Chapter 42
Evelodie and Gorral tumbled through the Wrath Gate portal and landed unceremoniously on the ground just outside Stormwind's grand walls. A moment later, Malakar stepped out gracefully, looking down at them with an amused smirk.
"And here we are," he announced cheerfully, ignoring their disheveled state.
It was midway through the night, and Evelodie and Gorral, utterly drained from the journey and the events in Gilneas, struggled to get back on their feet. Gorral wearily gathered his weapons—the blunderbuss, his claymore, and the polearm he had picked up at the weapon shop—while Evelodie swayed with exhaustion beside him.
"Well, that was fun," Malakar remarked with a grin. "I'm sure you're both ready to collapse. Find the inn and get some rest; we'll meet again in the morning—or perhaps afternoon, so you can sleep." He waved them off casually. "I have some business to attend to."
Too tired to speak, Evelodie and Gorral merely nodded, zombie-like, in the direction of the inn, leaving Malakar behind. They trudged through the quiet streets, their minds heavy, exhaustion weighing them down as they finally made their way to a warm bed.
Once they were gone, Malakar's cheerful mask slipped, his face growing somber in the shadows. He took a deep breath, letting himself feel the weariness he had been holding at bay. His thoughts drifted to Vyaas, the one person who shared a bond with him beyond mere duty. Perhaps tonight, after everything, he might find in her some quiet companionship—a reminder of what still connected him to this world.
Turning away from the bustling streets, Malakar let his gaze linger on Stormwind's towering structures before vanishing into the shadows, seeking out Vyaas.
As Malakar stepped through the orphanage door, he saw Vyaas—inhabiting Crow—standing in the center of the room as if she had been waiting for him. Through Crow's youthful eyes, Vyaas's knowing gaze met his, a small smile playing on her lips.
"I see you had some fun while you were gone," she said lightly.
Malakar managed a smile in return, unsure of how to respond. Being back here with her—no matter the vessel—felt both comforting and jarring. This place had once been a sanctuary for him, and even now, in all its simplicity, it was still Vyaas who anchored him.
She tilted her head. "Give me a minute, and I'll meet you in the courtyard. We can talk." Her tone carried authority beyond her young form, a surreal command from a child's lips, yet Malakar understood. Vyaas was no ordinary guardian here, and Crow was more than her vessel; she was Vyaas's second chance.
He nodded and turned to head outside. As he did, he heard Crow's playful voice in her mind."You like him! Aww, that's so sweet!"Her laugh was lighthearted, like a song.
Vyaas's voice responded, soft and nostalgic."That was another time, child."
In the courtyard, the night air was crisp and still. The two stood in a comfortable silence once Vyaas joined him, her demeanor serious, ready for whatever he had to share. He recounted the night's events in a low tone: their journey through Gilneas, the tense encounter with the Twilight's Hammer, and the deadly attack on Gorral by a cultist assassin wielding void magic—a sign that their adversaries were no longer waiting idly.
Vyaas listened, a dark resolve forming in her expression as he spoke. When he finished, she sighed, looking off toward the dim lights of the city. "The Twilight's Hammer… they're relentless. They're hunting not just me but everyone connected to the void." She paused, a hint of pain in her eyes. "Crow and I… we had a visitor too. A hired assassin, sent by the cult. She didn't survive." Her tone was calm, even cold, but Malakar saw the strain of using her powers, her need to protect Crow at all costs.
For a moment, neither spoke. The silence was laden with past sorrows and future threats. Finally, Crow's tone returned, and she broke into a smile, the childlike innocence in her eyes. "Get some rest, Mister Mally," she said, her voice suddenly high-pitched and exaggerated with mock innocence. "I hear the tavern's reopened!"
Malakar rolled his eyes at her antics. "I suppose a drink is in order."
With that, they parted. Malakar watched her as she returned to the orphanage, both grateful and troubled. Vyaas had made her choice long ago, entwining herself with the girl, becoming her protector. But Malakar knew he couldn't just leave her in Crow's form forever. He would find a way to restore her—even if he had to wrench her soul from the void himself
The afternoon light spilled softly through the high, narrow windows of the Stormwind orphanage, casting warm shadows across the stone floor. Mother Isla moved gracefully through the quiet halls, her worn robes brushing the ground as she checked on each child with gentle, practiced care. The building, as solid and steady as ever, was lined with ivy clinging to the stone walls, an enduring testament to the sanctuary it provided in an often turbulent world.
In the main room, Isla found Crow sitting close to Hanna and Patricia, who were playing with an old doll they'd dressed up as a knight. Crow, with her dark hair partially hiding her watchful eyes, looked relaxed but alert, as if her very bones sensed an unspoken tension. Isla could see the subtle way she leaned toward the other girls, her protective instinct never entirely at rest.
Isla sat beside the girls, folding her hands as she watched them with a smile. "You've all grown so much," she murmured, her voice full of pride. Her gaze lingered on Crow, who reminded her painfully of Evelodie, the girl who had once run these streets, fighting for survival just as Crow had before coming to the orphanage. They all carried such strength, such resilience, shaped by the hardships they'd endured, but none more so than Crow. Though Crow had found companionship here, Isla knew the girl harbored secrets, shadows of her past that even Isla couldn't reach.
As she watched, her thoughts turned to the grim news that had recently rippled through the city. Rumors of an abandoned courtyard where a woman's body had been discovered in the early hours. The whispers told of her face, frozen in terror, her once-vibrant features now gaunt and hollow, as though her very life had been sucked out. Isla shivered; the poor woman, they said, looked like she had glimpsed some horror beyond mortal understanding. Only a few knew the woman's true identity: an assassin, her life snuffed out in pursuit of Crow. But Isla, like the rest of the townsfolk, only knew what was whispered in the market.
"Mother Isla," Patricia said suddenly, pulling her from her thoughts, "will we go on an adventure today?"
Isla smiled gently, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from Patricia's face. "Perhaps. Though not the sort you may be thinking of," she replied with a chuckle.
At that moment, the heavy oak doors creaked open, and in stepped Evelodie and Gorral, both wearing the weary expressions of travelers returned from a long journey. The moment they entered, Hanna and Patricia jumped up, racing across the room with gleeful cries.
"Gorral! Evelodie!" the girls called, tugging at their hands. Gorral, his face softened with a rare smile, let himself be pulled to a seat by the eager children.
Evelodie, kneeling beside Crow, pulled her into a tight embrace. "We missed you, Crow," she whispered.
Crow allowed herself a small smile, the tension in her frame easing a little. As she looked up, her gaze met that of a man standing near the doorway—Lysander, the last hero of Wrathgate, clad in his ranger's armor. He had been a silent figure in the city's watch recently, his eyes sharp and his demeanor guarded as he observed the streets for signs of unrest. His presence reminded Crow of the recent tragedy, of the fear that simmered just beneath the city's surface.
Noticing Crow's glance, Lysander nodded to her with a look that held both respect and a hint of curiosity. He approached Isla, exchanging a few quiet words, and then turned to the children, his gaze softening. "Who's ready to learn about tracking today?" he asked with a small smile.
The girls let out cheers, their excitement momentarily lightening the room. Lysander's presence brought a sense of reassurance; his knowledge of the city's shadows was unmatched, and his watchful eyes kept the darkness at bay, even as the city seemed to simmer with hidden threats.
After the greetings settled, Evelodie took Isla aside, her voice low and filled with concern. "Isla, may we take them to the Trade District? Just for lunch, to get them out a bit?"
Isla smiled at Evelodie, a warmth in her eyes. "Of course," she replied, looking at the children. "That's up to them, though."
"Yes!" came the instant, unanimous reply from Hanna, Patricia, and even Crow, her eyes lighting up in rare enthusiasm.
As they prepared to leave, a familiar voice whispered in Crow's mind.They will never find out, Crow,Vyaas reassured her from within, her tone smooth and confident.You're safe here. I won't let anything happen to you.The memory of last night's hushed meeting in the orphanage drifted back to her, and Crow felt a brief, calming warmth. Vyaas's presence was like a dark but steady shadow within her, one that she trusted with a fierce loyalty.
Stepping out into the sunlight, they wove their way toward the Trade District. The bustling crowd flowed around them, vendors calling out, and the enticing smells of roasted meats and spiced treats filled the air. As the children lingered near a stall of honey cakes, Crow's eyes flicked once again to Lysander, his stance alert, his hand resting on the hilt of his weapon.
Vyaas's presence stirred.Malakar will ensure we're safe, too,she whispered, her voice almost a caress against Crow's mind.Do not let your fear betray you.
Crow tightened her hold on Evelodie's hand, feeling a surge of determination. She was safe, and Vyaas was there, ever-watchful. They stopped at a vendor, sharing pastries and honey cakes, laughter spilling into the street as they enjoyed the small reprieve from their worries.
But as they turned to head back, Lysander caught Crow's gaze, his eyes thoughtful. He stepped forward, keeping his voice low. "Stay close to Evelodie," he advised, his gaze shifting briefly to the alleyways beyond. "There's been talk of… strange occurrences. It's best you all head back soon."
Evelodie nodded, her hand resting protectively on Crow's shoulder. Crow glanced back at Lysander, her lips parting as if to say something, but Vyaas's calm voice resonated in her mind.Don't be afraid, Crow. You are stronger than they know.
With a nod, she let Evelodie lead her back toward the orphanage, her mind at ease despite the shadows that lingered on the edge of her vision. There were threats in Stormwind, whispers of danger and death, but Crow knew she had her own protectors—their power as fierce and unyielding as the shadows themselves.
The streets of Stormwind were quieter as evening began to settle over the city. Evelodie and Gorral walked side by side, the comfortable silence between them filled with the warmth of the day spent with the girls. It felt like a temporary peace, a reminder of what they fought to protect, yet both knew that peace was fleeting, like a shadow on the edge of their lives.
For a while, neither spoke, simply content to walk in step, their minds lingering on the soft laughter of Hanna, Patricia, and Crow. But Evelodie felt a growing need to break the silence, to say something that had been pressing on her heart since they'd left Gilneas. She reached out, letting her hand brush his, and as his fingers intertwined with hers, she felt a spark that steadied her.
"Gorral," she began, her voice soft but resolute. He turned to look at her, his expression curious. Her gaze held his, and she felt the weight of her words gathering. "I love you."
Gorral stopped, his entire body tensing, the revelation settling over him like a wave. He stared at her, stunned, as though he'd been waiting to hear those words but hadn't quite allowed himself to believe them. After all they'd been through—the battles, the losses, the close calls that had bound their lives together—this truth between them had been buried, held back by their shared fear of what it might mean.
Evelodie's hand tightened around his. "I don't know what fate has in store for us," she continued, her voice wavering slightly, "but we can fight it. We can defy it. We already have, haven't we?" Her eyes sparkled with determination. "We've been told we're meant for war, for destruction. But instead… we've found each other."
Her voice softened as she stumbled over the last words. "I... I don't want to pretend anymore."
In that moment, Gorral moved closer, closing the distance between them as he tilted her chin up gently. Without another word, he pressed his lips to hers, a kiss filled with all the words he hadn't been able to say, all the moments they had shared in silence. Evelodie's heart leapt, her arms slipping around his shoulders as she gave herself over to the kiss, feeling weightless in his embrace.
He wrapped his arm around her waist, lifting her off the ground with an ease that made her feel as though she were floating. When they finally broke apart, she saw the light in his eyes—a fire tempered with fierce loyalty and love. "I love you too, Evelodie," he murmured, his voice a low promise. "We've already beaten fate once, and we'll keep fighting it. Neither the Old Gods nor the Light will stand between us."
This time, it was Evelodie who pulled him close, capturing him in a kiss that deepened, carrying them both in a wave of emotion. In that moment, nothing else mattered—the city, the battles behind them, or the battles to come. They had each other, and that was enough.
When they finally parted, Gorral looked at her with a sly smile. "Now," he said, his voice laced with playful intent, "let's find Malakar and finish our business. The sooner we're done, the sooner I can get you to bed and—"
Evelodie pressed a finger to his lips, laughing softly. "Don't spoil the ending now, beast."
With a mischievous glint in her eye, she pulled away and took off down the street, her steps light as she glanced over her shoulder to see if he would follow. Gorral, momentarily entranced, watched her run before breaking into a grin. He didn't waste another second before he took off after her, his long strides quickly closing the distance between them.
Laughing, they made their way to the tram, ready for Ironforge, ready for whatever awaited them next—together.