It had been almost two weeks since the incident in Dalaran when Hytharion approached Silvermoon City, a place which he had never thought he would want to return. He planned to go to Lord Lor'themar Theron and ask to rejoin his people in Silvermoon. He didn't know if he would be allowed, but he had to try. He didn't know where else to go if he couldn't. He had been to many places in the last several days, but nowhere had really felt like it could ever be his home. He could probably join the Horde with little problem, but that was still the last thing he wanted to do, though if he had to in order to live in Silvermoon, he supposed he would. What he really wanted to do was join the Alliance. As a member of the Kirin Tor, he used to be welcome in the Alliance, and he had decided long ago that the faction's capital, Stormwind City, was where he wanted to live should he ever retire. He didn't think he would be well received with how he looked now, but he thought he would at least be given a chance to explain why he was there and what he wanted. That was unfortunately not the case. As he approached the city, he was forced to retreat when the guards at the gates attacked him before he could even speak. With nowhere else to go, he headed toward his old home. Pain seemed to be little more than a minor annoyance now, and with no need for rest or sustenance, it had only taken a week to reach Quel'thalas. He could have made a portal directly to Silvermoon, but as much as he didn't want to return to his former home, a small part of him wished to see what it looked like now.
The part of the kingdom most affected by the Scourge, nowadays known as the Ghostlands, had barely changed since he was last there. All it was now was a constant tragic reminder of the Scourge's invasion. Diseased and dying animals still roamed the forests, and much of the land was still tainted by the Scourge and their influence. Aside from the small town of Tranquillien, barely anyone still lived there. He remembered his family having picnics in flowery fields and laughing and playing with his siblings. Sometimes, they would go to visit their cousins who lived in another village nearby. Now, little else besides mushrooms grew, and the village in which his cousins once lived was inhabited only by anguished spirits. Much to his relief, the land across the Elrendar River through which he travelled now was much livelier and brighter. Known as the Eversong Forest, it was lush and green like the Ghostlands used to be. He could hear birds singing, had seen healthy deer and dragonhawks here and there, and while there were a few painful memories, there were some nicer ones scattered around as well. He studied an odd-looking bent tree as he passed it. It was there that his mother had begun giving him magic lessons. Spying a small pond nearby, he was reminded that right near there was where his sister had overseen his first deer hunt. He had not been as much of a natural with a bow as she was and had missed the deer completely, but he cherished every memory he had of her where she was still herself.
The forest was not completely free of corruption, however. The Dead Scar, the path that the Scourge had taken on their way to the Sunwell, still marred the land from the Ghostlands all the way to the Isle of Quel'Danas across the sea. Coming to a stop before it, he grimaced at the sad, barren land that was utterly devoid of life. Rotten trees, broken catapults, and the bones of the fallen littered the ground. Part of the city destroyed by the Scourge still lay in ruins nearby. There were not many undead left now, though the land would probably never truly be free, and a few still wandered here and there. As he started to cross, one of them, a skeleton, began shuffling toward him as it dragged its sword on the ground behind it. It looked as if the dark magic that animated it was barely holding it together, and he easily blasted it to pieces with a pyroblast. Overkill perhaps, but it brought him a few brief seconds of entertainment. The charred skull landed before him, still clacking its teeth at him uselessly, and his mood soured again. He kicked it away and continued on, bitter that his sister had made him into one of those monsters. He tried to chase those thoughts away, but it was hard. He knew why she had done it, he understood that she was desperate and grieving... but he still hated her for it. He had discovered that negative emotions seemed to reign supreme in undeath. Anger and grief were the only emotions he could feel very strongly in the days since his return. Others were dull and barely even noticeable, and any positive emotions were rare and frustratingly brief. Even thinking of his family, all he could feel was despair.
As the gates of Silvermoon came into view, three elves came out of the city. He quickly hid behind a tree, peeking out to watch not just Falaria and her companion but Baladir as well, along with another he didn't recognize. Baladir had not been dead after all? He felt an immediate wave of relief wash over him. He had been struggling with his guilt ever since that day in Dalaran. Baladir carried a bouquet of assorted flowers, and as he looked closer, he realized he carried a baby as well. The other elf must have been his wife then. He had forgotten Baladir said he was expecting. Sadness took over once more. His brother was a new father, and he was an uncle, but he felt nothing. Not only that, he had nearly left a newborn baby fatherless. Looking to his sister, he could see she carried a large stone of some sort. Baladir paused for a moment to let her take the lead before continuing, but instead of following the road like he expected them to, they turned toward the wall of the city and followed it east. There could only be one reason they were going that way.
He cast a spell to make his movements silent and quickly followed after them, hiding behind trees and bushes. They turned a corner and stopped before two stones leaning against the wall. He crouched, watching them from behind a bush. Sure enough, it was the place he figured they were going to. Baladir put down the flowers, and Falaria put down the stone beside the others. She knelt and wiped away the moss on the first one. The name stood out, and though the words beneath it had been worn away by the elements long ago, it didn't matter. He remembered writing them himself. BORALIAN FLAMESONG. Age 50. Rest in peace, Father. May your stories live on forever. Falaria finished cleaning the other one. SUNIRA FLAMESONG, this one read. Age 48. Rest in peace, Mother. Wherever you go, may it be worthy of you.
He let out a quiet sigh. I wonder what they'd think of me now... Turning his attention to the new stone, his heart sank as he read the words: HYTHARION FLAMESONG. Age 26. Rest in peace, little brother. Taken too soon.
Falaria dug up some dirt in front of the stone with his name and then stood again. Baladir swayed with his fussing baby as he and Falaria began to murmur a prayer in front of the gravestones. He couldn't hear the words clearly enough to understand what they were saying, but he could tell it was spoken in Thalassian. Falaria reached into a small bag on her belt and pulled out what looked like a necklace. "Hytharion gave this to me to try and make me feel better on my first birthday after Mom and Dad died. I offer it now as tribute." She knelt and gently laid the necklace in the shallow hole. Hytharion raised an eyebrow. Since they couldn't bury his body, they were burying personal things. -I'm not dead, though, not truly... So why...?-
Cradling his child in one arm, Baladir reached into a satchel at his side and brought out a piece of paper. "'Tharion gave me this drawing when he was just a toddler. I offer it as tribute." He passed it to Falaria, who folded it up and put it in the hole before replacing the dirt and patting it down. Baladir's wife wrapped an arm around him comfortingly as they stood in silence for several moments.
"Thank you for showing me where you buried them," Baladir said finally.
"I shouldn't have had to. You should have been here," Falaria replied bitterly
Hytharion could've sworn he heard Baladir grinding his teeth from his hiding place as he turned to her. "Look, I know. I know I should have been here, but I said I'm sorry a thousand times by now. How many more times are you going to make me say it?"
"Why do you think I should accept your apologies? You abandoned us. We finally got over you. We finally moved on with our lives. Then you decide to show up because you don't like my life choices, and now my little brother is dead!" she cried, turning away.
The baby began to cry, and Baladir sighed. Hytharion's heart ached as he remembered the joy he had felt when he held his own children for the first time. "Should I give you two a minute?" Baladir's wife asked, obviously uncomfortable.
"Please," Baladir said as he turned back to her. "Thank you, Relissa."
"Of course." She gently took the baby from him and started back in the direction of the city.
"Don't try pinning this on me, Falaria," Baladir growled as he turned back to her. "If anyone is to blame, it's you!" Falaria spun, slapping him hard. Baladir grunted in pain and stumbled back.
"How fucking dare you!?"
"Ngh! Don't you dare do that again," he growled as he rubbed his cheek. "Even if it wasn't your fault, it was you who brought him back. I can't believe you would do such a thing to him. How dare you? He was distraught, Falaria! Did you really think he would be happy? Did you learn nothing from the Scourge?"
"Mom and Dad are gone, and you abandoned me! He was the only family I had left!"
"I'm here now, Falaria. You still have-"
"No, Fuck you! You were dead to me the moment you left! I brought him back because I didn't want to lose him too! I couldn't lose him too, Baladir! Now I'm alone because you went and fucking killed him again, you goddamn fucking asshole!"
Hytharion cocked his head. What is she talking about?
"I had to!" Baladir cried, sounding desperate in his frustration. "Whatever came back wasn't him! You left before you could see what I looked like after I went to Dalaran, but you still have one working eye, right? I assume you can see my fucked up face? I remember his eyes... it wasn't him. I have several broken ribs, my back is just as scarred as your arm is..." He sighed. "I almost died," he said softly. He tried to reach out to her and take her hand, but she slapped it away. "I have a very severe concussion. The healers didn't even want me to be out of bed yet. Up until a few days ago, I was in a coma. They said I'm lucky to be alive, Fal. I could not in good conscience just let him go and have that happen to someone else, someone who wouldn't be as lucky. So yes, once I recovered my strength, I took a few soldiers with me and hunted him down." He crossed his arms and put his fist to his mouth. -He's still a terrible liar,- Hytharion mused. He frowned, cocking his head slightly. His logic is sound. I'm dangerous. But he hasn't killed me, so why is he telling her that he did?
"That was not your decision to make," Falaria said. "I was about to start tracking him. I wanted to see him, to talk to him one more time. If I thought he might hurt someone again, I would have put him out of his misery. As the one who brought him back, it was my responsibility. You don't get to make decisions for us anymore!"
Baladir blinked at her incredulously. "Did you go deaf? Do I need to speak clearer?" He continued speaking in Thalassian, carefully and clearly pronouncing every word. "I almost died, Falaria! It doesn't matter whether you thought it necessary or not, he needed to go! Was I not sparing you the pain of having to kill your little brother? Or are you now okay with siblicide along with genocide?"
She went to hit him again, her hand a fist this time, but he caught her wrist in his mechanical hand. He must have squeezed it hard as she winced and squirmed, whimpering a little as she tried to pull it back. "Let go!"
"I warned you not to hit me again!" He shoved her away, and she stumbled back. Mira grabbed part of her armour, catching her before she would have fallen into a bush.
"What is wrong with you?" she demanded, approaching again once she regained her footing. "You have never been more wrong in your life if you think I actually -wanted- to kill him!" She was still for a long moment as she glared up at him. He glared back. Hytharion shifted uncomfortably, the tension palpable. "If I ever see your face again, you'd better hope your precious Light saves your ass from my arrows.".
"Anar'alah... So now you're threatening me? Killing one brother wasn't enough for you?" Almost too fast for Hytharion to comprehend, Falaria leapt backward and drew her bow, an arrow nocked in a mere second, and Baladir already had his sword drawn by the time Hytharion looked back at him only a second later, looking prepared to defend himself.
Immediately, he teleported himself between them. "Stop this!" He couldn't just stand by and watch them destroy each other, though he realized he may have just signed his own death sentence.
They both jumped back in surprise. Falaria lowered her bow as she looked at him for several moments, her eyes wide, then back at Baladir. She threw down her bow and drew her sword as she charged at her older brother, but Hytharion caught her arm and held her back. "Let go of me!" she snarled. He teleported her back to where she had been standing before and shook his head at her. She glared at him for a few moments, her jaw clenched, before turning her glare back to Baladir. "You're a fucking liar! I knew that story was bullshit!"
"I... Baladir sighed. Hytharion could feel his eyes boring into him, but he couldn't meet them. "I'm sorry for lying, Falaria. I know it's wrong..." he said softly. "But I didn't think that he would show his face again, not before I actually tracked him down. I thought the sooner you thought him dead, the sooner you could move on."
Hytharion clenched his fist as he tried to push down the rising anger. "I'm sorry, Baladir. I didn't mean to hurt you as badly as I did, but I'm still me. I'm still your brother."
Baladir pointed his sword toward him, and his voice shook slightly. "Don't speak to me, monster! M-My brother is dead. You're nothing more than an unholy abomination possessing his body!"
"Bal, please, I'm sorry. I-I know you said I almost killed you, b-but you're fine now, right? Besides the concussion, there's no lasting damage?"
"Even if that were true, you think that would make this all okay? Look at me!" Swallowing hard, Hytharion looked up at his brother. He winced as he saw the damage he had caused. His face was badly bruised, and his sword had connected better than he thought it had. His right eye was scarred and useless. "You blinded my eye. I missed the birth of my daughter because of you. Whoever you are, you're not my brother. Go. Get out of here."
"Please," Hytharion said quietly. "You wouldn't merely warn me if you didn't still see me as me, Bal. I know I fucked up, and I don't expect your forgiveness. All I want is for you to accept my apology." He still felt hate for him. He probably always would to some degree, but he knew that deep down, there was still love for his brother somewhere. After what he did, he didn't blame him for not feeling the same way, but to say that he wasn't even himself anymore? He only wanted him to know that he was truly sorry. He wanted him to see that he wasn't a monster, but... Who am I really trying to convince here?
Baladir raised his weapon, and Hytharion quickly teleported himself out of range. "Please, Bal, come on!" Baladir's hand glowed as he raised it. A golden hammer suddenly came from above, too fast for Hytharion to react, and hit him hard in the head. Stunned, he barely managed to stop himself from falling over, but before he could recover, the earth beneath him began to glow. He cried out as he started to feel as though he was burning, though no flames surrounded him and his skin looked untouched. The pain brought him to his knees and blurred his thoughts too much to concentrate on anything. He managed to look up, and his eyes widened as his brother strode toward him. His eyes shone intensely as his body glowed with the power of the Light. Bright, golden wings appeared on his back, aiding him in looking even more intimidating.
Falaria stepped forward slightly. "Baladir, wait..."
Baladir ignored her. Hytharion felt fear and panic course through him. "Bal, I'm sorry, please!" No! I can't die again! I can't go back! He attempted to crawl away, but as Baladir got closer still, he found himself paralyzed by the pain. "Aghh! Please! I-I'm sorry! I'm your brother! Don't - aghhh! - Don't do this!"
"Baladir!" Falaria shouted. "Stop!"
"No..." he said quietly. "I was a fool to hesitate. I did so because you wear 'Tharion's face, but my brother is gone. It wasn't my brother's eyes I looked into before you struck me. My brother... my baby brother..." His voice broke as he let out a slight sob. He paused and took a shaky breath. "M-My brother is dead," he continued after a moment. "I hold myself responsible and will for the rest of my days, but I refuse to let myself be broken. I will not let you tarnish his name and legacy."
"Baladir!" Hytharion heard his sister shout again. Baladir raised his sword. Hytharion squeezed his eyes shut, preparing himself for his final death.
He heard a gasp. The burning abruptly stopped, and he collapsed, groaning and panting. He managed to lift his head as the pain began to wear off. Baladir was on the ground, the glow around him fading as he coughed and threw up blood into the grass before looking down at the arrow embedded in his side. Hytharion tried to stand, but his strength had yet to return. He looked to his sister, surprised. "Falaria, help him!" She just stood there, staring in disbelief at what she had just done. With a grunt of pain, Baladir tore the arrow out and tossed it outside. He pressed on the wound, blood spurting from between his fingers as a bright glow surrounded his hand. The bleeding slowed, and a few moments later, it stopped completely. Baladir got to his knees, panting and obviously still in pain. Hytharion felt a surge of bitterness and tried his best to chase it away. "Are you okay?"
Baladir looked over at him. "Don't- aghh!" He tried to stand but fell back to his knees in pain. His hand glowed again as he clutched his side. "Do not... speak to me..." he panted.
Hytharion frowned. They both sat there trying to catch their breath for several moments. Finally, Hytharion got to his feet and went to Falaria. "You were content to let him die?" he whispered to her. "I..." She shook her head, obviously at a loss for words as she stared at Baladir, still in shock. As Baladir finally managed to get to his feet and pick up his weapon, Falaria drew another arrow, holding her bow ready.
He stared at her, his eyes shining as he held his side. "Falaria, you... you would kill me in defence of him?" She hesitated for a moment before giving him a single nod. His face contorted into an expression of grief, looking as anguished as the day they lost their parents as he stared at her for several moments. "Fal, please... n-no matter how much it sounds and acts like our little brother, he's dead. A-And it's my fault," he sobbed. "It's my fault... I-I need to do this, I need to make up for it..." He got down on one knee and looked up at her as tears ran down his face. "I need to do this."
"No," Falaria said softly. "Not as long as I'm here."
For several moments, the only sounds were birds singing and Hytharion's leg creaking as he shifted uncomfortably. Baladir shook his head as he stood, trying and failing to wipe the tears away. "Don't you dare come crying to me again when this happens to you," he whispered, pointing a shaking finger at his face. His eyes, filled with sorrow and regret, lingered on Hytharion for several moments before he turned and headed back the way they had come.
Hytharion stood, watching him until he disappeared around the corner. "Thank you," he said quietly.
She turned back to him, eyeing him suspiciously as she slung her bow on her back. "Why are you here?"
He blinked at her accusatory tone. "I have nowhere else to go. I planned to go to Lor'themar and ask to live here again. I saw you and Baladir as I was coming up to the city and decided to follow you."
"So you heard our whole conversation? Then tell me why I saved you. I panicked in the heat of the moment. Tell me why I shouldn't correct my mistake."
"Excuse me? I thought you saved me because I'm your fucking brother, Falaria. Why the fuck did you save me if I have to prove myself to-" He raised his hands in surrender as he suddenly found the tip of Falaria's sword at his throat.
"Are you really going to finish that question?"
"No. No, I'm not." He took a deep breath before slowly pushing down her sword with one finger. "I'm working on it, okay? I... I-it's hard. Harder than you'd think. But I'm trying."
She stepped back, shaking her head. "You burned me. I saw the rage in your eyes, and it was terrifying. It was like it wasn't even you. Then the next day, you go and very nearly kill Baladir. From the sounds of it, he would've died if your friend had found him a minute later." She let out a sad chuckle as she wiped her eyes. "What's next? Who's next? 'I'm trying' isn't good enough, Hythe. You almost exploded again just now. How can I let you go when I know you're a fucking ticking timebomb?" She brought up the sleeve of her tunic to show him her arm. It was severely scarred, and there was the outline of a handprint where he had grabbed her. "The paladins were able to heal my arm, yes, but I don't have any sensation left," she said, her voice shaking. "I can't feel my bowstring, my arrows, anything! I'm forever scarred, and so is Baladir! How, Hytharion? How can I let you go when I know this might happen to someone else?"
"To be honest... you shouldn't," he admitted with a sigh. "But I'm working on it, on controlling my emotions. I promise you I won't explode again, and if I do..." He swallowed hard. He wasn't sure he could live with himself if he did such a thing again. "No... No, I refuse to let that happen again. You have my word that I... I will kill myself if it does. If I go back to wherever I went to before..." He closed his eyes as he shook his head, trying to rid himself more of the sensations than the images that assailed his mind. He remembered feeling as if his very soul was being torn to shreds. "I-I don't know where I went when I died," he said as he opened his eyes again. "I-It was dark and terrifying... but I deserve it if I hurt someone else. I know you have no reason to trust me, but please, believe me when I say I won't let that happen again. I won't let my anger control me. I will control it, and I will use it to protect my family and ensure my children grow up in a safe world."
Her expression grew deadly serious, and the next thing he knew, he was against the wall, her sword at his throat again. He felt it cut into him as she pushed. "You stay away from them. I will not let you near them, do you understand me? Baladir told them you died. I think that's for the best."
"I understand," he gulped. While he had hoped that Baladir hadn't told them, part of him was grateful.
"Good." He breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped back. "I don't want to kill you, Hythe," she said softly. "But if I catch wind that you hurt someone again, I will track you down. Do you understand?" Saying nothing, he gave her a nod. She nodded her satisfaction back and sheathed her sword. Mira snorted at him and followed as she turned to leave. She paused and glanced back. "Thank you for taking care of me. I realize now that you were right. Your words hurt, though. It's going to be a long time before I can forgive you. So please, if you ever want to talk to me again, I'd be glad to see you, but I need some time to myself. May the light of the sun guide your path. Shorel'aran." He watched her go until she was out of sight, then, letting his anger escape, he turned around and screamed his pain as he incinerated the flowers, immediately turning them into a small, smouldering pile of ash. Turning his attention to his headstone, he threw fire at it and kept going until his mana was exhausted and it was reduced to a smoking, half-melted pile of molten rock.
Letting out an anguished sob, he fell to his knees, exhausted, before the headstones of his parents. "M-Mom, Dad... W-What do I do? I have no one left..."