced her voice louder, giving them the show she knew they craved. Light knew that the poor things probably didn't want to run from another flame elemental, or swing another pick at ore that wasn't used. "I'd pray for you, but I'd ask the same of you, and I'm afraid the only praying you do anymore is between the legs of your goddess."
'Stop it!'
"Of course, when you're done with her, you'll get on your knees and worship the flaming balls of your precious 'god.' May he burn your liar's tongue from your mouth while you service his glory. Don't you worry, though. When I'm dead, I'll pray for the forgiveness you're too proud to ask for. Maybe the Light will understa – ah!"
The whip cracked, and she screamed. The pain lasted until the nerves stopped screaming, and blood dripped freely down her leg. Even then, she did not stop.
"Is that all you can do? Light, no wonder you could never actually take what you wanted. You have no force to your strikes. I've seen wet noodles hit – ah! - harder than that. Ah! Oh, please. Death take me quickly, I don't think I can stand this tickling!" She twisted in her chains, tears running freely down her face while the whip came down again and again across her skin. Minutes passed, her taunting died as her voice gave out, and then finally there was no more moving. Her mind clouded, and she barely caught the sight of one of the remaining acolytes scurrying in with Leybright right behind her before everything went completely dark.
The days passed methodically. Triadae would wake up sore and tired, but in one piece with sealed wounds that had left just lines across her skin. On the second day, they chained her to an altar and slowly burned her skin with rods of heated metal, until her screams had died and she had begun to cough blood from how raw her throat had become. Triadae woke the next day with the remnants of the burns, some forever branded into her skin. Whether it was merely a reminder, or just how the healing process was done, she didn't know.
The third day was comprised of heated nails driven into the skin of her fingers and toes, and the fourth was much the same, save for the loss of the nails of both after needles coated in a tar like substance had been thrust beneath the nails themselves, and they were pulled off with tongs. The fifth day, they took turns breaking her fingers and toes. Her legs and arms were struck with hammers until the muscles themselves screamed louder than anything else. Even if she wanted to say anything, she could not. Her voice was gone, her mind cowering away. All that settled in her sights were the faces of her tormentors, though Kalthor's always was blank, as if he had no features at all.
The sixth day, they cloistered her in a chamber that forced her to stand, and was just large enough that she couldn't touch the walls. There was no light to be seen, not even if she turned her head upwards to see where the ceiling was. There was air, there had to be for her to survive, but there was nothing more than that. Around her feet, the floor was flat enough for her to stand upon with no problem, but her toes frequently brushed against razor sharp rocks that were quick to draw blood.
By the evening of that same day, she was in pain. Her ankles and legs had swollen, and she could feel sores on the bottom of her feet. Still, they did not come for her. If she began to waver and fall asleep, her body leaned and she stepped to brace herself, and would find the rocks there to puncture her feet and blisters. It was not long before she was out of tears from her pain.
The noises started then. Her mind would drift, her body warm from pain and possibly fever, and she would begin to fall into the first moments of sleep when there would be a slam from one of the walls. It startled her, raising the hair on the back of her neck, but there would be silence again. She would begin to fall asleep again, and then another sound would wake her. Again and again, they let her surrender to sleep only to jerk her awake again. Hours later, she heard other noises. The chittering of spiders, and the room rang with her screams, and she had no care how shredded her feet became as she beat her hands against the walls until they were cut and bleeding.
They waited until her voice was gone, until she was moving her lips with no sound at all, before they allowed her out of the room. The silver haired woman was back, her lips twisted in a grim smile while she watched them pull the whimpering warrior from the room and dropped her to the ground. Instinctively, Triadae curled in on herself, hiding her eyes from even the dim glow of the room around her.
"You've been granted another chance, pretty thing." The woman crouched beside Triadae, brushing hair from her face and touching along the cold and clammy skin. "Give in, and you will be given all the power you need to make right all that has been done wrong to you. Your strength has impressed others, others who can give you all that you want. One word will save you from this agony. One word."
The room went quiet. Triadae's eyes opened slightly, and she could see the figures of Leybright and Kalthor watching her. As her vision cleared, she saw the worry in their eyes, the fear that painted Kalthor's face. She could see his wrist, where Leybright was gripping him so tightly that both of them were trembling, and she smiled. Not one of madness or defeat, but one of acceptance. The silver-haired woman shifted closer, and Triadae managed the last of her strength for one final action. Deprived of drink, she bit her lip hard enough for blood to flow, and spat the liquid at her tormentor.
The woman recoiled, wiping the blood from her pale cheek with a growl. "Then die! In the morning, you will be made an example. You will burn in the master's flames, as all who oppose us will. Take her back. Don't tend anything that won't kill her." In a storm of rage, the woman left and most of those present followed once more. Triadae slumped, falling to her back and taking a deep breath in. By the time Kalthor lifted her, she was asleep.
She did not resist when they came for her in the morning. Or what she assumed was the morning. They had her in nothing more than a purple shift, barely enough to cover her, but she no longer cared. What was modesty in the face of death? She welcomed it, and she grinned as the acolytes who dragged her from her cage became unnerved at how easily she came with them. When she began to limp, another picked her up, and she was distantly aware of dark brown eyes and rough fur.
"Druid..." The word felt like knives in her throat, trying to speak was too much anymore. She knew that it was Gandret who carried her, and she had to tell him what she had found. "They... druid..." No use. He wasn't listening to her, trying to hush her words and looking at her with something that crossed between shame and admiration. "Tiroth. Tell him."
Then they were no longer alone, and she caught the dark color of Bruzju's braids somewhere nearby, heard him speaking under his breath as Gandret carried her to the stone that they had set up for her. When he placed her upon it, others came to chain her arms down so that her palms were flush against the stone. On her knees, those around them could see the bloody and jagged cuts in her feet that had begun to fester. Though she had very little strength to do so, she still tried to move, tried to pull herself upwards, and found herself unable to. Beneath the stone a fire had been started, and she could feel the heat slowly making its way through the stone, but a glance upwards made her wonder more what they planned.
Until she thought of how they often cooled homes in the hot months in the southern cities. A windtunnel would help the cooler air from one side of the home move the warmer air out, and so this seemed to be something to do the same. Though she could not feel it, she could see the open sky far above her head, and knew that the flames would be drawn upwards. Even if it was not able to work by mechanical means, they would guide the fire up that way. She would be incinerated, and her ashes would spread over the land. There would be no burial for her.
She would not see the golden forests of Eversong again, and she found that this did not bother her as much as she had thought it might. The blue skies, the open sea... she had always wanted to see the world from the deck of a boat. One day, she had told herself. One day, she would walk away from the wars and bloodshed, and she would sail. A weak smile flicked across her lips, and she hung her head.
If there were words being spoken, she couldn't hear them. The others, all those who had been gathered to watch her, were looking between her and the lithe silver-haired woman who had started this and would now end it. Triadae could only assume that she was praising their superiors, exulting in the defeat of yet another enemy, expanding on the glory of those they had dedicated themselves to, but now Triadae was watching something else.
It was a ripple in the stone around them, as if something undulated beneath the material. Her eyes narrowed on the spot on the wall that she swore seemed to be breathing, and then upwards at the ceiling where thousands of little bumps seemed to be creeping along, completely unseen by anyone but her. Perhaps she was finally going mad, finally broken and just accepting of what was there, and then she saw them.
A crack in the wall formed, and she saw the green eyes before she made out the rest of the form. Before her groggy vision, the eyes went from feline to wolf-like, and then to human. They lost their glow, but she knew those eyes. The stone beneath her was becoming uncomfortably warm, and she shifted in her position, the chains clinking and drawing the attention of those who were listening. None looked where she was looking, accepting her glazed visage as one who had simply accepted the inevitable.
But Triadae was certain of it. Certain that, behind that crack in the wall, there were people there, and she knew them. Dim awareness trickled into her mind as she tried to fight through the past week to figure out who those eyes could belong to, and then the wall split further and the figure slipped out, dressed as all of the others present were dressed. Triadae's eyes narrowed, and then shot wide as a glimmer of flame lit and danced along a mark she could not forget.
So caught in her rapture, she didn't see the other fissures open and close. The crowd never saw the dwarf that shuffled quietly into place, nor the silent and looming night elf that crouched on a stone as if he had been there all along, his eyes glowing brightly in the dim corner he had chosen. She saw another form, curved and pale, silver eyes bright in the tunnel that they still remained in, and the flames that danced beneath her limned the edges of horns.
She was the only one who saw the newcomers, but she was not the only one who made a sound as everything fell apart at once. The room burst into screams as countless numbers of those who had gathered to watch her were impaled by weapons of stone that appeared from nowhere, great spires of earth, stalagmites and stalactites that impaled hordes of fragile flesh in mere seconds only to vanish again. They did not return, useless as the room erupted into the sounds of screams and death, and amongst it all...
… Triadae laughed.