Alorinis walked onto the field, adjusting his gauntlets and giving a final check to his scimitars. The scent of Townlog Steppes was always fresh and filling, something he always enjoyed; the soft grass was perfect to lie down on he had found after his times out here.
“Five left.” He spoke to the open air, a grin playing on his lips.
Months ago Alorinis had been taken before the Council of the Wilds for his crimes against humanity, and by what he would call a miracle, he had not been outright killed. He had been sentanced, a life for a life his penance. Five-thousand innocent lives he had taken in his over four millenia, and five-thousand corruptions must he remove from the world. At first he had never understood, but then Pandaria was found and the horrible Sha within.
Each kill of a Sha played upon his mind, transporting him back to a moment when he had committed a crime. It placed him in the position of the innocent he was going to kill, filled him with their feelings and thoughts at that moment. Each time was harder than the last, never being something he had grown use to. When he went on these advents, he often returned in a horrible sway of emotions, secluding himself for days till he could recenter himself. Eleneill was his saving grace many times, whether it be pulling him off the side of a mountain or just being the arms he needed around him.
He looked again across the field, four Sha milling at the far end, their small forms slothing across the ground, maws snapping at random times, eyes scanning for things to place theirselves within. With a determined step he drew his scimitars, marking his path to the first one; suddenly a severe drop of misery struck him, pervaded his mind and welled within him. Understand it instantly as not his own, he sought at Eleneill through their link.
Elen, are you alright? Do I need to come murder someone?
Before she even responded he turned on the field, sheathing his blades a she prepared to return to her and settle whatever the matter was. The Sha would be there when he was done.
She replied that her misery was due to Him, and before his body could react he gave her a mental nod and left her mind to her privacy. His body froze, his steps grinded to a halt and dug into the ground beneath him. The tremors began soon after, eyes shaking, hands fidgeting.
Moeghyn. She had been with him, again. And he had run, again.
Sublimating himself, he pushed his emotional recoil aside. He turned back to face the Sha, one had turned to his direction but made no movement. His emotional overload had been like a beacon to them, but his sublimation effectively put him at stealth around them.
Now is not the time for my to deal with that, I’ll check on her later. He told himself, with a firm nod and draw of his scimitars.
Tracing his path to the first Sha in his mind, he rushed forward. Feet quickly carrying him forward, chest low, scimitars tight at his side. He came upon the first Sha, only a few paces away, and drew his scimitars out to the side. With a quick turn his right blade careened forward at the Sha, biting into its midsection. Pushing through the strike and twisting himself, his left blade came behind and entered where the right blade left, completing the severing and leaving the Sha in half.
The scene unfolded before his eyes, the penance striking into him as he stood amidst the field. He was in Durator, running, he could hear footsteps behind him, and could smell the hot dirt of the midday sun. He looked behind himself, an Orc woman chased him with a smile upon her face, his mother. He looked back, catching glimpses of his own legs running, he was a child playing with his mother.
I remember this.
He heard the mother slow her run and suddenly speed up again, intentionally letting the child get farther, letting him run closer to the rock face ahead. The shadows covered that place, hiding everything from the sun. He wanted to yell at the mother to catch him, but he knew it wouldn’t matter. This had already happened, and he would not be able to change it; for now he only felt the joy and elation the child held as they ran from their mother, towards that rockface. The child turned a corner, and was suddenly looking at himself. Alorinis dressed in his green armor, scimitar high and already moving to the neck. The scimitar sank into the child’s neck, no emotions coming from the child, everything happening too fast for it to understand.
Suddenly he is looking through the mother’s eyes, seeing their child’s head being tossed from the rockface, landing in a pool of blood. Shock, realization, and depression fill her heart, and weigh upon her like a mountain. She sees an Elf step out from behind the rockface, and rage fills her mind and heart. This man had just killed their child, and they would kill him for it. With a battlecry they grab a stone and rush at the Elf, but Alorinis knows it won’t matter. Alorinis twirls his scimitar, slicing of their hand, and plunges his second through their chest. The mother sinks low, eyes fixed on Alorinis, pure hatred burning as they looked at him. This man has killed them, and they would hate him for it.
She loves him, I should hate her for it
He returned to himself, to the real world. Body shaking with convulsions as the anger spread through his mind, and he quickly worked to sublimate it. The three remaining Sha had turned to him already, and were moving towards him quickly; his emotions acting like a beacon in the night to them.
I give her everything, and she still runs to him like a pup!
He shoved his emotions away, burying them beneath his determination. A Sha was too close, he needed to strike. Summoning forth his powers as a Ranger, he called upon the Wilds to aid him. As he readied himself to fight the closest Sha, a nearby Mushan rushed into the other two and slammed them far away.
With a silent nod of gratitude to the Mushan, Alorinis brought his blades down upon the Sha. Not working with any finesse or tactic, he sliced right through the Sha, using his muscles to grind the blades farther into it until they hit the ground. The Sha expired, and the penance took hold of him again.
He was in the forests of Kalimdor, poised in a tree, scanning the ground. Wondering where his target could be, his painted fingernails clenching into the tree, muttering under his breathe. He was a Ranger-Priestess, looking for Alorinis; he remembered this as well, and knew it would not be long. He turned in the tree to look behind, and stopped to peer into a bush. Those eyes, he saw them, Everlith’s eyes; rage filled their heart, as the Ranger-Priestess leaped from the tree. Before their feet even struck the ground, an arrow pierced their heart. Pinned to a tree, fear and anger built more into them, eyes fixed on Everlith as he left the bush and walked away, not even giving a nod.
She loves him more than myself, she will leave me for him.
For a moment the image of Everlith transformed into Eleneill, walking away as he lay there near dead.
Returning to himself, he screamed in frustration, stomping on the ground and yanking his scimitars from it, turning to face the next two Sha. The Mushan had left back to grazing, the Sha quickly approaching him. He’d have to fight them together, but he needed another moment to compose himself.
Calling upon the spirit of the Wilds, he spoke to the trees and asked their help. Their branches shook and the winds picked up, leaves fell and began to swirl around Alorinis, covering him and the field. He used the moment to put distance between himself and the Sha, sublimating his emotions as best he could, the rage and fear struck by his force of will.
He is nothing but trash, a disgrace to the living! She loves him more still, what does that make me?
He pushed the thoughts away, knowing now was not the time. He readied his blades as the winds left and let the leaves touch the ground. Eyeing the Sha he nodded, beginning a slow run forward. The Sha slowed in their pace, his emotional beacon not shining bright and leaving them near-blind once more, but with enough to still sense him as they moved towards him. Picking up his pace, his lifted his scimitars so their tips faced the sky, and drew his leg muscles taunt with each step.
With a simple word, she’d leave forever to traverse the world with him, leaving everything else behind.
The Sha quickly redirected themself to face him and clawed at the ground, propelling themselves to him quickly. Eyes going wide he sprung into the air, twirling as he did till his head faced the ground, and his body moved to be over the Sha. They stopped, looking up at him, hands raising to claw at their descending prey. His arms shot out, driving the scimitar blades, emenating their green glow, into the Sha tops. His body continued to twist as the penance took hold, his control fading until he landed flat on his back, a rock stabbing into his already wounded shoulder.
Wounded because she feels fine to fight me, but with him she only loves.
Two penances at once, the feelings were never straight or easy, often leaving him with a grand headache.
He was in the snowy plains of the Barrens, Dwarves and Centaurs roaming about with their kegs and spears. Hoofed boot prints struck under his feet, as the young Dwarf-Tauren took aim at its prey, they had been hunting for a day and week. The Dwarf fileld with joy at finding its dinner, the Tauren with pride at finding its enemy.
If only she felt this way when she saw me.
Each took aim, the bow-gun shimmering before their eyes. A sudden scream of rage split the air behind them, turning quickly and filling with Dwarven curiosity and Tauren readiness.
Maybe I should leave her first, before she can leave me. No, I love her, I can’t do that. Even if she could.
A mad Elf rushe towards them, shirtless and holding a large stick, some tree branch from a dead tree near by. His hair changed from white to autum brown, but that look in his eyes never changed. A flood of worry and concern sped through him as they raised their weapon in defense of the crazed Elf rushing at them.
When will he be back? Will she vanish again, and never return?
They let off a shot, a crossbow bullet flying at the Elf, but he dropped to the ground in a roll and completely avoid the shot. He came back up to his feet and launched forward, the stick coming high and aimed like a spear. The Elf stabbed out, and rage filled their being. Dwarven horns came forward in a rush, an attempt to skewer the Elf and at least die with them. The Elf grabbed their beard and yanked it to him, the horns piercing into his shoulder, the staff burying itself into their neck. As blood coughed up and the Elf pushed himself back and began walking away, fury filled their minds. Fury at their innability to do anything, fury at the Elf for striking them down for no reason.
Fury at her for loving him, when all Alorinis had ever done was try to help her and be everything she needed. All Moeghyn ever did was come back to civilization, spend a night or two, and leave again without a care in the world of them, much less of her.
What is he that I am not!? Why am I not good enough to replace him!
He returned to reality, letting forth a cough as he rose, hand massaging his shoulder in pain. His mind bubbled with emotions, he quickly worked to control them before he did anything else. All the Sha were dead, he could feel each piece of his mark dissapearing as it left his skin; only the red iris remained, and he had never been given instruction on that.
He let out a sigh, reigning in himself enough to at least check on Eleneill. He knew she had to be miserable, as she always was after these times. She’d be mopey tonight, he’d need to cheer her up. He could take her on a hunt, she always felt good on a hunt; it would allow her to be alone, but let him be close in case she needed him.
He sought her out in their link, keeping himself from alerting her. She was happy.
Happy? She isn’t usually happy. Why is she happy?
The effect of the penance resurfaced, filling his mind with all the emotions he could not hold back any more. He let our a scream to the sky as he drew himself away from her mind, dropping their link to the bare minimum. She would not care or pay attention, she’d leave him alone. He stood and lifted his face to the sky, letting out a scream of exhaustion and anger.
“What does he do that I do not!? He runs! He comes in for a night, takes my wife, and has his fun! Then he leaves, he leaves and I am left to be by her side! He leaves, and leaves her a child that I take and raise and love!” He slammed his foot into the ground, bellowing.
“He does this to everyone, why can’t she see this! Why does she allow him to do it! Am I not good enough for her!? Should I just leave her, maybe then she’d come after me so feverently like she does him! Damn you Moeghyn, damn you Eleneill!” He threw his scimitars into the ground, the blades sinking deep.
“She makes a bond with her soul to a man who would sell it if it bought him his freedom! She has never even asked it of me, the man who has pledged to always be by her side, in any need!” The rage within him grew, his fear of her leaving him with it.
“We made a pact! We loved one another, and only played with others. But no, she breaks this! She loves him, she loves him more than me!” He let out a scream into the air until his throat was hoarse and dry.
He dropped to the ground, chest shuddering as tears filled his eyes.
“She loves him, and I’ve let people die because I would not love them, because I could not love them. My children, they will grow up without their blood-mothers, because I did not love them. Now one lives alone, one in some hollow marriage, and one her own life; I did not love them, and they have died.” His eyes narrowed as he gripped a rock and threw it far in anger.
“But she! She gives him her love, her devotion, he craze! And he does nothing but walk away from it, like a snack for later!” He stood, gripping his scimitars as he paced around the field.
“Stupid, ignorant, foolish woman! She tosses her heart into this despair, and for what?! Him?! He isn’t worth the dirt he treads upon, and she would kiss it if she found it!”
He felt the darkness rising inside of him, the voice getting louder in his head.
Kill him then, remove the obstacle. She said to him, her dark voice rolling through his mind as if she owned it, and she did.
He never heard the voice, masked from himself in the chaos, only letting the idea spring into his mind, as if his own.
Moeghyn is not at fault here. He is a pathetic excuse for a person, but it is not his doing that causes all of this. She should be smarter, she should be stronger, she should tell me if she isn’t happy. I have changed in so many ways for her, and yet she won’t tell me what she wants to replace him. Am I to spend a night with her and then not speak to her for a year, then come back and act as if it doesn’t matter? Should I just leave and never come back, and wait for her to find me?
She wouldn’t look for you, she only cares enough about him to look like that. She whispered into his mind, letting the chaos draw the idea to him and take hold.
He shook his head in anger and frustration, roaring again. The green glow begin to draw around his body, the Wilds answered his unmade call for help. Dark shadowy lines began to draw between the green glow, pressing it away from him.
He closed his eyes, pleading with himself to find a good memory, something to latch onto and smile about. His frantic pleading took hold and gripped a memory, his consciousness latching onto it.
He was in Eversong, his manor. No, their manor. The flowers on the dresser, the only time he had seen them was the night of their wedding. They had eloped out in the Storm Peaks, making a pledge before the Ancients and the Wilds to always be with one another, and to never let love pass away from them, on pain of death.
He looked from the dresser and saw her smiling, walking up to him slowly with a grin on her face. Her arms, both completely Elven and before the incident, moved to press against his chest, laying him down on the bed.
He smiled as he began to relive the memory, but the dark voice within his head began to speak of other things, to remind him of before the wedding, and why it happened.
Moeghyn had just left again, we had just learned Eleneill was pregnant. Both of us had given her a child, twins of different fathers. And he had left. He left, again, and she was crying by the pond. I told her how I hated Moeghyn, and how I was furious with her for being so stupid, and how excited I was for having children to come.
His eyes snapped open, narrowing again as his teeth set in a growl.
She did it because she was scared, and foolish. Not out of true love, but out of fear and a point of desperation. Look at how easily she left me when I went to the Church of Belore to try and help her. He chided himself, shaking his head.
No, she came back. She found me on the mountain, she saved me life, she let me feel what she felt towards me, it was real. He repeated to himself over and over again, demanding of himself to understand.
He looked up to the sky, tears streaming down his face as he mind raced to place everything together. His anger and fear still rising within him, refusing to be sublimated, converting his mind and heart to their point of view.
“She doesn’t want me, I’m just second best.” He growled, pushing himself off the ground as tears continued to fall from his face.
“Fine then. If all I can be is second best, then I will. Just because she is going to be some young fool, and love someone not worth the air she breathes, doesn’t mean I have to destroy myself for it. I love her, and want to be with her. If she’ll love me and wants to be with me, even if I’m only here to be second best, then so be it.”
He wiped aside his eyes, growling. The anger would not let go of him, it latched on to him, forcing him to feel it. And he was angry, angry that she would put him in this position, angry she would continue to make these mistakes. They only existed when Moeghyn came back, but the periods between those times never made up for all of it.
He sheathed his scimitars with a shove, turning on heel and walking away from the field. The Sha bodies already decomposed and returned to the ground of Pandaria, the grass beneath his feet bending under his step.
With a scowl on his face, and a glare in his eyes he moved himself to return to Quel’Thalas, and to his life as an Arch-Commander and the second best. Furious over what had become, when he thought it was gone.
She loves him, and I should hate her. I love her.
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