#Nightbreeze family tree | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kaldoreiyarns · 7 years

Text

Of Uncles and Nieces

[Edit: To get a better sense of what’s happening here, read Iyora’s Dear An’da #5 before this... Also, a big shout out and thank you to @bovira for letting me use her char Bo in this piece!]

A small, dim, ghostly wisp floated down out of the sky, winding through the trees until it came upon the Sentinel camp. All the indigo-hued tents were set up in military precision, the small, wooden crescent moons adorning their tops were catching the dying light of the day as the wisp rode the wind currents that blew lightly through them. People were already getting up and about, as sun-down was the natural time Kaldorei camps usually got moving as the wisp seemed to be searching for someone or something among the warrior women.

On the outskirts of the camp, several people were walking back with buckets of water, Iyora Silverhawk among them as she liked water duty in the evenings, going to the nearest source of water and collecting it for the camps’ use was similar to the Moonwell water fetching she’d use to do for evening rituals back in the Temple. Although there was one difference, the camp needed a ton more water than the Temple rituals ever did, but it was good exercise, building muscles on her arms that used to be so very skinny once upon a time. She used to be a lean little stick of a Priestess, but now that leanness was covered in a layer of muscles that added more definition to her form, muscles she was very proud of as she worked hard to become a proper Sentinel.

After setting down the last of the buckets near the cooking pit she gave Huntress Ever-Tear a big smile and a more proper salute as she was busy cooking breakfast for them all. Iyora spied that there would be enough time for her to go do her morning meditations and prayers before breakfast was ready, which was just how she liked it. She walked back to her tent as Nightpurr popped his giant head out of it sniffing and snuffling, obviously looking for his breakfast. Ducking into her tent she pulled out a ‘Saber meal’ which was packaged meat and other things (such as vitamins hidden in the meat) that were issued for the Sentinel Sabers to eat. She unwrapped it as the giant cat practically danced around her and then she put it down for him to grab and devour. With that done she got dressed in her duty uniform, grabbed her staff and washed her hands outside before going to a visible spot to her Sisters under a tree in the camp to start her morning Priestess rituals. She pulled out a small bit of incense, lit it and just as she started to go through the motions…

“Your ‘Uncle’ would like a word with you,” a gruff and gravelly female voice said above her in a tone of snooty amusement.

Looking up with alarm as she already had her staff in hand to fight she saw what at first looked like a wisp, a wisp that then turned into the familiar form of that small val’kyr that followed her Uncle around. The tiny winged woman smirked viciously at Iyora as Iyora just glared back, no one liked the creepy thing, including her own Uncle Ourrin Highblade. From what Iyora’s father had told her, the story was the little creature had to kill something to become a full val’kyr and had picked Ourrin for some reason. Iyora and her father Jartsam both surmised that since Ourrin was still walking around, that the creature had failed in her endeavors and now just followed their Twice-Born family member around due to some bit of twisted logic that only made sense to it. The val’kyr would do only what Ourrin told it (aside from ‘buzz off’, apparently when Ourrin told her that, she’d just do that creepy grin of hers and giggle and stay put) and if anyone else tried to talk to it, you’d be lucky if all you came away with was a series of painful gashes up an extremity or your face. Mostly he used her to send messages or be a spy/scout for his group of Twice-Born known as the Redeemed as if she kept insisting on hanging around, she might as well make herself useful.

When Iyora didn’t reply fast enough the little creature grinned wider trying to be as unnerving as possible, “He’s outside of camp waiting,” then she jumped off the branch she was perched on and sped off in the direction Ourrin probably was at.

Iyora’s irritated sigh came out more like a growl as she wondered what could her ‘Uncle’ could possibly want. She didn’t like him, he wasn’t her real Uncle Ourrin to her, as that man had died in the Third War. The Twice-born was just a walking, talking, unnerving abomination of his former self and she couldn’t stand being in his presence. Her brow furrowed, what under the Blue Child could he possibly want with her? All of his dealings with this Cadre has always been with the Commander only and thankfully he always left her out of it. He knew she didn’t like him even if her beloved An’da kept insisting his brother was still himself (despite being an ice-cold, no-pulse murder machine), and up until now Ourrin seemed to respect her wishes in giving her a wide berth. So what would…?

Then it hit her. Her last letter to her An’da… Oh. Ooh.

Getting up, she looked around for someone to tell, or go with her as she wasn’t about to walk out of camp proper alone. Finally she spied Guardian Nightbreeze getting out of her tent as she walked right up to her. Saluting her superior she let the Guardian know Ourrin wanted to speak with her. Bovira stood there for a moment digesting the news, looking around until finally she said she could spare some time to accompany her to where Ourrin was waiting. Iyora liked the Guardian the most out of all of her superior officers (if you could, could you do that? That may not be a proper thing to feel about your superiors) as she was the most… calm. Calm, unflappable, quiet and thoughtful, if Iyora needed help she knew out of anyone aside from the Commander, Bovira’s advice was usually the best to heed. Although, currently she hadn’t been exactly heeding Bovira’ advice of late, which made her feel rather guilty. The ursine-looking druidess followed Iyora to the edge of camp where the small val’kyr suddenly flared into existence again in front of them.

“You Sentinels sure are slow,” it chided, again with that smirk that made Iyora itch to slap it off of the thing’s face as then it regarded the Guardian, “But then bears are pretty slow and dumb, shouldn’t be too surprised I guess...”

Oo! Iyora wanted to rain down some holy fire on that smarmy little thing, but then she looked over to Bovira who didn’t even seem to notice it had said anything. The Guardian looked over to the Keeper with her usual serene gaze, a bit of humor dancing in the corner of her eye that somehow made Iyora’s anger just evaporate like morning mist on sunrise. The senior Sentinel wasn’t about to let the val’kyr get under her skin so, which made Iyora feel a bit sheepish that she was being rather thin skinned. The Guardian looked past the winged annoyance as there was Ourrin, mounted on something that almost made Iyora’s jaw drop right there and then.

“Sham’bala?” she choked out as it was indeed, she’d know that Moonsaber anywhere.

The female saber had been a gift between brothers, one of the first litters her Father had ever helped birth, he gave the biggest cub to Ourrin to train and ride as a battle partner and she did not disappoint either brother. She was a huge female and seemed to have just as much an appetite for battle as her rider did back in the day, she was also a proud mother several times over herself, putting off many fine kittens that were quite sought over as battle mounts themselves. Her bloodline is still the pride and joy of her Father, and well known amongst most Kaldorei saber-breeders. However the longer she looked at that Moonsaber, her shock faded into revulsion as she sensed something seriously off about her. As the large saber swung its head around to look at her, she gasped and almost staggered back, Sham’bala’s eyes were dead white and the more she looked the more she realized that Sham’bala was not of this world anymore, at least, not entirely; as one’s eyes traveled down the massive cat’s legs the paws seemed to disappear into vague, misty outlines. She had indeed died during the Third War with her rider and now, somehow she was back once more to follow Ourrin into whatever battle he chose to fight.

“Keeper? Are you alright?” Bovira asked quietly.

Iyora shook her head no, “Sham’bala… it’s a shock to see her like this. I don’t know if her coming back to Ourrin’s side is a blessing or a curse from Elune.”

The Guardian merely pursed her lips and said nothing to that as they saw Ourrin stiffen in his saddle a bit, probably over the fact he sensed Iyora’s discomfort as his jaw tightened under his seemingly paper-thin skin. He dismounted Sham’bala with a pat to the now undead cat’s great flank (a gesture he used to always do when they were alive too, which made the hairs on the back of Iyora’s neck prickle like a fiend) and walked down to meet them both. As he walked, the cat sat down and oddly enough started to clean one of her there-not-there ghostly paws (apparently even death couldn’t stave off feline habits!) as the val’kyr flew up and cackled at the Twice-Born Commander.

“Great job Commander Ourrin! You unsettled her more with your dumb cat than I could have ever hoped to achieve!” she called, very much loud enough to be overheard by Iyora and Bovira.

Suddenly a great paw shot through the air and SLAM! Sham’bala had neatly swatted the annoying val’kyr thing under her giant front paws in another display that alive or dead, a cat was a cat no matter what. The saber opened her translucent paws a bit to see if her prey was still trapped within as a faint groan could be heard accompanied by a small flash of light that meant the val’kyr had teleported herself somewhere. Sham’bala grunted in disappointment and returned to her position and to grooming her ghostly form waiting on her master.

It was Iyora’s turn to smirk now as it did have a satisfactory feel of karma striking the cruel creature, but it didn’t last long as she saw another mounted from behind the familiar Moonsaber as there sat Ourrin’s second-in-command, the only Twice-Born Iyora found even more disturbing than her Uncle, Mayet. Mayet was Ourrin’s shadow in every way as wherever Ourrin was, Mayet wasn’t far behind. The female worgen sat there, her unwavering undead stare seemed to lock into Iyora’s gaze as the Keeper had to turn away, she couldn’t handle the intensity of that woman’s stare for too long. Elune help her, she had stared down a demon once during a mission, but she couldn’t hold Mayet’s eyes for more than a moment without her skin crawling.

In the meantime Ourrin had stopped a few paces away from them and bowed perfectly in greetings to them both, “Guardian Nightbreeze, a pleasure,” his unnatural voice sounded like it was coming from the bottom of a deep well despite him keeping his tone mellow with the two Sentinels.

“Commander Highblade,” Bovira bowed back in kind as Iyora followed suit, but a tad more stiffly.

“I have been sent to speak with my Niece on behalf of my Brother if I may,” his own unnerving gaze landed on Iyora as she wished she could pull her hood up over not only her head, but her face as well. Although she had to admit, Ourrin’s gaze wasn’t as harsh as Mayet’s, but then maybe Ourrin was modulating his somehow unlike Mayet. Ourrin always seemed more… considerate of the living than Mayet.

Bovira nodded at this, “Very well, I see this is of a personal nature. I will go give my respects to your Second then while you speak,” and with that she clasped her hands behind her back as she walked over to where Mayet was sitting on her mount.

“That’s going to be a very one-sided conversation,” Iyora muttered under her breath as Mayet brought new meaning to ‘silent as the grave’ when it came to trying to talk with her. She wondered if the worgen was in reality mute, but she also had heard her respond to Ourrin once or twice in the past.

Ourrin nodded as Bovira walked by as he pulled a letter out from his belt-pouch and held it out for Iyora to take. Trying not to make a face at him she took it rather hastily and saw her An’da’s handwriting on it addressing her. She didn’t open it yet, instead she finally raised her eyes to meet her Uncle’s otherworldly ones.

After a moment Ourrin finally spoke, “Your Father is concerned about you,” his echoing voice low, soft.

She eyed him for another awkward moment, did this creature just sound concerned for her as well?

“So he told you to come talk to me?” she winced as that came out far more accusatory than she had meant it too.

The Twice-Born didn’t even seem to notice her irritation with him or the situation, “He recieved your letter and spoke with me. He would come himself to see you, but I reminded him he had duties in Darnassus and that the Isles are an open warzone. No place for a family reunion.”

“Yet you’re here,” Iyora muttered again as she rubbed her thumb over the paper of the letter.

He didn’t rise to her childish baiting at all, “You can read the letter now if you wish.”

Ourrin didn’t have to tell her twice as she opened it and started reading.

Dearest Iyora,

I hope this letter finds you in a better place than the last letter you sent me seemed to have you at. I do not think you a fool my daughter, far from it, but at the same time, I do know love can make fools of us all. While it does sound like you have yourself in something of a pickle, it sounds like you already know the answer to the issue with your first friend there, you just need to do it. Soon rather than later would probably be the best bet, while I know you wish to do it in person, I do not think your lifestyle will give you such a chance and it’s better to just get it over with and make your intentions crystal clear to her. As long as you are firm and clear she should back off and I am sorry it came to this between you as it’s never easy to let someone go. If she persists, well, lets just hope she doesn’t and burn that bridge if and when we get there, eh?

As for your other issues… Oh Iyora, you’ve always had such a big heart. Watching you grow up, you’d love every saber you’d meet and it would always break your heart if we lost one. You’d always be out with me tending to wounds and illnesses when other girls your age would rather be out hunting with a bow and arrow. I knew one day you’d fall in love, and you’re somewhat right I was making that face while reading your letter, but your heart is your biggest asset and your biggest weakness. I know, because I have the same big heart and so does your Min’da, you are so our child. We just worry about you as we know you have a good head on your shoulders, but hearts can and will get people into trouble.

All in all, I just want you to be happy and I know you want to heal this boy, but are you sure he’s worth it? I am not criticizing you, just asking questions you should be asking yourself is all. Like you said, being a Sentinel is what you want right now and that is what you should be focusing on, yes?

I know I don’t talk about it much, but I have seen the devastation of using fel energy can bring, and I’m pretty sure with your second deployment in the Isles that you’ve probably seen it too. I don’t quite agree with the ‘Illidari’ stance of fighting fire with fire as in my experience that just gets your and everything around you burned. Your Mother, your Uncle and I, we all survived the War of the Ancients and the Sundering, it is hard for those as old as we are to trust these ‘Illidari’ (Couldn’t they have come up with a better name for themselves? Bah), but please Iyora, if he is using such powers willingly, I fear it cannot end well even if this path was forced upon him.

However I digress, again, I just want you to be happy my Kitten. If he makes you happy, then so be it, just be careful. But, as a concerned An’da I’m sending Ourrin to get a sense of the boy. Don’t get mad at him, he’s doing this on my request to make your old man feel better.

Next time you come home though, I’d love to meet your Heart-Sister Liall! Please bring her by, she sounds very nice.

Know I love you too and always will no matter what.

Love,

Your An’da

P.S. - You’re using protection, yes?

A hot tear escaped her watering eyes and splashed on the letter, blurring the ink in one spot as she quickly wiped her eyes (as well as the postscript making her suddenly blush furiously - An’da!!). Looking up through her moist lashes she noticed Ourrin had turned a bit to give her some privacy and was either not or pretending not to notice her reaction to reading her letter as he was looking off into the distance absent-mindedly stroking his chin stubble. The familiar gesture made her hair stand back on end again as she quickly folded up the letter and put it away in her own belt pouch. Elune, why did he do those things and freak her out? She remembered him doing that all the time when he was thinking, back when he actually had a fuller beard and would get out his long pipe to smoke a bit as well. Was it as An’da said and his former self was still there, just buried?

Finally his eye swung down as he turned to look at her, the moment of seeing her old Uncle again broken and lost as he said nothing, waiting for her to make the first move.

She cleared her throat, “Did you read it?”

“No,” the way he denied it rang like the noise of a hammer hitting a nail home, “It wasn’t addressed to me.”

This shade of her Uncle was a brutally honest one; Iyora relaxed a bit, “Now what?”

“I speak with your Vilaxian Dawnstorm,” his tone slightly more casual now, “Where can I find him?”

She wanted to squirm but restrained herself, “I don’t know. He could be anywhere…”

He could be watching us right now, she thought as she refused to let herself look up into the nearby treeline, however she was being honest, Vilaxian could be anywhere.

The Death Knight studied her carefully for a time, then his gaze rose up, over her head as he scanned the Sentinel camp behind her.

“Dawnstorm…” he muttered as icy shivers ran down her spine, “There’s a Sentinel of that name in your cadre.”

“Lieutenant Dawnstorm, his sister,” she replied quietly.

“Ah,” was all he said, whatever his intentions he wasn’t going to give anything away, least of all to her it seemed.

“D-d-don’t go and talk with her, s-s-she probably w-w-wouldn’t know where he is either,” her studder finally reared its head as she winced.

Again, those cold, cold eyes regarded her, “I wouldn’t, I’d just speak with Commander Wintershade.”

“No!” she yelped then flushed, how under the Blue Child did this man get under her skin so? She’d damn him, but he was already damned!

“So your Commander doesn’t know…”

“She also wouldn’t know where he is, he’s not welcome in camp,” she rapidly tried to change the direction that the conversation was going in, “And if you must know, it’s not exactly a secret, two of my senior officers know… about him and… me…” she flicked her eyes towards where Guardian Nightbreeze was with Mayet and started to envy her and her probable non-conversation with the other Twice-Born.

Ourrin didn’t follow her gaze, “What is the Sentinel policy on dealing with Illidari then?”

Physically deflating she told him, “We are not to go after them unless they attack us first, but we’re not supposed to associate with them unless the circumstances are dire.”

Silence descended between them as finally his gaze lifted off of her again and scanned around. He didn’t have to say anything her guilty conscious was doing enough damage inside of her as it was, this just brought it all back up for her.

Finally she whispered, “H-h-he’s not really an Illidari… just like you’re not really my Uncle.”

She saw the impact of the words hit Ourrin as his cool gaze, dimmed, the skin around his eyes crinkling up a touch, the air around them suddenly getting colder. She bit her lip as her heart leapt into her throat.

Sadness, bottomless sadness sprang up in those dead eyes, “Iyora… I…” he started, and for that split second, he didn’t sound like a Death Knight with their hollow, echoing voices, he sounded like how he used to sound, like the living, breathing Ourrin Highblade of yore that had saved her life once - the man that was her personal hero - and she just lost it.

“No! I am Keeper Silverhawk to you! I don’t know what you are, and you may have my An’da fooled, but you won’t fool me! My Uncle Ourrin is dead! You’re just some poor facsimile!”

Whatever the Twice-Born was going to say, it died on his frozen lips as they just pressed back together and his eyes renewed their chilly, still gaze. Turning crisply on his heel he said nothing more to her as he walked away, leaving her shaking with anger and remorse in his wake.

Bovira and Mayet had already been looking over as they both probably heard her last outburst as the Guardian nodded at Mayet and amazingly enough Mayet briefly nodded back as the Druidess left to return to Iyora’s side. In passing Ourrin, they both bowed again and said their polite farewells as Ourrin swung up into Sham’bala’s saddle as he urged her into a walk, Mayet’s mount instantly falling into stride next to them as they left.

The Guardian looked on Iyora with concerned eyes and asked for the second time this evening, “Are you okay Keeper?”

Just shook her head no, but didn’t elaborate further to her superior. Already she felt and inch tall, she shouldn’t have said that, she shouldn’t have said that… Oh Elune, I am horrible, terrible...

“Come on, let’s go get some breakfast,” Bovira said with reassuring smile and a hand on Iyora’s shoulder as she nudged the Keeper into starting to walk back to the camp proper.

As they walked back, she finally found her voice to reply, “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

“You know why she yelled at you, don’t you?” the male voice died giving way to the hissing and crackling that let one know the Gnomish device was actually working (and not about to blow up, that was when it started whining as they had learned the hard way once… or twice).

Ourrin stood there for a long moment, not hitting the button so he could speak back to his Brother through the Gnomecorder. Mayet looked up at him briefly from her mapping something out on the papers spread out before her and gave him a knowing look, but didn’t say a word. They didn’t need to, theirs was a relationship where words weren’t always needed.

Mulling it over, he finally hit the button, “I pushed her too far.”

Jartsam’s voice came back over the speaker, “No, it wasn’t entirely that.”

Rubbing an eyebrow with a finger he was finding communication with the living tedious as usual, moreso today as he knew he shouldn’t have gotten involved in this. Why did he feel such loyalty towards this male?

It was a rhetorical question as he knew the answer, they were brothers, but moreso that Jartsam was still one of the very few to accept him as he was currently. Also one of the very few that he could go to for answers when his fractured memories decided to act up. The other was his daughter Sharina Sylversword, but she had her own mountain of issues, so he didn’t like imposing his problems on top of hers.

“You probably don’t remember, but you saved her life once. She used to idolize you,” Jartsam paused for a moment to let that sink in and then chuckled, “Heh, I remember she once came home from Temple with a bloody nose from a fight with another acolyte that had been bad mouthing your good name and our usually docile Iyora apparently stomped her.”

“She’s not all that docile,” he replied dryly thinking back to earlier this evening, “And I don’t believe I ever had a ‘good name’,” a bodiless cackle followed that from the ever present val’kyr annoyance hiding somewhere in the room.

Mayet got up to get something from across the room next to him as she put a hand on Ourrin’s shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. He gently lifted her hand to his lips for a moment before releasing it as she walked back to the desk.

Ourrin heard Jartsam sigh, “The point is, I feel with you she is still not over your death. It felt like betrayal to her for you to go off and die and now that you’re, well…”

“‘A poor facsimile of my former self?’” he quoted, banal.

“Elune, is that what she said?”

The Death Knight was not one to a) repeat himself or b) answer seemingly rhetorical questions so he just didn’t say anything as something of a grumbling noise could be heard over the line from Jartsam’s end.

“Aw, his little precious baby girl is just a big brat!” Serra cat-called from above them now, as he could pinpoint her location to be somewhere in the rafters above.

Mayet eyed the rafters of their room for a long moment, but then turned back to her papers, the worgen female had a propensity for attacking the val’kyr with her blood magics just on principle. His Second was also very good at biding her time.

The static broke to give way to Jartsam’s voice again, “She’s young… it’s probably just Kitten-love...”

“Don’t,” Ourrin stopped him dead, “She said her piece, the reasons aren’t important to the matter at hand. I will still go speak with this Vilaxian and get back with you.”

“Thank you Brother,” Jartsam signed off with a weary voice as Ourrin shut off the crackling machine back into stark silence.

Ourrin steeped his long fingers before him as he leaned back into his seat asking himself again why exactly he was doing this. However before he thought himself into a spiraling dark mood he felt Mayet slide up and press her body against his as he wrapped his arms around her. Her presence brought a measure of calm as the two just lay there, not saying anything as again, words were not required.

“By Odyn, you two are disgusting,” the val’kyr spat destroying the stillness which was promptly followed up by Mayet shooting a blood boil bolt, nailing Serra as the thing yelped and teleported off somewhere.

Silence descended once more as the two Death Knights just drank it in.

#world of warcraft #wow #short story #Ourrin #Iyora #kaldorei #kaldoreiyarns #azeroth #death knight #sentinel #night elves #Mayet

0 notes