I enjoyed writing this chapter a lot, I hope you enjoy reading it as much I loved writing it.

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Redemption Of The Unwanted

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Chapter Seven: Two Small Blessings

Leaving my contemplation, I beheld the bustling plaza adorned with jubilant men and women, a heaving Am'ru, and an Eric being dragged away by some guards to Surael knows where.

A faint smile involuntarily graced my lips at the whimsical spectacles surrounding me.

Placing my hand around the neck of Am'ru, I meticulously inspected him for any grievous injuries. Finding none, I was already aware of such, yet miracles and impossibilities still come from unknowns and things beyond my comprehension.

Expressing a reassuring pat on Am'ru's back, I commenced the movement of the carts towards the wooden fortifications of the keep.

My strides were heavy, weighed down by my previous observations. What is the Light? How does its power confer healing upon individuals? By what means did Karnwield acquire the ability to heal? No magic, no external influence I sensed, how?

As the sands of time elapsed, my musings delved even deeper. Were it not for the surveillance orbs I strategically positioned throughout the village, I might have remained oblivious to the approach of the approaching, breathless guard.

Halting a few paces away, his eyes oscillating between terror and astonishment as his gaze travelled between me and Am'ru, "Merchant Jaerel Tonanzuir, I come as an envoy to extend an invitation to Lord Adalbert Adler's Keep. If you would be so kind as to accompany me." Without uttering another word, the guard pivoted and commenced walking with unsteady legs.

I shook my head, approaching the guard and placing my hand upon his shoulder. "Young man, there's no need for haste. Come, sit down and breathe in some fresh air," I uttered slowly to the youthful guard.

He paused and turned towards me. "Thank you very much, Though I have been ordered to bring you with all due haste," the young man replied, resuming his walk, though much more steady then before.

In silence, we proceeded towards the wooden walls of the keep. Constructed from the logs of imposing trees, while the keep inside was made of stone. Neither extravagant nor extensive, it served as a modest stronghold befitting a nascent noble family.

As we neared, the villagers—farmers, fishermen—yielded to a different tableau: training militia, skilled blacksmiths, deft fletchers, and diligent engineers, all woven into the fabric of this secluded bastion.

The resonance of men in training, the cries of youth enduring lessons and challenges, the clash of swords, spears, and maces echoed in a rhythm reminiscent of Jaddar's militant bazaars. These memories conjured images of fathers bringing their sons to be tutored for the impending darkness, when paternal presence waned, and the son ascended to become the family's pillar.

Without realising, we entered into the inner gates of the keep, my ears and mind still reminiscing about the past with the sound of the beating metal.

No sooner had we entered than a bearded man in opulent noble attire approached us. "Welcome, Merchant Jaerel Tonanzuir. I am Leopold Adlar, the eldest son of Lord Adalbert Adlar. I thank you and apologise for the haste imposed by the envoy, but it was a directive from my father directly," Leopold spoke in a soft voice, bowing gracefully.

Returning the bow, I smiled at the Lord. "Not at all, Lord Leopold. I sought to meet Lord Adalbert from the outset, as I wished to discuss a potential trade agreement."

The man reciprocated the smile. "Then my apprehensions were truly unfounded. Either way, I extend a warm welcome to you at Northdale Keep. Would you care to rest before meeting my noble father? I am certain you've had a long journey," he spoke sincerely.

"Thank you for your concern, Lord Leopold. I can postpone rest for a later time. Currently, the discussion with Lord Adalbert takes precedence," I replied with the same sincerity as the soft-spoken man.

Leopold nodded before turning around. "Follow me."

I gestured to Am'ru, directing him to stay close to the carts, and then followed behind Leopold toward the inner hallways of the keep. The hallways were brief but adorned with opulence and the history of the family—clearly designed more for displaying power than withstanding enemy attacks. Understandably so, as they bordered the High Elves and did not anticipate any assaults on the keep.

As our walk progressed we were passed by servants, guards, butlers, petitioners and more, all of their souls were to a certain extent bright, smiling, laughing and joking with their friends, a heartwarming experience.

Doors, hallways, stairways, guards, servants, paintings, armour stands, more paintings, hallways and doors, all passed like a blur in silence, my thoughts as blurry as the scenery left little for conversation between me and Leopold, however the way he neither tried to open a conversation or even hint at interest in my identity left little hesitation for me,

Soon after we were in front of a door that was no different than the hundreds we had passed, but the way Leopold's back straightened and the way his hand fell to his clothes to smooth any folds showed his nervousness, and in more than one way signalled our upcoming meeting with Lord Adalbert.

A room that stood enchanted against any magical spying was in front of me, an enchantment easy enough to break, but that would more than likely alert the occupants inside and outside of the room.

Leopold placed his hands softly upon the door and knocked.

TAT

TAT

TAT

With three soft knocks the door was knocked.

"Enter" Came the voice of an elderly man, old and raspy.

Leopold opened the door.

I was greeted with the sight of two elderly men and their guards, one of the two elderly men was shivering as he looked at me, his brow drenched with sweat and his hands charged with magic ready to cast a spell, but what most intrigued me was the passed out young men lying near the door.

With a shivering voice and hand aimed at me with magic at the tip of it the elderly man nearly screamed at me, "By the authority of the Kirin Tor and the magical city state of Dalaran, I-I-I…." With those words the elderly man vomited his meal and passed out too.

The other elderly man who sat on the other side of the table glanced at me before looking at the elderly mage, with a sigh so tired the elderly man said to me, "I am Adalbert Adler, the lord of Northdale village, and these passed out men are envoys from Dalaran, and they claim that you are a demon in disguise. If you are indeed a demon can you please allow my son to leave first and then you can do whatever you want with us."

I looked between the passed out mages, "I am a not demon, I am a merchant from Zul'Aman, I truly just want to trade, I want neither your souls or your blood, if I anything I just want to trade seeds, farming equipment, fishing equipment, and anything that can feed people. I have more than enough silver and gold to spare." Shaking my head at the cruel joke happening in front of me as I spoke to the lord.

The lord did not speak as he watched me. Seconds passed in silence before he gestured for me to sit, "I will not comment on where you have come from. You want seeds? We have them in abundance, you want farming equipment? We have them. You want fishing equipment? We can provide. However, everything has a price." he spoke.

I nodded, "I have heard you are in need of silver and gold, after all, growing this village to a town, to a city, to a hub rivalling Stratholme would require gold and silver, which I assure you I can more than provide for you, not only that, I can give you the ability to sustain it all by yourself, no need for loans, no need for outside aid, nobody will be able to control you," I paused, "No guilds." I pointed to myself, "No mages" I pointed at the passed out mages, "No man, dwarf, or elf," I pointed at him. "I can provide it for you, you just have to grab the opportunity."

The elderly man's eyes seemed to glimmer in ambition, "How can you provide it for me?" he spoke in such a soft tone that only me and him could hear.

I leaned slowly toward the table, "I can provide you with trade, find shafts of iron, gold, and silver within the mountains nearby, I can aid you in matters even Dalaran can't do. We can start slowly, we can build this land anew. You just have to grab my hand." I extended my hand to Adalbert.

With a silence that seemed to extend to eternity as Adalbert eyed my hand, "What is the catch?" he asked.

I couldn't help but chuckle at his question, "The catch is very simple, trade, trade will always be open with Zul'Aman, be it legally, illegally, I don't care, the trade must always be open, traders will come at a certain point, be it me at the forefront, or others."

That seemed to calm the nerves of Adalbert, "Consider the matter done, but whatever trolls you bring with you, like your troll guard, shall always be covered completely, so as not to bring unrest with them." With that said, Adalbert shook my hand as a handshake was established.

Holding his hand, "Let this be the start of a great partnership." I spoke.

Nodding at me, Adalbert said, "now tell me who you are, because I still don't disbelieve that you are a demon."

I chuckled, "I am a prince…" My story started.

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The silver moon rose high, covering the earth in a soft white glow.

Soft cries rose behind me and my world tumbled down a broken hill.

I hate it, I hate it so much, every night is a nightmare set to go on forever, and I could do nothing to stop it.

I hate myself, for I am a coward.

I hate my brother, for he threw this heavy responsibility upon me.

I hate my wife, for she left me broken in every way.

I hate the light, for it took away everything that I have loved.

I have the light within arm's reach, so close that I can touch it, calm it down, take away their never ending tears. I could have done it, but never did.

Again that daily pain, sorrow and anguish filled me, I feel like the very fabric of my existence is being taken away, like the angels of death are just standing outside, waiting for me to die, to take me away to the deepest pits of hell.

Caw

The soft caw of a raven came through the window, mocking me, laughing at my anguish and pain.

Caw

Its red eyes seemed to hold mine, eyes filled with disgust as it looked at my broken form.

I left the bird as I looked at the meal on top of the table, water vapour no longer leaving the food, no longer adding that small touch of enticement, no longer adding to my gnawing hunger.

"It seems he is not coming." I could not help whispering as despair filled my heart.

I closed my eyes as tears overwhelmed them, taking in the cries of the children, reveling in the pain, sorrow, and deserved hatred.

Step

I am sorry.

Step

I am sorry brother, for I have failed you.

STEP

I am sorry Lina, my love.

Tat

I am sorry O light, your warm light I don't deserve.

TAT-TAT-TAT

"Radość, are you awake?"

My heart nearly stopped, as I heard the soft voice of an angel at my front door, a voice so warm, so soft, so compassionate, that every word seemed to capture the heart, a strength against every ill desire, with a strength I knew not from where. I stood upon my feet.

My feet trembled as did my heart, as the feeling of finality filled me.

Thump

My heart beat as I neared the door, a door of light, the being standing behind it, promising me heavens, beauty, a never ending paradise, rivers of honey and wine, a life without pain, without misery, reunion, love, promises, never ending promises.

Thump

You have toiled enough, You have held enough upon your shoulders, sleep and rest, sleep and rest forever. Soft whispers, the whispers of never ending misery, whispered.

THUMP

I opened the door as the world around me seemed to lose colour.

Thu…

With a sound I never heard, my head touched the earth as the light consumed me in its never ending beauty.

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Sure, I can try to improve your word choice and avoid repetition. Here is a possible version of your story with some synonyms and variations:

"Radość, Radość dammit." With a rush, I turned over the body of Radość as I felt his heart stop, ending his life within my hands, or it would have happened, if not for his soul still lingering in his body yet.

I held the hems of his clothes as I tore them, revealing a body I never saw before.

Meat, skin and even bone rotting inside out. An exposed heart, blood vessels unprotected by skin or bone, rot and mold filled the body, as though as if I was not gazing at a mortal man but the body of an ancient being, so old so ageless that mold and rot was its only adversary.

I cleared my thoughts as I focused upon my task ahead, creating a soft barrier to take the form of the rotted meat and skin around the heart.

I jolted Radość's heart once with an electrical shock.

Nothing happened, but I dared not give up, as dread dropped my heart to the very pits of my stomach, I jolted the heart once more.

Nothing happened, but strength never left my hands as I jolted the heart once more.

Nothing happened, I focused my gaze up to the slowly disappearing soul, I jolted the heart once more.

Again.

Again.

Again

"UNCLE!" Came the two horrified voices of little Isaac and Nūr.

But I ignored them and continued, as I shocked the heart once more with a powerful burst.

"Don't you dare die now, you fucking piece of shit, you have kids to take care of." I swore as I shocked him again.

Again.

AGAIN.

With a blast so powerful that electricity lashed out of Radość and struck the wooden house, setting it ablaze.

Cough, cough.

With a couple of coughs from the once dead Radość, his heart beat once more, but even then, the beats were slow, sluggish, painful, shocking, as the veins themselves seemed to start to rot away.

Under the blazing house, in a world of fire, Radość's gaze did not find my face but lay upon the children. "Isaac, I am sorry, I am sorry for never being the father you wanted, for being so lacking, I am sorry for never considering you as my son, I am sorry for only being able to see it now, only when my heart failed, I am sorry."

With tears filling his eyes, with his beautiful brown eyes golden as they reflected the burning world, "N-no, Don't be sorry, it is because of me, me, me, I never tried, I never ever tried to get closer to you, even though you are like a father to me, I love you the way you are, father." In a tearful hug, Isaac ignored the rotting smell, the rotting body and brought Radość in a heart-warming hug.

Through unknown strength, the rotting hand was brought around Isaac, "I love you too, son."

Radość turned his gaze once towards the tearful Nūr, "Nūr, O Nūr, you are the most beautiful sunshine in the world, for every time I think about you, my beautiful daughter, I feel like the world is just a bit lighter, strength fills me from an unknown place, My beautiful daughter, I am sorry for being the most horrible father you ever had, I am sorry for every tearful night you spent in hunger, I am sorry for never being there to hug you, to calm your spent eyes, I am sorry, I am sorry my daughter."

As though the floodgates broke, small jewels fell from the eyes of Nūr, "Fatheeeer!" In an almost frenzied manner, Nūr jumped upon Radość in a heartbreaking hug.

Seconds passed slowly in the fiery house as the fire consumed it. I did little for I knew what was coming, what was going to happen, and the almost absurd request going to be dropped upon me. I stood there in shock, my heart beating faster than it ever had.

Radość's gaze travelled to mine, "Jaerel, are you an angel?" Every thought within my mind came to a halt, as the scene around me for the first time came to a full register, as the words of the poor farmer hit me.

My eyes slowly filled up with tears, "Yes, I am an angel." I whispered.

The elderly farmer smiled, "Will you hold my children close?"

I smiled too, "Yes, I will hold them as close as you hold them now."

His smile took on a sad tone, "Will you always be there for them?"

The fire fell close, "I will be there for them every step of the way."

As the world seemed to collapse, "This responsibility is heavier than the world itself, fatherhood is heavy, will you be their father?"

A fire rose high and mighty behind me, "I am Jaerel, the chosen of Surael, grandson of Jaddar, prince of The Jadd Empire, and now the father of Isaac and Nūr."

With a smile so filled with joy, so contagious, so filled with love, that even the collapsing world seemed no more than a passing hardship, the last beat of a heart that brought so much joy to the world, died, it died in front of me in a blaze, holding two children, a weighty responsibility.

This is a very powerful and emotional story. I can sense the pain, anger, and love that you have for your new children. You have a vivid imagination and a way with words. Here are some suggestions to improve your grammar and word choice:

With a soft tug of my magic, I lifted up all three as I broke through the charred ceiling.

I rose high until the heat of the fire was no more than a passing wind, before dropping slowly towards a nearby hill that was near the fields, where now men ran with buckets upon buckets to stop the rising fire.

The two kids held onto my legs, their tears never stopped through the entire flight, tears of sadness, sadness so deep, is this how losing a loved one feels? Is this how my brother felt when I died in front of him?

Dropping to my knees, I held the two kids in a hug, my tears already dried as I watched the dead body of Radość, behind him a burning house.

What have I been doing till now? When did I fear responsibility? I am Surael's chosen, I hold the damn world upon my back, so what if it is doubled, tripled, and more and more and FUCKING MORE.

I am Dusk, Twilight, the last rays of the sun, The chosen of Surael, The son of Hideron Tonanzuir, The grandson of the prophet Jaddar Jexiszuir, I am the dream of an Empire made manifest, the second coming of magic itself, ruler of lightning and fire, I am the brother of Elizar Tonanzuir, I am Jaerel Tonanzuir.

Jaerel Tonanzuir.

I looked upon the face of Isaac and Nūr, "I am Jaerel Tonanzuir, Your father gave me you two to become my happiness and sunshine, so would you like to go with me?"

Isaac's tearful face looked up from my waist, "Ye-yes, if my father likes you, I like you too." He finished his response, then turned back again to dampen my clothes with beautiful watery jewels.

The response of little Nūr was much more curious, "Are you truly an angel?" little Nūr questioned.

I brought my hand to her eyes to clean away the tears, "I am your guardian angel, little strong lady." I responded as I kissed her between her brows.

I stood up softly so as not to hurt my little children, I walked up slowly before kneeling down in front of the dead body of Radość, transmuting a permanent mageweave around his body, I covered him from top to bottom, everything but his face, his smile, the soft smile as he left this realm.

I started slowly with the mageweave, making it neither cheap nor simple, covering it from top to bottom with dwarven runes, layered on top of magical runes, I didn't care if the gods of these lands or another discover me anymore, if they dare challenge, come, I am Jaerel Tonanzuir, I fear none but Surael himself, so come and challenge me if you dare.

I AM JAEREL TONANZUIR, THE FUCKING JAEREL TONANZUIR, COME CHALLENGE ME IF YOU DARE.

Slowly the tears, the screams, the fiery world of destruction seemed to slow down, it was neither seconds nor minutes that passed as the kids cried, but hours, and I could do nothing but hug them until sleep overtook them.

I looked around, people were standing around me, whispering among themselves as they looked at my figure holding the kids. The only one brave enough among these humans was the priest, Vor, whose tears still had not dried up as he muttered prayers through his lips.

Vor stood up, the darkness of the night around us slowly disappearing as the morning sun rose in all its beautiful hues. "Jaerel, if you are unable…."

My gaze held his, red and fiery, burning in the same hues of the fire before, "Don't you even dare suggest what you are about to say, I will take care of Isaac and Nūr, by the name of Surael I will treat them like they are my own tribe and blood."

Vor did not dare hold my gaze as he looked at the ground, "Then that puts my heart at ease." the elderly priest nodded.

I did not allow him any room for anything as my gaze pierced Vor, "what sickness was inflicted upon Radość?" I inquired.

Vor's gaze shifted from the ground to my eyes, "it is a curse, a sickness, a demonic ritual, a mix of all three I discovered, a bloodline curse that little Isaac and Nūr now carry, a sickness that will rot them slowly, a demonic ritual, they hear the words of the devil in their ears, the whispers make them go mad."

My thoughts went wild as they started to recall the thousands of books I read in my apprenticeship days, "have you found a cure at all?" I asked.

The elderly priest chuckled, "Do you think I would allow a friend to die if I possessed the cure to his woes? Do you really think so low of me?" the elderly priest retorted sarcastically.

I stayed silent, closing my eyes as my hands never left the warm bodies of Isaac and Nūr, their beating hearts a strength I never knew existed, their faces a cure to every ailing heart, with a soft kiss on the brows of the two of them.

Silence prevailed but not for long, as Vor spoke once more, "are these wings natural or another magic of yours?" Vor pointed at my back.

"Wings?" I turned my head around in shock as I watched the feathery wings that sprouted out of my back, the wings were white, with a captivating orange, golden hue at the tip of every feather, the orange and gold became darker as the end of my wings came closer. However, what intrigued me the most was that they were natural, neither made out of magic nor transmuted into existence through flesh craft.

I am an Avariel by birth, Avariel was the race that gave birth to the harpies and elves, they were called angels, servants of the gods, a race that died out a long time ago within the mortal realm of Halann. Me and my brother are the only known Avariel ever born on Halann since the Inheritance Wars, but even me and my brother were not sure about our heritage, as the only males ever born from a harpy we were in quite a weird spot, are we the mythical beings called Avariel or just pure elves caused by the plans of Surael and Prophet Jaddar? Everything was unknown, but now the wings that seemed to reveal my heritage confirmed everything.

Memories of simpler times seemed to rush like a river through my mind, "you really spoke the truth brother, my form is neither pretentious nor arrogant, it is just the truth, our true selves made manifest." As I touched the soft feathers of the wings, I could not help the words that came with the memories.

My gaze moved from the wings to the priest, "they are natural." I spoke in a tone that all heard, almost every ear of the farmers, guards, militia or even Leopold himself.

I no longer focused on the elderly priest as I turned towards the soulless body of Radość, laying the two children upon a cloud made manifest with my magic, I knelt on the ground and started to dig with my hands, I dug slowly as every small patch of dirt within the palms was removed slowly, prayers and blessings never left my lips in every step of the way, even when men came with shovels in hand and started to dig with me I did not stop.

I only left the hole when the best depth was reached, when my fingers were sore and heavily bruised, only when my blood had painted the bottom of the grave red.

Cleansing my hands in cold water that I conjured, I came close to the body of Radość, where even now rot had slowly started to mar his smile, moving my hands slowly to brush the sweaty hair out of his eyes, I lowered myself slowly until my lips touched the forehead of the deceased.

Normally the bodies of the deceased would be cleansed with water, even in death purity should be given to the deceased, for they deserve every bit of dignity and pride owed to them, but Radość was a special case, for there was nothing under the neck anymore to cleanse.

I held the body of Radość close to my heart as I stepped closer towards the grave, my eyes again filled with tears, but none fell. With my steps being lighter than they have ever been I knelt softly inside the grave as I lowered the body of Radość inside.

I looked at Radość, "Thank you, Thank you for showing me the truth, for reminding me of who I am, Radość, your name I shall always remember, for like your name, you brought me joy, and happiness, even in the grave your deeds shall be forever heard, I promise you that." I spoke in a soft voice only him and I could hear, even the surrounding crowds of people who started their prayer for Radość could not hear.

Standing up from within the grave I picked up the sleeping Isaac and Nūr as I flew away with a flutter of my wings, I headed towards the keep, I flew slowly not wanting to disturb the sleep of the two kids.

I sighed but I could not help the smile that came to my lips.

I had come to Radość's house with meat and bread planning to have a meal and share some stories with the young man and the young strong lady, I never expected death, fire, and becoming a father all in one day, but I don't regret it, I hold little regrets, and I am not going to start now.

A blessing was what today was, a blessing.

Flying softly towards my room in the keep, I entered through the window, there it was, a humble room, neither extravagant nor overly comfortable, with a simple bed, a chair and a desk. I laid the children upon the bed as I sat upon the chair behind the desk.

There was a pot of ink and some parchment that I asked for.

I gazed for the final time upon the children before I started to write my letter.

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I looked upon the letter sent to me, it was neither opened nor tampered with but I already knew what was written.

I could not help but chuckle at the predicament of the Kirin Tor, they thought themselves godly, infallible, all powerful beings, but all they were and are were some old sacks of bones playing at something greater than themselves, and here now they are on their knees begging me for aid.

My eyes did not leave the message as my chuckle only grew more twisted until it transformed into full blown manic laughter.

With a slight itch at the back of my head, I directed the feathered pen to start writing with my magic.

"O powerful Kirin Tor with your many titles, and even more demands and desires: I do not have time to deal with the problem up north, nor the ability to engage in the matter as that is the territory of the elves and they would see my prolonged meddling as an attack on their power and over inflated pride. So O powerful Kirin Tor, deal with the so-called demonic invasion by yourself and please next time send better evidence that can convince an idiot.

From your beloved, powerful, and handsome guardian, Medivh.

PS, please send better candidates for apprenticeship, the last one seemed to have blown himself up."

Again a chuckle broke through my lips. It was not an everyday occurrence that the Kirin Tor could be so panicked over a false alarm. For if there were a demon invasion, the elves would have run to me in numbers trying to get my aid, for they would love nothing more than making the guardian do their dirty work. At the same time, I neither felt Fel magic, nor its disgusting after effects around in the area, though a rush of magic did fill the area north.

Putting my hand under my chin, a rogue mage at most, a powerful one at that, hmmm, not my problem, I deal with demons and their incoming invasions, not with squabbling idiots that have nothing better to do than throw fireballs at each other.

With that soft itch at the back of my mind gone, I looked at the elderly man standing nearby, "Moroes, bring me a cup of hot tea, and that green book with a green fire on the cover."

Moroes' eyes did not leave the ground, "How much sugar?"

"The usu—you know what Moroes, I am feeling happy today, add extra sugar, and bring a cup for yourself too, it's been a while since I have asked about your doings."

My eyes left Moroes as I again looked back upon the message written by archmage Arrexis, the waves of distress coming off the message, and the comical sight of his distressed face, and hurt pride.

Again the manic laughter of Medivh rang through the halls of Karazhan, giving poor Moroes and Cook chills to the very bone.

author: I still feel chills from writing this. hope you enjoyed it.

P,S. Almost had a heart attack when I realised that Radość was named Radomil here because of my friend. He said it makes more sense as a polish name, but for consistency sake I won't change it unless I have to do a rewrite of my story.